#kevian

[kris-lemche-stan]

[amberpriceenthusiast]

And you’re telling me I’m not supposed to ship Ian and Kevin

[for-forgem]

gang should i make a kevian edit?😪

[ltr-png]

Kevin loves showering Ian with affection on the holidays, but especially Valentine’s Day and Ian’s birthday. Like obviously Kevin’s sweet to Ian everyday, but on Ian’s birthday he continuously tells him how much he appreciates and loves him

Oh also Christmas, but when they’re alone, after they’re done hanging out with friends and family. He’s less talkative and he’s more so just kissing Ian, just like any part of Ian he can kiss

Kevin loves Ian very much

[redlibra14]

Ian: Look. I may not be a saint, but it's not like I’ve killed anybody. I’m not an arsonist. I’ve never found a wallet outside of an IHOP and thought about returning it but saw the owner lived out of state so just took the cash and dropped the wallet back on the ground. Kevin: Okay, that's really specific, and that makes me think that you definitely did do that.

[spooky-mister]

Broken Memories - Kevin x Ian

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Hey-

So-

I wrote another thing lmao.

Don’t expect me to update this fast all the time - I just have a lot of inspiration right now, okay?

Anyways

Zzzoverthinkzzz gave me the idea of writing Kevin and Ian’s first kiss so I came up with this angst.

Enjoy-

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Broken Memories

Fandom: Final Destination 3

Paring: Kevin Fischer x Ian McKinley

Word count: 2,969

Plot: Ian remembers the first time he kissed a boy.

Potential triggers: Two uses of homophobic slurs, bullying.

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Whenever Ian McKinley was by himself, his mind liked to wander. He had no real control over what he settled on - the things he'd read, school work, future plans - but least of all, old, broken memories. As soon as his past four years at the hellscape they called McKinley High School reared their ugly head, he would try to shut down into a different distraction as soon as possible. But not today.

As he sat with his hands taut and white-fisted against the steering wheel of his beaten, beige van, waiting for Wendy Christensen and Kevin Fischer to walk out of the McKinley Police Station, his mind was, in fact, starting to wander. It was almost welcome. After the trauma of losing his only friend in this entire world, he would have welcomed any embarrassing thought his brain could have pushed to the surface. Any thought but this one.

He blinked his eyes tight shut and he was there. In his bedroom four years ago. The room looked bigger without his current dark grey paint across the walls but posters still pealed from them. His black comforter was strewn diagonal and messy across his bed but his numerous books were stacked neat.

And he was there.

Kevin Fischer.

Kevin stood in Ian's room, reading the spines of the books and cautiously admiring the posters - pointing out in clear excitement when he saw something he recognised. Then the younger Kevin turned back to Ian in all of his sun-kissed, Hollywood heart-throb glory. And he smiled.

Oh, shit.

___________________________________

Ian's first week at McKinley High School had been less than ideal. Not only did he have to deal with his own name working against him when it came to childish name-calling and insults, but he stood out like a sore thumb - tight, black jeans and heavy, dark sweaters juxtaposing against the colour palette of blue jeans and tank tops the rest of the school seemed to sport. He didn't care too much. He would rather have a single independent thought through high school over conforming to the rest of the drones.

Still, his independence from the rest of the kids in his academic year didn't come without a share of ostracism directed at himself and Erin - the only other like-minded individual in the hive-mind. The social neglect ranged anywhere from apathy to targeted attacks. Lewis Romero shouldering him hard into lockers as he passed him in the hallway. Ashley and Ashlyn whispering and laughing about him and Erin in classes. Colourful insults such as 'Fag' and ‘Fucking Queer’ thrown at him as he sat in the courtyard or walked to class. The organised barrage seemed to come from all angles. Except for one.

Kevin Fischer was very popular and very well-liked. He looked like he had just walked out of an after-school special and girls seemed to gravitate to him. Still, he was surprisingly intelligent and considerate. He seemed above the repetitive drivel of high school despite having the sense of humour of a sleazy, late-night talk show host. Kevin never went out of his way to hurt Ian. He didn't join in or laugh at the name-calling. In contrast, sometimes he would even sit with Ian to the chagrin of the rest of Kevin's clique. They'd talk about movies and school work and hell, maybe Ian even saw Kevin as a friend. Perhaps that was why he felt comfortable enough to invite Kevin to his house.

