Open RP Post

[burnyoudown]

🔥 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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[threesecrets]

[Ronan just wanted to hold and cherish Kavinsky forever. Tangled limbs and tangled lips, the sweetest words that Ronan hadn't been able to say for anyone else. Ronan had never really had a love-hate relationship with Kavinsky, anyway. He'd loved Kavinsky and hated himself for it, because of other people's rules, outdated ideas of right and wrong, and ones certainly never intended for what Ronan was. But it had been easy to lash out with venomed teeth, and Kavinsky has seemed capable of taking it, handling Ronan at his worst.

But he didn't want him to have to. Or he at least wanted to prove to Kavinsky that it was worth it.

He didn't have enough faith in himself to believe that he'd never lash out, say something cruel that the other boy didn't deserve. But he wanted.. he wanted to love him enough that he could tell the difference. What he meant and what was just Ronan lashing out at the world.

He didn't think he'd ever wanted anything as much as he wanted Kavinsky. He murmured sweetly as their foreheads rested together, moaning softly into the space between them, and he curls fingers at the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Desperate and hungry, all heat and want and need; his hips pressing into Kavinsky's touch, his pale skin flushed with arousal and pleasure, letting the other boy ruin him so sweetly.

God, he wanted this forever. Wanted him forever.]

[burnyoudown]

[Kavinsky was sure they'd have rough moments; they were both still sharp boys, after all. A little older, a little wiser, but their blades hadn't been dulled. Though Ronan might have a leg up on Kavinsky on the 'a little wiser' front considering he hadn't spent the last however long in the dream sea. Still, K'd had a lot of time to think and reflect.

The way Ronan moaned almost made Kavinsky melt. It made him tempted to keep touching him until he came undone. The important word there was 'tempted'; Kavinsky felt like he knew they both wanted more than that. Needed it, even. They'd spent too long apart. Besides, he reasoned, they'd have plenty of time now to do whatever they wanted--after this. And if whatever they wanted happened to be sweet handjobs and kissing, then that sounded like a hell of way to spend some time to Kavinsky.

He kissed Ronan with equal desperation and need, letting it linger, drawing it out for a moment until he'd forgotten to breathe and pulled back with a little gasp. Still, he stole another quick kiss before sitting back. With great reluctance, he pulled his hand out of Ronan's pants and yanked off his own shirt, dropping it to the floor. Then he slid to the side so he could work on shimmying Ronan's pants down. And press a kiss here and there to his chest while he did so.]

You know, if I hadn't been half-sure I was dreaming before, I'd think I was dreaming now.

[Because this moment was perfect and lovely and he didn't even care whose bed they were using. He hadn't even spared a thought about it. Ronan occupied his brain, front and center, and everything else paled in comparison. Nothing could match up to Ronan, nothing and no one could ever be as good. He knew he was biased. He knew he was head-over-heels in love. He'd never felt this way about anyone else ever before.]

[threesecrets]

[Ronan was thus far letting Kavinsky touch him as he wanted, but the other boy was right- he wanted, needed more than just this. Maybe on another night where they could make that the prelude, or a lazy weekend where he could show K just how weak he was for his fingers and hands, just kisses and touches, exploring each other because they had all the time in the world to do so. He wanted to take him back to the Barns.

He wanted to... he wanted to finally remake it into a place that felt like his own. Where he could keep the warmth of childhood days, but lose some of the ghosts. Make it into a place that didn't feel so empty, because he wouldn't be there alone, wouldn't be the only dreamer that called it home.

But sweet thoughts of the future could wait for later.

For the moment-- all he could think of was the two of them, here, like this, and how much he wanted him. He whined, but not quite in protest when Kavinsky's fingers pulled out of his pants. He couldn't help it, just a knee-jerk from the fact that he was no longer touching him. He did his best to help Kavinsky get his pants off, also palming against his cock, undoing the button and the zipper, pressing a kiss whenever he could steal one.]

It's too good to be a dream. It feels too good. And you're too perfect. I'd never-- I'd never have been able to get you right.

[His breath catches in something that's not quite a sob, and his blue eyes are wet but he isn't quite crying. He smiles, uneven and overwhelmed, and just shaking with so many feelings. He says the last part like a confession. Because he'd thought about it, of course. Imagined it. But he'd always known it was beyond him. Worse than the Camaro, or Matthew, or even Bryde. Every person he dreamed had been a response to a desire. Kavinsky... he was a response to most of Ronan's desires, and he was a complicated creature, sharp and soft and filled with a million threads of wants and experience, feelings and pain.

Kavinsky would never be something he could dream like he had by wanting a better brother or needing a better dreamer. Maybe part of it was that he loved him too much to ever be able to see him clearly. So he knew this was real, that it had to be real. He squirmed, managing to kick off his jeans and his boxerbriefs, leaving him completely naked, and he didn't even care that it wasn't his bed, that he'd have to wash Hennessey's sheets later.

All he cared about was that he was naked, here, with the boy that he loved. And that he needed, desperately, for Kavinsky to ravish him. Wanted their bodies twined together, so they could give each other what they needed, so that they could fulfill that ache that had been gnawing at him.]

I want you- I want everything. I brought some lube back with us, just in case.

[He admitted it with his face flushing, a little bit embarrassed as he slipped Kavinsky the small container.]

[burnyoudown]

[God, but it was hard not to be distracted by Ronan's hands on him, to resist the urge to get his hands back on Ronan instead of focusing on clothes. It didn't stop him from letting out a breathy moan though, eyes momentarily fluttering shut. It felt so good to be touched, even better to know it was Ronan--his boyfriend.]

