[Ronan sighed, leaning back into the way that Kavinsky wrapped his arms around him, and it was precisely the sort of balm that he needed and wouldn't have known how to ask for. And strangely, he did feel safe, here in this place that was homey and cozy and nothing like Kavinsky's plastic mansion back in Henrietta. And before, he would have laughed at the offer. Would have shrugged off the other boy's touch and said something sharp and caustic just to make it clear that he was fine.

But instead, he pushes himself to make the hard choice.]

Yeah, okay. Alcohol would be good and can we-- if I'm gonna talk about this shit, I want you to touch me while I do it.

[He didn't even necessarily mean sexually, but on the other hand he wasn't ruling it out, either. With how miserable it all was, maybe it'd be nice to just stop talking and let Kavinsky show him what he'd missed when he pushed him away -- let him make it better. He reaches up, clumsily lacing their hands together, holding onto him for a moment.]

I suck at this shit. And it's just... it all sucks. I mean, you know that I die at the end.