burnyoudown | Open RP Post

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Open RP Post

🔥 Hit me up on plurk or via PM if you have any questions/want to run an idea by me first/what-have-you.
🔥 General squick/trigger list.
🔥 m/m for anything shippy.
🔥 General headcanon for Kavinsky. If you've got different headcanon/ideas for a psl, hit me with 'em; I'm flexible.
🔥 Kavinsky's kink list.
🔥 This is open to everyone who wants to thread with me!

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[Ronan had always cared, it had just been a complicated thing for him to feel, for him to be able to face up to. And having to live with Kavinsky's death was... it carved just how much Ronan had needed him into his heart every day. He leans into him, holding him tight, just breathing in the feel of him, of having his body against him, knowing that he was here and he was real. In all the ways that mattered, at least.

He closes his eyes, leaning into the comfort just from hearing Kavinsky say that he wasn't going anywhere except with him. But then there's that question, and Ronan sighs, letting his hand against his face shift so that he can rub circles against his back, an attempt at wordless comfort as he tries to figure out how to answer the question.]

No, it wasn't your fault.

[Ronan takes a breath, and tries his best to explain things, to put it into words. It's never been his strong suit, but if anyone does, Kavinsky at least deserves the attempt.]

I was a mess and I was still figuring out that I could have the things I wanted and it didn't make me a terrible person. I'd never kissed a boy before, but I wanted to. And I was scared and self-centered and the only way I knew how to handle how I felt was by lashing out at the people I cared about. I pushed you away and then thought that things would go back to how they were before, and never stopped to ask if I'd hurt you.

[He sighs, holding him close, like he could protect Kavinsky, even from himself. Or at least like he wanted to, wanted to give him something better than the mess everything had ended up in before. He wanted to give him a life, give him all the good things that he thought he deserved.]

Yeah, you didn't handle it well. But if I'd listened to you, just once, talked to you-- I dunno. I feel like things wouldn't have gotten so out of hand.

[Kavinsky took a deep, slightly unsteady breath. He held it for a moment as Ronan said it wasn't his fault. He knew Ronan didn't say things just to be nice, so hearing that he truly believed it wasn't Kavinsky's fault was an honest relief. It unwound some of the tension from his chest.]

I would've helped. [Half-mumbled, the loudest he could manage to speak right now.] I wanted to help.

[He'd wanted to coax Ronan out of his shell, to show him the world and teach him that he could have whatever he wanted. Things hadn't worked out like that. He'd never gotten a chance. Ronan had pushed him away and then Kavinsky had broke. It had been the last thing he'd been able to handle, the last burden he could shoulder before it all became too much.

He huffed out a laugh when Ronan said he hadn't handled it well.]

Yeah, no kidding. For what it's worth though, I'm sorry. I think I helped push you away sometimes. I didn't mean to, but- I just wanted you so much. I'd waited so long, and I'd thought you'd understand.

[That he'd just wanted a chance. And it hadn't been like he would've tried to stop Ronan from going back to Gansey; he'd just wanted to loosen that leash, show Ronan that Gansey's opinion of him wasn't the only opinion that mattered. He'd wanted Ronan to come back.]

You gonna prove that claim, Sweetheart?

[But Jiang seems more amused than anything else as he brandishes the ruler that he'd found somewhere in Kavinsky's house. Maybe it said something about just how often he was over than he'd actually been able to find such a thing. It was just the two of them, for the moment- the party was still going strong around them, but they were in K's bedroom, Skov and Swan and Proko having wandered off to find other distractions.

Jiang was pleasantly drunk and pleasantly high, and somehow the subject of dicks had come up, namely the subject of who had the biggest dicks at Aglionby. Which had started off as a subject for gentle ribbing and idle speculation (and not so speculative, when it came to Swan, as Skov was rather forthright on the subject -- at least with his friends). Jiang was flopped on his bed, his shirt pushed up to reveal more skin than he normally showed off voluntarily, but when he was with K he wasn't as self-conscious as he usually was. There were stolen kisses, eagerly given kisses, and it had been nice.

