A/N
Starting to catch up to the plotline I've had planned for a while now!
I've been thinking of putting all this on an LJ journal, complete with the art that Arafel is doing (and has done) for it. Would anyone from here be interested in following there?
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As Toris lay in bed that Tuesday morning, waiting for his alarm to go off, he thought. Thought that he wouldn't have to lay in bed thinking, when he should be sleeping, if he wasn't an orderly. If he had met Ivan any other way, this wouldn't be such an issue. Well, it would be difficult to date a patient, but Ivan was an intermediate as of right now. He was a Level One, those patients whom society had not yet abandoned. Though he had been in the institution for three years so far, he was still in therapy to eventually being released out into the world. He had freedoms that the patients in Level Two didn't. Mainly, he could be unsupervised in his free time, and he was allowed to go outside. Also, he was allowed to date.
But not an orderly. That was a conflict of interests, and it left too much room for abuse. Toris could very well understand the reason behind such a rule. It would be easy for an orderly or a doctor to press their authority onto a patient in order to obtain sexual favors. However he didn't quite know the rule about patients being the ones to push for something physical… It wasn't as if Ivan had taken things any further than kissing… yet. Toris had no idea when or if he would try and move things along. After all, Ivan was a (physically) healthy man of 24! Then again with the medication that he was on, it would be hard to have those kinds of urges. A semi-convenient side effect right now.
And of course there was the matter of knowing one another. Though he had been much younger, Ivan was said to have burned down his house—with his father inside! Now, knowing of the Russian's past, Toris could almost understand why he would do it. But that didn't make up for murder—accidental or not. Toris knew a lot about Ivan, he could read his file and look up his past as much as was allowed. Ivan on the other hand knew almost nothing about the orderly. He could ask or the Lithuanian could tell, but Toris was more than a little uncomfortable with sharing his past. He knew it wasn't fair, but what could he do about it? Ivan's reputation of being manipulative was intimidating, and the last thing he wanted was for some of his more sensitive secrets to be exploited. The Institution was a work place, not somewhere to share everything about yourself.
The alarm sounded beside him and he jumped, sitting up to turn it off. Sighing as he ran his fingers through his hair, he glanced behind him to the picture on his wall. Ivan's matryoshka painting, all of them with their fanciful creatures and smiling faces. All except for the last doll, the smallest. It was left blank, empty… He still didn't know what it meant. Maybe if he could figure out, he might actually get a step closer to understanding the Russian. Or, it could be that it held no particular meaning at all. There was no way of knowing for sure, as Ivan sure wasn't telling.
Soon enough Toris arrived at work, and it was business as usual. Alfred was sitting on the couch, glaring at the orderlies handing out pills and cups of water. It was better than stealing them again, the brunette supposed. Ivan sat by himself in the corner as usual, though he pulled down his scarf to smile when Toris spotted him. The smile was infectious, and the orderly was smiling back as he turned to head for the safe room. No angry doctors, no new faces, no bad news from the gossip-loving Sarah. Who by the way, looked a little upset over something. Toris stopped, frowning a little in worry. "What's wrong?" He asked her quietly. Michael, putting pills into cups, gave a laugh.
"She got dumped."
"I did not get dumped! We weren't even dating or anything, he was just a friend." Sarah shot back.
"Yeah, with benefits." The other orderly laughed again. He glanced to the brunette. "You know the night shift, Heracles?"
"Ah, I've met him once…" Toris nodded.
"I asked him what he thought about going steady, and do you know what he said?" Sarah jumped in again, and before Toris could even respond she continued. "He said 'Hm', and turned the page on his Homo book or whatever!" Toris blinked.
"…You mean Homer? The Greek poet?" He asked with a slightly raised eyebrow. Michael was laughing, and the sandy-blond glared.
"Who cares! It was insensitive, like he didn't even care that I was in the same room as him! And after we…" Her face flushed, and Toris cleared his throat.
"I should go and put my things away!" He said with a tense smile, and she nodded her head.
"Yes, right, I have medication to hand out!" She agreed, waving her hand as Toris headed off. He entered the break room with a slight sigh, heading for the lockers. Looks like there was something new every day, if not with the patients then with the staff. While he supposed any job would have gossip amongst the employees it didn't mean that he wanted to be a part of it. Lord knew what they would have to say about him if he told them anything.
When Toris came back out of the break room he spotted Antonio. In front of him was Yao, talking animatedly about something. His hand motions were short and quick, and Toris didn't like the expression on his face. Antonio on the other hand was smiling effortlessly, despite Dr. Wong's irritated expression. Toris wished he could smile that easily in a situation like that. As he left the safe room Yao paused, dark eyes shifting over to the brunette who nearly froze in his tracks. The Asian sighed, placing his hands on his hips. "Fine," He said to the Spaniard, frowning. "But don't say I didn't warn you!" He looked back to Dr. Carriedo. Antonio nodded.
