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[ Maybe somewhere deep down Ronan is a masochist, and maybe that's why he keeps allowing Kavinsky to torture him like this. He could have very well ignored the boy for all the rest of eternity, he could have just not taken the bait that Kavinsky continued to give him, but that just wouldn't have been Ronan Lynch. Maybe everyone else in the world could dismiss Kavinsky, but he couldn't. He'd never been able to for much longer than a few days back in Henrietta and now that the boy had made a grand reappearance in Ronan's life, he's finding it impossible to do so again.

Then again no one was connected to Kavinsky in the same way that Ronan is. The only two dreamers out there -- as far as he knows -- the only connection that ran deeper was the one that he had with Adam. A mixture of such deep love and devotion, combined with the magic of Cabeswater flowing through the boy.

Two entirely different connections, both just as consuming. ]

Your hand was on my dick, that's not exactly something I had control over. [ He refuses to acknowledge the fact that he was holding tight to Kavinsky, battling with how much he both wanted to pull the boy closer and indulge in all those things he wanted so long ago, and also push him away because he knows how too late it is now to try and do so. ]

I didn't tell him shit.

[ Except for urging him to continue speaking vile and vulgar things, muttering out choked words that he'd never dare repeat to Kavinsky himself, and giving explicit instructions on how to touch himself. But otherwise, yeah, he didn't tell him shit.

And while it was definitely close. It wasn't the same. And in a typical Ronan Lynch fashion, he ignores the question rather than confirming. ]

You wish you fucking knew what that felt like.

[ Why isn't he moving? Why won't his feet carry him out of the room? Why is he frozen on the spot, his eyes alight with intoxication, repressed desire, and rage? His breath catches in his throat as that soft moan echoes out of Kavinsky, his eyes darting to the boy's hand in his pants before returning to his face, and he can feel his own burning hot from the very base of his neck all the way to the tips of his ears. ]

[ This will always be how the two of them operate and maybe that's why Kavinsky never made it. Ronan wouldn't allow this fire to burn bright, so Kavinsky snuffed it all out. Maybe now, though, Ronan's no longer able to dismiss it all, because there's so much more to it than seventeen year old Ronan could ever imagine. But now, things are different. Now, maybe Ronan knows more and he's still here, unmoving from his spot against the wall.

Kavinsky would argue that their connection runs even deeper than the one he has with Adam. They have that magic, they have their dreaming and if they let it? They could have so much more than that. Kavinsky would devote his life and death to this boy.]

Do you even hear yourself? My hand was on your dick and you couldn't control it? [He laughs, letting his head fall back, his Adam's apple bouncing under his skin] The lady doth protest too much, dickshit.

[And still, Ronan is here. Still, he's watching him while pretending not to. Kavinsky was there. He knows what's in Ronan's head, even if he wants to deny what happened the other night, and those nights five years ago. Nothing will ever be the same as the two of them together.]

Why don't you come fucking show me, princess?

[He pushes his pants down off his hips and pulls his dick out, another obscene moan escaping as he strokes himself, his gaze locking with Ronan's again]

Those swollen pink lips of yours wrapped around my dick, tasting me. You've thought about it, haven't you. My hands dragging down your head, pushing in deeper, telling you just how damn good you are.

What's it fucking matter if there's no one to tell here? If no one gives a shit? Who are you hiding from?

[ Ronan doesn't realize just how stupid his logic sounds until it's repeated back to him -- he wasn't completely without control that night. Kavinsky weighs about as much as a small child, and Ronan has a good amount of height on him, so why hadn't he used all that weight and height to his advantage? Why had he just sat there and let Kavinsky jerk him off and bring him to orgasm?

He knows that he isn't completely innocent in the situation, he knows he's just as guilty as Kavinsky (and, to be truthful, he feels even more so. Thanks for that, Catholicism.) and while he can admit that over and over to himself, it's impossible to utter those words out loud.

He punishes himself for his sins in private, and maybe that's what all of this is. Some sick form of punishment for wanting Kavinsky. For allowing Kavinsky to touch him. For letting his hands touch the boy at all, even non-sexually. For coming harder than he had before. For replaying it over and over in his head. Ronan had more reasons why he deserved to be punished than he had time to actually list them all. ]

Fuck no.

[ Which acts as the answer to the invitation Kavinsky gives him -- because he would sure as hell be lying if he said he'd never thought about it. A teenage boy that he was had very little control over the wet dreams that haunted him at night. -- and for as much as he wants to fight it, his eyes immediately drop to where Kavinsky wraps his fingers around his cock, stroking himself slowly. He hadn't exactly looked at Kavinsky that night, but now he's got a full show of it all and, despite how much he hates the little control he has, he's drinking it all in. Licking his lips as his throat suddenly dries up. ]

Don't fucking worry about it.

