forum some experimenting (One on One) (Open)

Started July 17, 2019 by @Desvelarse pets

tune

Ilya nodded with stiff movements, bringing a hand up to rub lightly at the bruise on his neck. It was no longer sending off prickly waves of pain thanks to Vaughn, but it ached whenever he moved. "When will you be coming over?"

Vaughn scratched at his jaw in thought. There was a bit of stubble beginning to form. He needed to shave before he went. “I’ll be over at about 5:30. Unless I should be over earlier,” he responded. He might get a bit of food before he headed over. Should he just invite Ilya?

A quick check of his watch revealed the time- 2:30- which mean Ilya would be waiting for three hours. His lips pressed into a thin line as he curled up on the bench, attempting to settle in for a long wait. "5:30 is fine. Knock three times so I know it's you, please."

Vaughn nodded his head a bit. “I will do that, yes,” he replied to Ilya’s request. “But I do have to ask.. I frankly haven’t eaten anything sustaining all day- I was thinking about grabbing a late lunch if you would like to join me.” ’Want to be around the pretty boy, Finley?’ the voices snickered, and he shook them off. He was being polite. Sure Ilya was attractive, but he was a client. He needed to have restraint. It wasn’t good for Ilya to get involved with him.

The look Ilya gave him was a mix of hopeful and disbelieving. Coffee, pain killers, and lunch? It was almost too much. Still, he wasn't really in a position to brush of charity. Especially not if it was coming from someone who'd been nothing but kind. "Are you sure? I… I don't have anything to give you in return."

“I’m completely sure. I don't want anything from you in return,” Vaughn said, tilting his head a bit. “I don’t have company very much. Not anyone real, at least,” he said, thinking the figure and voices didn’t count. “So having clients are my one way to socialize.” And it was true. His only friends were Veronica and Manuel. And even then he barely saw them in person. He would spend weeks alone at a time. Of course it got lonely. But talking to clients, even just about the job, was something that kept him sane.

"Oh… um… thank you, then. I haven't gone out to eat in ages." Ilya uncurled on the bench and rose to his feet, movements slow and stilted from various aches and pains. He fidgeted with the collar of his turtleneck, annoyed by the way it refused to cover the top of his bruise. The last thing he wanted was for someone to think Vaughn had given it to him. "Where will we be going?"

Vaughn stood up from where he was sitting, looking down at Ilya. He stuffed his hands into the pocket of his hoodie as his fingers twitched. “There’s a small diner nearby that had good food. We can go there.” He looked around them before looking back at Ilya. “Does that sound ok?”

Ilya nodded, a small smile inching its way onto his face. Today was shaping up to be the best he'd had in years and he was surprised to notice that he felt… excited. It had been a long time since he'd had something to look forward to. "That sounds lovely."

The corners of Vaughn’s lips quirked up to form a faint ghost of a smile. “Great. It’s a short walk from here,” he said, taking a few steps along the path out of the park, making sure that Ilya was following him before he continued to walk.

Ilya followed him, matching pace so they were walking in synch and he wouldn't get left behind. He itched to stroll up beside Vaughn and take his hand, maybe loop their arms together and lean against him, but that was… that was definitely not allowed. Vaughn hadn't liked it when Ilya held his hand Wednesday and he wouldn't like it now. Still, the thought brought a slight blush to his cheeks. "What kind of food do they serve? And… um… do they have desserts?"

Little did Ilya know, Vaughn was tempted to do the same. He couldn’t deny his attraction towards the male. Just say that it was a dangerous thing- he was a dangerous thing to get involved with. Besides, he was a serial killer. Ilya knew that. Ilya would be more disgusted by the idea of doing things like hold hands that had been used to kill, he assumed. “They serve a lot of things. You can get breakfast foods, burgers, chicken… Lots of things. And they do have desserts,” he responded, his lips quirking into another little smile. “Have a bit of a sweet tooth?”

Ilya blushed harder and looked down at his feet, shame flooding down his spine. Damian always told him to watch his weight- that sugar would make him fat and disgusting- and he assumed Vaughn was doing the same. Poking fun at his expense. "Not if I'm not allowed to." His voice was quiet and wavering, like that of a child who had just been scolded. "I'm sorry."