But Kavinsky had quoted a number for his own dick, and Jiang had arched an eyebrow and called bullshit, with a look that was disbelief mired with interest. And quickly that accusation turned into Kavinsky with a grin as he offered to prove it. And now here Jiang was with a ruler and his heart racing with the idea of measuring Kavinsky's dick. He probably would have lost his nerve if not for the other night, if not for the fact that Kavinsky had kissed him, acted like he wanted to keep kissing him that night and every other night, enough that it felt like something real. Like Jiang was special, not just another boy with a crush on the most gorgeous boy at school.

But--

He also hadn't had his hand down Kavinsky's pants yet. They hadn't gotten further than kisses and some groping through clothes. In part due to accidental interruptions, but also... Kavinsky was sweet with him. Sweeter than Jiang would have expected. And he liked it, most of the time. But Jiang also wanted him and he didn't know how to tell him that he wouldn't break if he pushed a little without making Kavinsky feel bad about it.

Maybe it was why he'd pushed tonight. To give Kavinsky an excuse, to find a way to make it clear that he wanted it all in a way that wasn't as garish as I want you to fuck me. But then, maybe Jiang just needed to learn to be a little bit more garish with the things he wanted.]

look i know i was a dick

but ill be at the 4th
if you still want me there
ok?

[It was the note on the Mitsubishi that Kavinsky had left parked out by Monmouth that had finally made something lurch in Ronan's chest. A feeling like he might lose him if he didn't reach out, didn't try and-- he didn't even know what he was doing, trying to say here:

I didn't mean to use you, maybe. Something to make the guilt that twisted like venom in his stomach burn a little bit less.]

I know. I should have let you.

[Like all things, it was easier to understand in hindsight, to see all the things he'd gotten wrong. And he really didn't see it as Kavinsky's fault, think that he'd done things wrong until the very end, and by then Ronan could understand why he'd reacted the way that he had: feeling like he was underwater, willing to do anything to get his attention. It didn't mean that he was okay with the fact that he'd tried to kidnap Matthew, exactly, but he understood that he'd had a role to play in how things got so far.

He draws his hand in slow circles against his back, trying to be soothing, reassuring, trying to let Kavinsky know that he's here, and that Ronan's here for him.]

I wanted you, you know. I dreamt about you sometimes. About what it would be like if you touched me. If we kissed. If we- did other stuff. But I was still all in my head about what it meant to be a dreamer. I thought it meant having to make up for what I was. And the idea of liking boys was-- I dunno. Made it worse.

[I hated myself, is what he doesn't say outloud, but thinks that Kavinsky will understand it anyway. About what the weight had been like, how heavy it was to carry those feelings.]

So you weren't wrong, K. It was just overwhelming. And the idea of wanting you and you wanting me back fucking terrified me because I wanted it so much. I thought that I could just... push you away and that things would go back to how they were before. That they wouldn't have to change. That I wouldn't have to change.

[He laughs a little, but it's not mocking, just rueful and a little bit sad. It feels almost tragic because of the fact that he'd basically broken his own heart. No wonder things hadn't worked out with Adam -- he'd handed him his broken heart like it was a car he could fix. And Parrish deserved so much better than that.]

I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, not for real.

[It was too late for what they should have done. But they had another chance now. They could make up for their past mistakes, make everything right and just- embrace the chances they had.

His breath stuck in his chest for a moment when Ronan said he'd dreamed about him. Same, honestly. He'd had so many dreams about the other boy. It didn't escape his notice that Ronan said 'other stuff' instead of 'sex', and Kavinsky found it ridiculously endearing. But- if Ronan hadn't even kissed a boy before, did that mean he was a virgin too? Or had that changed? Surprisingly, Kavinsky didn't feel like asking right now.]

Don't. There's nothing wrong with you just because you're a dreamer. There's nothing wrong with you because you're gay. We're not what's 'normal' but that doesn't make us wrong.

[Really, who decided what was and wasn't normal? Regular straight people? Fuck 'em. Being the majority didn't make them right. He hated that they could make people like him and Ronan feel like there was something wrong with them. But he understood how Ronan felt. God, did he understand. He swung wildly between feeling like a freak and feeling like a god. Ronan's rejection before had made him feel sure he was a freak. But things were different now.]

