[Adam considers, a slight tilt of his head. His blue eyes slide over Kavinsky's face. He means it to be casual, but it's something a little bit more than that. A touch of intent, almost appreciation where his gaze catches on his jaw, the curl of his mouth.
Part of him almost wants to say okay, because Adam craves so badly to be wanted. But Adam is bad at letting himself have the things he wants. And he doesn't really know what the other boy sees in him. If this is a performance, or if he thinks Adam is just this needy-- even if he is, he doesn't much like the idea of someone being able to see it. Especially Kavinsky.
He steps in closer, sits against the edge of the coffee table, most of his weight in his legs so he can lean into his space. He closes the distance with intention, so it makes the air tense, so the music dims as he watches K and his blown pupils, the way his pulse races in his throat.
Adam was not the saint Gansey liked to pretend he was, that teachers saw him as. But then Gansey was a teacher for lessons he had yet to catch. And Adam had known he liked both boys and girls for basically as long as he'd known he wanted to kiss someone. But this was rural-nowhere fucking Henrietta, Virginia. So he didn't say it too loud. But he doesn't flinch like this says something about himself, like it's a crisis he needs to work through.
It just is. K's hitting on him, and Adam doesn't want him to stop. He doesn't trust him enough to be sure it's not just to get a rise out of the trailer trash kid, not just for the punchline. So he flirts back, but it's all sharp edges. Kavinsky isn't someone like Declan or one of the other boys- someone charming enough to sell can you believe he thought I was serious?- and that makes it a little bit safer.]
Or maybe I'll just take your car and drive myself. You can just buy another, right?
[There's something to how he says it- like buy was something else, only switched in at the last moment. The very idea of the words are daring in the worst way. What if someone saw, what if he didn't want to give it back?]
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Part of him almost wants to say okay, because Adam craves so badly to be wanted. But Adam is bad at letting himself have the things he wants. And he doesn't really know what the other boy sees in him. If this is a performance, or if he thinks Adam is just this needy-- even if he is, he doesn't much like the idea of someone being able to see it. Especially Kavinsky.
He steps in closer, sits against the edge of the coffee table, most of his weight in his legs so he can lean into his space. He closes the distance with intention, so it makes the air tense, so the music dims as he watches K and his blown pupils, the way his pulse races in his throat.
Adam was not the saint Gansey liked to pretend he was, that teachers saw him as. But then Gansey was a teacher for lessons he had yet to catch. And Adam had known he liked both boys and girls for basically as long as he'd known he wanted to kiss someone. But this was rural-nowhere fucking Henrietta, Virginia. So he didn't say it too loud. But he doesn't flinch like this says something about himself, like it's a crisis he needs to work through.
It just is. K's hitting on him, and Adam doesn't want him to stop. He doesn't trust him enough to be sure it's not just to get a rise out of the trailer trash kid, not just for the punchline. So he flirts back, but it's all sharp edges. Kavinsky isn't someone like Declan or one of the other boys- someone charming enough to sell can you believe he thought I was serious?- and that makes it a little bit safer.]
Or maybe I'll just take your car and drive myself. You can just buy another, right?
[There's something to how he says it- like buy was something else, only switched in at the last moment. The very idea of the words are daring in the worst way. What if someone saw, what if he didn't want to give it back?]