Post by Stefan Capper on Jan 17, 2012 12:20:10 GMT -5
[ Okay, so this is something Kiara and I wrote to wrap up the Yule Ball for Stefan and Lyle, and I've just gotten round to posting it, hehe. Basically, long story short, when Gabby goes to dance with Lyle, Isaac asks Stefan to dance with him, and figuring there's no harm in one dance, he does. This is what happens afterwards. ]
He was just standing there, staring down at the cookies on the table, chewing on his lower lip as he pushed around a couple stray crumbs on the table. He had wanted to go and break up the two of them, wanted to push on that guy's shoulder and let him know that Stefan wasn't there to dance with him. He wanted to pull Stefan away and kiss him, kiss him so hard that no one in this entire room would have any doubts as to whose boyfriend Stefan was. Then he remembered cracked ribs and a broken face, hateful words and torn clothes, remembered the press of a body against a wall and the heavy, thick taste of something he had never wanted. So, instead, he stood off to the side, paralyzed by fear. The fear of what could happen if he were to get confrontational, and the fear of what would happen, even if he didn't. Maybe Stefan was dancing with that boy because he knew Lyle wouldn't want to. Maybe Stefan was dancing with that boy because that boy wasn't broken, wasn't scared, wasn't a clinging, sobbing mess of a person.
Lyle picked up on of the cookies off of the table, his stomach twisting with something that he was pretty sure wasn't hunger. For the first time, he ate something anyway. The cookie was dry and hard and disgusting in his mouth, but it was the opposite of what he remembered shame tasting like, so he kept chewing, waiting for Stefan to come back and tell him how much of a failure he really was.
Enough had been enough, Stefan thought, as he managed to finally extract himself from Isaac's hold, having humoured him with a dance already, and honestly, kind of wanting to go back. He couldn't see Lyle anywhere on the dance floor, and he'd already spotted Gabby dancing with Fabian again--if he hadn't been distressed at the entire situation, he would have found the sight of the height difference between them amusing--so Lyle had to be elsewhere, and there was something tugging at the pit of his stomach that worried him with a need to find him. Making his way around the crowd, Stefan craned his neck, rolling his lower lip around as he looked for his boyfriend, bumping into a girl he didn't know and apologizing quickly, quietly, before spotting Lyle near the food table and letting out a sigh of relief as he did. Stefan sped up his pace a little, maneuvering his way around the tables as he approached him, and instantly slipped his hand into his. "Don't leave me again," he whispered quietly, catching his eye. His fingers threaded around Lyle's and he squeezed his hand, folding himself into his side as he peered at the food and grabbed a cookie for himself, taking a bite out of it and chewing, calmer now that he was with Lyle.
Lyle nearly choked on the bite of cookie he had in his mouth, blinking up at Stefan. He swallowed it thickly, dropping the rest of the cookie down onto the table. He blinked again, nodding his head quietly, staring down at their hands, not saying anything. He licked his lips and reached over, grabbing a cup of punch and taking a sip.
He wasn't sure what Stefan meant by that. He hadn't thought he had left him at all; he and Gabby hadn't gone very far. Lyle had been able to watch Stefan off to the side, reassured by the sight. He had been able to see Stefan talk to that boy, seen Stefan walk off to dance with that boy, hadn't had the heart to make Gabby stay. He squeezed Stefan's hand quietly and took another sip. Stefan would leave him eventually, he figured. He'd find someone else someone who could be there for him completely, and he'd leave. People seemed to do that. Only love him for a little while before they found something better. But he'd stay, if that's what Stefan wanted, for as long as Stefan wanted him to.
Swallowing his cookie, Stefan glanced over at Lyle curiously, frowning a little as he took in his expression, and a sinking feeling to his stomach gave him an unpleasant nudge for a moment. He bit his lip. Maybe this wasn't what Lyle wanted after all, he thought, as he watched him, shifting on the spot and taking a deep breath. "Are you okay?" he asked him quietly, searching his face for an answer. He'd been with Gabby, he reassured himself. Up until some point, he'd been with Gabby, and nothing could have happened to him. They were in Hogwarts, they were safe. Lyle had been doing better, he'd thought--no, he'd known.
