I need a gangsta to love me better than all the others do.

[hostage]

WHO: Jesse Pinkman & Joseph Kavinsky
WHERE: Sundown Motel in Maurtia Falls
WHEN: Night of July 19
WHAT: Kavinsky needs to test some drugs, so naturally he hit Jesse up.
WARNINGS: Drugs, duh. And a whole lot of perversion from Kavinsky's direction.

[It may be the shittiest motel on the block, but tonight, room number 235 is also a functioning laboratory. Not a meth lab, for once. It's all about analysis. Too heavy to rest on any of the cheap furniture, the gas chromatograph's set up on the floor. It looks something like a desktop computer with a huge printer beside it. The rest of Jesse's supplies are scattered on the folding table in the corner. It's not much. He doesn't actually need much. He's done this shit in an RV before.

Waiting for Kavinsky to show up, Jesse's sprawled out on the bed with a cigarette hanging from his mouth and a half-eaten box of pizza next to him. Some old movie's playing on TV, though Jesse has it muted so he's mostly just watching the actors emote on the screen. Whatever's going on looks very dramatic, half-shrouded in shadow. Kind of creepy, only not in a horror way. Jesse's transfixed to the point of meditation, lost to the passing of time.]

Comments

[pillz]

[kavinsky shows up, bag over one bare shoulder and crazy-eyed, like he hasn't slept in a few days-- which is true. he slinks through the door like an alley cat, up onto the bed with nervy quickness. the television doesn't get a second look. he takes the cigarette out of jesse's mouth and takes a drag, before reaching to pit it back in the older man's mouth again.]

What color are your nipples? [he asks, immediately. he grins with too much teeth; his pupils are huge, as ever.] Fanart can't decide. I think you gotta analyze my cocaine too. How long would that shit take?

[hostage]

[Unfazed, Jesse waits until Kavinsky returns the cigarette to his mouth, then sits up. He takes in the sight of Kavinsky's tweaked-out face and breathes a weary sigh.]

They're nipple-colored. And it'll take a couple hours. It's okay, I got the room for the night.

[pillz]

[the sigh makes kavinsky smile, thin as a skinning knife. he lets himself fall backward out of his squat, sitting his ass on the mattress. starts to unzip the bag, then digs his hand around inside.

he brings out what looks like a plasma bag. however, instead of the usual dull, dark red contents, it's a luminous, toxic-looking sci-fi blue.] Wouldn't touch this shit with your bare hands, if I were you, [he says.] Nobody likes to count on bases of nine. Even if the shit would grow back. How'd you learn to do this shit, anyway? That's some serious fucking hardware.

[hostage]

[Jesse gets up off the bed and takes the plasma bag with him, crossing the room to set it on the folding table. He talks while he works, preparing a syringe to get a sample of the blue stuff:]

A lotta very bad people with a lotta very big guns made sure I became an expert on this shit or else they were gonna kill me. I guess you could say I was in the most fucked-up chemistry class ever.

[pillz]

[when the older man vacates, kavinsky rolls over on the bed. he gives jesse's pillow a brief creeper sniff, then reaches over to get the remote. he stares at the tv a moment, trying to figure out what had entranced the man so.

i'm in your head, he'd told ronan once. it's been awhile since he tried to lay eggs in someone's psyche, but the habit's still there. a moment, then his lips twist. he changes the channel, starting to surf erratically. at some point, jesse might observe and point out to him his tolerance isn't what it used to be, after billy kaplan's magical rehab adventure.]

Are those motherfuckers dead now?

[hostage]

[Nothing escapes Jesse's notice. Not the fact that Kavinsky's sniffing his pillow and not the channel-surfing, either. No comment on it for now, as he turns to kneel at the gas chromatograph and inject the solution into the septum.]

Oh yeah, they're super dead. So many holes in 'em they looked like swiss cheese.

[And it warms his cold heart. He's smiling fondly at the memory as he punches a few buttons on the machine and it comes whirring to life.]

[pillz]

[murder smiling makes kavinsky curious. he has an ill-defined but generally predictable set of interests.

so he rolls again on the bed, over to the edge that jesse is closest to. the teenager dangles his head off the edge, his throat stretching long, and peers at jesse's profile upside down. in the meantime, he turns the tv volume up to bloody deafening.]

You pull the trigger? [he asks, loud over the canned laughter.]

[hostage]

[Now that the machine's doing its work, Jesse gets up and reaches for the remote. The TV doesn't have to be quite that loud to mask them. It's not going to serve them at all if someone complains to Management.]

Not me. I was in chains. One of 'em, I snapped his neck when I got the chance. But the rest... That was somebody else.

[Strange to talk about killing and feel not a shred of remorse. Strange to feel a giddiness in the pit of his stomach, instead. And when the words somebody else leave his mouth, it's clear he's talking about somebody he loves. But that's natural, isn't it? It's natural to love someone who rescues you from slavery and endless torture.]

[pillz]

[there's no resistance in kavinsky's fingers. he gives up the remote, easy as you like. Looks up at jesse's face the whole time, hungrily. he is envious of whomever this is. ronan had been so ungrateful, and love in general an elusive thing in his life where he's a dick to everyone.

the giddiness of violence doesn't surprise him at all, even if he generally performed his under influence of drugs.]

