Fic: Homelife (Entourage, Vince/E, PG-13)
Title: Homelife
Author: allyndra
Fandom: Entourage
Pairing: Vince/E
Rating: PG-13
Length: about 1,200 words
Warning: Domestic violence
Disclaimer: The way the economy is going, I would surely love to be profiting from this, but I’m not and I won’t. They’re not mine.
Summary: Vince has a place to go when things get to be too much at home.
Notes: Written for 14valentines. Today’s topic was Women of Color. Please read the article here.
Thanks to dancinbutterfly for prompting and handholding. She told me to mention that I haven't seen Season 5, so take that into account in the description of Vince's home.
“Stupid bitch!”
Vince’s dad’s voice echoed through the apartment, and Vince winced. Not at the insult, although he would kick anybody else’s ass if they talked about his mom like that. It was just. The neighbors could hear this shit. It was bad enough when there was just an angry thunder of voices, rumbling unintelligibly, but when Vince could make out individual curses from his room, so could Mrs. Zbornak next door and Mr. Lewis upstairs. And that meant Vince was going to have to put up with concerned looks and pats on the shoulder all next week.
“Well, if you were a real man, I wouldn’t have to,” his mom shouted. There was a crash and a thud and the a sudden silence, and Vince jerked upright in bed. He held himself still and quiet, the soft rustle of the sheets sounding loud as he counted out the seconds in his head.
He’d gotten to twelve before the yelling started up again, and he sagged back onto his pillow in relief. Thank fucking God.
Vince lay there, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling and listening to his parents getting louder and more bitter. He didn’t get it. He didn’t get yelling at someone, hurting them over and over, and still saying you loved them. How did that work? But tomorrow his dad would be saying it, and his mom would be fixing him his eggs that way he liked. And Vince … Vince would be flinching away from the neighbors’ noisy questions and offers of “a place to stay, if you need one.”
Fuck that. He had a place to stay.
There was another loud thump, and then Vince’s mom was crying and his dad was nearly screaming. Vince closed his eyes tight for a second, and then threw back the covers and climbed out of bed. He had a place to stay, and it sure as hell wasn’t here.
He was wearing one of Johnny’s old t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants handed down from Ricky, so he just slipped a pair of shoes on his feet and climbed out the window and down the fire escape. The air was cold against his bare arms, and Vince crossed them tight over his chest as he walked the half a block to E’s. It used to freak him out, being out here alone at night, but he‘d gotten used to it. There were two bums on the corner who always huddled up together, even when it was warm out. Vince flicked a glance at them as he passed. A clump of teenagers were sitting on the hood of someone’s car. He would bet money it didn’t belong to any of them. He made sure not to look at them.
When he got to E’s building, Vince grabbed a rock and tossed it up at the window. After a minute, a face appeared in the window, and Vince felt something tight at the back of his throat loosen. E didn’t open the window or call down to him. They’d learned their lesson the first time Vince had come over at night like this. E had leaned out the window to ask if Vince was okay, and E’s sister Maggie had caught them talking like that. She’d teased them about being Romeo and Juliet for a month straight. It had been kind of funny, just for the way being called Juliet made E’s ears go red, but Vince wasn’t looking for a repeat.
E waved once, and then his face disappeared. Vince headed into the building. It wasn’t so different from the one he lived in. The walls were a slightly more yellowish shade of white, and the stairs had a metal railing instead of a wooden one, but that was about it. E was waiting when Vince got to his apartment. He had the latch still on, but he was holding the door open so he could peer out. Something about the way he was standing, most of his body shielded by the door, made him look older. Wary. Then he opened the door, and he was just a short kid with messy red hair and a Mötley Crüe t-shirt that was too big for him.
E’s eyes were heavy with sleep, and it made Vince realize how late it was. “You okay?” E asked. He didn’t say it like the people in Vince’s building, half scared for him and half hungry for gossip. E always asked like he actually cared.
