Vaughn laid down, and rested on his back as he got comfortable on the cot. It was a bit too small for him, as his feet partly hung off of the bed. He wanted at some point to go and get a new mattress or something along those lines for his cot. He was covered by the blankets and stifled a chuckle as Ilya did so. He was satisfied with what had already been done, but when Ilya pressed a kiss to his forehead, his cheeks tinted a soft pink once again.
His head tilted into Ilya's touch as he rested his eyes for a short moment. He wanted to take it all in, to completely bask in the comforting feeling of Ilya's nimble hands against his cheeks. His eyes squinted back open before he spoke. "You don't want to rest?" he asked with a furrowed brow. He wouldn't want to leave Ilya alone to just sit somewhere in the store for the rest of the night. If so, he would most likely protest to stay awake with the other male.
Ilya looked away, still petting Vaughn's cheeks gently. "Oh. No, I… I didn't think there would be space for me on the bad and… and there's always the chair." It wouldn't be terribly comfortable to curl up in the chair, especially when he's wrapped Vaughn up in every blanket he could find, but it would be nicer than the floor and he could get out of Vaughn's hair for a little bit. He was sure Vaughn would appreciate it. He'd been in the man's space all day and he knew, despite whatever Vaughn might say to the contrary, that he got on people's nerves.
"It's a nice chair," he tacked on lamely, even though it really wasn't. He kept petting Vaughn, his cheeks first, and then they slipped up to card through his hair the way he'd seemed to like so much before. "And… and you must want some time to yourself. I really don't mind hiding away for a little, you… you've given me so much."
Vaughn would have been completely fine with Ilya staying. They would be resting, and that would have meant silence. That’s really what he wanted for the time being, and that could still be achieved with Ilya by his side. It would be good to have someone that was real by him. His hallucinations and occasional night terrors always got bad the next couple of nights after a kill.
He shifted where he laid, moving backwards and closer to where the wall was as he shifted the blankets on the opposite end to the side a tad. “I like the quiet, is all. You can rest here if you want. I don’t mind the company,” he explained, sitting himself up a tad bit. Figure hissed softly at him as he did so, and he glanced past Ilya to see the hallucination lingering there. Despite the fact that he knew it was not real, he still did not like how close it got to Ilya.
Ilya winced as he pushed himself up, hands coming forward to press his shoulders gently back down again. It was a tentative touch, barely firm enough to get him down again if he went willingly, but Ilya was still new to tending to other people. "Oh! I… I didn't realize. You… um… you really don't mind?" He crept closer to the bed even as he asked. Damian had never shared a bed with him and he missed holding other people and being held in turn. There had been a time when he was very tactile and that part of him still cried out for touch, even as he shied nervously away from it.
"Because I don't mind the chair, it's…" he chewed the inside of his cheek, hands curling into weak fists. "… it's fine, really. And you need room too, to… to heal. Even sitting up is more pressure then there should be on your stitches, and if… if they pop or something I don't want to be in the way."
Vaughn eased back down against the bed a tad bit, but he was still his stubborn self. He did not rest down all the way, instead staying propped up against his elbows so he could continue to look at Ilya properly. It was better than having to strain his neck, he thought. "I don't mind at all, no," he confirmed with a quick nod of his head. When Ilya began to stammer about him needing room to heal and not wanting to be in the way, he clicked his tongue softly.
"I don't mind, Ilya. It won't hurt me or affect the injuries I already have at the moment. I'll be ok if you lay down," he said in a soft, tired seeming tone. He would be lying if he tried to say that he was completely alert at the moment. He was exhausted from his wounds and the struggle of the kill overall. Even the voices and Figure, who were usually so loud, were now muffled in his ears. He held a hand out to Ilya, offering it for the male to take. "You're ok. You can come lay down and get comfortable," he spoke gently, looking up at Ilya with a glint of adoration in his steely gaze.
Ilya froze for a few seconds, obviously flustered, before he accepted the offered hand and let Vaughn pull him into the cot. It was small enough that there was no way to put any room between them—Ilya ended up tucked under one of Vaughn's arms, head on his shoulder and chest pressed flush against his side. He liked it. Vaughn was warm against him, even though Ilya was still wrapped up in his hoodie, and he had nice strong arms, and when Ilya leaned up he could bury his face in the crook of his neck which was very, very nice because it meant he could hide the pinkness in his cheeks.
