Backdated to August 2016
There weren’t many things that Ilian could claim frightened him, especially not after joining the Negaverse and placing himself into countless situations that were dangerous or even life threatening. He wasn’t afraid of death, having been surrounded by it all his life, but as the nightmares continued, he realized it was the darkness and feeling of being trapped that scared him more than anything.
So when he quickly entered and practically slammed the door to his apartment behind him, his face was pale and lowered in shame to the ground and he mumbled to Lovely as he sat by the couch in front of the television, “I quit my job.”
It had been the logical choice, especially after everything that had happened. Things he didn’t want to talk about being forced to the surface, and even worse were the sources of his unwillingness to speak about anything.
“He was there… he came in to order food. I couldn’t do it, Lovely…” he practically rambled, swallowing thickly as he tried to explain himself, because now that he’d escaped, he realized how horrible of a situation he’d put both himself and Lovely in. “I’m so stupid… I didn’t even think about needing another job. I’m sorry I’ll… I’ll start looking right away, but I just… couldn’t.”
Lovely was not expecting Ilian home until much later that evening.
Sitting on the floor with his back against the couch, slouching over the coffee table, Lovely had a pencil in his hand and a sketchbook laid out in front of him, which he quickly flipped shut at the first sound of keys in the lock. When Ilian came into the apartment, Lovely hunched a little further over the coffee table, shielding his closed sketchbook with his arms like he was trying to hide something illicit. It wasn’t until a few moments later — when Ilian’s words registered and Lovely noticed how pale he looked — that Lovely felt a little more confident that his book full of doodles was probably going to go unnoticed.
It took him, perhaps, a little longer than it should have to piece Ilian’s ramblings together. Lovely was so focused on the sudden surprise of Ilian being there that the rest of it got a bit lost in his brain before it finally clicked.
“Oh…” he said, because he didn’t know what else he was supposed to say to that, because Ilian still hadn’t told him anything about Logan, so he was left making a bunch of assumptions that may or may not be true.
Based on what he assumed, though, Lovely thought Ilian up and leaving his job now that Logan knew where he worked was completely understandable.
“Well, you could afford this dump on your own before I moved in, so we’ll probably be alright until you can find something else,” he said, with more nonchalance in his voice than actual reassurance, because he still wasn’t really all that great at reassuring anyone.
“I make more than you, anyway,” he added. “Chill out. It’s not the end of the world. It’s not like we’re going to starve if you don’t work for a while. At most we should probably not rely on the car so much and get around by bus and bike so we can save on gas.”
Ilian didn’t know what to do other than stand there against the door, staring down at his feet in shame, his cheeks heating with embarrassment and self loathing for not being able to handle something that shouldn’t be a big deal. But it was. And he didn’t know how to face it more than he already was.
Even if that meant running away.
He was vaguely aware that he had interrupted Lovely in the middle of doing something. Sketching perhaps? But he couldn’t see what was on the table, and he didn’t think Lovely had any intention of showing him, whatever it was.
Even with Lovely saying things like how they would be fine, Ilian still felt as though he should be able to handle everything better than he was. He was an adult, after all.
So, why did he feel like such a child?
He’d held it back as long as it took to get home, but now that he was behind closed doors and in the presence of someone he trusted, tears welled in Ilian’s eyes, and he slowly lowered himself down to the ground so he could bury his face against his knees, his almost unruly curly hair hopefully hiding the rest of his face, his arms wrapping around his knees.
He knew Lovely would probably call him pathetic for crying like he was, but there were too many emotions for him to hold back. The only way he could release them was through crying, as stupid as that was.
If Ilian was pathetic for crying, then Lovely was pretty pathetic, too. Probably worse, even. He would not soon forget his humiliating breakdown after running away, sitting in Trish’s kitchen sobbing about stupid s**t like not knowing how to cook or do laundry. At least Ilian had more of a reason to cry than being a ******** helpless, spoiled brat. Ilian was… humiliated, maybe. Afraid? And that was understandable, if what Lovely suspected about Logan was true.
