28 👶 HEARTBREAK MULTIPLIES [closed]

[pillz]

WHO: Joseph Kavinsky & 'friends' ig
WHERE: De Chima, Maurtia Falls, etc.
WHEN: October 2019
WHAT: Catch-all for October, hmu on Plurk @ shramp if you would like to play!
WARNINGS: Possible violence, sexual content, offensive language (racism, sexism, etc.)



closed to kylo ren;

[it's breakfast at the meadows, for those of us who may periodically eat breakfast. and kavinsky is here. it's the first time anyone has seen him back at the meadows after the explosive encounter with murphy last month, but it was probably inevitable that that reprieve would end. kylo ren no doubt feels it in the force long before he makes his way down the steps.

the dream thief is sitting at the table, neglecting a cup of coffee by his hand.] We gotta stop meeting like this, [kavinsky says, almost as if nothing had happened. but this is actually just how he is after things have happened. there's a brief death threats phase, then a violent overreaction phase, then an eerie approximation of indifference phase, and not always in that order or single iteration. he scratches his neck, studying kylo ren out from under heavy eyelids.]

Hey. Hey, how you feel about chopping some wood topless today? Paparazzi would love it. Not gonna lie, I could use the cash.

closed to ronan;

[the joseph kavinsky apology tour of october 2019 starts how you'd expect. on the first day of october, the words,

my bad 😔
can be found spraypainted on the outside of the meadows house in lurid green paint, while smelling eerily like blood, yet fading away politely as the sun makes its way up and down the sky. on the second day of october, the icepack that had been rendered to k's use is replaced in the fridge, and there are irish mince pies too, as well as an automated robotic lawnmower swerving dangerously close to killing the family of voles in the yard outside. on the third day, kavinsky texts.]

come hang out 2day

closed to cassidy;

I wanted to say thanks for letting me stay. [kavinsky seems more normal now. i mean he's never been normal, and cassidy only met him after he began a life of crimes you can get the electric chair for, some parts of the world back home. but a couple weeks ago, when he slept on the couch with a face like an overripe melon attacked by a hacksaw, he'd seemed full of spiky, humming, hideous energy, a wasp hive in a human skinsuit.

but today, he's more like his usual self. healed, obviously. smug and slightly subhuman, cleaned up nicely outside that hints heavily as to the dirt in his soul. and grinning big, boyish when the vampire comes to the door. he seizes cassidy by the hand.] C'mon.

closed to rupert;

[2am at the club, maurtia falls. which club? a club. kavinsky generally just rolls up to the first place with valet and a long enough line out front to look intimidating, flashes his import id, and that's enough to get himself in, even in absence of a cis lady figure.

in reality, kavinsky drinks and does far fewer drugs than he used to, and being at the club is a new kind of high. well, an old one. one that actually predated the drinking and the drugging, but enhanced it. kavinsky actually likes being around people, much as he hates everything including people. he likes how people are hungry, needy, exploitable, fun. he likes the validation of his admirers, the pain of his critics, the rush of conquest any time he breaks someone to his will, even if it's something as stupid as bumping into someone on the sidealk without apologizing.

which he does now. but dr. chilton raised him better than that, and the next moment, he's setting his sights on the neon door at the end of the velvet ropes. he starts toward it, slinging the key fob for his black jaguar into the hands of the valet man along with a fat tip (also credit to: dr. c). he doesn't notice the other young import pausing by the roadside.]

Comments

[photophobic]

Make it haiku.

[Kylo repeats the direction back as if simply hearing it again should be mockery enough. Seizes the handle of the axe with both broad, strong hands, and wrenches it free from the vicious bite it left in the stump with his own personal brand of oddly fluid brutality.
Then, after a measured moment of not-so-idly testing its weight and balance in his grip, he throws Kavinsky a flat stare over his shoulder so perfectly calibrated that it somehow is the wicked smirk it would form on any other face. It's just wearing a costume.]

Really. What exactly about me suggests I obey size limits.

