Joseph ♔ Kavinsky (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
burnyoudown) wrote2021-07-18 04:56 pm
burnyoudown) wrote2021-07-18 04:56 pm
Entry tags:
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!
no subject
Kavinsky had made an effort, invited him, and hasn't seemed to get bored of him. He still has his focus, and Adam doesn't want to give it up. And sure, he's a jerk and a ]
And Evo's use transponder keys. Even if I wanted to spend the rest of the night disassembling the steering column to get to the pin, it wont run power to the engine without them.
[Which is a fancy way of saying that Kavinsky is right, and he really would need the keys. His Henrietta accent creeps into the edge of his voice, and he might be talking about the other boy's car, but the words still sound like flirting. Or maybe a little bit more. Adam's fond enough of that car he wouldn't actually take it apart just to hotwire it - but it makes a sweet sort of threat to breathe into the space between them.
He leaves the bottle on the table, and his eyes flick over the other boy. What do you want, Adam? Physical contact is always charged for him. So often it meant pain and hurt and that numb feeling where he pulled every piece of himself into a ball where his father couldn't touch it. But it also made him vulnerable to the opposite: pleasure, contact, heat- anything that felt good, that meant something.
He reaches out, carefully splays fingers against Kavinsky's shoulder like he's anchoring himself, pressing against fabric. It's a terrible idea, of course, and Adam has no excuses. He skipped all the intoxicants except for Kavinsky himself. But there's no school and he doesn't have work until late afternoon, and technically it's been his birthday since midnight. He's close enough he could shift and press knees into his hips, or press up next to him, but he doesn't. Just that one touch, fingers soaking up the heat, pressed against his too-bony shoulder, leaning in close.]
no subject
[He didn't give a flying fuck if Adam could hotwire his car or not, but he appreciated a man who knew cars. It was hot, if he was being honest.]
Sounds like you're stuck, then.
[But he didn't say it like it was a bad thing, because he wasn't thinking of it as one.
He took another sip from his water bottle before putting the cap back on so he could set it...somewhere. The floor, the table, whatever he could reach without actually moving. Not just because he didn't feel like moving but because Adam was touching him and it felt like something. Something he didn't want to disturb.
Sighing, fighting the urge to let his head lean back and close his eyes, he reached up--slowly, so Adam wouldn't spook--and cupped the side of the other boy's face. Because he wanted to, and because Adam had a fine face.]
Has anyone ever told you you're hot?
[He had a feeling the answer was no, which was a shame. Everyone was probably too busy forgetting Adam even existed, but not Kavinsky.]
no subject
[Adam doesn't sound particularly broken-up about it, either. He didn't want to go back to 300 Fox Way, and he doesn't want to go home alone- he hadn't wanted to be anywhere, if he was honest. He should argue the point more, but he feels like Kavinsky has already seen through him to the point that he can't bring himself to mind.
He's certain enough that if this was a punchline that Kavinsky would have backed out by now. Because instead he's carefully setting down the water bottle and letting his fingers cup against the side of his face, slowly. Like he's noticed the way Adam tensed at fast movements, loud noises, contact he didn't expect. And it's that hint of care that undoes the last of his paranoia. He trembles, tilts into the touch like he's greedy for it, blue eyes watching the other boy as heat slides through his veins.]
No. You have very distinctive features, Mister Parrish, is about the closest I've got.
[Blue had called him pretty once, but the last thing he wants to do is talk about her. He can still hear it if he lets himself: it's not going to be you and me. He'd felt colorless and ugly, angry, untethered. Now he felt-- he didn't quite know. But it feels like Kavinsky wants him- wants Adam Parrish- when no one else does, and that's good enough. And maybe it should be impossible, but he can't bring himself to care.
He reaches out and lets his other hand slide up against the line of the other boy's jaw, gentle at the back of his neck and then curling fingers in the dark strands of Kavinsky's hair. Even with the hand clinging to his shoulder, Adam feels unsteady, like he's coming undone just from fingers searing against his skin.]
no subject
[Distinctive was one way to put it, he guessed, but Kavinsky preferred 'hot'. Were people intimidated by Adam? Did they think he wanted to be ignored? If he hadn't already been snapped up by Gansey and Ronan, he was exactly the type Kavinsky would take under his wing. A lonely boy who needed someone to empower him. Maybe it wasn't too late.
Normally, he would hatch a plan. Right now, he was so high he just wanted to indulge himself--and Adam, if the other boy was willing. Kavinsky wasn't touch starved by any means, but he was hyper-aware of Adam's hands on him, feeling his fingers against his skin. Maybe it was the drugs. Maybe it was just the moment, his own desire. He also didn't think Adam touched just anyone like this. That meant it wasn't something to be wasted.
He slid his hand around to the back of Adam's neck, tugging him closer, close enough to nudge their mouths together, to kiss him, assuming Adam didn't pull away. Kavinsky might not have liked taking no for an answer, but he was softer right now, edges not as sharp from the drugs he'd taken. He'd let Adam pull away if he wanted to, but he hoped he wouldn't.]
no subject
But when Kavinsky tugs him closer, fingers at the back of his neck, until they're close, so close he can feel his breath on his lips, and then touching... Adam doesn't pull away. He leans into him, into the contact of lips on lips until they're kissing, all heat and want. And for a moment, he doesn't feel alone, doesn't feel angry and ugly and unknowable.
The idea that Kavinsky of all people might think he was hot, might want Adam Parrish-- But with heat on his skin and the other boy's mouth against his, it's hard to think of anything except for this, how it feels. It's not his first kiss, but it's also been a while since there was someone that wanted him enough for it. It had been back before Aglionby, when everyone around him spoke with that Henrietta curl to their words.