That did not mean Lovely had any idea what he was supposed to do when Ilian sat down on the floor and started crying. He didn’t want to ask about Logan because a part of him didn’t think he could stomach having his suspicions confirmed, and he didn’t want to make Ilian talk about it when Ilian was already so messed up about what happened. Lovely felt completely out of his element. This wasn’t the first time Ilian cried in front of him and he was pretty sure it wasn’t going to be the last, and it got more and more awkward every time, because Lovely was more and more convinced that he should be doing something, he just didn’t know what that something was.
He sat at the coffee table for a while, watching Ilian cry into his knees. Then, when he couldn’t bear that anymore, Lovely glanced down at the cover of his sketchbook. He rolled his pencil over the surface of the coffee table, feeling tense and out of place. He must seem so selfish. Ilian didn’t seem any more knowledgeable about what to do when Lovely was upset, but at least Ilian tried.
Swallowing nervously, Lovely stood up to make his way to the door. He sat down next to Ilian, careful not to touch him. He didn’t know if Ilian could handle that right now, or if it would make him uncomfortable. Lovely didn’t really know how to touch him anyway, not in a manner that might be comforting. He drew his legs up to his chest and, through a rip in his jeans, picked at a scab on one of his knees from a fight with a Senshi the other night, struggling to find something appropriate to say.
“I meant it when I said we’ll be alright,” Lovely said, a little low to disguise how apprehensive he was. “I still have most of the money I took out of my account before Claude closed everything down. You could afford this place on your own, so… I can, too. You can even take some time off if you want. Look around for something else. Or just… rest. Or whatever. Focus on your music for a little while.”
Ilian had no idea what he was doing, or how to explain himself, or to pick himself back up after everything. Even with the Negaverse he didn’t really know what to do. He felt like he was at a dead end. There wasn’t much more for him other than to continue doing what he was doing. But that was okay, right? That’s all they needed him to do; continue getting energy and all that.
He tried to control himself, he really did. He tried to stop himself from crying like a child. He was not a child and he didn’t want anyone looking at him like he was one. Yet, even with Lovely there, he couldn’t seem to stop the stupid tears from falling.
Lovely was moving around. Ilian could hear him, even though he didn’t look up to see. He could feel the air move as he sat down beside him, sitting there for a while without saying anything. This was Lovely’s attempt at comforting him, Ilian knew. Lovely wasn’t exactly the most touchy feely person, especially when he came to comforting, and Ilian was fine with that. He’d grown not to expect any kind of physical touches from Lovely when it came to him being upset, and that was fine.
That just meant Ilian would have to cling harder to his own knees, because he wanted to stop crying and just… move on with trying to figure out what to do next.
When Lovely finally spoke, Ilian couldn’t help the surprise he felt, because it wasn’t like Lovely to offer comfomfort. Especially without any swear words thrown in. It took a long time for Ilian to lift his head, but he eventually did, scrubbing at his face with his sleeve as he glanced over to where Lovely was sitting.
“I wouldn’t want t-to do that to you,” he sniffled, scrubbing again at his nose. “I should be working too. That was part of the agreement for me not going back to foster care,” he mumbled, really, really not wanting to go back.
“Can they send you back? You’ve been legally emancipated since you turned sixteen,” Lovely said. “Doesn’t that mean you’re free to do whatever the ******** you want?”
Lovely didn’t know how any of that s**t worked. He never bothered to look into it, because it wasn’t as if it applied to him. He ran away from home and his family just… let him. Sort of. There was that whole thing with Claude coming by to take him back, but Claude hadn’t tried anything like that since, and neither Dorian nor their mother seemed very concerned with forcing him to live with them again. He still benefited from his mother’s guardianship even if they didn’t live under the same roof anymore. Admittedly, it was a bit of a weird situation, but so long as he could do whatever the ******** he wanted, Lovely didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about it.
They’d both be eighteen next year anyway. Lovely thought it was pretty stupid that anyone would bother trying to force Ilian back into the system for only a year over something like a job at a burger joint — a job that could be replaced if absolutely necessary.