[pillz]

[thank god they're filming. this is going to be the best trailer that kavinsky has ever produced. mind you, he generally produces garbage for television.

but it's incredible. the queers are going to eat it up. so are the girls, and quite a few of those who identify as neither gender in the traditional binary. kavinsky is plainly delighted. and kavinsky, in delight, is a strange thing to see. these days, he doesn't scream with primal laughter or rattle around coke-high anymore. instead, his happiness is more parts stillness than vibration. a smile, boyish and bright on the cusp of laughter. holding his breath, by some strange reflex.]

Make it rhyme?

[photophobic]

Not that kind of poet.

[Well. He is. He loves a good rhyme, particularly if it comes as a surprise— but not in words. And he knows, on some level, that he is something of a rhyme himself. The repeated message, the cosmic joke, dramatic irony.

Poetic justice.

The most tedious part of splitting firewood is setting up the pieces. And so he cheats. His fingers flex, the first oversized lump sets itself up endwards, and Kylo looses himself on it. The swing of the axe is deadly smooth as it slices through the air, the split through the wood horribly and inevitably clean. The pieces fall apart.

It is, in miniature, precisely what makes Kylo a monster. He doesn't hate trees. He didn't hate the vast majority of the dead he leaves in his wake. He simply needed firewood.]

How much did you want.

[pillz]

[this is the best show on earth though. maybe kavinsky should make a show. look at those biceps, look at that mighty hew of blade through wood. splinters flying, light coloring the heavy cut of muscle in kylo ren's back. kavinsky grins like a fox.]

Think that's enough.

[boop! kavinsky touches his finger to the screen of his comm device, ending the video recording. he plays it back real quick, skipping through just to check that he caught the shining glory of hard kylo bod and dour kylo sass. wonderfully, the precious pixels are intact. he slides the phone into his pocket and looks at the huge pile of chopped wood. work done. trolling over?

nah.

kavinsky's eyes are hooded as he walks up to the force user. the energy around kavinsky has sharp edges. less grease than he did in his past life. he stops on the grass in front of kylo ren, his narrow hips slightly jutted, a boyish grin on his face, an easy monster behind his stare.] Can I kiss you?

[photophobic]

[Whatever Kylo was expecting, this wasn't it— and later, he'll be irritated that any of that surprise slipped out before he could catch it. There isn't much that makes it past the border fence, but it doesn't matter. Does it. It only takes the slightest hint of blood in the water to encourage a creature like Kavinsky.

Kylo looms over him, his deliberately impassive expression a largely worthless disguise now.]

I don't think you could reach.

[pillz]

[it is very true. that's enough blood. the shark has sensed it, from miles' distance, and is closing in.

though to be fair, in real life, it's only a few feet and kylo ren is enormous, handsome, and under close inspection. there wasn't much kavinsky would have missed. and the little pause gets a smile, sudden and secretive and brilliant. it makes him look younger, less evil.]

Is that a no?

[photophobic]

[Kylo considers. It's a slow, unhurried process, the mechanism turning visibly behind his dark, steady gaze. He leaves a broad hand steadying the handle of the axe while the other lifts, reaches, cradles the side of Kavinsky's pale face then tips it up by the chin for inspection.

His thumb could slide over the soft curve of his lips, from here. It doesn't. Yet.]

What kind of message would I be sending if I kissed you right now, Joseph?

[It's a low, deceptively mild murmur. Perhaps the most dangerous kind.]

[pillz]

[kavinsky has an excellent poker face. actually, the greatest weakness of his poker face is that it's -- too good, almost. sometimes he doesn't laugh soon enough, roll his eyes, sneer. he goes straight to an empty mask, unreadable except to sign to anyone who knows him that there's something to hide.

one that he's determined kylo ren's fingers will not unseat. of course, ronan lynch would pick a boyfriend who has to make it weird.]

You're not kissing me, Ren. I'm kissing you.