Vaughn’s brows raised at that, his smile falling. Why would Ilya be apologizing for wanting something sweet? He was sure it had to do with some sort of shaming from Damian. “Hey, listen,” he said, stopping walking, his tone soft. “You can like that- I’m not judging. I have the biggest sweet tooth myself. Nothing to be ashamed of.” Hesitantly, he took one hand out of his pocket, his fingers lightly brushing Ilya’s in an obviously careful and purposely gentle manner. “I promise.”

Ilya's brain short circulated as Vaughn's hand brushed his, breath hitching as he processed the care Vaughn took to touch him. He linked their fingers with just as much care and smiled as he considered Vaughn's words. Nothing to be ashamed of. It was a lovely thought, one that made butterflies dance in his stomach. "Oh! Then… um… I do have a sweet tooth. I just don't get to feed it very much."

Vaughn’s breath caught in his throat when Ilya intertwined their fingers together. Ilya wasn’t pulling away with disgust. Maybe he hadn’t thought it through. He had killed people with his bare hands. He had done it multiple times. Did that not seem terrible to hold the hand of a serial killer? “Well, order what you’d like for it today. Just treat yourself today,” he said. Of course, he would be paying. He didn’t mind. He had the money from food that Manuel had sent him.

Ilya looked down at their tangled fingers as they walked, cheeks flushed with happiness. Vaughn was so warm. "I couldn't," he insisted quietly. Vaughn had already given him so much, Ilya couldn't bear to repay him by spending his money frivolously. "You don't have to waste money on me. Everything you've promised to do is… more than enough."

“If I didn’t want to do this, I wouldn’t be,” Vaughn told Ilya, glancing down at the male. “I don’t have much else to spend the money I was given on. I enjoy doing these things for others.” His fingers twitched in the slightest against Ilya’s, and he barely noticed the normal tic. The figure walked beside him, staring with its eyeless face and grinning that sinister grin the whole entire time.

Ilya bit his cheek to keep from flinching when Vaughn's hand twitched in his, mostly succeeding. No matter how jumpy he was, he wanted to hold onto this moment between Vaughn and himself, to keep it going for as long as he could. "If you say so," he mumbled, feeling completely spoiled. "You should share what I get with me, then. That way you get something out of it too."

Vaughn noticed the slight tension after his fingers twitched. He thought he should explain himself. “Don’t worry about my fingers. They’ve done that since I was a kid, it just happens sometimes. An old doctor thought there was something wrong with the nerves in my fingers that caused them to do that,” he explained with a little shrug. He listened to Ilya talk about sharing a dessert. “Deal. We can do that.”

Ilya relaxed some at the explanation, a bit ashamed about his reaction to the harmless tic. "I'm sorry. I just… um… I don't really like sudden movements. Especially if it's twitchy fingers. Damian always… he always does that with his hands when he's mad and looking for something to grab, so…" Ilya's voice trailed off and he shrugged, trying to deflect any worry Vaughn might have by making the information seem inconsequential.

“Don’t apologize, it’s ok. You have a reason to be nervous about this. Just try to remember that I’m not going to hurt you. I promised I wouldn’t, didn’t I?” Vaughn asked, raising his brows a tad. After a minute or two longer if walking, they reached the diner. He paused outside the doors and noticed a bruise on Ilya’s neck continued to show. “Do you.. want this? It could cover your neck up,” he offered, gesturing to the hoodie he was wearing.

Ilya's hands went to his neck unconsciously, pulling up on the turtleneck even though the gesture was useless. It slipped down his neck again after a few seconds, bruise peeking out over the top like it was mocking him. "Yes please." Ilya would die of shame if someone tried to 'save' him from Vaughn. He unlinked their fingers with a mournful sigh.

Vaughn tugged off his red hoodie, revealing his fitting white t-shirt underneath. He handed over the hoodie before fixing his hair up a bit. The hoodie smelt of cologne, mint, and slight traces of whiskey. He wouldn’t call himself an alcoholic, but he did like to have a few drinks every night. When Ilya had put it on, he smiled in the slightest. “There, all covered,” he said. And it was true, the sweatshirt was quite large on Ilya. He reached out, his fingers interlacing with Ilya’s again as he went inside.

"All covered," Ilya echoed, struggling to find his hands in the seemingly endless folds of the sweater. A tenuous smile flitted across his face, strengthening into a slightly dazed grin when Vaughn took his hand again. The smell of whiskey on the hoodie was unpleasant, but Ilya liked the other things. The mint and the cologne and something uniquely Vaughn that made his insides all fuzzy. It took no time at all for them to find a table, and soon a waitress had wandered over to hand out menus and take their drink orders.