He held himself stiffly, even when they had both settled comfortably together. It felt wrong to relax, overly familiar and presumptuous, because he was settled but did he really deserve to be? Did he deserve this comfort, this kindness? It didn't feel like it. "I'm always comfortable," he mumbled quietly, breath fanning over Vaughn's collar. "When I'm with you, at least, are… um… are you sure it's okay?"
Vaughn laid back down as Ilya got onto the cot. He relaxed on his back, letting Ilya lay his head against his shoulder. He shifted to wrap that arm around Ilya, exhaling softly. Ilya also provided some much needed warmth. He felt a bit chilly before, having still slightly damp hair and loose fitting, longer shorts on. But he felt much better at the moment. He had not laid by someone like this in a long time. It was sweet and innocent, and those were things he barely got to have in his life, so he was cherishing this moment.
Vaughn’s hand was rested against Ilya’s back, rubbing along it gently in a massaging sort of way. He tilted his head a little to be able to get a glimpse of the top of Ilya’s head, as the males face was hidden in the crook of his neck. “I’m completely sure. This is… really relaxing,” he breathed softly.
Ilya shivered weakly as Vaughn's hair ran up and down his back, breath hitching quietly against the his neck. Being touched like this was new and strange and it made him feel unsteady all over, equal parts excited and unsure. He didn't want to be a burden, but at the same time he'd grown so used to clinging onto the few good things he got that it felt outright wrong to reject the gentility. Especially when Vaughn was always so sweet about making him feel good, like it wasn't any trouble at all.
"Oh, then…" he pressed a little closer to Vaughn's side, shyly hooking his foot around one of Vaughn's ankles so they could tangle their legs together too. "… then I'm happy to do it. And… um… and you can ask for it any time you like, if… ah… if you'd like that too."
Their legs intertwined, and Vaughn hugged onto Ilya a tad bit tighter. He could be decently clingy at times. He had been completely touch starved since he lost his family. He hadn’t received much affection from his foster families, and he never had that many relationships. He might have had one relationship in high school, and a couple of hookups, but that was it.
A soft exhale came from his lips as they pressed closer against each other. “As long as you’re comfortable with it,” he murmured in a quiet, tired sounding tone. He was a bit exhausted and wanted to rest at the moment, and enjoy the heat coming from the body next to him. He yawned softly, ignoring the sounds of Figure hissing nearby.
"I am," Ilya said, taking the sleepiness in Vaughn's voice as his cue to quiet down. He didn't exactly have the best relationship with touch either and it was nice to be touched sweetly. Gently. Precious few people had valued him enough to take things slowly and affectionately, and he missed the feeling of being taken care of more than he really cared to admit.
But Vaughn was taking that time. Vaughn had kissed him very sweetly and kept his hands settled high on Ilya's hips and not pushed for anything more than a few pecks as they pulled apart. It was sort of incredible, how not pushy Vaughn was, and Ilya was determined to milk that kindness for as long as he could get it because it was almost certain to disappear on him at some point. "Um… goodnight. Thank you."
Vaughn tilted his head down a tad, his lips brushing gently and purposely against Ilya’s forehead. He settled his head back down, shutting his eyes as he let out a quiet sigh. “Goodnight,” he hummed gently in reply. Hopefully he would be able to sleep alright that night. It would be embarrassing to him if he had a little freak out with Ilya sleeping by him. He hoped that the warmth and presence of an actually real person would help to center him in some sort of way.
Ilya shuddered as Vaughn's lips brushed across his skin, every bit as effected by that small gesture of affection as he had been by the kisses. It was just so strange, so new. He couldn't help reacting, even as he hid his flushed cheeks in the slope of Vaughn's shoulder and forced himself not to squirm. Something warm settled in his stomach, heavy and comfortable, and he wasn't brave enough to call it feeling at home, for what was quite possibly the first time in his life.
Despite his rushing thoughts, it didn't take him long to drift off. Being afraid all day had sucked all the energy out of him, it seemed. In the space of a few minutes he was fast asleep, nosing sleepily at the curve of Vaughn's neck as he dreamed.
Vaughn had fallen asleep slowly, it taking him around twenty minutes to be fully out. Figure and other things kept making random little sounds that were keeping him from entering those healing sleep cycles. When he did fall asleep, he had minor anxiety causing dreams that would leave him waking up in a cold sweat. But it was not as bad as it always had been in the past, and he was grateful for that.