“Even if you weren’t, you’re allowed some time to find a different job,” Lovely continued. “Just… don’t feel like you have to rush because of me, is all I’m saying. The holiday season starts up in a couple of months, so you’ll have your holiday job, and if it really becomes that big of a ******** issue that you’re not working, I can get you a job at the store. They like me there.”
Lovely wouldn’t say it, but he thought working in the same place might actually be sort of… nice.
Convenient, he mentally corrected himself. It would be convenient. Not nice. “Nice” implied something stupid, like wanting to see Ilian’s dumb face during working hours, or some sappy horseshit like that. They could go on break together. Or have lunch regularly. Or... stuff.
Annoyed by the weird path his brain was taking, Lovely dug his nail a little more firmly against the scab on his knee and succeeded in picking off a small piece. A miniscule amount of blood welled up in its place.
Ilian shrugged, because he really didn’t know what anyone could do any more. He thought that the people who were supposed to keep him and his brother safe would do just that. He thought he would still have a family at only seventeen. He thought he would still be in school, or maybe writing music with his father and brother, or singing with his mother. There were a lot of things he thought would be that could never happen. So if they decided to send him back even after being emancipated, he wouldn’t be surprised.
But Lovely was sitting there, offering him suggestions and trying, trying to be supportive. At least as supportive as Lovely could be when it came to things like this. He knew the other was uncomfortable with the crying and all that, but he appreciated his company nonetheless.
“You really think they’d hire me there?” he asked with a small, sniffling laugh, lifting his hand to scrub at his face some more, because he was trying to get the stupid tears to stop. He hated feeling this way; feeling pathetic and helpless. He was a General of the Negaverse! He should have more control over his emotions than this.
“What, as a cashier? Aren’t you always complaining about them?” he asked, having heard plenty of Lovely’s stories about how he ended up doing all the work for other people because the cashiers were lazy. Still, working at the same place Lovely did would be very convenient. And he kind of liked the idea of being able to see him during the day.
“Well, I guess it’ll be good that I won’t smell like grease all the time any more,” he pointed out, trying to lighten the conversation since Lovely seemed pretty tense, too.
“They hired me and I’m a massive b***h,” Lovely said. “And they actually like me for some reason, but you’re a ******** nicer to people than I am, so they’d probably like you even better.”
Ilian’s voice was beginning to sound a little more stable. Lovely had no idea if what he was saying was helpful at all or if Ilian was just getting tired out from crying already. One would think that after the last several months of living with Ilian, Lovely would have a better grasp on what to do when Ilian was upset. It wasn’t as if Ilian didn’t have other reasons to cry. His life kind of sucked. Plus, he got himself beat up by White Mooners a lot, so there were angry, frustrated tears along with all the sad, miserable ones.
But it still made Lovely severely uncomfortable. Which meant he ended up annoyed and pissed off, because he hated feeling awkward. He was trying his best to reign it in now. If he focused on finding a solution to the job issue, Lovely didn’t have to think about how inept he was at offering comfort. Having to find a job on relatively short notice was something he’d had to deal with after running away. He could handle that, if nothing else.
“Cashier, support, whatever you want,” he continued. “You have experience on a register already, so it’s not like they’d be training someone without a ******** clue. You could even work down in the photo studio. Spend everyday trying to get nasty, slobbery brat kids to smile.”
He tried to make it sound like a joke, but Lovely wasn’t really the type for humor to begin with, so it probably came off sounding flat.
At least the fact that Ilian was trying to lighten the mood was reassuring. That meant he was working on getting himself back under control, so Lovely didn’t feel such a strong urge to do something, even if he knew he should make some sort of an attempt. With no other ideas, Lovely leaned back against the door, rolling his head to the side to glance at Ilian. He thought about taking Ilian’s hand, but that seemed sort of foolish. They didn’t really do hand-holding; Lovely didn’t think either of them were the type. Maybe. Lovely wasn’t really sure. Once, he didn’t think he was the type to go around kissing anyone, but he’d done a lot more than that with Ilian.
“Kind of sucks that I won’t get free fries anymore, though,” Lovely said. His voice was light enough this time that he thought the humor might come across a little more successfully.