That what it takes to get the prize hiding up your asshole? [he asks. he scoots along the bed a little, so he can lay his head flat now that the older man is up.] What was his name? [derp derp sexism.]

[hostage]

Heisenberg.

[If Kavinsky does any reading at all (not likely) then he might recognize the name from Chilton's bestseller. And Jesse uses that name deliberately - rather than Walter White - because Walt died a long time ago and Heisenberg possessed his body. Jesse will never be sure on the exact moment that happened, but he does know it was Heisenberg who came for him that night.]

And you don't gotta kill a bunch of people to get that prize. You just gotta grow up first.

[Jesse takes a final drag from his cigarette before tossing it into a nearby soda can. Then he sinks into the bed beside Kavinsky. It's gonna be a while.]

[pillz]

[it might seem a good thing, that kavinsky isn't handsy with the object of his desire up close, in person.

it's not.

but jesse is immune to the alternatives in ways that the kid's creepiness does not account for. kavinsky tap-tap-taps his fingers on the bedspread, his eyes overbright.] I told you, [he says.] I'm eighteen. And I killed my dad, if that's the shit you like.

[lies. told well, but they are.]

[hostage]

It's not.

[There's a very specific pleasure he derives from hurting the people who've hurt him, and that pleasure doesn't extend any further.]

It's not the shit I like. And I'll eat my own ass if you're eighteen.

[Kavinsky can say it over and over again, but when he acts like a fourteen-year-old, Jesse can't help but see him like one.]

[pillz]

I'd like to watch that. [kavinsky's hollow eyes go thin like a cat's. a change in age is likelier to occur than any objective improvement in his behavior, so

his life is real hard.]

Hey, candyass. [he sits up suddenly, his green-veined knuckles knotting on the bedspread. he also opens his legs wider because of course he would do that, even if he didn't need the counterweight to move. he is boasting the lazy beginning of a boner, nothing too serious.] I'll make you something. You pick or I'm gonna choose for you.

[hostage]

[Very nice, Kavinsky, but Jesse's looking at your face.]

If I told you I want a key that'll open any lock, could you do it?

[pillz]

[kavinsky cocks his head. that's an interesting challenge, particularly given he knows at least one magician in the business of security.

he also doesn't close his legs, of course!]

Could, [he says.] Where do you wanna go, Pinkman?

[hostage]

Out, if I have to. Out of any place anybody ever locks me up.

[So maybe he's giving a little too much information about what terrifies him, but this is worth it. The way giving gallons of his blood to Elsa Brandt for her magic was well worth it.]

Could you make it outta something that wouldn't show up in an x-ray?

[pillz]

[valuable insight. kavinsky tilts his head slightly and smiles.]

I could , [he says, with the same shitty emphasis. he likes the idea of having something that jesse wants. he doesn't like the idea of giving it up too quickly. that had gone poorly for him, last time.]

[hostage]

[Jesse's not going to beg.]

You gonna gimme a price or you just wanna drag it out?

tw sexual coercion

[pillz]

[now this is the fun part. one of. kavinsky worked out, at some point between their initial meeting and their current motel stay, that jesse's refusal to fuck probably comes from some kind of principles.

(kavinsky has a low bar for what constitutes a principle.)

but if it comes down to principle or fear, kavinsky will always bet on fear. he shrugs, his face pleasantly blank. he's stopped fidgeting for a minute.] You know what I want.

[hostage]

Very funny.

[Jesse's not that desperate. He might not even be that desperate if he were locked in a cell right now.]

Cash or product. Those are your choices. I don't trick.

[pillz]

[kavinsky's eyes flicker, his face draining to comfortably blank.]

Kiss or a favor, [he says finally.] To be determined and collected later. Nothing that'd get me hard.

[hostage]

Like I ain't doing you a favor right now?

[Not just anybody would show up in a motel with a gas chromatograph to analyze mysterious drugs.]

[pillz]

[kavinsky laughs-- the kind of laugh that probably leaves a thin oily film on anything the soundwaves touch. then, restlessness finally catching up to him, he gets up.

starts to bounce on the mattress, his shoes pressing prints into the blanket.] Should've negotiated earlier, old man. Deal or no deal?

[hostage]

[Jesus Christ. He should really put this kid in his place. If Kavinsky spoke like this to any other boss in this business, he'd be beaten to near-death then decapitated or hanged from an overpass. It's not a habit to encourage. But Jesse smiles, because he likes the kid - this kid who will probably turn on him someday - so much more than he should.]

Stop it.

[The goddamn bouncing. Like he's literally five.]

Come here.

[pillz]

[kavinsky was fourteen and now he's downgrading to five. also destined for graphic. outlook is definitely poor.

but he stops bouncing when jesse tells him to, and despite himself and all of his hate, a curious flicker of hope slips across his narrow face. to someone less accustomed to shitty company, it'd probably look like the interest that a cat would show a mouse shortly before bisection. but jesse doesn't think of himself as a mouse, so he might see something else.]

Yo. If you have cum breath you gotta disclose that shit. Legally, [he warns, before dropping to his knees. he lands heavily enough to make the whole bed squeak and crawls over, expecting nothing.]