He had woken up early, as Ilya was still asleep. He had gotten up very slowly and stealthily, not wanting to wake up the sleeping male who had been next to him in bed. After changing into a pair of sweatpants and a crew neck sweatshirt, he headed out into the main area of the gas station. It was decided that a protein shake would be his breakfast for the morning. Once he grabbed that, he sat back in the desk chair that sat behind the counter. He switched on the radio that was sat on said counter, flicking through the stations.
Normally Ilya slept lightly enough that footsteps woke him, but it seemed like the previous days events had done a number on him. He slept through the sounds of birds chirping in the morning, through Vaughn waking and dressing and wandering out of the room, through the sound of the radio starting. In the end it was light, not sound, that had his eyes blearily fluttering open. Since he normally woke up so early, the sun didn't have time to get to him, but now it came slotting in through the windows, rousing him from sleep and generally being an annoyance.
He didn't have any clothes to change into so he ended up stumbling into the main room of the store where the music was coming from. "Vaughn?" His eyes were still half open, squinting against the light. "You weren't there when I woke up, is… um… is everything alright?"
Vaughn had switched the music to a news station. At the sound of movement, he looked over to where Ilya's figure was at the entrance to the main area of the gas station. "Hey, sorry. I just woke up early and came out here so I wouldn't bother you. I didn't wake you up, did I?" he asked before taking a sip of his protein shake. He heard a woman's voice come on the radio, and he held up his hand for silence as she began to speak.
"In other news, the Grinning Butcher struck again last night in our small town. Police found the body of Damian (insert last name here), a local police officer, murdered in his residence. Police are not releasing much information yet on this case, but they have said that Ilya Lukovitch, the deceased officer's housemate, is currently missing. Investigators are still looking into whether Mr. Lukovitch is still alive or not-" the sound of the woman talking was cut off by Vaughn turning off the radio. He exhaled heavily, running a hand over his face slowly.
Ilya shook his head but before he could elaborate he was being shushed so they could listen to the woman on the radio. He went pale as he listened. Looking for him, people were looking for him, and that meant his dad could follow them along, or Damian's parents, or any one of the poker buddies that knew exactly how terrified he was of the man he lived with, exactly how much he'd do to escape. His breaths came a little too fast, and then a lot too fast, and then he was sliding down the side of the nearest shelf, knees curling up to protect his chest.
His thoughts rushed through his head, a million different variations of panic and fear, but in the end they all dissolved away and he was left spiraling, nothing to distract himself and nothing to hold onto to keep him from falling.
Vaughn looked over at Ilya, quickly growing concerned. “Ilya?” he spoke, straightening and setting down his protein shake. He stood up and walked over to where Ilya was. He would have normally crouched down, but wasn’t sure if he could do that with his hurt ankle. So, he sat on the concrete floor in a criss-cross position. He made sure to stay a foot or two away. That was to give Ilya his breathing room. If Ilya wanted to be by Vaughn, he could come over, but he did not want to risk freaking Ilya out more. “Ilya, Ilya it’s ok,” he tried to reassure the panicking male.
Ilya would've been grateful for the space if he'd been aware enough to notice it, but in the moment he was more focused on how afraid he was. He would be found again and this time there wouldn't be any Vaughn to rescue him, there would just be the same hell he'd been stuck in for the last few years.
"It's not." He'd buried his face in his knees at this point, so his voice was muffled enough that the wateriness wasn't immediately audible. "It's… it's really, really n-not, they're looking for me Vaughn." He sounded frantic. "They're looking and that means they'll f-find me and I'll have to go back."
"They won't find you… How could they? That would mean they would also have to find me, and there's no way they are going to be able to do that," Vaughn started. "Even if they do, they can't force you to do anything. You're an adult- your own person. You don't have to go back into that situation." He leaned back a bit as his side began to ache once again. He would have to dig through the piles of medications he had in his bedroom to find some sort of pain medication.
When he would eventually look for pain medication, should he also get his schizophrenia medication to take? His therapist friend supplied him with them often, but he rarely ever took them. Figure vanished if he did. As much as he hated seeing that hallucination and hearing those murmuring voices, they were the only sort of company he had for the longest time. He did not feel as alone in that gas station if they were there with them. But Ily was with him now. Could he get rid of his most trusted- even if it was not real- companion?
