Open RP Post

[burnyoudown]

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🔥 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!

Comments

[threesecrets]

[It was that moment that did him in- the one where he was staring at the mark he'd left on Kavinsky's neck, and the other boy caught him at it only to bare his neck a little more. Ronan almost whimpered a little, because it made him want him in a way that felt like something as tangible as Kavinsky's hands on his body.

God, was this what it meant to like someone?

The way that Kavinsky calls him sweetheart feels anything but casual, feels like maybe he wants this as much as Ronan does. It definitely doesn't sound like someone that'll push him away when the night comes to a close, but maybe he's just being optimistic for once in his life. Maybe he just wanted it so badly he didn't want to see the storm clouds this time. But then again, Ronan was always the storm clouds, always the thing that turned everything wrong. But this time -- he didn't know. He wanted to try, at least.

He wanted to leave teeth marks all over Kavinsky so no one could doubt who he belonged to. As much as Ronan was wound around K's fingers, he was a greedy thing. He wanted to carve out pieces of the other boy that could be his, only his. It was why despite Kavinsky's jealousy, Ronan and Gansey could never have been a thing. There was no part of Gansey that would just belong to Ronan, and he'd played a funeral march for those feelings a long time ago. Kavinsky, on the other hand... sometimes it seemed like he was aching for Ronan to give him the chance, like he wanted to make spaces in his life just for Ronan, no matter what the rumors said.

So Ronan races him to the party. But it isn't really a race so much as just a different sort of flirtation: the way that they switch the lead back and forth, but Ronan never pulls too far ahead. He doesn't speed through intersections with the light looming yellow; he waits for him, like the fun isn't in beating him but in having him at his side. He'll pull ahead on those clear straight stretches of Henrietta country road, but he keeps the Mitsubishi in his rearview, and stays close when the Friday night traffic starts to snarl.

But finally he's parking the BMW just behind K's gorgeous Mitsubishi and the sight makes his heart flutter, like it means something. Like he wants it to.]

Hey.

[His voice feels flat to his own ears, but he doesn't know what else to say. There's a terrible part of him that wants to slide his hand into the other boy's, wants to hold his hand like something he was allowed to want, allowed to have. So he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jacket and instead smiles at him, crooked and a little suggestive--]

You gonna show me a good time?

[burnyoudown]

[It was less of an actual race than Kavinsky expected, and that was all right. He enjoyed trading the lead back and forth with Ronan, keeping him in sight and just knowing he was there. It was so much of what he wanted, sexual things aside; to have Ronan close by.

Kavinsky might have seemed complicated on the surface, but really he was a simple boy when it came to his feelings. He wanted what everyone did when they liked someone; he wanted them near, wanted to lavish affection on them and make them feel special, wanted to hold their hand and kiss their bruised knuckles. He was in so deep there was no going back; he wouldn't even know how to begin.

When they reached the party, his head was buzzing and adrenaline flooded his veins. He wanted to kiss Ronan as soon as they were both out of their cars, but he held himself back, showed a little restraint. That didn't stop him from draping an arm around Ronan's shoulders though, leaning in close until they were breathing the same air.]

Baby, I'll show you the best time.

[The stop earlier had only been the pre-game show. There was so much he wanted to share with Ronan, dazzle him with. Romancing someone wasn't usually Kavinsky's style, but he wanted to make Ronan feel wanted--because he was. He wanted him to feel special and cared about and assured that Kavinsky wasn't just going to kick him out after they had sex. He wouldn't--couldn't--do that to Ronan.]

[threesecrets]

[Ronan feels alive in a way that he wouldn't even know how to put words to, adrenaline and a nameless thrill that comes just from being close to Kavinsky. Just from the idea of being here with him, at his side, the way that he slides an arm around Ronan's shoulders and leans in close, breathing the same air like there's a secret to tell. Ronan isn't even thinking about it when his hand slips out of the pocket of his jacket so that he can curl it around Kavinsky in response.

His fingers resting on his hip, slipping through the belt loop of his jeans, like there was no one else to see them- or that he didn't care if they did. Holding onto him, keeping him close, and his blue eyes are heated and affected, no matter how much he hates to give away his disinterest, he's already in too deep. He smiles, leaning in close enough that it almost seemed like he was asking for that kiss, standing on the sidewalk outside of the distant hum of music and voices that the party promised.

Kavinsky was unraveling him, offering him the things that Ronan ached for without making him ask for it. To be wanted, to be special and cared for, someone that would stay, would be there even when Ronan was at his worst, hard to tolerate. And yet Kavinsky had never really left him, never judged him for being a difficult creature. Like they were made from the same things.]

Is that a promise? 'Cause I'll hold you to that.

[burnyoudown]

[Kavinsky grinned, then laughed.

Ronan was gorgeous, even more attractive than he was frustrating at times. But he wouldn't change a single thing about him. He wouldn't be Ronan anymore, then. Kavinsky would take him, all of him, the good and the bad, because nobody was perfect and everyone had flaws. There was nothing wrong with that. It wasn't 'bad' that no one was perfect; he didn't believe true perfection existed with people, just the ability to look past someone's flaws and want them all the same. And fuck, how much he wanted Ronan. It felt like it was consuming him, a desire that would eat him alive if he let it.

He took Ronan's face in his hand and leaned in the rest of the way to kiss him, slow and warm and lingering.]

I'd like it more if you held me to your body. But yeah, I won't disappoint you.

[He hoped he wouldn't, at least. He hoped Ronan wanted the same things he did. Or at least, wanted similar enough things. Kavinsky would pluck the stars out of the sky if it would make Ronan happy--and he could do it, in a way. He could dream star lights, soft, delicate things, though he'd never really tried that sort of thing before. He would for Ronan. But one step at a time, one hurdle at a time, as it was, when the other boy didn't even know he was a dreamer.]