nah target practice might not be a bad idea if youre planning on having me use one tho been a while
oh fuck off idiot
[He thinks he was before. He doesn't think he still is. Before it had been simple and obvious- he'd wanted Kavinsky so much he didn't think his body could hold it all. Now just wanting him is something he has to fight himself for.]
you that desperate to see how i look in a collar?
[He's joking. It's a joke. But somehow it doesn't feel like one. It feels like something else. Almost like the sort of tease that means I want you; like flirtation.]
look I'm just saying I don't wanna risk it
[Kindness is the fact that he doesn't bring up K's arm, or his last fight with Kaz.]
[He could set something up somewhere, dream up some extra ammo for his gun. Make sure that neither of them would accidentally shoot someone while practicing.]
harsh man you weren't always a heartbreaker
[It was easier to say it over text, when it was words on a screen instead of spoken out loud. When he could joke around a little instead of telling Ronan he was in a position to break his heart.]
maybe maybe I just want to make you mine why are you desperate to be IN a collar?
[Ronan was the one who'd brought it up, after all.]
I know and I'd rather not get my ass kicked again either
nah, not always. this is fucked you know? used to be Gansey was the only one that remembered.
[He catches the hint there, but rather than address the subject of whether or not Ronan is capable of breaking K's heart, he opts for taking it like light teasing about how soft he used to be. Cowardice, maybe, but it feels easier on them both.
And then there's a lull there, a few long minutes that tick by. Because how the fuck is he supposed to answer that? maybe I just want to make you mine. Christ. He doesn't know if that's a thrill or terror that makes his heart race. Kavinsky's cut open and exposed in ways that Ronan isn't, but he doesn't want to dip the blade into his skin.]
[He appreciates Kavinsky's control when it comes to Gansey, so he lets it go. Manages to refrain from the kneejerk that always tumbled them into a fight that usually tumbled them into cars. How would that work out here?]
I'll remember you like collars, sure
you wanna know fine. it's a pretty shitty story, though.
[After a moment of starting to type he switches it over to voice, because there's too much to put into text. Ronan's never had the fucking patience anyway; he ends up just wanting to throw his phone into a wall. So instead he sighs and starts just talking, trying to not think about it too hard.]
It's a bunch of bullshit. But there's this guy, Greenmantle? He's some black market collector. Temperamental and vaguely psychotic or something. But, he thought my dad had some magic item he wanted. It's how dad made his fortune- selling magic shit that he dreamt.
But the thing that Greenmantle wants is The Greywaren. Stop me if this fucking sounds familiar -- it was supposed to let people take things out of their dreams. Because I'm the Greywaren. And my dad. You too.
[And people wonder how Niall ended up dead...]
So of course Dad wont fucking sell it, because he can't, but he can't say that to a guy like that, because it's worse. So Greenmantle sends a hitman. The Gray Man said that Declan was supposed to find the body... Except it was me. Bloody tire iron. Brains on the concrete.
When he admitted to killing my father, I may have tried to kill him with my bare fucking hands. He said it wasn't personal. [Ronan can't keep the snarl out of his voice, but he tries. He hates flinching, and letting on how much just talking about all of this gets under his skin gets to him still sort of feels like the same thing.]
The Will said my brothers and I all had to immediately move into the Aglionby dorms. Not allowed to touch or move anything at the Barns. Not even Mom... I mean-- I get it now. Too many dreams. And she was one of his dreams, too. But I didn't get it then, and Declan didn't even try to fight for her. So I stole Dad's BMW and now we don't really talk anymore.
I lost... fucking everything. Except Matthew, but he doesn't know how to hold shit against people anyway.
[There's pieces missing, of course. Gansey making a deal for Ronan to stay with him at Monmouth, which had probably saved his life. The grades. The fights. The ethics hearings that said he wasn't holding himself to the standards of an Aglionby Man. That self-loathing that shines through in places, so deep Kavinsky had seen the blood that pooled from his arms that one night and known what it meant.]
[That was all he had time to type anyway, before Ronan called him. He listened quietly, making soft mmm noises here and there. Was Kavinsky really the Greywaren, too? Somehow, he doubted it. It sounded like something that fit Ronan better than him. But as far as the rest went...
What did he even start with? Which thread did he pick up first? He took a deep breath, letting a moment of silence drag on when Ronan was finished. Silence wasn't usually his thing; he was usually too impatient for it, but.]
Yeah, Matthew's pretty fucking sweet.
[But, moving on from that before he put a nail in his coffin or something- No wonder Ronan was so messed up if he'd found his father's body.]