We can take things slow for now, if you want. But I really want to kiss you.

[And he knew that didn't necessarily go hand in hand with taking things slow. He wasn't good at that; never had been.]

[Kavinsky debated a couple of different replies to the text before finally settling on-]

ofc i still want you there
even if youre a dick
i dont give cars to just everyone

okay
I just
okay

[There's a pause, and then he adds:]

what i said before isnt true
i was just being an asshole

[He's trying to be communicative. Trying to resist the urge to throw his phone at the fucking wall because of the way that it feels vulnerable and uncomfortable and his heart races in his chest. It's too easy to imagine K saying fuck you, or that it was too late to take it back.]

which part?
enlighten me

[He probably knew which part Ronan meant already, but he wanted to see it in text. If Ronan would humor him.]

[It takes a moment, because this isn't easy for Ronan, but then there's the little bubbles indicating that he's typing. Which means that he's trying at least. It feels like stripping himself bare and waiting until after to see if K is going to strangle him with his own vulnerability. But he also feels a little bit like he deserves it.]

the part where i said it was never you and me
the part where i acted like it was ridiculous that you might think it could be
the part where i treated you like you were stupid for wanting it
just
fucking all of it

[There's a pause, this one long enough that Kavinsky's started typing back, but then Ronan adds:]

i like you

[He manages to repress the urge to throw it across the room, but he does shove it under his pillow and then shove his face into the pillow until he hears it ping. He just- he can't cope with the tension, with the ache, with knowing he doesn't deserve kindness.]

[Fuck, but Kavinsky was tempted to wholly agree that Ronan had been an asshole. He wouldn't admit how much it'd hurt, because that was its own brand of vulnerability, but- it did something to see Ronan admit it hadn't been true.

Kavinsky was in the middle of typing back when the next message came in. He froze. Then deleted everything he'd written and started over.]

god youre fucking lucky im in a forgiving mood
i like you too, obviously
i thought you didnt want to connect with another dreamer
i thought you didnt want ME
its more than us being dreamers
id like you anyway

[He wanted to sink his claws into Ronan and--not rip him to pieces, not ruin him, just...hold on. After a pause, he added-]

i want to be your boyfriend

god i wanted to fucking kiss you okay?
and so i freaked and took it out on you
because im an asshole

that shit i said wasnt even aimed at you
i was trying to convince myself and it didnt fucking work
obviously

it wasnt fast or anonymous
it meant something-- it meant something that it was *you*

[He reads that last part that Kavinsky sends over and over, at least five times, just to convince himself that it's real. And then against his better instincts, he calls Kavinsky. His voice is shaky even when he's just breathing, clearly affected when he speaks almost all in a rush:]

Say it again. That last part. I wanna-- I need to hear you say it.

[God. Fuck. This wasn't how Kavinsky would have expected a conversation with Ronan to go, not after he'd ditched him in the dream field. He was in the middle of typing a reply, again, when his phone started ringing instead. He picked up. Of course, he picked up.

The sound of Ronan's voice did things to him, when he was so clearly affected. It sent a little shiver up Kavinsky's spine, tingled across the back of his neck.]

I want to be your boyfriend. I want to hold your hand [He knew that was cheesy, but he couldn't help it.] and kiss you and just- I want you.

[His tone sounded like he half expected Ronan to laugh at him. He was a touch guarded, but no less honest.]

I know that now. But that summer I was still figuring it out, and I took it out on you. You're not wrong either. I mean.. a lot of the shit you said was right, I just hadn't figured it out yet.

[He'd rather come around to K's way of thinking on that point, at least: fuck them. He wanted a world that was made for dreamers and dreams, a world where places like Cabeswater and Lindenmere were treasures instead of dirty secrets, where Matthew and Kavinsky and Prokopenko could just fucking live. That summer he hadn't known what he wanted. And maybe he doesn't now either, but he has a better grasp on it, at least.

He knows how big his dreams are, and how small the world feels for them.

But then Kavinsky says I really want to kiss you in the same breath that he says that they can take things slow, and Ronan burns, his face flushing a little. And he's maybe for the first time, a little bit glad that he and Adam broke up. Both because he wasn't good for him, and Adam Parrish deserves someone that will love him like a forestfire, like he put the stars in the sky. But also because he doesn't have to feel guilty for how much he still wants to kiss Kavinsky.