They could walk each other to class, now, and spend time together outside, and Lyle was fine. What was it about tonight that made Stefan think he wasn't really happy about this at all. Nerves? "Are you nervous?" he asked, then, because nerves he could understand. He was nervous; he'd been freaking out the whole night. But--but it was okay, wasn't it? He didn't want to fool himself into believing that this was what everything was like, but for tonight, it was okay. He'd almost been lulled into a sense of calm all over; he could be having fun--everything was okay, nobody had said anything to them, hell, nobody had even looked their way in anything other than mild curiosity. At least not that he'd noticed. Right?
He glanced over at Stefan when he spoke, frowning, licking his lips again and taking a deep breath. He shrugged his shoulders, frowning a little at Stefan. "Why wouldn't I be?" He set down his cup and glanced around, wiping his sweaty palm against his suit before he let out another breath. He forced a smile—forced an entirely relaxed demeanor, really, because all he wanted to do was run -- and said quietly. "What's to be nervous about?"
Stefan watched Lyle, still, keeping his eyes on him and trying to figure out what he was thinking, not really understanding why he had a feeling that something was off, and bit his lip again, shrugging in response to Lyle's question. He didn't know why he wouldn't be okay, he just--Stefan shook his head a little and Lyle smiled, relaxed and okay, and he let out a breath. Maybe he was worrying for no reason. Giving him a smile back, he squeezed his hand and rubbed his thumb over his hand; all he dared do in public like this. He really just wanted to kiss his cheek. Looking back over at the dance floor, where Gabby was still with Fabian, and the music was loud and everybody was laughing as they danced, Stefan turned over to look at Lyle. "Do you want to...?" he asked quietly, a little nervously, nodding over there.
He took a deep breath, glancing over where Stefan was gesturing. Did he want to dance? No, not really, not at all. He wanted to go back to his dorm room, drag his feet up the stairs, and crawl under the covers of his bed. He wanted to sleep until he woke up and felt better, felt normal again. Still, he found himself staring at the boy who Stefan had danced with, and he found himself knowing that it wasn't really a question Stefan was asking. He would have to dance. Otherwise, Stefan would just go and dance with that other boy again, who was taller and probably smelled better and didn't flinch every time he was touched and -- "Yeah -- yeah, sounds -- sounds good."
Still looking at Lyle, Stefan followed his gaze, roaming around people along the edges of the dance floor, and frowning. Was he--? Isaac was dancing with a girl now, whom he didn't recognize, and he wondered if he was looking at him. If Lyle was. He wasn't...maybe Lyle was worried about him? Stefan frowned a little and bit his lip, even as Lyle agreed to dance, and felt the need to say, anyway, "He's not going to hurt us," before he pushed himself off the table, tugging Lyle over with a soft smile, leading them both to the dance floor.
That's what you think, Lyle thought to himself as Stefan pulled him out onto the dance floor. Lyle was pretty sure Isaac could hurt him in more ways than one, but he said nothing as he gently pressed his hand against Stefan's hip.
Stefan stepped onto the dance floor, swallowing nervously, licking his lips, and this time he was dancing with a boy because he wanted to. Because this was his boyfriend and he couldn't rely on the fact that another boy had taken him out. This was all him, and all Lyle. He tried to steady his nerves and show a calm facade as he leaned into Lyle a little, turning his face up to catch his eye and rest the butt off his opposite hand gently on Lyle's shoulder, making it clear that they're dancing together, even as they danced apart, to the fast-paced beat of the music playing, letting out a soft breath and trying to get a smile out of Lyle. "I like this song," he offered.
"I don't know it," he responded in kind, frowning down at his feet. He didn't quite know how to dance to music like this; it wasn't like when he danced to the slower music. He pressed his hand a little more to Stefan's hip and swayed his own, taking a deep breath as he kept it up to the beat.