“Yeah.” Vince looked down at his feet. He hadn‘t put socks on, and his ankles looked skinny and pale. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Then get the fuck in here, Vince. What the hell?” E grumbled. He reached out and cupped a hand around the back of Vince’s neck, pulling him inside. He let go to do up all the locks, but then his hand was back, warm on Vince’s shoulder and guiding him down the hall like he hadn’t been here five million times before.
E steered him into his room and then into his bed, and Vince just went. He kicked his shoes off and crawled across the bed to lay down near the wall, and E climbed in next to him. The bed really wasn’t big enough for two, and it should have felt crowded, but Vince never felt like he was taking up more than his share of the space. It was like E just naturally made room for him.
They’d just gotten settled, with the covers pulled up over them and the pillow carefully shared out so two heads would fit on it, when the door opened. “Eric?” E’s mom said. She was highlighted against the hall light, so all Vince could see was the outline of her hair and nightgown. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, ma,” E said. His voice was a loud whisper, like he was afraid to wake his dad or Maggie. “We’re okay.”
She nodded. “Well, don’t expect me to cook you pancakes in the morning,” she said. It was always her big warning, that she wasn’t going to make them pancakes. Vince thought it was her attempt at sounding stern. It didn’t work very well, since he knew she’d have eggs and toast ready when they got up. “Good night, boys.”
Vince lifted his head. “Good night, Mrs. Murphy.” She closed the door quietly behind her.
E was breathing beside Vince, and the mattress creaked a little when one of them moved, but otherwise everything was silent. Vince had read in books where silence pressed in around people, but he didn’t get that. He listened to the quiet of the apartment and thought how empty the air was when it wasn’t full of noise.
Or maybe he was just more tired than he’d thought.
E rolled up onto his side, facing Vince. When he settled into the new position, his fingers were on Vince’s arm, tangled up in his sleeve. Not like he was afraid Vince was going to leave, because E seriously wasn’t afraid of anything. But just like … Vince didn’t actually know what it was like. Maybe like E just liked knowing Vince was there.
Vince listened to E’s breath steady and deepen. He kept on listening until he fell asleep.
Author: allyndra
Fandom: Entourage
Pairing: Vince/E
Rating: PG-13
Length: about 1,200 words
Warning: Domestic violence
Disclaimer: The way the economy is going, I would surely love to be profiting from this, but I’m not and I won’t. They’re not mine.
Summary: Vince has a place to go when things get to be too much at home.
Notes: Written for 14valentines. Today’s topic was Women of Color. Please read the article here.
Thanks to dancinbutterfly for prompting and handholding. She told me to mention that I haven't seen Season 5, so take that into account in the description of Vince's home.
“Stupid bitch!”
Vince’s dad’s voice echoed through the apartment, and Vince winced. Not at the insult, although he would kick anybody else’s ass if they talked about his mom like that. It was just. The neighbors could hear this shit. It was bad enough when there was just an angry thunder of voices, rumbling unintelligibly, but when Vince could make out individual curses from his room, so could Mrs. Zbornak next door and Mr. Lewis upstairs. And that meant Vince was going to have to put up with concerned looks and pats on the shoulder all next week.
“Well, if you were a real man, I wouldn’t have to,” his mom shouted. There was a crash and a thud and the a sudden silence, and Vince jerked upright in bed. He held himself still and quiet, the soft rustle of the sheets sounding loud as he counted out the seconds in his head.
He’d gotten to twelve before the yelling started up again, and he sagged back onto his pillow in relief. Thank fucking God.
Vince lay there, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling and listening to his parents getting louder and more bitter. He didn’t get it. He didn’t get yelling at someone, hurting them over and over, and still saying you loved them. How did that work? But tomorrow his dad would be saying it, and his mom would be fixing him his eggs that way he liked. And Vince … Vince would be flinching away from the neighbors’ noisy questions and offers of “a place to stay, if you need one.”
Fuck that. He had a place to stay.
There was another loud thump, and then Vince’s mom was crying and his dad was nearly screaming. Vince closed his eyes tight for a second, and then threw back the covers and climbed out of bed. He had a place to stay, and it sure as hell wasn’t here.