You don't even have to come down here, sweetheart. [and then his tattooed fingers are on the fastenings of kylo ren's trousers. deft -- as a thief's and just as intrusive. he only needs an inch, maybe two. kylo ren's actual dick still remains firmly on ronan's side of their uneasy truce.]

[photophobic]

[Kylo's breath catches. His grip flashes tighter.

He is, for all the many and varied ways Ronan's willingly offered body has lead him into temptation and beyond, not so far removed from all those untouched years— and in the sharp, frozen instant of shock, it shows. No-one touches Kylo like this, brazen and uninvited. Maybe, no-one ever has.

The thrill of it flutters at the edge of his voice. Slams through his blood. His eyes tear themselves from the shape he knows Kavinsky's mouth would adopt if he pushed his thumb past his lips-- force, he wants to make him suck on it, wants those wicked, filthy fingers snatching at him like he knows none of this is his, none of it...]

I don't think you're kissing anything.

[It's slow, this time, the imposition of Kylo's will. A smooth swell of pressure to leave Kavinsky struggling, steadily drowning in molasses. The inevitable winding down of a stuttering music box, fighting to sound out the last remaining notes of the melody.]

[pillz]

[kavinsky's experience of existential panic tends to involve the complete inversion of the board he was playing on. he harms himself instead of the next person he hates so much, and his exacted vengeance lands his own ass in fucking jail. he is exactly the kind of sore loser who will tell himself, once the table is shattered and the pieces are flung on the floor, that this is was winning to him all along.

he can feel kylo pushing in his mind with something other than predictable violence. in a different life, he would have fucked up in an obvious way. what are you gonna do when adam parrish comes back? in a sneer. try and punch kylo ren in the dick, maybe. furious, that the force master is trying to turn this into something that it isn't.

but all he says is:]

Dunno what to tell you, buddy. You get used to being wrong.

[snik. the fabric of the trousers comes apart in kavinsky's hands. he goes down on one knee, his narrow chin slipping out of kylo ren's hand. in no rush, but there's something unmistakably defiant about it, as a knife defies ribs.

and his mouth finds that delectable crease at kylo ren's hip. the flexor muscle that runs oblique down to his groin. it's only that, which he runs his lips down, from the plane of kylo ren's waist down to the half-peeled hem of his clothes, and right at the very end, his tongue darts out small and pink as a cat's.]

[photophobic]

[And that's where the amber solidifies.

Kylo, his breath ripped into rags. Fingers of one hand curled tight around the anchoring weight of the axe propped against his thigh, the other hanging in the air. They're so close, Kylo and the dream thief locked into defiant genuflection at his feet, that his every shuddering exhale has Kavinsky's mouth dragging against his bared skin.

In, out. In, and out again. He has him, entirely at his mercy. His pulse thuds, viciously hard.

And his fingers come to rest on Kavinsky's frozen shoulder. Slowly, horribly slowly, he slides down into a crouch, finding a level with his eyes and holding it. Kylo's face is too flushed for the steadiness of his expression.]

Do you know what forgiveness is.

[Rhetorical. Kavinsky can't answer it anyway. The question might even be more of a fixed point for Kylo to anchor himself to than anything else. But gradually, as he speaks, as he regains control over himself, his control over his captive begins to ease. ]

Ronan told me. In the chapel, over there. Long before he knew all the things I have done, all the things they did. To me. He said. Forgiveness, is choosing not to punish someone. Even when you have the right.

[pillz]

[kavinsky is stuck.

it's funny in one sense. he can't move for a couple of seconds, at all, and it should fucking terrify him probably-- he and kylo ren aren't exactly friends.

he doesn't know what they are. and kylo ren crouching down in front of him, looking him in the eye, telling him these things, confuses the matter further. enough so, that even when he can wiggle his fingers and stretch his jaw, he doesn't really know what he wants to do. all them trusty, violent impulses have momentarily deserted him. this is about their little game, probably. the one where ronan lynch is the stakes, the winnings, and the terms, all three of those simultaneously.

or maybe kylo ren just wants an audience to his own journey. kavinsky understands the urge. but he doesn't understand this.]