He hated being so emotional, but at least he thought he did a pretty good job with making sure it was behind closed doors and away from people in the Negaverse who would look at him like he was just a child. At least he didn’t cry in front of other Generals. Maybe in front of Jericho, but he was already used to Ilian being emotional. After all, they’d known each other for quite a while.
Lovely he’d known significantly less time, but Lovely had been the one to help him when he needed extra care after being kidnapped. He’d been in an argument with Jericho just prior to disappearing, so he had no idea if the other even knew he was involved in this.
And it was obvious that Lovely was trying. Or at least Ilian thought he was trying. Or maybe he wasn’t and Ilian just got things into his head that weren’t really true.
He saw Lovely lean back against the door out of the corner of his eye, and after scrubbing his face once more he leaned back as well, turning his head enough to look at Lovely in turn. His lips twitched for just a moment at the joke about not getting free fries.
“Maybe I’ll apply then,” he agreed quietly, his voice still sounding a bit hoarse from crying, but at least he was calming down enough now to consider other options. After all, it wasn’t as though he could go back to the burger joint if Logan knew where he worked.
“You don’t think I could get nasty, slobbery brat kids to smile?” he half joked back, although he couldn’t really see himself enjoying something like that, or maybe he would, he wasn’t sure.
“Whether or not you could isn’t the problem,” Lovely said. “The problem is being around the nasty, slobbery brat kids.”
He stuck out his tongue to demonstrate his disgust. It wasn’t an expression he was able to maintain for long, because Ilian was looking at him now and Lovely felt a bit out of place. He didn’t know what Ilian wanted from him when these sorts of things happened. He didn’t know what Ilian expected. That was probably a sign that they should talk about things, but having any sort of discussion about feelings was a conversation Lovely would rather avoid for as long as possible.
He didn’t even know what his feelings were. Not entirely. All he really knew was that he had some. They made him restless, like he had too much energy coursing inside of him and needed to find some sort of an outlet or he’d go crazy. His outlet of choice was making out or fooling around, because at least when that stuff was going on he thought the “hey, I kind of like being here and actually sort of care about you” feelings might be a little more obvious than they were otherwise.
Lovely didn’t know if that sort of s**t would be appropriate right now, though. Not with the thought of Logan still looming over them.
Still… the restlessness wasn’t going away even if Ilian’s tears were drying up. Lovely still felt stupid, like everything he did was totally inadequate. Normally he wouldn’t care, but with Ilian he did. Ilian at least made an effort to help when Lovely was upset, even if there was a chance his attempt might end in complete failure.
So Lovely swallowed nervously again, then leaned over and pressed his mouth against Ilian’s. It was light and sort of awkward, not as well practiced as their kissing had become in recent months. Lovely felt tense and off balance. He wasn’t even sure if he should be doing this right now, or if it was only going to make things worse.
But it was something. That had to count a little, right?
Ilian let out a small snort of a laugh at Lovely’s face, because Lovely was always so expressive about things, especially about the things he didn’t like. The things he did like was more difficult to figure out because he didn’t seem to really know what to do. He was a spoiled brat who was used to getting his way, so showing gratitude or affection or whatever was, well… it didn’t seem to be something he was used to, or at least not comfortable with because it wasn’t something he was shown or expected to show.
But Lovely was looking at him now, and Ilian wasn’t sure how to interpret what he might be thinking. Especially not when Lovely suddenly leaned over to press their mouths together.
He felt his eyes widen just for a moment in surprise, but he didn’t pull away. Lovely looked uncomfortable, and Ilian knew it might have to do with everything that had happened in the past few days, what with his breakdown in public, and then coming home to tell Lovely he just quit because Logan knew where he worked now.
For a long moment, Ilian didn’t do anything. He wasn’t sure if doing anything would be good or bad or if it would just make things more awkward for Lovely. It wasn’t as though he showed this kind of affection to anyone but Lovely, so he wasn’t sure if he was even doing it right.
And then he slowly pressed a kiss back, breaking it after several long moments.