I would've tried to kill the guy too, if I cared about my dad. It might not have been personal for him, but it was for you. I don't blame you for being messed up over it.
[He wasn't going to say that Ronan's dad sounded kind of shitty if he'd immediately kicked his own kids out of their house. Ronan probably wouldn't agree. Instead, Kavinsky cleared his throat a little.]
So is that why you were all joined at the hip with Gansey?
[He desperately wanted to say that Ronan losing everything was even more reason for him to stick with Kavinsky. K could give him anything--literally. He didn't have to be alone, he didn't have to feel alone. This probably wasn't a good time though, maybe. He moved on to the other potentially dangerous point, instead.]
Greenmantle rings a bell. I'd say he's more than 'vaguely' psychotic, but that's just me. I didn't realize he'd gotten too ambitious for his own good.
Part of it. I mean afterward I was just... I dunno. I hated everything. Everything felt pointless and worthless and Gansey kept me from slamming my fist into the face of literally everyone I met. Some days it felt like he was the only person that understood. Declan obviously didn't give a shit, but he and my parents-- I dunno. They weren't the same. And after a while Matthew went back to having his life, because of course he did. I felt like I was...
[He trails off, sighs with an invisible shake of his head. Kavinsky probably knows him well enough to imagine the way that he drags his fingertips against his skull.]
Gansey tries, but half the time that's not enough. He wants.. there's a world for him. Of course he thinks a high school diploma matters.
[Pain spun on the side of anger, the sort of ache he didn't talk about. He half wants to throw the phone into the nearest fucking wall, half wants to dig his fingers into Kavinsky's skin and hold onto something.]
I wish we could at least.. drive somewhere.
[It made it so that he could breathe when he was spiraling in his own head like this. He wanted to ask Kavinsky if he was going to be back home soon, but there's no way Ronan could ever ask it. So instead there's just a slight scuff as he climbs up on the roof and tries to catch some sort of breeze on his face. It's not Monmouth, not the Barns, but it's... it slows his heartbeat. He can breath here, too.]
Were you in that stuff too? Declan tried to tell me you were dangerous once.
I'm guessing no, but...did you ever talk to anyone about what happened?
[It sounded like the kind of messed up shit you should talk to someone about. But of course, he knew how hard it was to open up about things, which was why he'd never sought help, himself.]
I would've- I wanted- [He took a breath. Graduating would have been nice. He could've gone to college and proved he wasn't worthless.] Fuck. I don't want you any other way than how you are, you know?
[He didn't know how he was supposed to tell Ronan he was dead if Ronan didn't already know.
He laughed, but his heart wasn't really in it.]
He's not wrong. My dad's into the black market shit more than I am, but I hear things.
[Not enough that he'd known there were other dreamers before meeting Ronan, but enough that he knew who people like Greenmantle were.
He hesitated for a moment after that, uncharacteristically unsure.]
When I get home... We could dream. Would that help?
Not really. I mean, Gansey knows the story- he was at the funeral. Pretty sure Adam thinks I'm not worth the effort half the time. I dunno man, I've never been good at the whole talking about my feelings shit.
[This was honestly the closest that Ronan has gotten to talking to someone about what had happened. There's that way that Kavinsky stumbles on his words for a moment, and Ronan almost wants to say something, but he doesn't quite know what the right words would be.
He doesn't know that Kavinsky dies, but he knows that something goes wrong, that things get fucked and that it's probably somehow his fault. Isn't it always? But then K smooths it over before Ronan can manage to make it a question. He exhales, just holds onto the words.]
Thanks. Pretty sure you're the only one.
[His lips curl into a wry sort of smile. He says it like a joke, even if it isn't really. He's about to say something about the black market stuff, about how he'd always known Kavinsky was dangerous, but he'd never felt dangerous to him.
But then he asks about dreaming. And there's a lull there, one of those silences that Ronan is sometimes prone to. He wants it too much.]
Not worth the effort of talking to you? That's kind of fucked.
[Kavinsky...well, he was biased. He thought Ronan was worth all of the effort, no matter how difficult he could be. And knowing the story was different than really talking to someone about what had happened.]
And yeah, I've noticed. You make shit difficult sometimes.
[But so did Kavinsky, so he wasn't really judging Ronan. Besides, he cared about him too much to let that get in the way of things.]
Okay. I'll be there in five.
[Give or take a minute or two. Depending on how things worked out, Ronan might even see him coming from the rooftop.]
It wasn't that bad. I just mean- he didn't really agree with Gansey trying to save me. Not exactly someone I'd go to if I was looking to talk about my feelings.
