[ This isn't the energy he's come to expect, from Kavinsky. He's seen him down before, but there's always a dangerous edge to him when he's like that; there's always a level of manic chaos bubbling underneath the surface of the things he does, the things he says, and Derek doesn't really detect much of that here. Just a sad kid stuck in a room that needs to be aired out. It kind of throws him off, and he's not sure how to handle it. ]
So have I.
[ Derek's voice is as gentle as he knows how to make it. He steps further into the room and makes the slow, tentative decision to sit himself down on the foot of the bed, only a few inches away from Kavinsky. ]
I thought you liked being here. More than being at home, at least.
[There aren't a lot of people that have seen him without that edge. It's still there somewhere, but right now, he's fucking tired.]
I'm dead at home. So. Kind of the only option, right?
[Kavinsky lolls his head to look at Derek as the bed dips under his weight. Has he ever told Derek that before? He doesn't think so, but let's face it, he's been killing brain cells for years so it's possible he did. He looks up at the ceiling again and pushes his fingers through his hair, gripping tight for a second before he lets his arms flop above his head.]
This place fucking sucks. We can't fucking go anywhere.
[He's run out of road. The only place he can really feel free is in his dreams, and he fucked that up, too. At least Derek didn't see him hurling up black bile or whatever in the middle of a sidewalk.]
[ It's news to Derek that Kavinsky passed back home, but - in all honesty, it doesn't shock him. On the contrary, it... makes a few things make sense, actually. His relationship with Tate that Derek never fully understood, the complete disregard to his own safety, a million other little things - this just adds another layer of sympathy to his relationship with Joey that wasn't there before, and Derek's opinion of him shifts again. Another reason to give this kid the benefit of the doubt. Another reason to trust someone who might just be the wrong person to trust.
There's a stretch of silence punctuated only by the sound of Derek scratching at his beard and shifting his position on the bed to get a tiny, miniscule amount more comfortable. He looks down at Kavinsky, leaning back on his hands. ]
Anywhere. When Henrietta was fuck off boring, I could just get in the Evo and go. Charlotte, D.C., Philly, New York. Think we ended up in Chicago one time.
[But he had the freedom to do it. All he needed was a direction and gas, and neither of those were ever a problem. He never disappeared for long, he always rolled back into that sleepy little Virginia town, but he at least knew he could leave.
Kavinsky reaches until his fingers brush over his cigarette case. He pulls it closer, but he doesn't open it yet. He can't decide what he wants and he kind of needs to figure that out before he goes looking for it.]
Someone from Aglionby told me my first year here. Just rolled up on me like aren't you dead?
[Which kind of suggests Kavinsky didn't know his fate until then. He had an idea. He remembers where his head was going. He remembers what he had in mind. But knowing that it happened was... weird. Especially when he realized Adam and Noah fucking knew.
None of this really fucking matters. Given Derek's penchance for silence, maybe he's just talking to fill the void. ]
[ Derek winces a little, not sure what to say - there are some pretty fucked up ways to learn that you've died back home, but having the news delivered with the casual, irritating arrogance of a teenage boy can't have been easy. He sighs, watching Kavinsky play with his cigarette case, wondering if he should stop him - on the one hand, he thinks that if this is Kavinsky's second chance at life, he should be trying harder to make it matter, but on the other...
On the other, fuck, there's a difference between trying to stop Kavinsky from drugging people at his parties and self-medicating when he's in grief. Maybe Derek should just focus on being here and trying to make him feel better. Maybe that's a better way to make the world softer than by doing what he's doing these last few months - relying on Kavinsky for rough, fierce fucks and stringing him along because he can't just commit to saying he cares about him.
There's a bit of a delay, and then Derek's reaching out, resting a hand against Kavinsky's thigh. With Stiles being back, Derek feels luckier to be here than he ever has, and maybe that's contributing to the guilt he feels for not saying enough to make things easier for Kavinsky right now. Derek gently squeezes Kavinsky's leg, trying to show some measure of silent reassurance. ]
... I was seeing this woman, once. I was fifteen - she was in her twenties.
[ Derek hesitates, then takes back his hand. ]
She killed my family. Boarded up the house, trapped everyone inside, lit it on fire. Ten people died. Kids, some of them.
[ A pause. ]
If this is your second chance at life, and - you're having a hard time, or you're burning out - then tell me what I can do to help. Second chances should be... better.
[It's not like he doesn't get anything out of the rough fucks. He must, otherwise he wouldn't keep answering when Derek texts or calls. Kavinsky is pretty sure that, at the base of it all, that's all this is. It's only a matter of time before Derek stops. It's only a matter of time before Joey becomes a weapon, or worse, just disappears from Derek's vocabulary.
He hates this feeling. This heaviness in his chest. And he fucking hates thinking about anything this hard. His jaw tenses when the warm weight of Derek's hand slides over his leg and squeezes.]
Fuck that bitch.
[There's probably something better he could say, something that gets across what he's feeling better, but that's what he's got. Maybe he hasn't lost family like that, but he never really had it to begin with, did he? And when his life went up in flames, he was the one holding the match.