[ Which is a slightly different tune than he'd been singing a short time ago. He's hiding from Adam and that thought alone makes nausea mix with arousal in a way that's unsettling -- and thankfully helps keep him from getting fully hard right there. When had he started this? Lying by omission was still lying and he'd been doing a shitload of that lately. ]

I just don't fucking want to.

[ Kavinsky knows that Ronan could have moved him that night, any night. He's experienced it first hand when he's been shoved around or punched in the face. The fact that Ronan is acting like he was completely out of control just proves that he wanted to be there that night. He wanted to be under Kavinsky's weight, getting jerked off by him.

Ronan doesn't have to say it out loud, Kavinsky already knows and with each and every protest, that knowledge gets stronger. Even if Ronan acts like he doesn't want to come over here, like he doesn't want to run his tongue up along Kavinsky's dick. Kavinsky knows. ]

Uh huh. Sure.

[he purs out, putting on a damn good show for Ronan when the other boys gaze slides down to his cock. He does exactly what he did to Ronan the other night, giving him a nice full view of his erection as he strokes himself. Hey, he's getting off on this too, watching Ronan watching him. He's pretty sure he can start to hear Ronan's breathing getting ragged, just like it did the other night. ]

Oh, I'm not worried. Nothing about this worries me. Fuck, Lynch. I'm just wondering what you tell that guy to call you. Is it Lynch? Ronan? Sweetheart? Princess?

[Ronan's protests are getting old, even if Kavinsky's having a damn good time teasing him]

You want to. You've always wanted to. This is the Quagmire, sweetheart. No one else ever has to know.

[ Every single sound that Kavinsky makes sends a shock through Ronan, his hips shifting against the wall in an attempt to relieve the pressure that he feels building in the front of his jeans. For as much as he hates Kavinsky, he can't fight the way that his body reacts to the boy: the way that he looks, the way that he sounds, that brief flavor that Ronan had tasted in the short seconds that their lips had met. Some carnal part of him wants it, almost feels like he needs it, like of the very few things in this world that he actually craves, this one is the strongest in the moment.

And fuck, if that doesn't terrify him. He's nothing more than a male, after all, and a slave to his sex drive. He knows better than to think his resolve can win out in the battle against lust. (It wasn't considered one of the deadly sins for no reason, and when attached to someone like Kavinsky it felt like the deadliest of all.)

Kavinsky hits the nail right on the head and a brief wave of sickness goes through him. He'd told the mirror image of the boy in front of him to call him all of those things -- and he so obediently followed along, which ruined the fantasy but helped Ronan's denial that he was even fantasizing about Kavinsky in the first place.

Ronan gives the truth to the people he cares about and saves all his lies for himself. ]

Bullshit. Like you'd keep any of that shit to yourself. You'd run right to him and give up every fucking detail.

[ And Ronan feels as though it's the biggest form of betrayal to even allude to Adam in the moment. The object of his worship, the center of his universe, the thing that Ronan loves so much it feels like it's physically crushing him sometimes. And here he is, daring to even speak of him while Kavinsky's only a short distance away, his hand on his dick and Ronan's desire raging on inside of him, leaving his words breathless as his heart pounds away in his chest and even louder in his ears. ]

[ Kavinsky has spent enough time watching Ronan where he knows what those small shifts could mean and he can see the strain on both Ronan's face and in his pants. Ronan never got the full scope of how much Kavinsky was into him back then. He didn't want to see it, Kavinsky could tell, even if he had been hoping that things would be different for the two of them.

Maybe Ronan craves him enough to see it now.

What he doesn't get though, is why Ronan is resisting so much. It really doesn't matter here. It's just the two of them and even if Ronan is filled with all that Catholic guilt over sucking dick, or whatever the fuck, none of that counts anymore. Ronan is fighting this too damn hard and Kavinsky is still trying to figure out why.

He's getting really into Ronan watching him jerk off though and he has a feeling that a little more time, and Ronan's hand might be sliding down the front of his pants as well. He wants to see just how far this no touching rule will go with the real thing, especially after Ronan broke that rule the other night.

It's the way Ronan says him that catches his attention and his hand slows, eyes narrowing just the slightest. Him. The first person Kavinsky thinks of is Gansey and he wants to call on a fire dragon to kill him all over again. But he doesn't let it show. Still, he has to ask. He can't help himself. ]

Him who?

[ Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Ronan's done a laundry list of stupid things in his life, but this had to be the stupidest one. Why would he just assume Kavinsky knew about Adam? Adam had hardly been a blip on the other's radar back in Henrietta, nothing more than "the trailer park boy that hung around with Dick Three and company.". Kavinsky's focus had always been on Gansey, this insane notion that Ronan and Gansey were so much more than just a pair of close friends, almost brothers. Maybe Ronan might have wanted that at one point in time, but he's feelings had long since shifted from an unrequited desire to the strictly platonic and nearly familial.

But, as Ronan's mouth has always seemed to do, here it is getting him into shit once again. He's nowhere near as talkative as Kavinsky, but he has the same problem when it comes to not being able to keep his mouth shut sometimes -- an instigator and a fighter right down to the core, even if it means shooting himself in the foot.

Ronan's eyes dart back up to meet Kavinsky's narrowed gaze and while the reaction is slight, he knows he's hit a nerve. Kavinsky can say he doesn't care about Ronan, that he doesn't give a shit, that he's completely over whatever they once had (or didn't have.) but the way that he reacts tells an entirely different story. He can almost see the jealousy beginning to creep in, anger starting to form where there had been nothing but arrogant triumph and dark desire.

A very brief turning of the tables. ]

Adam.

[ One word that leaves Ronan in a tone barely louder than a whisper, guilt and shame crushing him as though with just saying his lover's name, he would appear right there with them -- and thank fucking Christ he doesn't. Adam's name doesn't belong here, it doesn't belong on Ronan's lips when he's standing there staring at Kavinsky and battling some long buried desire inside of himself. Adam's name doesn't even belong on his mind when the thought of Kavinsky occupies some of that space as well.

Ronan feels completely unworthy of even thinking of the boy currently, much less calling him his own. ]

[ Kavinsky's notion that Ronan was stuck on someone else wasn't all that sane, he just never had any idea about the other boy. Even as Ronan says that name, Adam, Kavinsky has absolutely no idea who he's talking about. He has no idea, but he hates Adam all the same. He wants to find this boy and strangle the life out of him, over and over again.

The way Ronan says Adam's name, though, it's like he's ashamed. Ronan should be, if he's in back rooms jerking off to Kavinsky, or sitting on Kavinsky's couch with him in his lap. ]

This Adam must be a real fucking winner.

[Kavinsky laughs, the edges laced with venom. ]

So he doesn't know about your extracurriculars, then. Doesn't know whose face you jerk off to every night. And I'm guessing... [Kavinsky starts, yanking his pants up a bit as he slides off the table and strides back over to Ronan, his hand moving to rest against the wall near Ronan's head] That he isn't dead, so he's fucking irrelevant and it's still just you and me, princess.

[ It's probably for the best that Kavinsky doesn't remember Adam, that he's nothing more than a minor footnote somewhere in the vast History of Ronan Lynch that Kavinsky's been writing all this time. Then again, at that time Adam had been on the very edges -- he was so caught up with Blue that Ronan hadn't thought they'd end up as anything more than friends the same way that he and Gansey were.

But, oh how things had changed quickly. How Ronan's feelings for Adam became deeper, filling in the cracks and spaces where there had been nothing, pushing the memories of Kavinsky away in favor of making entirely new ones with this boy who he didn't think he deserved. ]

Shut the fuck up.

[ Because Kavinsky doesn't get to say that name and it sounds as though it's coming straight from the lips of the devil himself as it leaves him. Ronan wants to rip the words out of the air, pull the sound of them out of his brain, and burn them up until they're out of existence completely. ]

I'm not jerking off to your fucking face every night. [ Which was the truth, usually the face resembled Adam's, it was only lately that he'd started straying from his routine. Kavinsky moves closer and Ronan's never felt more like trapped prey. He has a good amount of height on the boy, but Kavinsky's size doesn't seem to matter when his presence alone is so much more. So much larger than life. His cockiness filling the spaces in a way that shouldn't have been intimidating coming from someone like him -- and maybe it was only intimidating because of that wild glint in Kavinsky's eyes.

Insanity could intimidate anyone, he supposes. ]

How many fucking times do I have to tell you this? [ His voice is still ragged, desire still somewhere underneath everything else and their sudden closeness is pulling it to the surface. ] It's not going to be you and me. Even if he was never here.

[ Kavinsky didn't pay any attention to unimportant people back in Henrietta. He especially wouldn't pay attention to some plain looking trailer park trash when there were better to people to focus on, such as Ronan. Five years has been a long time and really, only Gansey remains at the tip of Kavinsky's tongue. He figured now that the object of what Ronan really desired was dead and buried, Ronan would shack up with Gansey for sure.