You know what that sounds like to me? [kavinsky hears himself ask.] That sounds like it's over. That sounds like leaving.

[photophobic]

[There's a strange pause following Kavinsky's words, as if Kylo is the one slowly recovering mastery of his nerves. His eyes search the dream thief's face, his expression shifting minutely in the direction of curiosity or confusion. Both.]

It would. Wouldn't it.

[Slow, as if the answer to an unspecified question is coming together in real time. There's a discovery Kylo is making as he speaks.]

If you thought they were all you are. Your sins.

fuck it i'm going for it! enjoy your daily dose of dairy

[pillz]

[you sound like a fucking priest, kavinsky thinks of saying. dismissive and crude. this is a waste of time. if he doesn't get to play gay chicken with kylo ren, then what's the point? what else is there between them?

ronan. whom he's only ever caused pain and frustration. them sins.]

I'd say more than half of me.

[he's not being facetious. well-- he is. but not only facetious. kavinsky gathers his feet underneath him and straightens, suddenly, standing himself full upright. it's pretty out here, because ronan made it. a ronan before this one. reminders of endings, of leaving, and nothing good stays— but that with each successive year, of each iteration, all that does remain indeed are his sins.] Depends what kind of person you are, Ren.

You get people who fuck with whoever fucks with them. And you get people who fuck with the ones who don't, because they can. Some have emotional scars, and other people have scars on scars.

[(kavinsky has never watched a star war movie, okay, or he'd be more cognizant of the unlevel playing field here.)

(but he looks at kylo, his defiance less simple or sexual now, but maybe more honest for that, his face blank in a way that means he's angry. confused, too.)]

Life is what other people dream for you. And nobody's fucking stupid enough to dream about me anymore.

i may be lactose intolerant but nothing will prevent me guzzling cheese of this quality

[photophobic]

[Yes. Well. That's why you become a nightmare instead, isn't it.
Kylo straightens up.]

I would have killed him.

[Which isn't quite the non sequitur it appears, if the cool stare into Kavinsky's eyes is any indication.]

And that's why I decided not to punish you. For what you did, fucking with him. You were never going to shoot him.

[pillz]

[kavinsky is very good at avoiding real and direct conversations. he literally delays them up until the other option is straight-up dying.

as such, when confronted with one, he doesn't understand what he's dealing with. he's the proverbial idiot standing too close to an elephant. what's this rope? what's this grey hide. man with butterfly meme: is this intimacy?

but he can't bring himself to spit in kylo ren's face, even though there's half an impulse there. he only stares, half sure of what they're talking about. believing it to be impossible.]

The fuck are you talking about? [he asks, finally.] You don't even know.

[photophobic]

I know.

[Kylo, on the other hand, has little interest in anything other than real conversations. Direct may not exactly be his flavour of choice— why say anything simply when it can be wrapped in richly distracting metaphor, all the better to trip you up with? But there are times when a blunt punch carries all the meaning necessary.

He knows. Of course he knows.]

[pillz]

[kavinsky stares at kylo ren for a long moment, eye to very dark eye, until his own stare begins to lose focus. it's not that kylo ren stares him down, exactly.

(maybe a little.)]

He belongs to Lynch now, [kavinsky says, finally. he shoves his hands in his pockets, careful not to look disdainful; that would be overcompensating, too clearly. he is nothing if not a good liar. he lies with finesse, even if that finesse is so often the appearance of having none.] And I owe your boyfriend a couple things.

[a home, or at least a place to sleep. a second chance, followed by a third, fourth. fifth. which chance are they on now? affection with consequences, instead of conditions.]

And that's not the same as forgiveness, Ren.

[that line comes out of kavinsky almost without plan, intent. he isn't sure what he means by it. that he hasn't forgiven ronan? that he doesn't believe ronan has forgiven him. that they're past that, too far broken for redemption to matter anymore. no dreams to return to, only nightmares ahead.]