He was wearing one of Johnny’s old t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants handed down from Ricky, so he just slipped a pair of shoes on his feet and climbed out the window and down the fire escape. The air was cold against his bare arms, and Vince crossed them tight over his chest as he walked the half a block to E’s. It used to freak him out, being out here alone at night, but he‘d gotten used to it. There were two bums on the corner who always huddled up together, even when it was warm out. Vince flicked a glance at them as he passed. A clump of teenagers were sitting on the hood of someone’s car. He would bet money it didn’t belong to any of them. He made sure not to look at them.
When he got to E’s building, Vince grabbed a rock and tossed it up at the window. After a minute, a face appeared in the window, and Vince felt something tight at the back of his throat loosen. E didn’t open the window or call down to him. They’d learned their lesson the first time Vince had come over at night like this. E had leaned out the window to ask if Vince was okay, and E’s sister Maggie had caught them talking like that. She’d teased them about being Romeo and Juliet for a month straight. It had been kind of funny, just for the way being called Juliet made E’s ears go red, but Vince wasn’t looking for a repeat.
E waved once, and then his face disappeared. Vince headed into the building. It wasn’t so different from the one he lived in. The walls were a slightly more yellowish shade of white, and the stairs had a metal railing instead of a wooden one, but that was about it. E was waiting when Vince got to his apartment. He had the latch still on, but he was holding the door open so he could peer out. Something about the way he was standing, most of his body shielded by the door, made him look older. Wary. Then he opened the door, and he was just a short kid with messy red hair and a Mötley Crüe t-shirt that was too big for him.
E’s eyes were heavy with sleep, and it made Vince realize how late it was. “You okay?” E asked. He didn’t say it like the people in Vince’s building, half scared for him and half hungry for gossip. E always asked like he actually cared.
“Yeah.” Vince looked down at his feet. He hadn‘t put socks on, and his ankles looked skinny and pale. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Then get the fuck in here, Vince. What the hell?” E grumbled. He reached out and cupped a hand around the back of Vince’s neck, pulling him inside. He let go to do up all the locks, but then his hand was back, warm on Vince’s shoulder and guiding him down the hall like he hadn’t been here five million times before.
E steered him into his room and then into his bed, and Vince just went. He kicked his shoes off and crawled across the bed to lay down near the wall, and E climbed in next to him. The bed really wasn’t big enough for two, and it should have felt crowded, but Vince never felt like he was taking up more than his share of the space. It was like E just naturally made room for him.
They’d just gotten settled, with the covers pulled up over them and the pillow carefully shared out so two heads would fit on it, when the door opened. “Eric?” E’s mom said. She was highlighted against the hall light, so all Vince could see was the outline of her hair and nightgown. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, ma,” E said. His voice was a loud whisper, like he was afraid to wake his dad or Maggie. “We’re okay.”
She nodded. “Well, don’t expect me to cook you pancakes in the morning,” she said. It was always her big warning, that she wasn’t going to make them pancakes. Vince thought it was her attempt at sounding stern. It didn’t work very well, since he knew she’d have eggs and toast ready when they got up. “Good night, boys.”
Vince lifted his head. “Good night, Mrs. Murphy.” She closed the door quietly behind her.
E was breathing beside Vince, and the mattress creaked a little when one of them moved, but otherwise everything was silent. Vince had read in books where silence pressed in around people, but he didn’t get that. He listened to the quiet of the apartment and thought how empty the air was when it wasn’t full of noise.
Or maybe he was just more tired than he’d thought.
E rolled up onto his side, facing Vince. When he settled into the new position, his fingers were on Vince’s arm, tangled up in his sleeve. Not like he was afraid Vince was going to leave, because E seriously wasn’t afraid of anything. But just like … Vince didn’t actually know what it was like. Maybe like E just liked knowing Vince was there.
Vince listened to E’s breath steady and deepen. He kept on listening until he fell asleep.