It had felt like less of a good idea when Kevin was actually there.

Ian lingered in the corner of his bedroom as he watched Kevin explore his belongings, trying to repress his discomfort. He almost felt sick watching Kevin run his soft fingertips across the spines of his books. Nauseous. His head felt as if it had been stuffed up with cotton, muffling all logical thought. He didn't quite understand what was happening to him. Maybe he should send Kevin home and get some rest? No. For some reason that felt so much worse.

"Oh, have you read this?" Kevin's voice clawed him back to reality. The jock was holding a book he'd pulled away from Ian's shelf in one hand and presenting the cover to Ian with a smile. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Ian nodded absently. Of course he'd read it. "I have to read it this year for Ms. Brook's English class," Kevin explained, glancing down at the book and leafing through carefully. When Ian didn't respond, Kevin frowned and glanced back over to him. "...You okay, man?"

A quiet confirmation hitched in Ian's throat as he stared back at Kevin. The light spilling in through his open window hit Kevin almost perfectly - surreal as a dream. What was wrong with him? He didn't like boys. Sure, the kids at school would throw homophobic insults over him like confetti, but he wasn't actually into that crap. So... Why did Kevin look so good? Why did Kevin's voice make him feel like his feet weren't touching the floor?

"I'm fine," He finally managed, shifting back to perch on the edge of his bed. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight. "Just... A little nauseous. I'll be fine."

He noticed Kevin's expression crease with concern, glancing away when Kevin set the book back in place and walked over to him. No, don't come closer. Kevin was beside him now, moving to sit next to Ian on top of the sheets. Ian heard the bed creak at Kevin's weight - all muscle - and quickly caught himself as the change almost threw him against Kevin's bicep. Now that Kevin was so close, Ian could smell the axe body spray clinging to Kevin's hoodie. It wasn't doing anything to help clear his head.

"You sure about that?" Kevin soothed in a calm, kind voice, blue eyes searching Ian's pallid face. Ian did his best to avoid eye contact. "You're looking pretty pale, Ian. Maybe... Maybe you should get some rest. We can hang out another day."

"No," Ian spoke up a little too quickly, head turning up towards Kevin. He could see the fresh, startled expression on Kevin's face. He spoke again, calmer this time. "No. I mean it - I'm fine." Please don't go.

Kevin was silent for a moment before sighing and nodding slowly. "Okay. Okay, I'm staying. Just tell me if you think you're going to puke or something, okay?" A faint smirk emphasised Kevin's joke. Ian mustered the normality to roll his eyes, shoving Kevin as the taller boy laughed. Kevin let out a sigh, crashing back onto Ian's bed before propping himself up on his elbows. "So what do you do for fun?"

Kevin's question fell on deaf ears as Ian tried to stop his eyes exploring up and down Kevin's stretched out body. Damn hormones. Kevin was well-built for his age, muscle swelling on his biceps and abs at the effort to hold the posture. He closed his eyes, eliminating the distraction entirely. "I-I don't know." What kind of an answer was that? There was silence for a moment before the sound of rustling sheets as Kevin returned to his previous sitting position.

"Ian, what's up with you today?" Kevin asked, voice a little more forceful than it had been previously while maintaining its caring edge. Ian blinked his eyes open, turning his head to look across at Kevin. Kevin raised his eyebrows slightly. He'd never seen this look in Ian before. Was it fear? Anxiety? Whatever it was, Ian was definitely uncomfortable with something. He sighed, reaching over and resting a hand on one of Ian's forearms. "You know you can tell me. Right?"

Kevin's touch on his arm was electric. Ian felt himself tense up at the contact, mouth feeling far too dry and - was he shaking? He could have sworn his hands were shaking. His dark eyes connected with Kevin's blue as he edged closer.

And then it happened.

Ian's dry, bitten lips brushed against Kevin's - pink and smooth - gently at first. Barely there. His body edged closer to Kevin's and then they were together, lips tepidly connecting as Ian's eyes fluttered closed. He could feel Kevin's hand jolt away from his arm in shock, fingertips ghosting the skin. Kevin didn't kiss him back but Ian barely noticed, thoughts running wild. He was kissing a boy. He was kissing a boy and he was enjoying it. Was he gay? How long had he been gay? The hurricane swept the inside of his skull as he tilted his head slightly into the kiss, leaning forward as he slowly realised that Kevin was pulling back.

