post for psls;

[threesecrets]

 

✞ m/m only
✞ no invitation needed

✞ feel free to just drop an idea
✞ if you wanna do adam & ronan chat me up first
✞ safeaslife#0150 or PM, at your leisure

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[burnyoudown]

They were on a time crunch. Kavinsky was aware of it. Maybe it was part of why he was so restless, desperate to escape the dream. It might be his last chance. If he'd had all the time in the world, he might have taunted Ronan for coming to him, of all people, but he also didn't want Ronan to change his mind. He'd come to Kavinsky for a reason, something that was bigger than just the two of them. He could respect that, but even more, he appreciated that they might have to burn the world down to do it. It spoke to his primal aspect, the part of him that craved destruction.

More importantly, though, he latched onto one thing Ronan said; I need you. It meant just as much to him as the unspoken apology. He wanted to be needed, he wanted to be important. He also wouldn't like Ronan as much as he did if he wasn't some kind of an asshole. Kavinsky just didn't want him to be the kind who pushed him away again. He'd been there, done that, and he wasn't eager for a repeat performance.

He had questions, too, but he let the dream carry them instead. What happens when this is all over? Am I just a means to an end?

Closing the distance between them, he didn't hesitate before taking Ronan's hand. A dozen different sarcastic things cycled through his mind, but what he actually said was, "When do we start?" And what, he wondered vaguely, was going to happen if the ley line went down?

[threesecrets]

"I don't know," he admits, a little helpless. He can pick up those questions in the dream. "I don't know what happens after. But it wont be-- I fucked up last time, okay? Whatever after looks like, we'll figure it out."

He shrugs his shoulders, because even in dreams he's still not good at this shit- putting his feelings or the things that he wants into words. But the dream lingers on the way that he says we. Because Ronan is different, and he regrets how things had ended even if he doesn't know how to say that. And the things he needs now are different. He needs to not be alone, he needs someone that will understand him. And in his dreams, K always says: I know what you are.

Kavinsky closes the distance between them and Ronan's fingers curl against the other boy's hand, tugging him in close, close enough so they can almost breathe each other's breath for a moment. He needs him. He can't do this on his own. Not just because of the practical considerations, but because Ronan isn't steady on his own feet.

"We start now," Ronan says, with a smile that's wild and hungry, and then he pulls Kavinsky with him. Trying to be careful, to press his intention to Lindenmere, to tell it what he needs as he holds onto the memories.

Waking in Lindenmere it always a little strange, the way the boundary between reality and dreams is a fluid thing, the lines not quite so firm between them. The two sides of himself. Dreaming is more about wanting it enough, feeling the dream, than about waking. So it's a strange thing, hard to know for sure the moment when Kavinsky goes from something in his dream, to a dream real in the world, here with him, aside from the pulse of the ley line.

"I have a car. I don't know how the shit with the ley line is going to affect this place so I want to get to another line. Or else we'll both be fucked. From there we can work out where to start."

Like Bryde had said: dominoes. And the ley lines were connected, like veins. He could still get Ilidorin back, it just meant there was more work. He wanted to find Bryde, but he wouldn't even know where to start looking. But he wasn't alone, at least.

[burnyoudown]

Kavinsky knew one thing for certain; he wouldn't be tossed aside again. He'd bring Ronan down with him if he had to, take them both out together. He might play around with some things, but he'd never been more serious about Ronan. The apologies, the admission that Ronan had fucked up, placated Kavinsky. He accepted them, embraced them, took them as true and honest. Damn right, Ronan had fucked up before. He'd made a mess of everything and then Kavinsky had made it worse. But now there was a chance to fix everything, in more ways than one.

He felt it when he passed from dream to reality, subtle but there. It was the difference between not really breathing and taking your first breath, smelling the forest around them. Feeling the crunch of leaves underfoot, the air on his skin.

Starting immediately suited Kavinsky just fine; he'd never been one for wasting time, especially when the stakes were high. He didn't know just how high they were right now, but he knew things were dire enough for Ronan to seek his help, of all people.

"Sounds like we need to hurry the fuck up, then," he said.

There was a slew of questions he wanted to ask, things he didn't even know if Ronan had the answers to, what had happened to his pack, what had happened to Prokopenko after Kavinsky had died, but he held them all inside because there were more important things to do, to talk about. Like-

"Where are your friends in this mess?" It was potentially a cruel question, but being cruel had never stopped Kavinsky before.

[threesecrets]

"Yeah. I've got a car, it's not far." As much as he loved Lindenmere, this wasn't time to wait. He didn't know exactly what Hennessy had done, if it could follow this far down the line. But it was like dominos, cutting off the line there weakened them all. And he remembered the summer they'd lost Cabeswater, and he could imagine the same thing happening again. But whatever it took, he'd fix this. He'd fix it all, so that Dreamers could dream, and Dreams could just live.

So people like Matthew and Prokopenko didn't have to worry about the dumb shit their Dreamers did.

And then Kavinsky asks that question, and Ronan looks away from him. His shoulders tense, his blue eyes tighten, and he lets that question hang on the air. The silence is normally intended for discomfort, but Kavinsky has never minded. Half the time it gave him an opportunity to fill it, and the other half it was almost companionable, filled by the purr of an engine or the roar of a fire.

"Adam and Declan opted to work with the people trying to kill me. Gansey's traveling the world with his girlfriend and his boyfriend. Then there was Bryde and Hennessy. Bryde was one of my dreams, and Hennessy just blew up the ley line because I guess telling me to fuck off wasn't good enough."

His description of Hennessy is flippant, because it has to be. Because otherwise he'll have to talk to Kavinsky about what it was like to stand there asking another dreamer to choose you and being told you weren't enough. And he's not ready for that, yet. He can admit to understanding he fucked up without admitting to the why. When the truth is that Ronan's here with K because it's the only alternative to flagrant self-immolation.

"It's just us."

[burnyoudown]

He waited patiently for Ronan to speak, resisting the urge to tell him to get on with it, to tell him that they were both standing there for a reason. There were so many snide things Kavinsky could say when Ronan finally answered. Of course, the people who mattered most to him had turned on him. What was a little bit surprising was hearing that Gansey was off traveling the world without Ronan. The way Kavinsky saw it, those two had been joined at the hip.

"You and Gansey break up?" Alright, so he couldn't completely resist the snide comments. It wasn't his first nature to be nice. He was capable of it, of course, but he expected loyalty in return.

"No one else understands us," he added. "No one will get you like I do." They weren't too far off, the two of them. He'd seen the same fire burning in Ronan that burned in himself, or else he wouldn't have reached out to Ronan when he had, dreamer or not.

"'Just us' are better odds than I'm used to." Which was usually just him against the world. He couldn't rely on his boys in this kind of situation, either. They wouldn't understand, they'd get in the way. Worse, they'd get hurt. Not that he usually cared about that, but by his hands it was different. "We can do this." Whatever 'this' involved.