"Sí, sí!" He said with his casual smile. Yao frowned, but he didn't press his issue further, turning on his heel and heading for the door leading upstairs, to the offices. Toris approached the friendly doctor now, tying his hair back as he did.
"May I ask?" He said curiously. The doctor turned his smile onto the orderly, giving a small shrug.
"Ivan suddenly wanted to join group therapy. Yao thinks it's a bad idea, but I said to give him a chance. He's been in solo-therapy for almost two years, I think it would be good to get him back into the group setting. He has to learn to get along with others some time, right?" Antonio put his hands into the pockets of his white coat. Toris smiled, nodding.
"I agree." Though he wondered what had changed the Russian's mind. Yao had said that Ivan was disruptive in group therapy hadn't he? He felt hopeful though. If Ivan learned to get along with others, it would mean a step in the direction of recovery.
When Toris and Antonio reached the therapy room they found several patients waiting for them. Lovino sat slumped in his chair, picking at his nails, and Alfred was sitting backwards in his, arms crossed over the back of it and chin resting on them. Gilbert slipped into the room, collapsing into his chair with a smile next to him at an empty seat. Alfred grinned, moving to stand when Antonio held up his hand. "Ah-ah!" He warned, and the golden-haired patient sat down with an unhappy look on his face. Toris sighed as he wandered over to a table, hopping up to sit on the edge of it so that he could watch everyone. Jeff came in with a few other patients, including Ivan. The Russian held his scarf up over his nose, though his eyes were smiling. He chose a seat near Alfred, if only so he could see Toris.
After a few moments everyone seemed to be gathered, and Antonio clapped his hands for attention. "Alright everyone!" He said with a smile, "Who wants to start sharing?" Ivan's hand came half-way up, though his eyes never left the Lithuanian. "Alright Ivan! It's been a long time since you've shared so why don't you start off with your introduction!"
"Da," Ivan said, muffled through his scarf.
"Ah, please pull down the scarf first buddy." Antonio waved his hand in a motion of pulling it down. Ivan frowned for a moment, but he slowly lowered his hand to reveal his face. "Good! Now go ahead." The Russian nodded, and he was smiling visibly now.
"My name is Ivan. I am twenty-four years old." He started, but Alfred spoke up loudly.
"Hey, hey, he's speaking Commie, Doc!" He stood up, pointing at Ivan. Antonio waved both hands in a downward motion.
"Sit down Alfred, it's alright. Ivan, why don't you try speaking English for us?" The Spaniard asked, rubbing the back of his head. Violet eyes narrowed even more in amusement, his gaze never leaving the brunette sitting on the table.
"I was born in Russia." He continued. Alfred made to speak up, but Antonio was quicker.
"Now now, if he wants to share in Russian… I guess it's alright." He gave a defeated shrug and Gilbert laughed. Lovino crossed his arms, muttering to himself. Alfred looked rather unhappy, looking like he wanted to say something else. Finally he crossed his arms as well, giving a loud huff.
"Fine." He muttered.
"My father was unkind." Ivan said then, though his smile didn't falter. "He hit my dear mother, and he threatened my sisters. He hit me, too." By this time Antonio had followed the Russian's gaze to Toris, taking note of the orderly's suddenly sad expression. "Often days I was black and blue. I went to school, and I learned. But I was never good enough. The older I got the worse that it became. Mother was getting ill, and father turned all his attentions on me and my sisters." Alfred was giving impatient sighs, but they were ignored. Toris was frowning, sitting uncomfortably in his seat. He glanced to Antonio, who was watching him, biting his lip as he looked back to Ivan. "Mother died. He killed her, slowly. He stole her beauty and her will to live. The music played while I was all alone in the dark. I couldn't see… I could only hear. I couldn't do anything else. The fire came to take it all away. I wanted it to. I was happy. And then I was locked away, and my sisters were free." He fell quiet, and so did everyone else. Green eyes turned away, and Ivan sat back in his chair, covering his nose with his scarf again. "I'm finished!" He announced.
Toris was left chewing on his lower lip, trying not to meet those prying eyes. Ivan's story gave him the chills for more than one reason. For one, there was the comparison… And for two, Ivan had spoken of the fire. It was something that Toris desperately wanted to know about, considering his growing feelings for the Russian. While he had known about the abuse from Yao, did Ivan know he knew? Or had he admitted it on his own? Antonio cleared his throat, spreading his hands.
"Alright! So, who wants to go next?" He asked as he glanced around. Gilbert sat up straight, raising his hand and grinning. "Gilbert! Go ahead." The German chuckled.
"Ich bin Gilbert! Ich komme aus Deutschland!" He announced loudly. Alfred's eyes went wide, and he stood up again, hands on the back of the chair.
