💥💊 @xronanlynch
kavinsky is walking.
he’s walking to ronan’s and he isn’t sure why, because it would be quicker to drive. maybe it’s because he doesn’t quite trust himself behind the wheel right now, and maybe it’s because for once in his life, kavinsky actually cares what might happen if he crashes. maybe he just needs a few minutes -- streetlights passing S L O W, the absence of a car’s engine creating SILENCE -- to prepare. because if kavinsky gets there, and lynch has changed his mind . . . it’ll be ugly. painful. almost unsurvivable. but he is prepared now; he doesn’t think it will be like last time.
he’s learned his lesson. when it comes to ronan lynch, kavinsky is always braced for impact.
because all ronan had said was come and get it and kavinsky had thought he should put up a fight even though they both knew who’d win, and then ronan had said please. there was no fighting that. K HATES it: hates how easy he is; how desperate. but fuck, it’s so easy to just give in. to text ronan back simply to say ok & leave his apartment without a moment’s hesistation. it’s a release, and if kavinsky can keep on feeling this relief that will be --- good.
he’s at ronan’s door and he’s knocked and this is it, the last moment to turn back though he knows he won’t. ronan takes his time answering but then he’s there and kavinsky realises he hasn’t planned this far ahead. “lynch.” mouth quirked into a smile, eyeing the other boy, cautious. god, ronan is wasted, but he looks so . . . kavinsky is looking at what he wants. maybe he should be more concerned about how drunk ronan is; how much will still be here once he’s sober -- but K figures if he sticks around he can argue any doubts ronan might wake up with. keep him drunk if that’s what it takes to make him want you, a small depraved part of his mind whispers. another part, that sounds oddly like liv, argues back: you’re better than that. K doesn’t know if that’s true. he guesses they’ll find out.
“what, we gonna stand here all night?” quickly, before he has the chance to DOUBT himself, kavinsky reaches out to take ronan’s hand, pulling himself closer with the momentum. fuck. fuck, this is weird. it’s just palms & wrists & curling fingers, and kavinsky knows he’s touched ronan’s hands before, but this is different, this is c l o s e r. “or are you gonna invite me in?”