The song suddenly faded off, however, before Stefan had any chance to reply to that, flushing a little and feeling more than awkward as he tried to find a rhythm to this--he knew he wasn't a good dancer--as Dumbledore came up to the front to announce the Yule Court, and Stefan swallowed, taking a breath and turning to look towards the raised platform as he gave the instructions, folding his hands in front of his hips and glancing over at Lyle anyway, watching him, letting his eyes roam his face for a moment, biting his own lip.
He blinked up as Stefan moved away, frowning still as he craned his neck a bit to watch Dumbledore announce the Yule Court. His hands itched a little, because he wanted to grab onto something, but he wasn't sure if that was appropriate now; he shoved them into his pockets instead, bouncing on the balls of his feet while he waited.
Then Gabby Rivera was announced as the Duchess, and Stefan's eyes widened into a laugh, clapping loudly for her and cheering along with everybody else, watching as she managed to find her way over to the platform, grinning over at Lyle excitedly. Her and another boy that he barely recognized as him being in his History of Magic class, and she looked so surprised but nobody deserved it more.
He smiled, softly, his eyes crinkling a bit around the corners before he pulled two fingers up to his mouth and let out a whistle. He pulled them out of his mouth and let out a laugh, shaking his head a bit and clapping his hands with everyone else.
Smiling wider now that Lyle was, too, Stefan continued clapping, dying out as Dumbledore waited for there to be silence to announce the Prince and Princess. Stefan looked around the crowd, trying to spot Imogen, but she seemed to have followed through on her word of leaving, because he couldn't and then--'Sebastian Fleming and Emmeline Vance.' Stefan raised his eyebrows and smiled again, clapping loudly for the guy he didn't know and his cousin, who was seemingly freaking out as she went over and hugged Gabby tightly. He laughed, leaning into Lyle a little.
Lyle startled again, jerking his head away from where he was watching Gabby and Emme hug each other. He pressed his lips together and reached to touch Stefan, his fingers clenching a bit before he gently pressed the tips to Stefan's side.
"Not surprised at all," he said quietly in Stefan's ear.
Trying not to react too much to the way Lyle had all but jumped when he'd leaned into him, Stefan smiled a little to himself at the touch, turning his face into his shoulder for a moment, and nodded. "I know," he agreed, as the Queen and King were announced as well--the Head Boy and Rita Skeeter, whose masquerade had marked the day when Lyle had told him he had feelings for him, and chuckled again, resisting the urge to get any closer. "I love you," he whispered instead.
He made a soft noise, humming low, pressing his fingers a little harder into Stefan's side. "I love you, too," he responded softly, tracing his fingers up and down the side.
Stefan bit his lip, smiling again, as the speeches were made and people dispersed again, a slow song starting up, and turned around to face Lyle again, tilting his chin up with a twinkle in his eye, sliding his hands up and around his shoulders, like he had up in the Clock Tower, when Lyle had danced with him that first time, and tucked his face up on the crook of his shoulder and neck, breathing against the skin there, trailing his own fingertips down the side of his neck as he started swaying a little bit. "And I'm so proud to be with you," he whispered.
His hands found Stefan's hips easily, rubbing his thumb up and down Stefan's side as they start to sway. He tucked his head against Stefan's, pressing their cheeks together. His breath caught at Stefan's words, and he paused, feet stumbling a little as he tried to catch up with his heart; they both skipped a beat. "Wh-what?"
Leaning there, against Lyle, Stefan felt calmer and happier than he had in so long, and he allowed himself to take a deep breath, breathing him in, the scent of him, around him, loving him, until Lyle missed a beat and they had to steady their dancing again, Stefan pulling back a breath to glance up at him, cocking his head to the side a little, mouth curved up in a small, soft smile. "I'm--I'm proud to be with you," he repeated, not sure if Lyle hadn't gotten what he'd meant, or if he hadn't heard.
