O3 👶 IF YOU'LL BE MY BOAT I'LL BE YOUR SEA

[pillz]

WHO: Joseph Kavinsky & Jesse Pinkman (& maybe eventually some other existing CR if peepl would like me to write things)
WHERE: Heropa, maybe eventually De Chima, if someone wants something!
WHEN: Road Less Traveled, potentially other parts of July '16
WHAT: For now, just one closed thread featuring a vegan plotvinsky. Starters will be in comments as need arises, the entry is blank.
WARNINGS: ...surprisingly few!

Comments

closed to jesse pinkman;

[pillz]

[when jesse arrives at the heropan home, he finds himself at a two-story home nearly hidden by trees and a tall, blank white wall— imposing in an understated, perhaps surprisingly tasteful way. it's the kind of place that the wealthy keep when they aren't trying to show off from the neighbors. when they want the neighbors to stay the fuck out, and that's all.

the gate is solid black wood, overlooked by a camera. kavinsky buzzes him in.]

Hi! [kavinsky looks out of place. he still has his beanie on, with its price tag. somewhere, he found a big blobby sweater, the sleeves engulfing his skinny hands. around him, the place is a combination of harsh modern white, the staircase austerely cut and with no railing, the kitchen chrome and steel and grey wood. a chic slate column above a defunct fireplace. there is a big glass sliding door. if jesse were jesse, he might realize the milkiness of the transparency betrays that it's bulletproof.

kavinsky himself looks bright enough. slightly red-eyed from the pot-- and it definitely smells like pot in here, a faint, trace redolence. more pale than a healthy kid should, but a sluggishness starting up around the edges that hadn't been apparent on the video.] I'd give you the tour but it'd probably be more like. Exploration 101. I think I found a panic room? I'm Joe. [he offers a hand.]

[hostage]

[Jesse takes that offered hand with a light grip, shaking it while his attention is mostly elsewhere. He owns a fairly luxurious house of his own, but it's a warmer home than this one.]

This place is sick.

[It looks like something out of a catalog, not a house that's actually inhabited. He has to force himself to focus on the task at hand, because the aesthetics are so damn intriguing. When he looks at Kavinsky again, he fixes on those bloodshot eyes.]

Been smoking?

[pillz]

Thanks, dude. I'm gonna assume I can take credit for it. [kavinsky nods his head. he wishes he looked a bit more presentable, but he knows he could be worse. he's always had a fairly attractive hangover, as hangovers go. he has the cheekbones for it, the hollow eyes— moreso now than ever.

so why should withdrawing from cocaine be different? not that he knows that that's what it is.] Yeah. Trying to deal with feeling like shit. It's kind of working.

[he blinks a little, wearily. his eyelids stutter just a little, but then he smiles gamely, turning to motion at the bar across from the fireplace.] You want something to drink? [he asks.] I'll go get the pills.

[hostage]

Hold on a second.

[Because he doesn't really want to make Kavinsky run around and fetch a bunch of things for him while the kid's in a state like this. Jesse reaches out, not quite touching his cheek but hovering, more like asking for permission to do so.]

You mind if I..?

brief reminder about the paradoxical effects of non-transfer healing! (im down for it)

[pillz]

[whoa. kavinsky blinks, and the blurry peach-colored drift of finger-shapes in front of his face resolves very briefly into a single focused image of jesse's fingers. for one hazy, confused instant, kavinsky-- joey, actually, thinks maybe that jesse was that moved by the cheekbones in question. however, his brain figures it out in a minute.

insofar as that he still has no idea what jesse is doing, but tongue-fucking a teenage zombie is probably not it. he smiles a little, ruefully, and nods his head.]

it's always a transfer with him

[hostage]

[Tongue-fucking a teenage zombie is not his current objective, no. He makes contact with Kavinsky's skin, drawing the sickness out of him so that it's Jesse who, after a moment, is now suffering from that hangover and the lingering effects of withdrawal.

He withdraws his hand, then, and brings it to his throbbing temple.]

Jesus. Hope all that partying was worth it.

[pillz]

[and just like that, kavinsky feels exponentially better.

if he could remember the first time they met, he'd say: we've got to stop meeting like this. maybe next time. at least russian overlords aren't involved today. small blessings, as it is. today, the major blessing is the flood of comfort through his body. the ache, the jittery, the ugliness in his mind fades away.

not that it could have killed him. even at the worst possible heights of cocaine withdrawal, kavinsky's invincibility stands him in good stead. jesse can tell that a fair bit of it is psychosomatic, and a floating pain syndrome without real organic damage.

it's the nice thing about coming off drugs.]