Adam's fingers tremble against Kavinsky's shoulder, and there's a desperation in how he melts into the kiss, his heartbeat racing. It's not just that he wants to be wanted, but Kavinsky is gorgeous and as much as parties have never been something he's been attracted to, it's the first time in a while he's felt awake in his own skin.]
no subject
Reaching out with his other hand, he pressed his fingers against Adam's hip, coaxing him closer, into Kavinsky's lap if he could. He wasn't as pushy as he could have been, which had more to do with the drugs than not wanting to spook Adam. He could pull away if he wanted; Kavinsky wouldn't stop him. But he wanted to feel the warmth of his body, curl his arms around his waist.
He was feeling needy, greedy, and cuddly. There was also the foolish hope that Adam's closeness would help with the aching in his head. Maybe he'd be a distraction. He was already distracting, but- things could be better.]
You could be one of my boys. [He murmured.]
no subject
There's something intoxicating about this, about being close to someone, about feeling- he doesn't quite know. Feeling wanted, desired. Like Kavinsky- untouchable dark king of Henrietta- thought that Adam Parrish was worth wanting. Maybe this is a bad idea, but it's one that he can't resist. Letting the other boy's fingers on his hips urge him closer until he's in his lap, knees pressing to K's hips.
They're pressed so close and it somehow feels almost more intimate than kissing. His fingers slide against his ribs through his shirt, his other hand shifting to cup the side of his face and then trail down against the side of his neck. This felt illicit; but Adam couldn't help wanting to hold onto it anyway. The words Kavinsky says seem almost impossible; he's not like them. Doesn't have a car for street racing, has far too contentious a relationship with alcohol and violence for these things to ever be easy.
The idea of belonging to someone isn't easy for him, either- the desire to not be alone, warring with his need to stand on his own feet. But it feels less like control, less like being a thing that Kavinsky would owns than the sentiment does when it's coming from Gansey. Or maybe that's just how he justifies it to himself. So he's wary but he doesn't flinch, doesn't pull away.
Instead he traces fingers against his skin, his eyes sharp and intense with hardly any space between them. He's already in over his head, but he tries to pretend he has a handle on this, on his own desires.]
And what would that look like? What do you want?
no subject
It was a good question and he took a moment to consider it, doing his best to string thoughts together when he was high like this. He probably should've been sipping on the water Adam had brought him, but that required moving and effort and just ugh. He pulled his thoughts back to the matter at hand, the questions Adam had asked.]
I want your loyalty. [And in exchange he would give Adam everything. Kavinsky didn't think he'd take it, though.] I want you at my parties and in my car. [And maybe in his bed, but that was a different hurdle.]
I'm saying-- be a good friend.
[It sounded a little silly when he said it like that, but it was still true.]
All of my boys struggled, you know. They were all lonely and broken, and I- [He broke off, hesitated, tried to find the right way to word things.] -I know what it's like. I could make sure no one ever lays hands on you again. We're like a family.
['Family' might not have been entirely accurate, considering Skov and Swan were dating and his own sexual relationship with Prokopenko, but. They relied on each other, trusted each other.
He wanted Adam at his side, too. It was partly out of spite, if he was being honest, but there was so much more to it than that. He wanted to take what Gansey had, bit by bit, but he wouldn't stop Adam from being friends with the other boy, either. He wasn't going to cut him off from people.]
no subject
And that's something that Adam thinks that even his pride could live with. Because it sounds like Kavinsky isn't asking for anything that he's not willing to give.]
Maybe. Which isn't.. I'm not saying no, okay? You should ask me again when you're a little more coherent.
[His tone isn't cruel, and he doesn't stop touching him, doesn't lean away from the other boy. He knew that Kavinsky was more or less always at least a little bit high, but twenty minutes ago he'd been texting him about how he didn't know what he took, but not to let him have any more. And this was complicated for Adam. It wasn't the sort of thing that he could just say yes to.
And right now he really wanted him to kiss him again.
Kavinsky felt... he didn't know how to put it in words exactly, but he's not in the other boy's lap just because he knows that it will scorch Blue and Gansey to their bones. But the other boy is fiercely attractive and captivating, and he can't help the feeling that he is more than the rumors, more than he seems. The ways that he makes such an effort not to spook Adam, to make sure he feels safe, when everyone else in his life had to be taught.
He can't resist wanting to know him better, to see what he hides.]
But maybe.
no subject
Adam didn't look like he needed a savior, maybe just a shoulder to lean on sometimes, people who understood what it was like when things were hard. Kavinsky and his boys might have been rich but money didn't eliminate all of their problems. Money didn't stop abuse or bullying or being alone.
He nodded slowly when Adam said maybe. He wasn't disappointed; he hadn't expected a yes right away. In fact, a 'maybe' was promising.]
Okay.
[That was it. He wasn't going to argue about it or push the subject. He'd presented his offer and Adam probably needed time to think about it. Alongside that, Kavinsky probably needed someplace quiet to make his head stop aching. The living room in the middle of a party wasn't really the right place for it.]
I should probably lie down. You gonna keep me company?
[He was absolutely asking Adam to climb into bed with him in his room, but he wasn't asking for sex. It wasn't like he could drive Adam home right now, anyway, so what would it hurt if he stayed the night in Kavinsky's room? As far as the party went- he'd just have to find Proko and tell him to make sure everyone was kicked out after a certain time. And that they didn't trash the house too much.]