"Hey hey hey, he can't do that!"
"If Ivan can do it then so can I!" Gilbert defended, glancing beside him and making another comment in German. Lovino glared at them both, curling his lip slightly.
"Idioti!" He cursed, turning his head away.
"That's not fair!" Alfred protested. "I only speak Americanese!" He threw up his hands, falling back into his seat. Gilbert was still rambling on in German, and Lovino was soon shouting at him to shut up. Antonio rose from his seat to wave his hands downwards again, his smile growing tense at last as he tried to talk them down. Ivan sat back and watched it all, lowering his scarf to his chin as Toris glanced back with a frown. So this was what Yao meant when he said that Ivan caused disruptive behavior… The Russian was smiling, as if he truly enjoyed the chaos. When he caught Toris staring however, he seemed to pause.
"Ah," He spoke up as he leaned forward. At that quiet sound and subtle movement, everything seemed to come to a halt. All eyes turned to Ivan, and he obviously enjoyed the attention. "Why doesn't Toris share with us?" He asked with a smile. The Lithuanian's face felt hot suddenly, and he raised his hands as if in defense.
"Wha—me? No, I'm not…" He tried to protest. Unfortunately Alfred perked up.
"Hey, yeah! I wanna hear from him too!" He sat up straight in his chair, smiling. Gilbert and Lovino remained quiet, and there were no complaints from the other patients. Antonio smiled, happy that there was a new line of distraction.
"I think it's a great idea! You're new here, Toris! I share all the time too, you know. Like how when I was little, and I found this teeny tiny baby turtle…" There was a small chorus of groans from the patients, and he pouted somewhat. "Alright, alright." Taking his seat again, he waved his hand to Toris. "Go ahead, Toris." He said with another smile. Toris was chewing his lower lip, looking rather obviously uncomfortable. When he spoke up, his voice was quiet.
"My… My name is Toris." He said.
"Speak up, speak up!" Ivan prompted. Toris frowned, raising his voice.
"My name is Toris. I'm nineteen years old." He tried again.
"Much better." Ivan grinned.
"Same age as me!" Alfred chimed in, and the Russian shot him a glare.
"Sshh!" He chastised. Alfred glared back, sticking out his tongue. They both looked back to Toris again quickly, smiling just as quickly. The orderly swallowed.
"I…I was born in Lithuania."
"Where the heck is that?" Alfred frowned.
"If you don't-!" Ivan began to hiss, but Toris stopped him.
"No, it's alright!" He smiled a little. "It's across the Baltic Sea from Sweden. A ways from here." He explained. Alfred slumped a bit.
"Oh." He said simply, though it was clear he had no idea where that was. Toris simply continued.
"I'm here because I'm going to college. I'm studying Psychology, and I hope to be a psychologist some day." He explained. Just as he was getting his confidence up, Ivan budded in.
"What about before?" He asked, raising his eyebrow. Toris faltered, and Antonio glanced to Ivan.
"Now now, he doesn't have to share anything he doesn't want to, Ivan. You remember the rules of group therapy right?" He smiled, and Ivan covered his mouth with his scarf. Toris frowned again.
"Before I came here I went to school in Lithuania, in the capitol Vilnius. My father wasn't around much because of work, and when he was he usually just drank and slept. I have two younger brothers, and they moved here with me." He smiled a bit then. "We were a pretty typical family, I guess. Ah, that's all…" Alfred clapped his hands and Ivan didn't hide his disappointment.
"Thank you, Toris! Alright now, who wants to go next? In English please." Antonio announced, spreading his hands out.
The rest of the long session was relatively peaceful, though Toris couldn't seem to escape Ivan's piercing gaze. The Russian was frowning suspiciously at him, and the longer that things went on, the more uncomfortable that he became. It was as if Ivan knew he was leaving something out—hiding it from everyone else. How could he know any different from what Toris had said? The orderly had never hinted at anything else to him, had he? Slipped up somewhere and given something away? He had no way of knowing how perceptive that Ivan really was. Walking back towards the common room, they were all put on alert by the sound of a shouting voice. Arthur's voice to be specific. There was another voice after his, and Alfred seemed to perk up. Rounding the corner, they could see the two men standing in front of the safe room.
One of them was Arthur of course, and the other was a slightly taller man. His hair was a light blond, hanging in waves to his shoulders, and his chin was stubbly as if he had forgotten to shave. He was wearing nice black slacks and a dark blue silk shirt, and what seemed to be nice black shoes. On his wrist there gleamed a watch, rather expensive looking, and several rings as well. He laughed at Arthur's best frown, and that in and by its self was impressive. But Alfred was nearly jumping up and down, taking off past the orderly in a hurry.