"I -- you --" he broke off, still frowning. He pulled his face back a bit to catch Stefan's eye, pressing his lips together. "What -- w-what do you mean?"
"What do you mean, what do I mean?" Stefan muttered under his breath, blushing now, because it wasn't meant not to have been heard and now it's just awkward to repeat it, and he's feeling extremely self-conscious at the moment. "I mean what I said, I don't--what..." he trailed off.
"I -- I'm sorry -- I'm -- of course," he said quickly, wanting to make things better and right, to go back to "I love you"s, to go back to whatever Stefan could have possibly meant by that. Lyle just couldn't wrap his mind around the idea that Stefan could be proud of him. "I -- I just didn't hear you. I'm sorry."
"No, don't--" Stefan took a breath and dropped his arms a little from Lyle's shoulders, letting his hands slide down his chest to rest over his stomach somewhat, glancing down at them, chewing around the inside of his cheek, still blushing. "Don't apologize, I just--I feel like a sap," he admitted, pressing his lips together sheepishly and glancing back up at him.
"I -- you're not a sap," he bit his lip, letting it go and breathing out softly. "I -- you're just -- just too nice. So good to me -- too good, it's --"
"True." He interrupted him, looking up to catch his eye, meaning it.
He opened his mouth to say something else, but shook his head, closing it again. He glanced down at their feet, pulling his hands away from Stefan's side to stuff them back in his pockets again.
Stefan took a breath through his nose and made to step back at that, not sure what's going through Lyle's mind right now, but feeling kind of nervous about it. He didn't know why it felt like Lyle didn't believe this was true sometimes; he'd wanted to make it clear that it was. He reminded him that he loved him all the time, he wanted to be here with him. Why did it feel like Lyle wasn't ready to take that? Biting his lip, he shifted a little. "Do you--do you not want to dance anymore?" he asked quietly, not knowing what else to say or do since they were standing awkwardly in the middle of the dance floor.
"What?" He asked quietly, picking his head back up. He watched Stefan for a moment before he glanced around them, blinking when he realized that they were still at the dance, still at the ball. They were in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by a large crowd of people, and Lyle felt so small. He bit his lip and curled in on himself a bit, turning his head back to catch Stefan's gaze.
I--" he broke off, making another noise as he shifted his weight around. He didn't want to be here anymore. He didn't -- didn't know what to do with himself. Stefan was proud to be with him, but what did that even mean? What was there to be proud about? God, Lyle wasn't even dancing anymore. He couldn't even finish a whole song before he ruined it. Ruined it because he couldn't stop thinking, couldn't stop his mind from tricking him, over and over and over again, putting him back to where he never wanted to go. What was there to be proud of? It all had to be superficial; Gabby had told him he looked great. Stefan had told him he looked great. He did, didn't he? The bruises had faded and he had a nice little shell around his shattered little heart, but he looked great.
What was there to be proud of?
Stefan watched him, waiting for an answer, first shifting a little and licking his lips, turning back to look at him, and frowning a little when he didn't reply right away. He watched as a thousand thoughts passed through Lyle's mind and eyes, and swallowed, keeping his eyes on him and worrying. "Lyle?" he whispered, reaching over slowly to hold onto his waist a little, stepping closer to him. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked quietly, the slow song still playing in the background as other couples swayed around them.
He made another noise when Stefan touched him, a soft keening in his throat, a warning, almost, but it disappeared quickly as he realized that he wasn't helping. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, shaking his head. All at once, it came out of him, quick and fast and urgent and desparate -- "I thought I could do this, but I can't, Stefan, I can't do this, and I don't want to do this, and you can stay if you want to, I promise I won't be upset if you decide to stay and -- and dance with that -- that guy or with Imogen or anyone, but I can't do this, Stefan. I can't. I can't."
Something was very wrong and it wasn't just a feeling, now. It was the way Lyle was all but shying away from his touch and how he was shielding himself; it was in his eyes and the way he held himself, and Stefan's eyes hardened a little, worried. Ignoring what he said about him dancing with--he assumed he meant Isaac---because it was ridiculous and he honestly couldn't really believe that Lyle would think he liked that, Stefan shook his head and reached down to take his hand. "We're in this together, Lyle," he whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek gently before dropping his hand. "Come on. Let's go."
