[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.]
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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.]