That's why it feels like a dream. It's so good.

[It was exactly the sort of self-indulgent thing he would dream for himself, a reality where Ronan loved him and was sweet to him. But he probably wouldn't have been able to get Ronan right, either. It'd been hard enough with Prokopenko, and they'd been a lot closer at the time. Speaking of- he tucked Prokopenko away as a subject to ask about in the future.

Smiling softly, with the sweetest expression he'd maybe ever worn, he took Ronan's face in his hands and kissed him gently. He ached for him, and not just sexually, but in a sympathetic, understanding sort of way. He understood the desire and the thought to have wanted to dream a copy of him, and he was both touched and glad Ronan hadn't tried. Things seemed to be working out, so far.]

I love you, so much.

[He murmured, kissing Ronan on the forehead, then again on the lips. He had so many emotions he felt like he was going to burst. How was he supposed to contain all of them? His other form seemed to have been better for holding everything he felt, but this one was better for loving and living. Those were both things he wanted to do with Ronan.

Pulling back, he took a moment to admire Ronan's nakedness, the lines of his body, bones and muscle and alright, his cock, too. But it was about more than that. It was the sheer beauty and wonder of his existence. And then Ronan said he'd dreamed lube and Kavinsky started to laugh, warm and pleased.]

I like the way you think.

[And it saved them a hell of a lot of trouble.

He took the lube from Ronan, flopping back next to him so he could work on getting his own pants off. It wasn't very graceful, but he didn't have the patience for it right now. He could worry about being sexy about undressing some other time, when they were both a little less desperate for this.]

[threesecrets]

[God, Kavinsky moans and Ronan-- he can't even put the feeling into thought. It's just.. feeling like he wants to hear it again. And again, wants to hear it forever, till the end of his days; however long that might be. In truth it's another question that he doesn't have the answer to. But this- he wants to make Kavinsky sound like that as often as he can, wants to touch his boyfriend or slide their bodies together, and just take every excuse he can to make them both feel good.

Because fuck, he knows they both need it.]

Mm, maybe you should show me, later. After we fix the world. 'Cause I was never as good at that- good dreams. Not without Lindenmere. Or you.

[He flushes a little bit, and when Kavinsky takes his face in his hands, he kisses him back, sweet and gentle, a hand pressing to the side of the other boy's face, letting his other hand slide up along his spine, caressing, but also just- soaking up the feel of him in every touch. Not because he wanted to dream him, but because he wanted to remember. He wanted to be able to feel him and remember what his kisses felt like, how drunk he felt just on proximity when they were near each other. No matter what happened, he wanted... he wanted to keep this. He wanted to bury it in his heart like a truth no one could take from him.

His boyfriend.]

I love you too, forever.

[He knew he'd said it before, but somehow it felt like it meant more every time he said it, not less. It felt like he suddenly understood everything he'd lost, everything he'd been denying Adam by refusing to say I love you. He gasped, helpless, because there was something about having the boy kiss his forehead. It felt nostalgic, not quite enough to remind him of his mother, but it did remind him of that sweetness. Ronan was struggling too with the sheer feeling of how many emotions he had running through him. It made him think that maybe there were things that other form was better for expressing; that maybe tendril-to-tendril it'd be easier to tell/show Kavinsky just how much he felt for him, how much he loved him. Show him the things he'd felt when he was young and foolish and scared.

But Kavinsky laughs and Ronan grins, wicked and suggestive and almost a little bit proud.]

I thought you might appreciate the gesture. And I had no idea where the fuck we'd end up, and so I wanted- to make sure nothing got in the way. I knew I wouldn't be able to dream it after.

[The way that Kavinsky strips might not be overly graceful, but Ronan still thinks that it's beautiful. Because he's beautiful. And every exposed inch of skin sends a desperate surge through his heart. This amazing, wonderful, gorgeous creature, and Ronan got to keep him. Got to offer him his skin and trust that Kavinsky wanted it as much as he did. His boyfriend. And he meant it, really meant it, in all the ways that had been why Adam broke up with him. If anything, this soothed the last jagged pieces of that break, not just because he had someone else, but because he understood it better now, why they'd fallen apart, what it had been supposed to feel like. It made him even more assured that he and Parrish had always been best as friends.

But that isn't who he's thinking about at the moment. He's laying back, all bedroom eyes, his body like an invitation as he whimpers his name. God he needs this. He needs him.]

[burnyoudown]

[He smiled sadly. Ronan deserved good things. He deserved good dreams. Kavinsky knew it wasn't easy to have good dreams and that just because you could control them sometimes didn't mean you could give yourself good dreams every night. He was sure Ronan had terrible dreams more than anything else and honestly, he knew how that went.]

Yeah, I'll show you everything.

[It was a promise. He would give Ronan things to have good dreams about. They'd build a life together, compile good experiences and memories and make up for everything that'd happened before.

And god, but every time they said I love you, it felt a little more true and real and meaningful. Kavinsky's chest swelled with fondness every time and he didn't care in the slightest that they'd become the sort of couple he'd tease and poke fun at back in Henrietta. The kind who made heart eyes at each other all the time and couldn't keep their hands off each other. He understood it all now.]

Yeah, good point. You gotta go for what you want.

[He wrestled out of his pants and boxers successfully, dropping them to the floor (though it was closer to flinging them over the side of the bed), and smiled as he sat up again.]

Fingers first or-?

[Impatient, him? Nah, never. He asked while skimming a hand over Ronan's hip, up his side, and back down again, touching him for the sake of it, because he needed something to do with his hands and Ronan was literally right there.]