He flexed his fingers in Stefan's grip before he grabbed them tightly in his own, bringing his hand up as he had earlier to gently cup Stefan's elbow. He held there tightly, gripping his arm and pressing his side against his, ducking his head down to watch his feet as they left the Great Hall.
Biting his lip, Stefan led them outside quietly, not making much of a scene out of it, thankful that nobody seemed to be paying attention to them, thankful that Isaac seemed to have left him alone after the dance, and listening to the music fade out increasingly as they got further away from the Great Hall, their footsteps becoming clearer against the stone floor as they did, and turning to look at Lyle, concerned, taking a deep breath and stopping at the staircase, where he would have to turn down for the Hufflepuff common room, or to the right for his own...or... "Do you--do you want to sleep together?" he asked him quietly, searching his face.
"Do I want to what?" Lyle asked, his head snapping up to stare at Stefan, eyes wide and his mouth open a bit.
Stefan sucked in a sharp breath at the same time, blushing a furious red and dropping his own jaw, shaking his head quickly from side to side. "Not! Not like--in--in the same room, I meant, not--" he stumbled over his words, blurting them out in his hurry to set things straight; that having been the last thing on his mind at the moment.
He blinked at Stefan and looked down at his shoes, hating himself. He hated that he was both relieved and upset by Stefan's answer, that there was something about the quick rejection, the quick correction made his stomach turn a bit. Of course, Stefan hadn't been thinking about sex, why would he? It was a relief and a burden; he was no where near ready for that, but did that mean that Stefan didn't even think of him like that? He shook his head and cleared his throat, trying to get it all out of him before he spoke, because he was just being stupid, wasn't he? "I -- I want out of these clothes and I want -- I want a bed. Any bed. I don't care. I just -- I want -- I want -- this tie is just -- suffocating, really, and I just need -- I need to be safe. I -- I don't -- can we go s-somewhere? Anywhere -- I don't -- I don't like standing here. Doing nothing. I don't -- please."
Still blushing, clenching his teeth hard because that was something that was entirely inappropriate to be thinking about right now, even if Lyle had been the one to technically bring it up, or his own words had been misconstrued, because Lyle was scared and they were going somewhere to be safe, not so that Stefan could start thinking about that, and really, he had to stop. Pressing his lips together, cheeks still a little pink, Stefan looked back at him and nodded quickly, swallowing. "Ssh, okay. Okay, you're alright. Come here," he whispered, reaching over around Lyle's neck to slide his fingers underneath the edge of his tie, bringing them around it and carefully sliding the loops out of their places until it was undone, folding it up and tucking it into the front pocket of Lyle's suit before taking his hand. "May told me about this place the other day," he said quietly, leading him up the stairs. "On the seventh floor. It's a secret room that appears when you need it, and nobody else can get in."
Lyle closed his eyes as he felt Stefan undoing his tie, and he took a deep, shuddering breath when it was gone. He reached up and undid the first few buttons of his shirt, licking his lips and making another soft noise. He blinked his eyes open and nodded, squeezing Stefan's hand tightly as they started to move.
"Nobody else?" He asked quietly. He had to be sure. "R-really?"
"Yeah," he agreed quietly, biting his lip at the sight of Lyle unbuttoning his shirt somewhat and squeezing his hand back as they made their way up the long flight of stairs up to the seventh floor. Stefan turned into the corridor May had indicated, repeating the steps she'd shown him, wishing for a place to stay the night. With a bed. And a shower. A door appeared to his left, and he took a deep breath, surprised, a little. "See?" he whispered, looking around before walking over and opening it cautiously, peering inside as soft light flooded out into the corridor. "Wow," he breathed out, blinking a little.