[Not to mention that Adam was sort of cute, and Ronan wasn't great at being vulnerable in the first place, and that just made it worse. Not that he'd gotten to a place where he could admit that to himself, but it was still true.
He laughs, rough and raw as Kavinsky says he makes shit difficult, because he knows how fucking true it is.]
Yeah, I know. And you still put up with me.
[It's supposed to be a joke, and yet there's a thread of something genuine to it. Kavinsky is the one person he trusts that he wont push away. But then he says he'll be back soon, so Ronan just sits on the edge of the roof, his feet dangling off the edge as he looks at the ground. The dreamt lights they'd adorned the place with giving his face an odd cast- or maybe that's his mood. Chainsaw is perched not too far away, head tilted as she caws almost worriedly at Ronan.]
Hey.
[He calls out when he sees Kavinsky, something about him softening a little, even if his shoulders are still drawn up like a defense.]
[Talking about your feelings and seeking help for traumatic things that had happened might not be the same as 'saving' someone--he wasn't sure. Did he need to be saved? From himself, maybe. But he'd already self-destructed. There was no help for him unless someone could pull off a miracle.]
I sure do.
[Not that he needed to be saved, but that he put up with Ronan. How did he say that he didn't think there was an alternative? There was just putting up with Ronan and trying to make things work, or there was nothing. He'd lost him once. He wouldn't do it again.]
Hey.
[He looked up, raising a hand in greeting. It would only take him a few moments to get up to the roof with Ronan.]
I don't know. I'm not sure I wanted to be. But then again I might have murdered Declan in Nino's parking lot if he hadn't.
[He makes a wry sound, almost a laugh but not quite. He didn't feel like he needed to be saved. He'd needed-- Gansey used to be someone that knew what it was like to burn. Thrilling and reckless and impossible not to follow. If he was honest, Ronan felt like he needed someone that would hold his hand, be there for him afterwards. Where he was something other than a disappointment, than a reminder of who he wasn't anymore.
He laughs for real when Kavinsky says I sure do, but he doesn't argue it. Just smiles into the dark, ending the call when he sees the familiar shape of the other boy. He sighs, a curve of his mouth, looking up at Kavinsky as he joins him on the roof, a slight waggle of his fingers in greeting.]
You know, when you asked me if I would be one of your dogs before, I said no because it wasn't enough. Because I wanted-- more. I wanted to be more to you.
[It had been when wanting K to be his boyfriend became something he couldn't ignore, instead of just a whisper when they touched or kissed. Knowing that he wanted to date him and hold his hand and... He makes an agitated sound and flops back on the roof. Because the obvious question is what about now and he still hasn't worked through that entirely.
His mood is volatile, on an edge that could tip either into anger or something else entirely. Wanting, maybe.]
[He bit his tongue so he didn't make a comment about how murdering Declan would be a waste of not one but two handsome faces. Declan's because he would be dead and Ronan's because he would be in jail.
Instead, he just climbed up to the roof and settled down next to Ronan. After a moment, he reached out to gently brush his fingers along Ronan's head, for the sake of touching him. The obvious question was 'what about now' but he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.]
Sweetheart, you'd never be just a dog to me.
[Ronan was a dog to Kavinsky the way Prokopenko was a dog--he wasn't. He was more like... If K was pseudo-royalty then Ronan was a prince.]
When I asked you that, I wanted you at my side. You're important to me.
[He exhales softly, almost a sigh. He doesn't push his fingers away though, even if he tenses a little. But that's not really about Kavinsky, and after a breath he reaches up and catches his fingers, just sort of awkwardly holding hands because he doesn't quite have the right words or the right questions.]
I know.
[I think I was in love with you is what he doesn't have the words for. Doesn't know if he could say it even if he knew how, doesn't know if it's fair to Kavinsky. But then it feels pretty unfair that he has to navigate these feelings himself, let alone on his own. It's not like Ronan's ever known restraint when it comes to his emotions anyway, that is one thing about him that hasn't changed.]
But you've got Proko, Swan, Skov and Jiang. They're your dogs too. I wanted- more than that. I wanted to be special to you. Because you were special to me.
[He makes a frustrated sound, kicking his feet and sitting up and raking both hands over his skull. He laces them at the back of his neck as they settle there, not getting to his feet, just vibrating with the tension as he sits next to Kavinsky.]
Fuck it. Not like it matters. It's just-- [His voice breaks for a moment, although he tries to hide it.]
[The past tense to everything broke his heart. He didn't open up easily to people. He'd only let four boys in, but none of them were as dear to him as Ronan was. Proko came close, but even then...]
