TEXTS FROM LAST NIGHT

[sanjunipero]

TEXTS FROM LAST NIGHT

Have a little too much to drink last night and send that embarrassing text to your ex?

Did you party a little too hard and send pictures of the wild night... to all of your contacts?

Was 3am when you dusted off the number of that old flame and confessed how much you wanted them back?

Or simply catching up on the adventures that drunk you got into?

Just because heaven is a place on earth at San Junipero doesn't mean it's without any consequence. Be careful checking your phone in the morning, it might have some weird texts from last night.

MAY BE NSFW

Comments

[corve]

[ He hates Kavinsky and he doesn't understand why he wants anything from him, but he wants something. He hates feeling so completely meaningless to a boy who otherwise centered his entire world around him -- and underneath that, he hates that it even gets to him. Why the fuck should he care what Kavinsky thinks? Why the hell is he so mad about being thrown out when he wouldn't have stuck around for much longer anyway?

Because it feels like defeat. It's giving Kavinsky the advantage, starting this web of secrets between them again, transporting them right back where they left off.

Some things don't change. They'll never change.

His words are thrown back at him, ten times as cruel as he'd made them sound in the first place and Ronan clenches his opposite hand into a tight fist while he wipes the other clean on his shirt, adding to the mess and the tangible reminders of this night Ronan knows he'll have no trouble remembering. ]

Fuck you, man.

[ Ronan grumbles as he staggers to his feet, adjusting himself in the front of his sweats and giving Kavinsky a hard glare, his words just as venomous and finely sharpened. ]

Don't ever let me fucking see you again.

[ Says the boy who came all the way out to Kavinsky's house to see him ]

[fucking_kavinsky]

[ Kavinsky's only good for Ronan when he wants something. He's only someone he can fuck around with when Kavinsky's entire attention is on him. Maybe if Ronan realizes that Kavinsky can move right the hell on, he won't be such a dick and won't take advantage of him at every fucking turn.

It sucks when your own bullshit gets thrown back in your face. He hopes Ronan falls in it.

His cigarettes are just out of arms reach, but he's feeling too lazy to reach over and grab them. He's still riding a good high here, and even higher one when he sees the mess all over Ronan's shirt. Their mess. Even if it's gone by morning, Ronan won't forget. ]

Funny, that's what you said before our hands were all over each other. The doors right the fuck there, no one's fucking stopping you.

[He moves his fingers down toward his palm in a wave, as mocking as possible]

Bye, bitch.

[corve]

[ It's amazing how someone as scrawny as Kavinsky -- with his cokehead build and his barely average height -- can make Ronan feel a thousand times smaller than he is and it's even more amazing just how much in infuriates Ronan. His blood running hot for an entirely different reason now and as much as he wants to reach over and beat Kavinsky's face in until he can't recognize him, he's not going to give the boy the satisfaction of hanging around any longer.

If this is the game that Kavinsky wants to play, Ronan will go right along with it. He's never been one to turn down a challenge, and even less has he ever turned down one from Kavinsky. (Ronan hates admitting it, even to himself, but Kavinsky's right, they really were made for one another. One in the same. Two halves of the same whole. Two dreamers and everyone else in the world merely slept.)

Ronan turns on his heels rather than replying, all but storming across the room to the front door and slamming it behind him as he leaves. He doesn't make it more than a short distance away before he leaned over emptying the contents of his stomach into the sand. ]