“Thank you for being with me,” he said quietly, not really sure what else to say in that moment, but he was extremely relieved that he wasn’t alone.
Lovely was not the affectionate type.
He didn’t mind receiving affection. Sometimes. It was alright during certain occasions; some situations were more annoying than others. But his mother was very free with her love, so Lovely was no stranger to having his face patted or his hair petted. He knew what it felt like to be hugged and cuddled, and he didn’t always struggle away when that happened. Mostly because struggling never stopped his mother, but also because there were moments (rare though they might be) when he didn’t really mind the attention. He was just very selective about the timing and the people involved.
Giving affection was entirely different. He didn’t really know why that was the case, though he expected it might have something to do with growing up around two emotionally distant older brothers. Lovely didn’t generally develop strong bonds with people. When he did, he only had his mother’s behavior to use as an example, but her pattern of overwhelming affection followed by long periods of absence wasn’t something Lovely thought he could mimic. Certainly not with Ilian. Their relationship was obviously much different than the one Lovely had with his mother.
Feeling pressure returned against his mouth eased some of the awkwardness. It made the kiss feel mutual instead of one-sided. Lovely was receiving something from it, too. That made the giving a little easier.
He didn’t intend for it to end so soon, but then Ilian was going through a lot. Lovely figured he shouldn’t expect these things to progress like they normally did, considering all that Ilian must have on his mind.
Lovely kept his eyes closed for a little bit. He felt apprehensive enough as it was without looking Ilian in the eye. But he thought just sitting there with his eyes closed must make him look stupid, so Lovely dropped his forehead onto Ilian’s shoulder and tried not to feel weird when Ilian thanked him for something that seemed like a totally obvious thing to do.
Of course, Lovely didn’t really know if Ilian was thanking him for this or for being around over the last several months.
“You’re so ******** stupid,” Lovely said. It sounded too quiet to be truly disparaging. His voice was low, but oddly warm, like he wanted to say something nice in return but didn’t know how, so he put tenderness into an insult because it was easier to express that way.
He didn’t want to pressure Lovely into anything. He’d already steamrolled him with the whole… having weird dreams about him dying, so that was difficult enough as it was. And then for him to have the issues with Logan come up, well… there were plenty of things that was going on that made it awkward, but he did appreciate Lovely staying with him.
When his head dropped onto his shoulder, Ilian didn’t do anything that might discourage him, or make it seem like he didn’t want Lovely to be near him. He liked it whenever Lovely showed any amount of affection, but knew it wasn’t something to expect.
“I know. I’m sorry,” he said softly in return, and while he didn’t want to make Lovely move away, Ilian couldn’t help but lean his own head over to rest against Lovely’s, his hand reaching out to place against Lovely’s leg instead of grabbing for his hand, because he felt as though that wasn’t as touchy feely or whatever Lovely didn’t like.
“I’ll figure something out,” he promised, trying not to be too affectionate as he nuzzled his face into Lovely’s perfect blond hair. “I’m sorry for being like this,” he said with a hiccuping sigh, still sniffling some as he picked at the fabric of Lovely’s pants.
It wasn’t even as though Ilian was used to affection, himself. He’d lost his parents when he was eight, and then Sorin a few years ago, and Sorin had been the teasingly affectionate type. Why he’d kissed Lovely that first time, Ilian wasn’t entirely sure, except it had seemed like the right thing to do at the time.
Lovely didn’t always mind the touchy-feely stuff.
They tended to sleep close enough to touch more often than not. During the colder months, Lovely had a habit of putting his feet or hands on Ilian during the night to keep them warm. That wasn’t really necessary in the middle of summer, when they had nothing to rely on to keep them cool other than a ceiling fan, a rotating fan on the dresser, and a crappy air-conditioning unit in the window, but they still had a habit of shifting close together even if it was a little sweaty and uncomfortable. Part of that was probably instinctive at this point, but it was still a thing that happened that Lovely thought meant physical contact was okay.