You dumb fuck.
[His voice was rough and he pointedly didn't look at Ronan as he spoke, instead gazing out at some point across the street.]
I fucking love you.
[There was nothing past tense about it. He thought he would always love Ronan no matter what happened between them.
He wanted to tear himself apart to get rid of the horrible ache he felt. He wanted to fling himself off the fucking roof. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to die or if he was just caught up in his own emotions. Sometimes, it was hard to tell. He knew what he wanted more than anything though and the answer was still Ronan.]
[Kavinsky says I fucking love you and it feels like his brain short circuits.
He doesn't know what the fuck to say.
Is there anything that he can say?
So he just-- he reaches out and tries to grab his hand, to hold onto him. There's a shake in his fingers, looking at Kavinsky lost and a little bit helpless. Trying to tug the other boy closer.
It almost feels like back at the dream field, somehow.
Like when he'd said he was leaving and K's face had been something other than Kavinsky. Ronan hadn't let himself acknowledge what it was -- vulnerability. Hurt. But this time, he isn't leaving, and he doesn't pull away.
His blue eyes are painfully affected, but he doesn't flinch from what the other boy says: I fucking love you. He doesn't push him away, doesn't reject him. He just holds his hand and presses his face into his shoulder, body half-draped against him.
He feels so much. He feels like he could drown in those words. He doesn't have the right words to say so he stumbles through the only thing that finds its way to his mouth:]
You're basically the only thing that makes me happy.
[Kavinsky didn't pull away. He let Ronan grab his hand, pull him closer. He pressed against his side, leaned his head against Ronan's, and took a shaky deep breath. There was something bittersweet about the fact he made Ronan happy. He made him happy and yet--
He squeezed his eyes shut.]
I don't get second chances, Lynch. You and me here- this is all I have.
[He'd never told Ronan. He'd been sitting on the truth for months, and it'd only been confirmed that disastrous day with Kaz. He knew what his fate was, even if Ronan didn't seem to.]
I have nothing to go home to.
[If they even could. But he didn't want to. He'd wanted to stay here with Ronan forever. Things might have changed, but his sentiment remained the same.]
[Ronan's admittedly not the brightest bulb in the box sometimes. He can be oblivious, fail to put the pieces together. But he doesn't miss this, isn't so blind that he can't read the words that Kavinsky's saying. He's quiet, just because he doesn't know what the fuck to say. Just because-- his shoulders shake and he holds onto him tighter, like Kavinsky is something that could be- will be- stolen from him.
His fault. He's sure of it in that dark way where he knows what a mess he is.]
So we don't go home. We can ask the Agrii or something. Make sure that we stay.
[He knows that he should ask him what happened, but instead he just-- he kisses him. Clumsy and earnest. Like he can say sorry for not remembering, for no longer being a boy where these feelings were easy, simple things.
For killing him, one way or another. He pulls away just enough to breathe words between them--]
[His mouth felt dry, especially when Ronan kissed him. His stomach flip-flopped and he trembled. He couldn't imagine that Ronan wanted to stay here with him. Not that either of them had the choice to stay or go home right now, but- still. The idea that Ronan would stay.]
You'd do that? I'm not sure I'm worth staying in this shit hole for.
[He really didn't think he was. He wanted Ronan to go and live his life, but he was also selfish and wanted the other boy to stay here with him forever. This place really wasn't that bad, but it wasn't home. Were they safer here? Were they in more danger? He didn't know.
He curled a hand around the back of Ronan's neck, just for the sake of touching him, as if they weren't touching enough as it was.]
I want you more than I've ever wanted anything, but- You could do better than me.
I dunno, man. I don't think I could do better than you. And even if I could-- I don't want to.
[Kavinsky was what he'd wanted. He didn't know how to explain it. But after his father died.. it was like he said, he'd lost everything. The idea of wanting anything had been laughable, impossible. And then he'd run into Kavinsky, with the parties and the racing, and it had been like a gasp. Like blood rushing back into the chambers of his heart, like coughing back to life. Wanting something.
He was what happiness felt like. Kavinsky was what pulled the agony out of his chest. He just didn't-- he hadn't known how to say it, how to work through his own feelings. And so he'd fucked everything, it seemed like.]
But yeah. You're worth it to me.
[He doesn't know it he loves Kavinsky yet, but he knows that he did before. Loved him so much he thought that he'd burst with it. And he can carry the weight of knowing that the other boy loves him, at least. Even if just the thought of it makes his heart race. He leans in, touches their foreheads together as Kavinsky's fingers rest at the back of his neck.