[photophobic]

[There are... so many threads Kylo wants to follow. So many secrets he wants to uncover. He sees them all glinting from the churned up earth, signs that something of greater interest might just lie beneath if he takes the time to dig them free.

He sees something of the contrast between this dreamer and his, flashing past. Something about different kinds of belonging. He thinks, no, you have it all wrong, you have everything inside out— and he doesn't know why.

Murphy is one of Ronan's chosen. As Kavinsky is. As Kylo himself is. But being one of Ronan's things isn't about being owned, and Kavinsky has to know that. Doesn't he? Why would Kavinsky...]

Is that why you wanted to kiss me.

[It isn't the question he'd been intending to ask. He'd meant to steer them as far away from it as possible, but in the end, this is the hook he gets caught on. (naturally. He's been fooled into believing he was anything more than the most convenient tool for a purpose before.) Is it all just to fuck with Ronan? Is that really all it is? All of it?

His stare has lost most of its power.] Balance.

[pillz]

[it's like kylo ren forgot every word of meta that he juts processed about blood in the water. or that there's a shark swimming nearby.

but the shark, kavinsky, doesn't bite.

kavinsky studies kylo ren. rare to see the force master like this. at least for kavinsky, who has come to see the big man as a monolith of darkness, the kind of self-assured power that you have to hammer and beat at, to strike with bombs and flint, strategy and vicious patience, to find even the smallest crack. kavinsky's good at breaking things. he knows it. sometimes, he's even proud of it.

but this is unexpected. like turning over a stone to find a bleeding wound in it.

kavinsky finds himself trying not to smile, but this once, there's no malice in it and no trick.]

No, [he says.] Come on, Ren. You ever met a fucking mirror? Come on man. [his turn to back down, slightly. he studies kylo's axe.]

What's the worst thing you've ever done?

[photophobic]

[Kylo, with his ability to see in the minds of others exactly what they think and feel about him, has met plenty of mirrors.

Some reflections he likes more than others. Some are far more flattering and pleasant to look at. He's always enjoyed the way he appears in Kavinsky's thoughts, whenever he catches a glimpse of the particular colours of challenge and power the dream thief chooses to paint him with.

A thin smile pulls over his face at the question.]

I've done a lot of things that might be considered the worst of all my sins, depending on who you asked. I've inflicted a lot of wounds. Which would you like to judge me on? The deepest? Or the cruelest. The wickedest.

[pillz]

Are you fucking with me?

[the question is light.] Whipping out a thesaurus after I low-key offered to suck your dick. That's rude. [kavinsky stretches out his tattooed arms on either side of himself.]

Look, I'll call off the stupid game. I feel like that's what you're angling for. [which was, after all, all about their respective pasts. their sins. whether they could let that go, for ronan's sake. for the sake of this place.] But you gotta give me something, man.

[photophobic]

[A flash of amusement crosses Kylo's face— but not, importantly, mockery.]

I'm not fucking with you. Though if what you wanted was to suck my dick, Joseph, maybe you should have said so.

[The slight tilt of his head indicates a shift in direction. Amusement slips away, uncovering the curiosity beneath.]

What is it you want? Not from Ronan. From me. Do you know?

[pillz]

[kylo ren without ronan lynch operating as easy, obvious, reliable reason. kavinsky has to think about that.]

Victory, without having to fight or risk having to lose. Figure you out, without having to look like I'm trying. Figure me out, without having to be wrong, any point. [there's the briefest ghost of a smile. he seems like he's quoting someone after that, lyrical and one foot somewhere else. he is far removed from the kid ronan used to know.] Pleasure, acceptance, a reasonable return in investment.

What do you want?

[photophobic]

[Most people would nod slowly. Kylo doesn't— but only because he doesn't have the instinct to make a display of his agreement that others often expect. He doesn't care to encourage.

He is pleased, though. These are good answers. And, more importantly, they match.]

Adventure.

[Now, his mouth pulls into a curve.]

Discovery. I could pull some more words from the thesaurus if you like.