He smirks, tilting his head, watching every minute reaction on Ronan's face. He's good at this, he always has been, even if he attributes all his talents to his dreams.]

Adam. [He says again, the name sounding like a dirty word as it leaves his lips. ] Got a picture? Maybe I can jerk off to him instead, if he's good enough to occupy your head. Oh, every other night. My bad.

[Kavinsky's over this. Really fucking over it and he tucks himself back in, zipping up. His amusement has gone icy cold, his mischievous smirk turning into something more deadly]

But he is here, right? A visitor? That's good. I'd love to meet him, because you're right about one thing. I'm in control here and I have you by the balls. [He really does, as he reaches down between them and grabs Ronan's groin] And I'm going to tell him everything.

[ Kavinsky says it again and Ronan's not sure how he doesn't get sick right there. The two syllables cut through him like the sharpest knife, laced with poison and it's as though every memory of his boyfriend's name leaving his lips is replaced by Kavinsky's voice saying it. Making it sound as vulgar and as obscene as ever, as though it's a word that would burn like acid if anyone else tried to say it. A word that could make even the most foul-mouthed of sailors cringe.

And he hates it. Because if there were two words in all of the English language that Ronan thought were the polar opposite of that, they were Adam Parrish. ]

Fuck you!

[ He spits out, full of malice and just as much venom as Kavinsky's laugh had been dripping with only seconds ago. There's no point in answering Kavinsky's question, it's answered itself long ago. If Adam were there permanently, then he wouldn't have gone to Kavinsky's house in the first place, he wouldn't have found himself here right now and so many other nights before this. He wouldn't have needed it, Adam's more than enough to hold his attention when he's there with him.

It's when he isn't that he finds himself in situations like this.

Kavinsky grabs him -- quite literally by the balls -- and Ronan's entire body shudders, a choked sound ripping from his throat as his head drops forward. It's a combination of pain and pleasure, leaning more toward the former as it steals the breath right out of Ronan's lungs. ]

Tell him what, K? [ His voice wavers, but there's still something equally as dark and as deadly in Ronan's tone, like he's feeding off of the waves of it coming off of Kavinsky.] I wouldn't fuck you? That I told you to get the fuck off of me and you didn't? That you cornered me in some back room and I wouldn't suck your dick?

[ Kavinsky might have control, but that doesn't thwart Ronan's attempt to try and convince him otherwise. ]

[ Kavinsky has so much more on Ronan than he thinks he does, and he stores it all away for future use.. For as much of the things Kavinsky had always observed about Ronan that he had liked- racing, dreaming, leather bracelets, night horrors that needed to be shot in the head to save Ronan's life, none of that had even mattered in the end. Only the worst things counted, because there was never room in Ronan's head for him to be different. If that's all he has now, so be it. At least he won't be bored. ]

That's okay. I got a taste of you the other day and I can live without it. This has been the most fun, though. Well. This, and when I meet that poor, unlucky guy, now that I know to keep an eye out for him.

[It's funny that Ronan thinks the two of them wouldn't be orbiting each other either way. That if Adam was here, Kavinsky wouldn't be seeping right back into Ronan's head. Kavinsky knows better than that, especially after the past few nights. If Adam was more than enough to hold his attention when he's here, he'd be enough to hold Ronan's attention the other days he's not here either. More lies that Ronan tells himself. Kavinsky's surprised he's not drowning in them and he wonders why he'd do this to himself even in death. It seems so tiring. So boring]

Man, you're twisted. It's almost impressive that those are the versions of events in your head. No wonder you didn't end up in heaven. You're dripping with lies. I spent the whole time in this room laying on that slab, jerking myself off and you were cornered. Forced to watch. Just like you were forced to jerk off in my hand the other night. I thought we went over this already, dipshit. These are all of your choices. So you go right ahead and tell him that. [He gives Ronan's dick a good squeeze] You can tell him your version. I'll tell him the truth, right down to the exact look on your face when you come. The week after that, maybe I'll send my doppleganger over and you can both jerk off to him. Two for the price of one. Make sure he calls you princess. I especially like that one.

[He lets go and pats Ronan's cheek roughly, then moves away]

That was a good suggestion. Oh, Adam. You'll get every fucking detail. I'll be sure to tell him it was your idea to do so. See you in your dreams, princess.

[He laughs as he heads out the door]

Edited 2017-05-24 10:26 (UTC)

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