Lyle remained close behind him, pressing himself up against Stefan as they moved along the corridors. He bit his lip as he waited, jumping a little all his own when the door appeared. He poked his head in after Stefan and let out a soft breath of relief upon what he saw inside. "Oh."
Stepping inside, Stefan pulled Lyle along before closing the door behind them. He knew it would disappear as soon as they were both in, like it had when May had shown him, and took a deep breath, taking in the sight before them. It was an ample room, with a large, low bed with extremely comfortable-looking pillows and cushions and a comforter. There were candles across it, casting a soft glow over the carpet and throw rugs. A door, he assumed, led to the bathroom. "Will this work?" he breathed out, turning to look at Lyle.
Lyle nodded his head, shifting his position and leaning a bit further away from Stefan now that they were safely somewhere else. He bit his lip and attempted to pull his hand away, needing a bit of space between them now so that his mind could bring the entire situation back to his completely whacked sense of equilibrium.
Letting go off his hand, dropping it when he realized Lyle was pulling away, Stefan licked his lips and bit down on his lower one, carefully unbuttoning his coat and sliding it off his shoulders so as not to wrinkle it, and hung it up on a hanger next to the door before shifting a little, walking over to the bathroom door and peering inside.
He moved over to the bed and sat down, pressing his hands against his knees and staring down at his feet, blinking once, twice, three times before he closed his eyes and took another sharp breath.
Stefan pulled his head back from the bathroom door to snap his face over to Lyle, watching him worriedly. "Lyle?"
"Yeah?"
"What's wrong?" he asked quietly, coming out of the bathroom to turn towards him, turning to sit next to him on the edge of the bed, resting his hand over his back gently. "Talk to me..."
"Nothing's wrong, I promise, I'm just thinking," he rushed out, shaking his head a bit. He was attempting to reassure, but managed to sound petulant instead.
Stefan bit his lip for a long moment, not saying anything before he stood up again, shifting awkwardly on his feet as he tried to figure out what to sleep in, wringing his hands together because he couldn't sleep in his suit trousers, or his dress shirt; it was both uncomfortable, and he'd wrinkle it, and he didn't want either. Grateful that he'd worn a tank inside it, he turned away from Lyle a little, focusing on anything but what he was doing, and started unbuttoning his shirt as well.
It wasn't that he didn't want to ask -- he had been dying to ask since Stefan had said it, since he had put the thought in his brain like a cancer that just kept growing and growing until there was nothing left but "I'm so proud to be with you" -- but it was rather that he didn't want to know the answer, couldn't bear to hear it, wasn't sure he'd even believe it at this point.
Still, he couldn't stop thinking about it, and he just wanted his mind to quiet down, so he opened his mouth and blurted, "Why are you proud to be with me?"
Working his buttons open, Stefan slid the shirt around his shoulders when Lyle spoke, and he froze a little, turning around as he took the sleeves off carefully, hanging it up next to his coat and folding his arms a little bit self-consciously over his chest as he watched him, biting around his lip. He knew it was about that. Swallowing a little, Stefan shifted on the spot again, trying not to blush about this because he knew there were certain things that Lyle needed sometimes, so he'd explain. Or try to explain, at any rate.
"Why am I proud to be with you?" he repeated quietly, still biting his lip. "Because--because you're..." How was he going to explain? Stefan had never been very good with explaining his feelings, much less putting them into words. How did he explain pride? How did he explain love? "Kind," he finally said, quietly. "And generous, and loving, and sweet. You're...you're outgoing, and a great dancer, and--handsome--" He licked his lips. "You care. About me, about Gabby, about--you care. And you're...you're just something to be proud of."
He rubbed his hands together, staring down at them as he listened. He understood where Stefan was coming from, he did, but he wasn't sure if he -- it wasn't that he didn't believe him, but it was rather that he wasn't sure if he should believe him when he was watching Stefan dance with some other boy. How could you be proud of someone if you're spending your time with someone else?
He nodded his head when Stefan finished, not saying anything in response as he slowly stopped the movement of his hands, letting his fingers pick at each other as he blinked down at them, eyes glazing over a bit as he continued to think.