Shit.

Ian relented, breaking away and hesitating to let his eyes fall open. As soon as they did, Ian regretted it. Kevin looked mortified. The jock's eyes were wide and glassy, face pale and contrasting against his kiss-bruised lips. Ian started to wish that he could just melt down into the ground and let it swallow him whole. Kevin pulled his lingering hand back completely, sitting straight as a flagpole as words faltered in his throat.

"I-I'm not..." Kevin started, eyes flitting away from Ian and training down on his hands. "...Gay. I'm not gay, Ian. Sorry if I was... Sending off mixed signals. Or whatever." Ian wanted to die in that moment. Just disappear. Anything to get him out of the personal Hell he'd created in that moment. Kevin noticed the horror in Ian's face and sighed, slowly getting to his feet. "I should... I should probably get home. I'll see you on Monday, McKinley."

McKinley. Kevin didn't call him McKinley. Kevin knew how much he hated the name McKinley.

He glanced up, a cry for Kevin to wait dying on arrival as Kevin sped towards the door of Ian's room, closing it firmly on exit and leaving Ian in total silence. Ian stared at the white-painted wooden door, not daring to move off his bed. He could hear his own heartbeat amplified and rapid inside his ribcage. Without the announcement of even a single quiet sob, Ian felt a tear track slowly down his smooth skin. He didn't know what else to do, so he pulled his legs up onto his bed, curled into a ball, and let himself cry until his head ached and throbbed.

What the fuck had he done?

___________________________________

Released from the memory and back behind the wheel of his van, Ian reached a hand to his face to brush away threatening tears. That was a memory he hadn't visited for a long time and he was starting to remember why. Fuck, he'd been such an idiot. No wonder his friendship with Kevin had deteriorated so quickly. He would still feel that same nausea now when he watched Kevin during gym or when Kevin raised his voice to answer a question in class. It hadn't gotten any better and it had ruined them. He had ruined them.

As if on cue, Kevin Fischer shouldered his way out of the station, head down as he jogged down the front steps in his typical McKinley letterman jacket. Kevin lifted his head once he reached the bottom and glanced around, looking for someone. Ian shrank down in the seat of his van, adjusting the grip on his wheel. He knew that Kevin was likely searching for Wendy Christensen but he couldn't be too careful. He watched as Kevin sighed, the jock turning his attention back towards the front of the station as he made the silent decision to wait.

An annoyingly vocal part of Ian's brain insisted that this could be it. Considering his plans for the Tricentennial later, this could be his last opportunity to talk to Kevin alone. Maybe apologise if an apology was due. Did he want to? No. The reluctance didn't stop him from pulling the van door open and stepping out into the parking lot.

As Ian approached Kevin, hands in his pockets, he found his voice. "Hey," He called, tone measured and flat. "Fischer."

Kevin jumped slightly at the sudden greeting, turning on his heel and frowning when he set eyes on Ian. "McKinley?" Kevin questioned. The name cut deep but Ian doubted if Kevin even realised he was using it, stopping a few feet away from Kevin. He could see Kevin's hesitation. What do you say to someone you hate after they've been through something like this? "Hey... How are you holding up, man?"

Ian narrowed his eyes slightly. 'Man'. Of course Kevin would try to boil this down to some kind of normality. No. He closed his eyes to block the thoughts out. This wasn't about himself or about Erin. "Just drop it," Ian dismissed the conversation entirely. "That's not what I came to talk about." He looked back up to see Kevin's face contort in quiet confusion.

"Okay then," Kevin spoke after a moment of silence, folding his arms and settling into a comfortable posture. "Then what did you come here to talk about?" Was there a right way to phrase this? There was no turning back now and Ian had started to regret approaching Kevin at all. Ian shuffled slightly, drawing in a long breath before deciding to just go for it. What was the worst thing that could happen?

"I was thinking about our old friendship," He started, keeping his voice neutral to keep himself from freaking out. "About how it kind of fell apart... It was because I kissed you, right?" Ian fell quiet, watching discomfort edge onto Kevin's face at the mention of the memory. He had been right. Ian tilted his head with rising annoyance. "Well, I'm sorry if that's what you wanted to hear. Real fucking sorry. It was a mistake, sure, but you had no reason to be such a two-faced asshole about it. Okay? Real shitty move you played there."