He smiles at him, letting his hands slide down his body so that he can curl his hands against his hips, holding on but also- the way he'd been soothing is shifting into something that's more clearly want and desire.]

What if I don't want to take it slow?

[Because god, fuck, but it felt like it had been so long already, like he'd been waiting, aching for Kavinsky to kiss him since junior year, since that first race or that first party, or the first time he'd been who he ran to on a bad night when he felt like he was crawling out of his skin.]

I really want you to kiss me.

I've never dated anyone before. I've never even kissed another boy. Or fucking-- anyone. But I think... I wanna try. If it's you.

[Part of Ronan is actually glad that they're doing this over the phone, because it means that Kavinsky can't see him blushing like the awkward mess that he is. Because god, but he wants to kiss Kavinsky, and it makes his heart skip in his chest that after all of this the other boy still wants to give him a chance, still wants him and wants to be his boyfriend, when all Ronan's done up to now is try to push him away, keep him at arms' length.

It seemed almost ludicrous that there was someone reckless enough to want to date Ronan Lynch of all people. But here he was, just-- wanting him anyway.]

I'd like that. All of it. I wanna... I wanna kiss you, and I wanna hold your hand and all that stupid shit.

[Ronan calls it stupid shit, but at the same time his tone says that he doesn't think that it's stupid at all. It's all heat and longing, an ache he doesn't quite know how to say.]

[If it's you. That made him feel warm and special. Which really was saying something after how Ronan had made him feel before, ditching him in the dream field like he had. But he'd apologized and Kavinsky had forgiven him.

Fuck, but they were both hopeless losers deep down, weren't they? Ronan, who'd somehow never dated anyone or even kissed someone, and who wanted to hold hands with K. Kavinsky, who'd also...never really dated anyone before, but at least he'd kissed guys, had sex. He also wanted to hold Ronan's hand and walk him to class (when classes were back) and all of that ridiculous, mushy stuff.

And yet Kavinsky found the whole situation endearing. He didn't care if he was a loser, and he wasn't sure he thought Ronan was one, either.]

Then I'm yours. Are you at Monmouth? Is Gansey there? I could bring pizza over if he's not.

[He knew he had some party preparation to do, a few stray details to iron out, but he could do that later. Everything wouldn't implode if he delayed things for a little while.]

Or we could go to Nino's or just- whatever, you know?

How about Nino's? Gansey isn't here right now, but you know that if I invite you over he'll walk in the first time I get to kiss you or something, and fuck that.

[There's a slight pause, and when Ronan speaks again you can almost hear the smile in his voice.]

But, if you want to.. you can come pick me up. You know, if it's a date.

[It was a stupid detail, especially since there was a white Mitsubishi sitting in Monmouth's parking lot already. But it seemed-- he didn't know. Different. More intimate, somehow. Like that first drive after he'd wrecked the Camaro, except where Ronan was no longer fighting his feelings, fighting himself. Whether he loved it or hated it was no longer a question. It was just truth, just the erratic beat of his heart against his ribs, just Ronan offering to put himself in Kavinsky's hands for a while, with affection rather than venom.]

I'd like that.

[Another time, another place, and he would've made a comment about how he was always right or something. But he didn't feel like being smug right now. He just wanted to hold onto Ronan and never let him go. Also, he was just glad Ronan had come to the realization finally, even if it'd taken some time. It was better late than never, as the saying went. He was proud of Ronan for figuring it out.

And he also wanted him desperately.

Huffing out a soft laugh, he reached up to scrub the tears from his lashes.]

Have you ever done anything in your life slowly?

[Racing, he was referring to racing, specifically. And all the time they'd spent in the dream field that summer, dreaming as much as they could, speed running Ronan's dream skills. The truth was, Kavinsky didn't do things slowly, either. It wasn't his style. He was all or nothing.

Leaning up, he curled his fingers around the back of Ronan's neck and kissed him, softly at first but steadily with more confidence. Not that he'd been shy at first, but- he didn't want to push Ronan too much too quickly. He'd learned the hard way how bad that could be.]