This was just a weird situation all around, and he had a hard time figuring out if he was doing the whole comfort thing right. There was a part of Lovely that still thought he shouldn’t have bothered because his attempt sucked so bad, but Ilian seemed to be responding to it okay. Ilian’s hand on his leg must indicate that touch was not unwelcome, even if Ilian spent more time picking at the ratty ripped jeans Lovely was wearing than moving his hand in any sort of caress.
“I meant it, though,” Lovely said, his voice still low, and a little slow now, too, like he was unsure how to word anything. “When I said you could just… take a break. Focus on something else if you want, even if it’s just for a couple of months. I can handle the bills on my own for a while.”
They might end up stretched a little thin, what with the car payment on top of all the bills Ilian had before Lovely moved in, but it wouldn’t be terrible.
Having his hair nuzzled was weird because it felt like a very tender gesture, but it was also comforting. Lovely shifted to press more of his face into Ilian’s shoulder. He could smell the grease on him still but chose not to mention it. Shitty as the situation was, Lovely was sort of relieved that smell wouldn’t be around much longer.
“So don’t feel like you have to do anything… right now…” he continued. “I’m not as ******** helpless as I used to be, okay? Don’t start thinking stupid s**t like… like you have to take care of me ‘cause you feel guilty that I’m here or whatever dumb bullshit you get in your head when you’re moping about how much s**t sucks. I’m just as capable of handling this s**t. More, probably, since I’m not the ******** idiot who always gets into trouble.”
The soft way in which Lovely was talking to him was, well it wasn’t really surprising, but Lovely tended to be more brash and loud about, well, everything. So the encouragement, while it wasn’t completely out of the blue, was more of a rare thing than Lovely maybe realized. Or maybe he did realize it and that was why he was offering it now.
“Sorry,” he mumbled again as Lovely pointed out all the things about Ilian and himself, but the apology was soft, not quite amused, but it wasn’t all that guilty sounding either. “I can’t promise I won’t keep getting into trouble,” he half joked, his hand gripping onto Lovely’s leg for a few moments.
Their relationship was, well, it wasn’t all that normal, or at least Ilian didn’t think so. It was convenient yes, but he also cared about Lovely where he wasn’t entirely sure Lovely felt the same. There was intimacy between them and arguing and quiet moments like this.
Ilian wasn’t sure really what to think about it, and he was sure Lovely wouldn’t want to talk about it.
“I’ll take a little while off. Maybe work on my music,” he said quietly, his head still resting on Lovely’s. There were plenty of thoughts going through his head, but he decided to settle on something simple to respond with. This way at least Lovely would see that he was willing to try and get over everything. After all, it happened so long ago that he should be over it by now, right?
“Thank you,” he said again, just as quietly as before, but this time he turned his head enough to press a small kiss to the top of Lovely’s head.
Okay, the kiss to the head was sort of… weird, yes, but something more than that, too. Definitely heading a little too close to the tender s**t Lovely’s brain didn’t seem to know how to process. It was sweet, which meant it was gross, which meant Lovely squirmed in response and ended up lifting his head from Ilian’s shoulder so Ilian wouldn’t do it again (at least for now), because delicate little kisses were not at all Lovely’s forté. How was he supposed to respond to that? What was he supposed to do?
Lovely turned his head to stare at Ilian again, making an effort to keep his expression flat rather than allowing any of his confusion or awkwardness to bleed through. Then he sighed through his nose and rolled his eyes to try and play off anything mushy that might have just passed between them.
“Dumbass,” he mumbled.
When in doubt, make use of an insult.
The problem with that, of course, was that it didn’t exactly sound hostile right then. There was the tiniest shred of warmth in Lovely’s voice, so infinitesimal Ilian was probably the only person in the world who would have noticed the difference.
Huffing another breath, Lovely pulled himself away and climbed back onto his feet. He averted his eyes as he did so, trying to play it cool as he returned to the coffee table to retrieve his sketchbook and pencil.
“I’m making tea,” he announced.
He didn’t ask if Ilian wanted any, and he didn’t expect Ilian to make the request. The implication was already there. “I’m going to make tea for both of us.”
Lovely made his way into the kitchen without another word.