"Those are -- being proud to be with me implies that there's something about me that reflects well on you, and all I can seem to figure out about that is that maybe it's that you're just a really good person for sticking with me after everything else. Or -- I don't know. I don't know. I'm sorry -- don't worry about it. About me. I'm just -- thinking. Aloud. It's -- I'm sorry."
Stefan watched him with a lost expression and a small frown, lips parted as he tried to take his words in. Why didn't he--he swallowed, shaking his head a little. "Everything about you reflects well on me," he muttered, stepping closer to him, watching his face carefully. "I wish you'd trust me enough to tell me what you're really thinking. All of it," he said quietly, biting his lip. "I'm worried about you."
"Why were you dancing with him?" He blurted out, loud and unforgiving as he tilts his head back up. "Who was he? Was that the boy you told me about? Didn't you tell him no, Stefan? Doesn't he know what no means? Did you want to -- do you like him? I -- If he doesn't know what no means, Stefan, then he's not good for you -- he's -- I don't want you to get hurt, Stefan, not like me - please, not like me -- I just -- did you tell him no? Was he listening? You should -- Stefan, who was he?"
His jaw dropped a little at that, and he stood there, staring at Lyle while he spoke, mouth feeling dry and heart skipping a beat; he could do nothing but stare for a while. That was it? That was the whole problem right now? Him? Stefan kept gaping at him for a moment before he gathered his bearings and sucked in a breath, eyes a little wide, pressing his lips together and looking around, biting his lip. How to answer all of those questions at once, he wondered. Swallowing, Stefan shifted again, hands flexing at his arms and watching Lyle quietly.
"I--that was Isaac, yes," he started quietly, trying to think of a way so he didn't worry Lyle, or give him the wrong impression because it was nothing like that. Nothing like that at all, and he didn't want Lyle thinking... "You went to dance with Gabby," he said. "And he came and--and started flirting again, so I told him no, and left, and he followed me caught up and said he just...honestly wanted to dance with me." He watched Lyle carefully, biting his lip. "I didn't think there was any harm to it, he just wanted to dance. I don't--I don't like him, Lyle," he said, voice a little hard, emphasizing it as he looked at him.
"But you told him no and he didn't listen," Lyle persisted, because, honestly, that was all he had taken from that at all. How was Stefan missing the entire point? That was how bad things happen -- bad people don't understand what no means, and that boy didn't seem to understand that at all, apparently, and, of course, Stefan wouldn't see the harm in appeasing him, because Lyle hadn't seen the harm in politely requesting his glasses back instead of just letting the man take them. All that had done was allow the man to keep taking and taking and taking until Lyle had nothing left but a shattered confidence to match his broken heart. "You said no. You said no."
Stefan took a deep breath. He wanted to retort back that that's not what it was like at all, and say that Lyle was wrong, and pass it off as something light, it doesn't matter, it's over, but he knows what this means for Lyle. He'd been there, and it's not light. It did matter. And Lyle was scared. So he turned around, biting his lip, and climbed on top of the bed behind him, gingerly wrapping his arms around Lyle's waist, tucking his chin over his shoulder. "He's sixteen," he whispered. "I don't think he had any bad intentions, Lyle. But I promise you, I promise you that if it ever gets to be too much, I'll tell you. And I'll tell a teacher, and I'll be okay. Alright?" he told him softly, trying to be soothing, reassuring.
He fell back against Stefan and closed his eyes, letting his arms fall against Stefan's. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Mulciber was only 18," Lyle whispered, falling back against him. "He graduated with James -- that's how they -- they knew -- you -- please be careful. Please -- please, be careful."
"I will be," he replied quietly, holding him tightly, burying his nose into his neck and breathing him in, the safety of him, the comfort and the reassurance and the love. Pulling back a little, Stefan shifted to tug at Lyle's left arm, turning his body over so he could look at his face properly. "And you're the only one for me. Ever. Okay?"
