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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[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.]

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.]

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.

[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.]

[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.]

I know. Of course you do.

[Ronan's voice was warm and soothing, trying to make sure that Kavinsky knew that it was okay, that Ronan didn't fault him for it. The greedy part of him wanted to just hold onto him, take their clothes off and touch until he could feel him in his skin. But he wanted to do it someplace more real than in Lindenmere, and as greedy as he was, he knew how important seeing Proko was for Kavinsky.

So he bottled up his desire- or did his best, at least- and instead smiled at him as he laced their fingers together, gently tugging Kavinsky with him as he walked through the trees. It wasn't that there was a specific exit in a place like this, but Ronan walked in a direction with purpose, letting Lindenmere know where he wanted to go, and eventually he'd find his way back to the rocky path that he'd taken to get there in the first place.

He couldn't help staring at Kavinsky for a long moment, holding his hand a little bit tighter. And then he let out a breath that he didn't even know he'd been holding when he was still here, still real, still Kavinsky.]

C'mon. My car isn't far.

[He nodded, taking a breath, and then another. It mattered to him that Ronan didn't mind that he needed to see Prokopenko. Proko was his best friend- he was so important, important enough that Kavinsky had brought him back from death. Just like Ronan had done with him. If anyone would understand, Kavinsky knew it would be Ronan.

Kavinsky smiled in return, a little sad if only because he was worried about all of the what ifs. He'd have way less to be concerned about after he'd checked on Proko. Then, whatever troubles came at him, he knew he could face them with Ronan at his side. Brushing his thumb across the back of Ronan's hand, Kavinsky fell into step next to him, looking this way and that as they walked, though his gaze always returned to the boy next to him in the end. It wasn't that he'd never seen a forest before, but he knew this wasn't just a forest. It was special. Magical.

He should-]

Thank you.

[For caring about him even now, for wanting him, for bringing him back from the dead. For going to take him to see Proko. It all meant so much to him; he wasn't sure anyone had ever wanted him this much, before.]

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