Kevin looked over Ian's quiet frustration as he tried to formulate the correct response. This was not what he had expected, but he supposed it had been coming. He thought about that kiss all the time. "It wasn't a mistake," Kevin offered after a while, voice almost too quiet to hear but Ian's frown confirmed it was heard. "And I'm sorry too. You just... You freaked me out, man. You can't just kiss someone like that." He bit the inside of his cheek as Ian looked down, the goth's gaze fixed on the cracks in the stone. Kevin hesitated before reaching a hand out, fingers ghosting over Ian's shoulder as he encouraged the boy to look back at him. "Hey..."

Ian felt Kevin's touch and tensed up. It dragged him straight back into the memory, the same sickness bubbling up inside him. The electricity. He wanted to pull away but he didn't, forcing his gaze back to Kevin instead. "I'm not gay," He spoke, the regular authoritative edge in his voice broken down into something softer. "I'm not." He hesitated to continue, Kevin's gentle blue eyes encouraging the words. "You just make me feel things. Things I don't fully understand and I hate it. I hate not being able to understand."

"You don't have to understand," Kevin shrugged slightly. "I didn't understand it either. I still don't understand why I regretted pulling away from you. I mean, it's been four years. You'd think we'd get a clue by now." He let out a short, breathy laugh to try and lighten the situation but Ian's lack of a response quickly killed it. "But... I am sorry for leaving you like that. I really miss hanging out with you, McKinley."

"Please," Ian muttered, closing his eyes again. "Just... Call me Ian. You know I hate McKinley. I always have." He could feel emotion choking up his insides again, repressed tears threatening as his beaten down voice cracked into a tremble. This was all too much for him. "And I don't understand why you stopped calling me Ian. But you did and I noticed and it hurt and-"

Ian was cut off when Kevin gently cupped his face in warm, calloused hands, pulling him forward into a firm kiss. Kevin's lips were soft and caring against his own, smooth against his rough skin. Ian let his eyes fall closed, releasing a sigh and leaning into the kiss. It was intoxicating, logical thought falling from his brain like water. He felt Kevin's strong arms move to wrap around his waist, his own skinny counterparts finding their place around Kevin's thick neck. He let Kevin control the kiss, dizzy and helpless to stop him. Teeth grazed lightly across his bottom lip and Ian parted them to take things further only for Kevin to move away.

Ian's eyes slid open, glazed as he stared back at Kevin. His skin was hot and flushed, quiet, involuntary pants escaping his lips. He saw Kevin smile, the jock peppering one last kiss to Ian's trembling lips before letting go of him.

"I'm pretty sure I owed you that," Kevin spoke up as Ian slowly released his neck. "...Ian." Kevin watched as a plethora of emotions flickered across Ian's stunned features, his smirk growing into a grin as he pulled the goth close to his chest in a crushing hug. Ian didn't seem to mind, eyes closed as his face pressed against Kevin's firm, toned shoulder.

The door of the police station pushed open behind them, Wendy slipping out and making her way down a few of the long stone steps before seeing the boys and freezing in place. She didn't know what to say. What was she supposed to say?

Despite everything, she managed a smile. She dodged past them in silence and made her way to her car, pulling out her phone and texting for Kevin to call her later. She didn't have the heart to interrupt the boys now. This seemed long overdue.

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So

That’s it.

Hope you managed to enjoy it lmao

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[kris-lemche-stan]

thoughts about Kevian?

IT’S CANON IN MY MIND! 😭💕

[kris-lemche-stan]

what are your favorite Kris photos?

The first two because his face looks like it was sculpted by Greek gods

The third and fourth because they’re absolutely adorable (I love seeing him with animals 😭)

The fifth was when I trapped this diva in my room and he gave me that look

The sixth because that dilf belly is sexy

The seventh because it feeds my Kevian heart

The eighth because it’s funny with those giant glasses 😭

The ninth because he is dressed like a superhero (so tiny I could fit him in my pocket)

The tenth, because what I wanted most was to see him following me 😭

THANK YOU FOR YOUR QUESTION, SWEETHEART! 💕