But he wants-- he wants to make this work. He wants what they had before, even if he doesn't know how to be that boy anymore.]
[Heat flared through Kavinsky's body. A warm feeling, something akin to pleased or flattered or- he wasn't sure. Ronan wanted him and even if he didn't love him, that was...something at least. It was better than nothing.
Twisting around a little more, he threw his legs over Ronan's lap, pressing as close to him as he could get. The other boy wasn't pushing him away, so he just- he assumed he could do this. He wanted to feel close to him for as long as he could. He wanted to commit every moment to memory.]
You're a flatterer.
[He murmured. Because saying something like that was easier, for the time being, than saying how much that meant to him.
Taking Ronan's hand, Kavinsky pressed it over his chest.]
My heart beats for you.
[He didn't think of himself as a romantic, usually. He wasn't a flowers and chocolate kind of guy; he displayed his affection in similar ways, showering loved ones in presents, that sort of thing. It was harder to express with words, but sometimes he had his moments. Moments when he let himself be open and soft. It had to be with the right person though, someone he trusted wouldn't take advantage of the moment to ridicule him or otherwise hurt him.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
target practice might not be a bad idea if youre planning on having me use one tho
been a while
oh fuck off idiot
[He thinks he was before. He doesn't think he still is. Before it had been simple and obvious- he'd wanted Kavinsky so much he didn't think his body could hold it all. Now just wanting him is something he has to fight himself for.]
you that desperate to see how i look in a collar?
[He's joking. It's a joke. But somehow it doesn't feel like one. It feels like something else. Almost like the sort of tease that means I want you; like flirtation.]
look I'm just saying I don't wanna risk it
[Kindness is the fact that he doesn't bring up K's arm, or his last fight with Kaz.]
no subject
I can do that
[He could set something up somewhere, dream up some extra ammo for his gun. Make sure that neither of them would accidentally shoot someone while practicing.]
harsh man
you weren't always a heartbreaker
[It was easier to say it over text, when it was words on a screen instead of spoken out loud. When he could joke around a little instead of telling Ronan he was in a position to break his heart.]
maybe
maybe I just want to make you mine
why
are you desperate to be IN a collar?
[Ronan was the one who'd brought it up, after all.]
I know
and I'd rather not get my ass kicked again either
no subject
this is fucked you know?
used to be Gansey was the only one that remembered.
[He catches the hint there, but rather than address the subject of whether or not Ronan is capable of breaking K's heart, he opts for taking it like light teasing about how soft he used to be. Cowardice, maybe, but it feels easier on them both.
And then there's a lull there, a few long minutes that tick by. Because how the fuck is he supposed to answer that? maybe I just want to make you mine. Christ. He doesn't know if that's a thrill or terror that makes his heart race. Kavinsky's cut open and exposed in ways that Ronan isn't, but he doesn't want to dip the blade into his skin.]
dunno
ive never worn one for someone
no subject
[Which was as close as he was going to get to the old teasing.]
so what happened?
are you that fucked up over your dad?
[He figured it was a touchy subject but that had never been enough reason for him to avoid something before. That wasn't about to change now.]
well
if you ever DO want to wear one
let me know
voice; vague magical suicidality
I'll remember you like collars, sure
you wanna know fine.
it's a pretty shitty story, though.
[After a moment of starting to type he switches it over to voice, because there's too much to put into text. Ronan's never had the fucking patience anyway; he ends up just wanting to throw his phone into a wall. So instead he sighs and starts just talking, trying to not think about it too hard.]
It's a bunch of bullshit. But there's this guy, Greenmantle? He's some black market collector. Temperamental and vaguely psychotic or something. But, he thought my dad had some magic item he wanted. It's how dad made his fortune- selling magic shit that he dreamt.
But the thing that Greenmantle wants is The Greywaren. Stop me if this fucking sounds familiar -- it was supposed to let people take things out of their dreams. Because I'm the Greywaren. And my dad. You too.
[And people wonder how Niall ended up dead...]
So of course Dad wont fucking sell it, because he can't, but he can't say that to a guy like that, because it's worse. So Greenmantle sends a hitman. The Gray Man said that Declan was supposed to find the body... Except it was me. Bloody tire iron. Brains on the concrete.
When he admitted to killing my father, I may have tried to kill him with my bare fucking hands. He said it wasn't personal. [Ronan can't keep the snarl out of his voice, but he tries. He hates flinching, and letting on how much just talking about all of this gets under his skin gets to him still sort of feels like the same thing.]