"Mommy!" The golden-haired patient cried out, and the other man turned with a smile. He held out his arms in welcome, but Arthur stepped between them quickly, hands out to keep them apart.
"Oh no you don't!" The Englishman snapped.
"Oof, Alfred! I told you a hundred times, it's 'Big Brother'!" The other man scolded playfully. He moved to step around the angry Dr. Kirkland, but he was stopped by one pointing finger.
"You keep your hands off of him, Bonnefoy!" Arthur demanded. The other held up his hands.
"Please, call me Francis at least you old caterpillar! And don't worry; I won't touch something that belongs to you twice." He said with a grin. Azure eyes moved over their heads, and the Frenchman gave a smile that was somewhat similar to Alfred's charming smile. "Oh-ho, who's this? A new orderly?" At that Arthur glanced over to the hallway, frowning again.
"Toris—"
"Toris?" Francis repeated. The brunette felt an arm wrap around his shoulders from behind, and he was pulled back into a taller, solid body. Looking up, he blinked at the Russian holding him. "Ooh, bonjour Ivan!" The Frenchman waved. "I get it, that one's yours?"
"Da." Ivan gave a nod, and Toris felt his heart skip a beat.
"Give it a rest, Ivan!" Arthur scolded, and Ivan chuckled. Toris gave a small sigh of relief. Everyone seemed to think the Russian was still just playing… "Francis, go home!"
"But he just got here!" Alfred complained, practically pouting.
"Non," Francis shook his head. "I'm here to check in, I told you!" Alfred cheered but Arthur looked positively livid. He crossed his arms and shook his head.
"This isn't a blasted resort!" He argued. The Frenchman pouted.
"I know that, but Matthew kicked me out again! I have nowhere else to go with my problem." He stressed, frowning a little. The American was chuckling, and Arthur seemed to fluster.
"Idioticy can't be cured here!" He spat out.
"Non, non! My," Francis glanced to the safe room, shooting his smile out towards Sarah. "Nymph~o~mania." He drawled, blowing a kiss to the poor girl, who blushed noticeably.
"This is why you can't stay!" Arthur growled. Antonio reached the end of the hall by this time, and he smiled brightly.
"Francis! Back again, I see. Trouble at home?" He asked. Francis smiled.
"You see? Tony understands." The Frenchman held up his hand. "Besides cheri, you don't have a choice, do you?" He grinned, and Toris thought Arthur was going to start steaming in a moment, that face was so red. Hands curled into fists at his sides, he was silent for a moment.
"…Fine." He muttered. Pointing his finger again, he added, "But you touch one orderly or patient and you're out!" He threatened.
"Oui, oui!" Francis smiled in triumph.
"Now go get changed! You can't walk around here in those clothes!" Dr. Kirkland ordered. Francis gave a bow, and Alfred rushed in to hug him. The golden-haired patient was actually at least an inch taller than the Frenchman, but the well-dressed man picked him up at the waist anyway, spinning him around.
"Alright, everyone else!" Antonio clapped his hands. "Art activities are going to start soon, so anyone who wants to come should do so!" He waved his hands. "That means you too Alfred! Francis will join us once he's changed, sí?"
"Oui!" Francis agreed as Alfred detached from him, heading off down the hall in another run, despite Arthur shouting after him to walk.
"You too, Toris. If you can get that monkey off your back there." Antonio smiled, and Ivan practically giggled. Toris blushed, just seeming to realize that he was still being held by the Russian. He stepped forward quickly, released by the blond patient.
"C-come on Ivan." He couldn't meet his eyes, but he urged the other to follow. Ivan did so of course, quite happily.
Ivan was used to saying whatever he liked, no matter how absurd. No one here took him very seriously—no one except for Yao. The Chinese doctor had long ago learned to see through his teasing and down to the core of his statements. Thankfully everyone else was none the wiser, and Yao wasn't up for telling anyone. Sometimes, the other patients caught on. He was quite sure that Alfred knew he was serious about Toris, for example. The American was always sticking his nose into business that wasn't his own. He'd annoyed Ivan on purpose after all! He had to know… And Antonio! The doctor had been staring at his love interest while he spoke in Russian. Had he known that the brunette understood it? Probably, the Spaniard was a clever one. And well, of course Yao knew… that bastard had tried to scare his Lithuanian away!
The Russian was painting again today, it was the only thing he could do. He was no good at drawing, no matter how he tried. Sweeping orange lines with curled ends, he glanced up as the Frenchman came into the class. Ah, Francis… He was a good man most of the time, as long as he kept his hands to himself. He hadn't touched the Russian ever since Ivan twisted his wrist badly enough to need a splint for weeks though. That suited him just fine, as he'd rather not have anyone touching him like that. It always bothered him though, and he chewed on the end of his paint brush as he watched him take a seat. Francis had a lover. The nice blond boy who was Alfred's brother, Matthew he had said? At least he thought they were lovers. Whenever the younger man came to visit, the Frenchman couldn't keep his hands off of him. Then again, he couldn't very well keep his hands off anyone.