Ilya whimpered quietly and shook his head a little harder, nails digging into his calves where he was clutching at them. "Only b-b-barely. I'm nineteen, Vaughn, and I… I've n-never lived on my own, or… or had a j-job, or… or anything." At sixteen he was out of his parents house and at seventeen he was shacking up with Damian, the time in between spent bouncing between whoever would take him for a night or two. It had been rough and difficult, but the experiences had only made him sure that he needed someone else to keep himself afloat.
People had been telling him he was a parasite for as long as he could understand what that meant, it didn't take much to make it sink in. "They'll find me, they… they a-always f-find me and when they d-do, they… they'll t-take me and… and it'll be bad again."
Vaughn slowly eased his way a tad bit closer to Ilya. He seemed visibly concerned with the way Ilya seemed to break down. "What did I say, hm?" he hummed gently as he reached a hand out towards Ilya, looking at him with a softness in his steely irises. "I said I would protect you, didn't I? I said I would keep you safe. If anyone wanted to get to you, they would have to get past me first- and that is not going to happen."
He disliked seeing Ilya so upset, and wondered how he could calm the male down. "How about we get off the floor and go sit somewhere more comfortable, yeah? Get you something for breakfast. That might help you feel a bit better," he suggested.
Ilya's breaths hitched wildly as Vaughn scooted close and when he looked up his eyes had gone watery with tears. He sniffled as he listened, wanting to believe but unable too at the same time. There were too many what ifs rattling around his head—what if his dad heard about it and got interested, what if one of Damian's police friends got invested, what if this, or that, or that. Hope was a very hard thing to hold onto when so many different things were trying to scare it away.
"I… I know what you said, I just…" He took Vaughn's hands, lacing their fingers together as his lip began to wobble. "… I…. I don't know h-how to believe it, it's… it's not… it… it c-can't happen." He shuffled a little closer after a few moments, fitting himself up against Vaughn's sides the way he had last night. "It just can't, and there's nothing to d-do about it."
Vaughn frowned softly when he noticed how Ilya seemed to grow more anxious when he scooted closer, and made a mental note to not do that again. He held Ilya's hand gently, giving it a little squeeze. When Ilya scooted against him, he took the chance to slowly wrap his arms around Ilya in a protective sort of way. He held Ilya close, resting his chin on top of Ilya's head as he stared out past the shelves and to the window, looking at the deserted outside of the gas station.
"They won't find us. I know it's scary- I get scared sometimes too. But I made a promise to you and I'm going to keep that promise," he said in a sure sounding way. He wondered what there was to do to make everything better again. Would more reassurance help? Or maybe just ignoring the subject for now? He would do what he could to make Ilya feel comfortable and safe with him at the gas station.
Ilya deflated like a day old balloon when Vaughn wrapped an arm around him, energy slipping away now that there was somebody to hold him up. He had enjoyed having his own space, but this was nice too. Just like last night, Vaughn was warm and big and strong enough that it didn't feel wrong to lean on him, just a little. It felt nice, if he was being honest with himself, but it wouldn't be appropriate to enjoy the moment so he pushed that as far down as he could and did his best to pay attention instead.
"I can't…" He curled a little bit closer. The surety in Vaughn's voice helped him quiet down the worries but it didn't make them disappear. As nice as it was to know Vaughn thought he could help, there were still some very clear problems here, at least to Ilya's eyes. He didn't know how hidden the gas station was, or how carefully Vaughn hid his identity, or how much the general public knew about what went down. "They'll find you, and… and m-me, and then I'll get t-taken back and you…" He trailed off weakly, eyes gone all wide and worried. "They'll… they'll take you t-oo and I don't wanna h-hurt you like that!!"
Vaughn kept his arms wrapped around Ilya's torso, palms resting lightly against his sides. He breathed out softly as he listened to Ilya. "They won't find either of us. I'm always careful, and they would not think to check here. They don't know anything about me- no DNA or anything. Hell, I don't even know if they know if I'm a guy or a girl," he said. That could have been true, but it might have also been because of how secretive investigators were being with the case. They were barely releasing any information besides the basics to the press, so no one knew how much progress on a killer profile they had made at that point in time.
"I won't get hurt. They can't find me, and if they did that still doesn't mean they wouldn't be able to catch me," he paused for a moment to think before speaking up again. "If you really feel unsafe here, I have other secure places we can go." The place he had in mind was a small cabin around three hours away. It was up in the mountains, surrounded by forests. Despite that, it was well kept- as it was owned by his previous foster family, and they kept it up to date year round.