The Will said my brothers and I all had to immediately move into the Aglionby dorms. Not allowed to touch or move anything at the Barns. Not even Mom... I mean-- I get it now. Too many dreams. And she was one of his dreams, too. But I didn't get it then, and Declan didn't even try to fight for her. So I stole Dad's BMW and now we don't really talk anymore.
I lost... fucking everything. Except Matthew, but he doesn't know how to hold shit against people anyway.
[There's pieces missing, of course. Gansey making a deal for Ronan to stay with him at Monmouth, which had probably saved his life. The grades. The fights. The ethics hearings that said he wasn't holding himself to the standards of an Aglionby Man. That self-loathing that shines through in places, so deep Kavinsky had seen the blood that pooled from his arms that one night and known what it meant.]
no subject
[That was all he had time to type anyway, before Ronan called him. He listened quietly, making soft mmm noises here and there. Was Kavinsky really the Greywaren, too? Somehow, he doubted it. It sounded like something that fit Ronan better than him. But as far as the rest went...
What did he even start with? Which thread did he pick up first? He took a deep breath, letting a moment of silence drag on when Ronan was finished. Silence wasn't usually his thing; he was usually too impatient for it, but.]
Yeah, Matthew's pretty fucking sweet.
[But, moving on from that before he put a nail in his coffin or something- No wonder Ronan was so messed up if he'd found his father's body.]
I would've tried to kill the guy too, if I cared about my dad. It might not have been personal for him, but it was for you. I don't blame you for being messed up over it.
[He wasn't going to say that Ronan's dad sounded kind of shitty if he'd immediately kicked his own kids out of their house. Ronan probably wouldn't agree. Instead, Kavinsky cleared his throat a little.]
So is that why you were all joined at the hip with Gansey?
[He desperately wanted to say that Ronan losing everything was even more reason for him to stick with Kavinsky. K could give him anything--literally. He didn't have to be alone, he didn't have to feel alone. This probably wasn't a good time though, maybe. He moved on to the other potentially dangerous point, instead.]
Greenmantle rings a bell. I'd say he's more than 'vaguely' psychotic, but that's just me. I didn't realize he'd gotten too ambitious for his own good.
no subject
[He trails off, sighs with an invisible shake of his head. Kavinsky probably knows him well enough to imagine the way that he drags his fingertips against his skull.]
Gansey tries, but half the time that's not enough. He wants.. there's a world for him. Of course he thinks a high school diploma matters.
[Pain spun on the side of anger, the sort of ache he didn't talk about. He half wants to throw the phone into the nearest fucking wall, half wants to dig his fingers into Kavinsky's skin and hold onto something.]
I wish we could at least.. drive somewhere.
[It made it so that he could breathe when he was spiraling in his own head like this. He wanted to ask Kavinsky if he was going to be back home soon, but there's no way Ronan could ever ask it. So instead there's just a slight scuff as he climbs up on the roof and tries to catch some sort of breeze on his face. It's not Monmouth, not the Barns, but it's... it slows his heartbeat. He can breath here, too.]
Were you in that stuff too? Declan tried to tell me you were dangerous once.
no subject
[It sounded like the kind of messed up shit you should talk to someone about. But of course, he knew how hard it was to open up about things, which was why he'd never sought help, himself.]
I would've- I wanted- [He took a breath. Graduating would have been nice. He could've gone to college and proved he wasn't worthless.] Fuck. I don't want you any other way than how you are, you know?
[He didn't know how he was supposed to tell Ronan he was dead if Ronan didn't already know.
He laughed, but his heart wasn't really in it.]
He's not wrong. My dad's into the black market shit more than I am, but I hear things.
[Not enough that he'd known there were other dreamers before meeting Ronan, but enough that he knew who people like Greenmantle were.
He hesitated for a moment after that, uncharacteristically unsure.]
When I get home... We could dream. Would that help?
no subject
[This was honestly the closest that Ronan has gotten to talking to someone about what had happened. There's that way that Kavinsky stumbles on his words for a moment, and Ronan almost wants to say something, but he doesn't quite know what the right words would be.
He doesn't know that Kavinsky dies, but he knows that something goes wrong, that things get fucked and that it's probably somehow his fault. Isn't it always? But then K smooths it over before Ronan can manage to make it a question. He exhales, just holds onto the words.]
Thanks. Pretty sure you're the only one.
[His lips curl into a wry sort of smile. He says it like a joke, even if it isn't really. He's about to say something about the black market stuff, about how he'd always known Kavinsky was dangerous, but he'd never felt dangerous to him.
But then he asks about dreaming. And there's a lull there, one of those silences that Ronan is sometimes prone to. He wants it too much.]