[He let Kavinsky push away the tears that wet his lashes, but then softly, sweetly, brushed his fingertips against his eyelids, like he could keep him from tears ever again. Ronan didn't really think that he was capable of it... but god, he wanted to be. He'd never really managed to be that for someone: the thing that chased away the bad dreams. But if Kavinsky was his dream, and for all that Ronan hadn't meant to ask for him, he was probably still the most intentional of his dreams like this. He couldn't help feeling responsible for him, as much as he'd wanted him before, it still made him feel-- protective, in a way that he hadn't before.

But he laughs softly at the question, grinning.]

Never.

[It was maybe not the literal truth, but it was the truth of his heart. He never wanted to take things slowly, not if he could avoid it. Especially not this, not with Kavinsky, whose heart had always raced as fast as Ronan's. All or nothing was a language they both spoke; it was why the idea of wanting him had been so fraught. Because Ronan didn't do anything by half measures- he couldn't just have a little bit of a crush on Kavinsky or something. If he cared he gave all of himself, and back then he'd been dumb and oblivious and scared.

Ronan curled one hand in Kavinsky's shirt, and he kissed him hard; eager and desperate, with a simmering hunger, a desire that he couldn't hide in how he touched him. He doesn't want to take it slow. He will if Kavinsky wants to, of course, but Ronan- he aches for him, for this. He's had so much want and so many dreams and nowhere to put them until Lindenmere had taken them and spun them into something as real as he was. His other hand slid down Kavinsky's body, curling low against his waist.

He wasn't quite groping his ass, but it was clear that the temptation was there. Instead he just moaned softly against Kavinsky's mouth, his blue eyes damp and so he closed them tight, just feeling this, clinging to him like he needed him more than he could say in words.]

[Jiang was sweet. Kavinsky would punch the first (and second, and third) person who said otherwise. He could kiss Jiang all day, just cuddled up in his arms--it didn't have to be about sex. But K's mind was very definitely on the subject of sex right now. How could he have not been thinking it when he was a few minutes away from letting Jiang measure his dick? That was, if he could tear his gaze away from the bared expanse of skin the other boy was showing off at the moment.

Licking his lips, Kavinsky finally blinked, then blinked again, pupils blown wide as he met Jiang's eyes and smiled. He climbed onto the bed with him, straddling his thighs, and braced himself on his hands so he could lean down and kiss him, soft and sweet. He was hard in his jeans, which would doubtlessly help with his claim--if he could now stop kissing Jiang long enough to get his pants open. There were so many distractions at hand and they all started with J.]

I think you'll be pleasantly surprised.

[It was murmured between kisses as he dropped lower, leaning on an elbow so he could comb his fingers through Jiang's dark hair for the sake of touching him. Sometimes, Kavinsky wished he had more hands so he could occupy all of them with the beautiful boy on his bed.]

[He could've made a joke about Gansey. He really could have. Something about not being afraid to punch Dick in the dick. But he held off, if only because Ronan said if it's a date. The idea made him feel lightweight, almost like he was floating for a moment. As if he hadn't literally just asked Ronan out and the other boy hadn't just agreed.

But also, he liked the idea of making out in his car more than he did kissing in Monmouth, though...he would've liked to be able to come over without worrying about Gansey. He'd like to be alone in Ronan's room with him. He knew full well where Ronan lived, but he'd never actually been inside Monmouth.]

Yeah, okay. It can be our first date.

[Kavinsky's first proper date, maybe even.]

We could- fuck, I dunno. Go for a drive after or go to my place. If you wanted.

[He knew his place wasn't exactly ideal either since he lived with his mother, but she was easier to dodge than Gansey.]

[Ronan's gesture was so gentle, his touch so soft, that a sob heaved in Kavinsky's chest for a moment. Swallowing it down, he smiled when Ronan grinned, and then they were kissing. Kavinsky felt lightheaded and weightless for a few heartbeats.

Then, he pressed closer, pushing himself flush against Ronan, kissing him like his life depended on it. Maybe his life had, once upon a time, but this was different. Things were- they were going to be better now. He was going to be better now. He had his whole life ahead of him--again--and he didn't want to waste this opportunity. He just- he wanted Ronan, so badly.