I'd say it was, but I don't fucking remember any of it, [joey says, blinking.] Holy crap. You're amazing. Anyone tell you that before?

[hostage]

Yeah, but it's nice to hear.

[A little appreciation goes a long way when he's suffering for others. Jesse leans back against the counter, still cradling his head in his hand while he focuses on regenerating.]

Not to get all preachy, but you really oughta be careful with this shit. Especially when you're blacking out like that. It's dangerous, you know?

[pillz]

[though the feeling of wellbeing is lasting, kavinsky's happiness is short-lived. man. jesse looks terrible. the younger man looks at the older man a little ruefully, and then quickly scuttles off to the nearby bar. nothing scandalous-- he just gets a little water out of the minifridge under there. and lemon.

what a seventeen-year-old boy is doing with a mansion that has a fully-stocked private bar is anybody's guess.] Which shit? [he asks, carrying the water over to jesse. he offers the glass to him.] The pot or the pills? I'm not taking the pills anymore, [he adds quickly. (he doesn't mind some low-key preaching.) (it makes him feel cared for.)

(a weakness for both kavinskys, actually, even if they operate in very different ways.)]

[hostage]

[He nods in thanks as he reaches for the glass, taking a small sip before setting it aside.]

The pills, the alcohol... The pills and the alcohol mixed together... Even the pot, you know, you should be careful how much you're smoking. Not that it'll kill you, but it's easy to kinda start depending on it. The whole wake-n-bake habit. It fucked me up for a while when I was your age, before I got clean.

[pillz]

[kavinsky watches the older man carefully while he's speaking. he listens carefully, too. it's not like he's seen jesse's credentials, but something about his demeanor makes him think that he knows what he's talking about. maybe it's the kindness. maybe it's the healing, at his own expense.]

I wasn't that careful. But I'll be careful now, [he promises. and then slowly, or at least slow enough that jesse can nip away if he wants, and gently, or gently enough that jesse can pull away if he wants, he reaches over to grasp the older man's hand and pull him toward the couches. they're extremely comfortable, whether or not you're baked. a good place to wait until he gets the pills out.] Maybe you should've stuck with nursing.

[hostage]

[Jesse lips twitch into a little smile as Kavinsky leads him away. Once they've reached the couch, he sinks down onto it.]

I might go back to it someday.

[pillz]

Maybe you should. [kavinsky releases jesse's hand in a minute, and then flashes the man a quick smile, not quite shy, but furtive, as if he's sneaking it in before he suspects disapproval is about to happen.] Be right back.

[he reaches up to tug his beanie down tighter above his ears, and then scuttles off into the mansion. it's as big and quiet as it is posh-- his bare feet echo almost tinnily against the cold stone. but it's not too long before he's back, either.]

[hostage]

[Jesse's made a notable improvement by the time Kavinsky returns, though it's only a minute or two later. The color's returned to his skin and that glazed look is gone from his eyes. He sits forward as Kavinsky reenters, flashing a reassuring smile at him. He's not going to give another lecture.]

You got the stuff?

[pillz]

[kavinsky is surprised to see his companion looking so much better so soon. he steps over, slinking around the austere slab of the coffee table. sits down beside him, and opens his hand.] Yeah I got it, [he says.] I got a couple of each kind that I could find...

[and there are quite a few different sorts of pills. the most prominent are bright, almost neon green; second, some red ones. there are yellow too, nearly mustard in tone. and then a few pink ones, glassy-looking, more transparent. like gels of some kind. all of them are neatly closed up in a ziplock bag.] No labels on anything, [he says.] I guess I knew what their colors were code for before. But honestly, right now? I got nooo idea. [a beat.]

Your powers are awesome.

[hostage]

[Distractedly:]

Thanks, I guess.

[Jesse plucks up each pill for examination, but there's little he can tell by sight. He's no expert, not by any means.]

I can take these down to the hospital, have 'em examined in the lab. Not that we really need to worry about you, 'cause what I just did to you shoulda gotten rid of every trace you had in your system.

[pillz]

Really? Shit. [joey is suitably impressed some more.] A'ight.

Wish you could've put my ass back, though. [he winks, laughs. puts his hands back to clap himself on the bottom, which has disappeared into the after-effects of kavinsky's coke habit. which, by the way, when it returns is going to lead to some unbelievable, almost uncomfortable highs.]

Can you let me know what you hear? I know I'm like, a minor or whatever, but I swear I dunno where that came from. And I wanna help if it's dangerous.