Okay. That'd be-- It'd be good.
no subject
[Kavinsky...well, he was biased. He thought Ronan was worth all of the effort, no matter how difficult he could be. And knowing the story was different than really talking to someone about what had happened.]
And yeah, I've noticed. You make shit difficult sometimes.
[But so did Kavinsky, so he wasn't really judging Ronan. Besides, he cared about him too much to let that get in the way of things.]
Okay. I'll be there in five.
[Give or take a minute or two. Depending on how things worked out, Ronan might even see him coming from the rooftop.]
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[Not to mention that Adam was sort of cute, and Ronan wasn't great at being vulnerable in the first place, and that just made it worse. Not that he'd gotten to a place where he could admit that to himself, but it was still true.
He laughs, rough and raw as Kavinsky says he makes shit difficult, because he knows how fucking true it is.]
Yeah, I know. And you still put up with me.
[It's supposed to be a joke, and yet there's a thread of something genuine to it. Kavinsky is the one person he trusts that he wont push away. But then he says he'll be back soon, so Ronan just sits on the edge of the roof, his feet dangling off the edge as he looks at the ground. The dreamt lights they'd adorned the place with giving his face an odd cast- or maybe that's his mood. Chainsaw is perched not too far away, head tilted as she caws almost worriedly at Ronan.]
Hey.
[He calls out when he sees Kavinsky, something about him softening a little, even if his shoulders are still drawn up like a defense.]
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Did you need to be saved?
[Talking about your feelings and seeking help for traumatic things that had happened might not be the same as 'saving' someone--he wasn't sure. Did he need to be saved? From himself, maybe. But he'd already self-destructed. There was no help for him unless someone could pull off a miracle.]
I sure do.
[Not that he needed to be saved, but that he put up with Ronan. How did he say that he didn't think there was an alternative? There was just putting up with Ronan and trying to make things work, or there was nothing. He'd lost him once. He wouldn't do it again.]
Hey.
[He looked up, raising a hand in greeting. It would only take him a few moments to get up to the roof with Ronan.]
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[He makes a wry sound, almost a laugh but not quite. He didn't feel like he needed to be saved. He'd needed-- Gansey used to be someone that knew what it was like to burn. Thrilling and reckless and impossible not to follow. If he was honest, Ronan felt like he needed someone that would hold his hand, be there for him afterwards. Where he was something other than a disappointment, than a reminder of who he wasn't anymore.
He laughs for real when Kavinsky says I sure do, but he doesn't argue it. Just smiles into the dark, ending the call when he sees the familiar shape of the other boy. He sighs, a curve of his mouth, looking up at Kavinsky as he joins him on the roof, a slight waggle of his fingers in greeting.]
You know, when you asked me if I would be one of your dogs before, I said no because it wasn't enough. Because I wanted-- more. I wanted to be more to you.
[It had been when wanting K to be his boyfriend became something he couldn't ignore, instead of just a whisper when they touched or kissed. Knowing that he wanted to date him and hold his hand and... He makes an agitated sound and flops back on the roof. Because the obvious question is what about now and he still hasn't worked through that entirely.
His mood is volatile, on an edge that could tip either into anger or something else entirely. Wanting, maybe.]
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Instead, he just climbed up to the roof and settled down next to Ronan. After a moment, he reached out to gently brush his fingers along Ronan's head, for the sake of touching him. The obvious question was 'what about now' but he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.]
Sweetheart, you'd never be just a dog to me.
[Ronan was a dog to Kavinsky the way Prokopenko was a dog--he wasn't. He was more like... If K was pseudo-royalty then Ronan was a prince.]
When I asked you that, I wanted you at my side. You're important to me.
[I love you was what he meant.]
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I know.
[I think I was in love with you is what he doesn't have the words for. Doesn't know if he could say it even if he knew how, doesn't know if it's fair to Kavinsky. But then it feels pretty unfair that he has to navigate these feelings himself, let alone on his own. It's not like Ronan's ever known restraint when it comes to his emotions anyway, that is one thing about him that hasn't changed.]
But you've got Proko, Swan, Skov and Jiang. They're your dogs too. I wanted- more than that. I wanted to be special to you. Because you were special to me.
[He makes a frustrated sound, kicking his feet and sitting up and raking both hands over his skull. He laces them at the back of his neck as they settle there, not getting to his feet, just vibrating with the tension as he sits next to Kavinsky.]
Fuck it. Not like it matters. It's just-- [His voice breaks for a moment, although he tries to hide it.]