Francis had connections, but he didn't know what they were. He always managed to get what he wanted from Arthur in the end, much to the Englishman's dismay. And anything that Arthur disliked, Ivan usually liked out of spite. Setting his brush into the jar of water, he grinned at the Frenchman. "Business was slow?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. Anything to keep the letch's attention from the brunette who was nearing him while walking amongst the other patients.
"Non, not at all! Plenty of people who like a little tweaking." Francis said as he lifted a charcoal pencil. He set it to the blank piece of paper in front of him, starting to draw. "I just got into a little tiff is all. You know how it is when someone doesn't understand your needs." He frowned a little. Ivan had to nod; he did understand that… Thankfully Alfred stopped the Lithuanian when he got to him, talking to him. It said a lot that he thought Alfred a better distraction than Francis.
"Tweaking." He repeated. Frowning, he reached up to touch his nose. "I still think my nose is just fine."
"Oh, it works wonders for you cheri!" Francis agreed, though he grinned as he glanced up. "I was only offering a suggestion, you know. I'd still do a procedure for free, just for you amour." His smile didn't work on Ivan, though he did return it coldly.
"Da, and I could work on your wrist again." At that the Frenchman gave a nervous chuckle, going back to his artwork. Ivan gave a small huff, glancing back to his own paper. Sprawled across the whiteness was an orange bird with seemingly long feathers. Francis was a plastic surgeon, and a good one judging by the clothing and trinkets that he often wore when he came here. He treated the institution like a spa, coming here whenever he needed a break. And unfortunately he often offered his services to the patients, some of which, like Ivan, who already had issues about their looks. It was illegal to operate on a patient at an institution, so it was nothing but a cruel tease. Francis didn't mean it that way, he was trying to be nice, but Ivan hated it.
If he could change something about himself, it wouldn't be his nose. It would be his weight, and his scars… He wouldn't have to hide so much if he didn't have those two things. If he could just get rid of them he could erase the last remnants of that man, couldn't he? It was a far-fetched hope, even if he knew it wouldn't be that simple.
"What's this?" Toris' voice surprised him, looking up to see the brunette standing beside the Frenchman's chair. He sat up straighter as Francis gave the orderly the once-over, smiling. Of course he liked what he saw! Toris was a very attractive man!
"Just a little sketch, mon ami. We haven't been formally introduced!" He held out his hand. "Francis Bonnefoy!" Toris took that hand with a smile, shaking it firmly.
"Toris Lorinaitis." He introduced himself cheerfully, and Ivan could feel himself getting jealous. "You're very good at that! It reminds me of Feliciano's drawings." He complimented. Francis smiled back.
"Ah, Feliciano was here? He's so much more docile than his violent brother over there—"
"Fuck off, Frenchie!" Came Lovino's reply, but it didn't affect the Frenchman. He began to sketch again, and Toris was watching. Ivan tried to sit up straighter, straining to see what it was that he was drawing. His eyes flickered from the paper to Toris' face several times, until he noticed it getting pink.
"F…Francis, is that…?" The orderly asked, blinking.
"Érotique!" The blond announced proudly, and Toris glanced away quickly. No sooner than he did, Francis' hand came up, ever so boldly grasping the Lithuanian's backside.
"Ah, he—!" Toris started. A chair grated against the floor as Ivan stood up, slamming his hands onto the table so hard that the jar of water near him rattled, nearly falling over.
"Francis!" He growled in anger. This got Antonio's attention, and he rushed over to grab Toris by the shoulders, pulling him a few steps away from Francis.
"Now now," He said with a smile. "We have to stay arm's length away from Francis at all times, got it Toris?" He gave a small laugh. "Did he startle you? He's a little over friendly." Toris' face was still quite red, and he could only nod slightly.
"Toris, Toris come here!" Ivan urged, waving his hand. Anything to get his precious orderly farther away from that man! Antonio nodded, and the brunette wandered over to the table, across from the Russian. He sat down as Ivan motioned for him to do so, and the blond took a seat as well. Dr. Carriedo was scolding Francis, but Ivan didn't think it was serious enough. "You can't trust him." Ivan said sourly, picking up his brush again. The orderly sighed, trying to brush off his embarrassment.
"I-I see…" Green eyes moved over to his picture, and there was that wonderful smile. "Ah, a firebird?" He asked. Ivan nodded slightly, painting the yellow beak and feet now. Though it was a little harder while he was being watched, it also felt good to have the Lithuanian close while he did it. It was almost as if they were doing something together!