Someone probably would've expected Kavinsky to be the one to initiate ass groping, but surprisingly, he was keeping his hands above the waist on Ronan's back. It wasn't because he didn't want him, because fuck did he ache for Ronan, but- he was trying to be- something. He couldn't put it into words. Luckily, no one was asking him to.

He wanted this, he wanted Ronan, he wanted- he wanted to see Prokopenko. He wanted to see his boys. He didn't know how he was going to begin to explain things to them, but he wanted to believe they would welcome him back.

And yet he couldn't pull away from Ronan.]

I wanna.. I wanna keep you safe. I know it's stupid, but-- you're mine.

[He means what he says; every word, even the last part, the tone of his voice helplessly possessive. Normally he wouldn't have said it outloud, though. But this was different; he'd already lost so much, so much time, so much that he hadn't said, so many feelings that had festered under his ribs like an infection he thought he'd never be able to get out. But Kavinsky was here, in his arms, under his hands, his mouth hot and sweet and God he needed him, he wanted him, he didn't think he'd be able to breathe if he lost him again. Like Kavinsky had dreamt him back to life as much as the reverse.

He held Kavinsky against him, and this time Ronan is the one that almost sobs. But instead he just kisses him again, more, desperate, hot and needy and like this is everything that he thought that he could never have again. He wants to prove to him how wrong he was back in the dreamfield, not just about Kavinsky, but about himself. Ronan couldn't help himself, not because he was touchstarved-- which he sort of is. But because he wants Kavinsky in his skin, wants to breathe in the certainty that he's here and he's staying and that Ronan gets to keep him.

When he breaks the kiss again, he can't help stealing another in between words, like he needs to touch him again every few breaths.]

I don't wanna let go of you. But I know-- I should take you to see Proko. But then I can take you back home with me. And we can just... spend the night with me K, please?

[He was Ronan's in every sense of it. Ronan might not have personally laid down to sleep with the intention of bringing Kavinsky back, but he'd clearly wanted it and his forest had obliged. Kavinsky was his; he couldn't imagine being anyone else's.]

I want to see him. [Murmured between kisses, gentle but firm.] I have to know he's okay.

[It'd eat him alive if he didn't make sure Proko was okay now. He was his best friend; he couldn't just not see him or trust that he was alright.]

And then we can go home--to your home. And I'll stay.

[Of course, he would stay. He couldn't imagine where else he would go. He needed to be with Ronan right now. Needed the other dreamer like he needed to breathe. And- he wanted to keep him safe just as much as Ronan wanted to keep him safe. Together, they could be untouchable.]

[Elijah had never been good at this part. He tucked his tail and ran, pushed people away, had never known how to let his walls down without feeling vulnerable and exposed, which just made him lash out. But it was-- he didn't know. He'd already exposed himself, already given away all of his secrets, from the fact that he wanted him to what he was, the fact that he was a boy made of dreams. And Elijah had always jumped into anything worth doing without hesitation. He got along with Kavinsky and the dreampack because they were all boys that believed that life began above the speed limit.

He'd saved his life, kissed him where anyone could see, desperate and miserably scared. What words could be more vulnerable than that?

Kavinsky kisses him, gentle and sweet, and Elijah leans into it. Tender and loving, affectionate in a way he didn't often allow himself to show. He was sharp as a sword, but he had a beating heart. He was just always afraid to show it, because he knew what the world was like, because it was hard to let his walls down enough to show someone that he could be soft, too.

But he wants to. He's trying. He's curling his fingers at the back of Kavinsky's neck, pulling him in close, a low hum of something like contentment that he breathes into the kiss, into the moment, into the dream. He isn't a dreamer, but he can still walk in them, dreams can still take the things he wears on his skin- like love-love-love-- as true as his heartbeat.]

I love you too. I'll keep you safe from your nightmares. You don't-- you don't have to be alone.

[He flushes a little, unsure if he's more embarrassed from saying it or because of how much he means it.]

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Page 15 of 18

Open RP Post

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ahem

just a small thing :3

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Screeee

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