We were happy, weren't we?
cw: vague suicidal ideation??
You dumb fuck.
[His voice was rough and he pointedly didn't look at Ronan as he spoke, instead gazing out at some point across the street.]
I fucking love you.
[There was nothing past tense about it. He thought he would always love Ronan no matter what happened between them.
He wanted to tear himself apart to get rid of the horrible ache he felt. He wanted to fling himself off the fucking roof. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to die or if he was just caught up in his own emotions. Sometimes, it was hard to tell. He knew what he wanted more than anything though and the answer was still Ronan.]
You make me happier than anything.
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He doesn't know what the fuck to say.
Is there anything that he can say?
So he just-- he reaches out and tries to grab his hand, to hold onto him. There's a shake in his fingers, looking at Kavinsky lost and a little bit helpless. Trying to tug the other boy closer.
It almost feels like back at the dream field, somehow.
Like when he'd said he was leaving and K's face had been something other than Kavinsky. Ronan hadn't let himself acknowledge what it was -- vulnerability. Hurt. But this time, he isn't leaving, and he doesn't pull away.
His blue eyes are painfully affected, but he doesn't flinch from what the other boy says: I fucking love you. He doesn't push him away, doesn't reject him. He just holds his hand and presses his face into his shoulder, body half-draped against him.
He feels so much. He feels like he could drown in those words. He doesn't have the right words to say so he stumbles through the only thing that finds its way to his mouth:]
You're basically the only thing that makes me happy.
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He squeezed his eyes shut.]
I don't get second chances, Lynch. You and me here- this is all I have.
[He'd never told Ronan. He'd been sitting on the truth for months, and it'd only been confirmed that disastrous day with Kaz. He knew what his fate was, even if Ronan didn't seem to.]
I have nothing to go home to.
[If they even could. But he didn't want to. He'd wanted to stay here with Ronan forever. Things might have changed, but his sentiment remained the same.]
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His fault. He's sure of it in that dark way where he knows what a mess he is.]
So we don't go home. We can ask the Agrii or something. Make sure that we stay.
[He knows that he should ask him what happened, but instead he just-- he kisses him. Clumsy and earnest. Like he can say sorry for not remembering, for no longer being a boy where these feelings were easy, simple things.
For killing him, one way or another. He pulls away just enough to breathe words between them--]
I want to make it good.
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You'd do that? I'm not sure I'm worth staying in this shit hole for.
[He really didn't think he was. He wanted Ronan to go and live his life, but he was also selfish and wanted the other boy to stay here with him forever. This place really wasn't that bad, but it wasn't home. Were they safer here? Were they in more danger? He didn't know.
He curled a hand around the back of Ronan's neck, just for the sake of touching him, as if they weren't touching enough as it was.]
I want you more than I've ever wanted anything, but- You could do better than me.
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[Kavinsky was what he'd wanted. He didn't know how to explain it. But after his father died.. it was like he said, he'd lost everything. The idea of wanting anything had been laughable, impossible. And then he'd run into Kavinsky, with the parties and the racing, and it had been like a gasp. Like blood rushing back into the chambers of his heart, like coughing back to life. Wanting something.
He was what happiness felt like. Kavinsky was what pulled the agony out of his chest. He just didn't-- he hadn't known how to say it, how to work through his own feelings. And so he'd fucked everything, it seemed like.]
But yeah. You're worth it to me.
[He doesn't know it he loves Kavinsky yet, but he knows that he did before. Loved him so much he thought that he'd burst with it. And he can carry the weight of knowing that the other boy loves him, at least. Even if just the thought of it makes his heart race. He leans in, touches their foreheads together as Kavinsky's fingers rest at the back of his neck.
But he wants-- he wants to make this work. He wants what they had before, even if he doesn't know how to be that boy anymore.]
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Twisting around a little more, he threw his legs over Ronan's lap, pressing as close to him as he could get. The other boy wasn't pushing him away, so he just- he assumed he could do this. He wanted to feel close to him for as long as he could. He wanted to commit every moment to memory.]
You're a flatterer.
[He murmured. Because saying something like that was easier, for the time being, than saying how much that meant to him.
Taking Ronan's hand, Kavinsky pressed it over his chest.]
My heart beats for you.
[He didn't think of himself as a romantic, usually. He wasn't a flowers and chocolate kind of guy; he displayed his affection in similar ways, showering loved ones in presents, that sort of thing. It was harder to express with words, but sometimes he had his moments. Moments when he let himself be open and soft. It had to be with the right person though, someone he trusted wouldn't take advantage of the moment to ridicule him or otherwise hurt him.]