By the time that art activities were over, it was almost time for dinner. Aside from Francis' wandering hands, everything went rather peacefully. Toris wasn't the only victim by the end of dinner either, though Alfred only laughed, and Gilbert just threatened to punch the Frenchman. Ivan took to following Toris around where ever he could, under pretense of protecting him from Francis. The Lithuanian suspected otherwise, but he wasn't going to complain as long as Ivan was behaving himself as well. No one else seemed to mind, so it wasn't really a problem. Though the Russian wasn't exactly helpful, preferring to watch Toris do whatever it was he was doing, he wasn't disruptive either.
As evening came everyone settled down to watch the TV, and Ivan joined them for the first time, sitting on the couch next to the brunette, with Gilbert on the other side. Sitting against the warm Russian, it took everything Toris had not to drift off again, as now it was Brad sitting off to the side to watch the patients with him, and he could bet that the dark-haired orderly would tell Arthur in a split second. Finally, Brad glanced to his watch and stood up. "Alright everyone, time to start heading to bed. If you have medication stay behind, and if you don't then go ahead." Toris moved to stand with everyone else, but Ivan caught his arm. Leaning down, lips brushed the brunette's ear.
"Please come at midnight." He whispered before he smiled, standing and heading to the counter at the safe room to get his pills. Toris flushed a little, standing and heading for the break room for his last break before his second shift.
It was Heracles again. The dark-haired man sat reading his book as usual, and it was Homer. Toris started several small conversations, but they all died off as the other would eventually become distracted by his book again. It wasn't as if he didn't want to talk, it was just that he seemed easily distracted. Even when he did speak, his thoughts sometimes went from one thing to another. The Lithuanian glanced to the clock many times, debating his choices. He was afraid to be in the same room with Ivan alone again for one. Well, not that he feared him… His anxiety was for other reasons. What could he possibly want? It wasn't just for the pills, right? He didn't need to take them every night unless he was having trouble sleeping…
His mind went back to the first night, and the episode he'd had. The sound of his screams still gave the Lithuanian the chills. Come to think of it, he'd said something then. Something about the heat, and that he was sorry, and not sorry… Ivan had talked about himself today, just for Toris. While his Russian wasn't perfect, he knew well enough to understand what Ivan was saying. About his father, and how he blamed him for his mother's death. Something about music, and the fire… His sisters were free. Was it pointless to even try and make sense of it? If the Russian was going to tell him something he would say it! Toris didn't want or need these riddles and games, his life was complicated enough! Still he couldn't ignore that Ivan had shared something with him… He glanced at the clock again, swallowing. Midnight… Glancing over to Heracles, he stood up slowly.
"I'm… going to go and check on Ivan. They said he's had trouble sleeping, so I'll go make sure he's doing alright." He said as casually as he could manage. The dark-haired orderly looked up, giving the slightest of smiles.
"…Alright. Better than hearing him scream. Call if you need anything." He gave a nod, and then it was back to his book. Toris breathed a small sigh of relief, heading out the door as he was buzzed through. His heart was racing as he walked down the dimly lit hall, stopping at the door. 216… Sliding his card through the slot, he walked inside. It clicked closed behind him softly, and he swallowed. Ivan was sitting on his bed, knees up, grinning in the light of his bedside table's lamp.
"You came. I was just about to start shouting…" He said. Toris frowned, walking over to the bedside.
"Don't do that if you don't need to. I didn't bring any pills…"
"I don't need them." Ivan shook his head.
"Then what did you need?" Toris rose one eyebrow curiously. He stepped back as Ivan slid the blankets off, moving to stand. "Ah…" The orderly tensed as the Russian came in close, staying still as those long arms wrapped around him.
"I couldn't stand it…" Ivan whispered. Toris relaxed, bringing his arms up around to hug the blond in return.
"Couldn't stand… what, Ivan?" He asked quietly. Suddenly those large hands slid downwards, and Toris gave a surprised cry as they settled on his backside. "Ivan…!"
"He touched you! Even before I did, he touched you here!" Ivan grasped firmly, and Toris felt his face burning as he pushed at the Russian's chest, fingers curled into his shirt.
"I-Ivan, let go—!" He was cut off as his lips were sealed by the larger man's, eyes widening as he was kissed. Ivan didn't press it more than a simple touch of lips, hands sliding back upwards. Before he knew it, Toris was pressing into that broad chest instead of pushing away, and his eyes were half-lidded. With a simple kiss, he felt almost relived. The kiss broke within moments, Ivan's lips hovering above his own as they breathed.
"There…" The Russian whispered. He pressed the Lithuanian back, keeping him from stumbling along the way. Toris' back touched the wall, and he bit his lower lip. "It's alright, isn't it? We've got a few moments at least…" Ivan asked, his voice so very hopeful. Toris took in a deep breath, his heart pounding in his ears and stuck in his throat. He needed to tell him no, to stop and move away from him… But that was the last thing that he really wanted right now. Because whenever those lips touched his, all his day's stress melted away. He wasn't thinking about schoolwork, or this job, his past, or what he needed to go through for his future. All that he thought about when they kissed was Ivan, and how good it felt to be desired by someone. Swallowing, he nodded. Ivan's smile practically glowed.
Both of their eyes closed as their lips touched this time, and Ivan sighed into the kiss. Toris' lips parted eagerly for his tongue, and he let it slip inside as Ivan's body pressed in close. The Lithuanian lifted his arms to wrap around the blond's neck, nearly standing on his toes just as Ivan was leaning down for him. Their breath was short and shared between them whenever they broke for it, and now Toris could feel Ivan's heart racing. The others could warn him as much as they liked, he knew for sure you couldn't fake a reaction like that. The hands on his hips slid upwards, lifting the edge of his shirt as they did. Ivan froze a moment later, breaking the kiss.
Wide violet eyes stared down at the orderly, and Toris frowned in confusion. Had he done something wrong? It took him a second later to realize that there was a hand on his back. His bare back, as it had slid up under the shirt. In an instant all of that fire turned to ice, and he pushed the taller man away with a strong shove. Ivan moved back without resistance. Shit, he'd found them! "I-I have to go…!" He turned for the door, but Ivan caught his wrist.
"Ah nyet, wait!" He begged, and Toris winced as he looked back. It wasn't because of any physical pain, however. Tears had already gathered into his eyes, and Ivan's own expression seemed pained to see them. "Please… let me see." He asked. Toris' eyes widened, and he shook his head quickly.
"No, I can't…!" The orderly found his hand lifted, up behind the blond's neck. He felt the ridged skin there, and he grimaced even more. The burn scars…
"Toris has seen mine…" Ivan stated quietly. "It's only fair…" Toris bit his lower lip, trembling slightly. This was exactly what he had always been afraid of when it came to getting close to anyone! And Ivan was right, of course. Even to the point that Toris had cheated, and read files written by analytical doctors instead of asking the blond himself.
"I… I know. I know it's not fair for me to be the one with all the knowledge!" Toris admitted painfully. "But… I'm afraid…!" He protested, though he made no move to leave again. His chest rose and fell with slightly labored breath, obviously under pressure. Ivan reached up to brush the brunette's bangs back behind his ear slowly.
"Toris said… he had a typical family." Ivan reminded. "That's not typical…" He indicated the Lithuanian's back. Toris shook his head.
"No. No, it's not! But what was I supposed to say! You cornered me! I-I had to say something…" He closed his eyes, covering them with his splinted hand. "How could I let someone here know about me…" Ivan lowered the orderly's hand, holding it in both of his own.
"I'm very good with secrets, Toris." He moved in close, placing a soft kiss on those slightly slack lips. Toris knew that he was being honest about this, at least. After all, whatever it was they had between them was the biggest secret of all. "Let me see…" He whispered, and Toris shook his head again.
"I-I'm not ready…" His voice was wavering. Ivan's expression held nothing of his playful smiles, his cold, or his blank ones. He was frowning as if in concern, and it was becoming difficult to look at.
"…Please." He pleaded again, "No one outside of this room will ever know…" The orderly was breaking down, a few tears slipping from the corners of his eyes. He was trembling consistently now, though unable to bring himself to leave. He knew almost everything about the Russian, he'd seen his scars, read his file, seen the best and heard the worst. His wrist was in a split because of his mistake. He wasn't afraid like that, though. This was something much deeper than physical fear. This was something personal enough to shake the emotionally strong Lithuanian. Biting his lower lip, he finally gave a slow nod of his head.
Ivan released the younger man's hand as he took his time to turning around. Hands curled into fists at his sides, shaking slightly. It was as bad as Ivan had been when he'd come into the closet after him for that simple kiss. Ivan carefully took a hold of the edges of Toris' shirt, lifting it very slowly, just in case he changed his mind. All the way up, until the light of the lamp illuminated that lightly tanned skin. "Ah…" Ivan sucked in an audible breath as he saw them. Lightened lines, old and faded scars from a few inches long to almost a foot in length. There were a few darker, raised ones as well, ones that Ivan knew all too well to be the effect of an unprotected belt buckle cutting into the skin by blunt force. "Oh Toris…" Ivan breathed. He leaned down slowly.
"Ah…!" Toris' back straightened when he felt it; warm, damp lips on his cool back. Another kiss and his chest shuddered with a dry sob. Raising his hand to cover his mouth, he cried as Ivan kissed his scars. Each and every one of them while the orderly shook with sobs, unable to even describe the feelings he was going through right now. Relief, fear, shock, and… There was also a deep, overwhelming affection for the man who was kissing his most painful memories away so tenderly. Old scars, newer ones, each one was touched by those soft lips as if to suck out the venomous memories from them. When Ivan stopped his attentions, he pulled the brunette back into himself, backing towards the bed. He sat down once they reached it, pulling Toris gently down in front of him, holding him tightly to his chest as he cried.
Ivan held his precious orderly as if he were a figure made of glass. The brunette shuddered and shook within his arms, all the while the Russian stayed quiet. To be honest, he'd been more than surprised to discover a deep secret such as this. Oh, he'd known that the Lithuanian was hiding some kind of emotional wound. He knew that from the look in those beautiful green eyes, and every time he smiled, how he seemed to be holding something back. He'd seen that very look on his mother more times than he could count. But to think that Toris' secret would so very close to his own… It was almost frightening. Toris had said he was afraid to let his scars be seen, but Ivan was suddenly afraid of the weight he'd just placed onto his own shoulders.
This was a heavy secret, indeed. At least, he thought so. The tears that were soaking through his pajamas said it was. However, this wasn't it. It wasn't the whole story. It would be much too simple to assume that this was his Lithuanian's only story. His pain ran much deeper than just these old scars. Some of them had been old and fading, but Ivan knew the sight of those that were only a few years old. "Shh, shh…" He coaxed at last, petting Toris' hair. He slid the tie out so that he could run his fingers through the entire length of it. Slowly the brunette did calm, his sobs becoming farther apart from each other. It was real now, their secrets went both ways. Now, Ivan had something belonging to the orderly. For now he would be satisfied. When Toris had finally calmed down, Ivan spoke up. "…Is he…?"
"Dead." The Lithuanian said shortly. Ivan nodded, though he was happy with the answer. If the man who had done this to Toris had been out there, alive…
"You mother…?"
"She's alive, back in Lithuania." The orderly wiped his eyes, his face flushed. He couldn't seem to bring himself to leave the Russian's comforting side right now.
"Good." Ivan smiled, but Toris' expression remained unchanged. Ah, peculiar… Before he could question it, Toris was sitting up. "Ah, just a little longer…" Holding him had felt so good! Toris glanced back, and that smile was there again. That sad, wounded smile.
"I really should go. Heracles will start to wonder…" He protested. Ivan frowned, but he released his hold on the younger man. When Toris stood up the Russian leaned back into his headboard.
"Toris… What will you give me if I get some chips?" He asked. The orderly paused, retying his hair.
"You mean… Good behavior chips?" Small plastic chips like casino tokens were given out to those patients that behaved well or helped with chores. They could trade them in for extra time doing the things they liked. It made the brunette's smile a little warmer. "I suppose you'll ask for a kiss?" He asked with a slightly raised eyebrow. Ivan nodded.
"Ah, and for your hair to be down. And maybe… Ah, I'll keep that to myself!" He smiled, pulling his knees up and resting his chin on them. Toris frowned.
"Hey, I didn't say I'd agree to anything…" He protested, but Ivan only continued to smile. Toris sighed, touching just under his slightly puffy eyes. Great, what was he going to do if Heracles noticed he'd been crying…? "We'll see, alright?" He said at last. "Just get some tomorrow while it's my day off." Ivan nodded, his right hand playing with his scarf. He expected the orderly to leave, but instead he hesitated for a moment longer. Turning his back to the Russian, he spoke up quietly. "…Aren't you going to ask me?" Ivan covered his mouth with the scarf.
"Ask what?"
"You know! If… If I'll be … be yours." He could tell that the Lithuanian was blushing even without seeing his face. He smiled behind his scarf.
"Nyet… Not yet." Not until he knew what it was, the other half of Toris' secret. Until he was sure that he couldn't be rejected. "Unless… you want me to ask?" Could it be that simple? Toris fell quiet again, hands curling and uncurling for a moment.
"…No, not yet." He agreed. Ivan smiled. "Spokoynoy nochi', Ivan." He said quietly, and Ivan's smile fell. He found his cheeks growing hot, and he suddenly felt a little vulnerable. Hiding his face up to his nose, he answered quietly.
"S…Spokoynoy nochi', Toris…" He answered. He watched the orderly leave his room, feeling as if the warmth left with him. But it wasn't that the room was colder, it was that his body was getting warmer. He'd forgotten that discovering someone's secrets could feel like this. While trying desperately to get into Toris' heart, he'd inadvertently left his own wide open. Toris held it in those two small, warm hands of his. And now that he held a secret of the Lithuanian's, he had to protect it for the sake of his own heart as well as Toris'. He'd created the first steps of real trust between them, but it was a feeling he hadn't felt in years… Laying down with Toris' sweet voice replaying over and over again in his head, he fell into a dreamless sleep.