He tears his gaze away from the ceiling and he looks at Derek. Kavinsky's eyes are dark and hollow and lucid.]
Shitty place for second chances, huh?
[He doesn't know how to do this. But he wants something and he wants it so bad that it hurts.
Kavinsky moves. He forces himself up like he's pulling free of something and a breath later he's straddling Derek's legs. He knows what would be easy. He could probably ask Derek to fuck him into oblivion and he'd be alright for a while.
Months on and he still thinks of spending the full moon with this asshole.]
[ Contrary to what Kavinsky might be thinking, there's actually something decidedly refreshing about the Kate Argent Thing being met with an easy, solid fuck that bitch. Derek doesn't share things from his past very easily - to the point that even after knowing Kavinsky for two years, referencing her at all feels like it's happening way too soon - but the few times it's come out, people have either pitied him or accused him of deserving what happened to him, as if by merit of being a werewolf alone, he lost his right to live safely. It's nice to just hear... detached, easy anger. Derek appreciates that.
He can tell Kavinsky's about to move before it even happens. It's in his eyes, in the way he looks at Derek, and Derek, face impassive, wonders if he should put a stop to it before it starts. Instead, he just - answers, quietly, waiting for Kavinsky to make his move. ]
It's not all bad. The people I meet here are kind. Kinder than I'm used to. Almost makes it worthwhile, even when they end up leaving.
[ And then Kavinsky's straddling him, his weight against his lap, and Derek's bracing his hand on the bed for support, staying where he is. He's... getting used to being careful with his words, saying what he needs to say to avoid sounding like he's rejecting people too afraid of rejection to be able to handle it when it comes their way, but he's still worried Kavinsky's going to take what he says next as Derek blindly shooting him down. He holds eye contact, tries to speak softly. ]
We don't have to do this. You don't have to just... be distracted, all the time. There are other ways to handle being hurt.
[Maybe it'd sting other people more to hear that. Maybe he's just beyond that kind of sensitivity right now. Numb with it. Kavinsky bumps his forehead against Derek's, invading his space more. He grins and nothing is funny.]
Is this when you suggest talking it out?
[Because that is hilarious, right? From this person in particular?
What does Derek want him to do? Sit with his feelings? Figure out where they're coming from? Have a break through? There's nothing to be done about any of it. Kavinsky sits back like he's moving through water, slow and loose and depending on a buoyancy that's not there to support him.
Maybe distractionis a bandaid, but at least it's something he chooses.]
[ Derek is mildly annoyed by Kavinsky's attitude, but no more than he ever is. He slips his hand around his waist and holds his lower back, keeping him pinned to his lap, half to keep him from leaving before he really thinks through what Derek is saying, and half just to stop him from falling backwards if he decides he doesn't care enough to stay steady. ]
Yeah.
[ He arches his eyebrows, looks at Kavinsky, gives him a long, hard stare. He's not an idiot - there's nobody in this city half as emotionally constipated as Derek Fucking Hale, of course he knows that - but that's not going to stop him from trying to do the right thing. ]
It could help. Talking. Distractions haven't helped in the past. Not long term. You always end up needing them again.
[He's skeptical. He's been to therapy and clearly that took well. Kavinsky pushes his fingers through his hair and rolls his head back. Jesus. He didn't even really have expectations when he told Derek to come over. If sex happens, awesome. And if it doesn't... he's not sure he cares? Because Derek is here and that's what he wanted. Everything after that is extra.
One hand slides down to rub across his cheek. He doesn't know if he's ever felt this tired in his life and he's someone who has stayed up for days. Kavinsky finally returns his gaze to Derek's face.]
What am I supposed to talk about? Gerry's gone and it fucking sucks.
Maybe. Airing a wound. Preventing infection. Could help. That's all I'm saying.
[ He's a hypocrite and a liar, unsure if he believes his own advice, but Derek is parroting back something he's at least attempted to learn over the years. He doesn't think he's half as reclusive and damaged as he was before he arrived in Duplicity, and if he's wrong about that, well - at least talking as little as he has has given him the illusion of growth. A victory either way.
Derek watches Kavinsky in silence, unwilling to prompt him and lead Kavinsky into digging into the veins of what he's going through that hurt too much to bring them up, but soon realizing that if he doesn't, they're not going to get anywhere at all. He darts his tongue between his lips, runs his fingertips in minimal strokes against Kavinsky's back. ]
[Not that he has much left to cut off, in that regard. He looks away as Derek prompts him.]
Why? He was a sub. He was some goth guy that had a cat. We contracted because we both needed someone and I was running out of time and he was all fucked up about his last Dom.
[And Gerry was, probably, one of the few remaining people in this fucking city that seemed to give a shit. Most of them are gone. The rest have other people and he knows exactly where he ranks on most lists. Somewhere between dirty secret and guilty pleasure.]
[ It matters to Derek, obviously, who frowns when Kavinsky starts pushing back. He reaches up, hits him on the shoulder with the heel of his palm, aggressive in as friendly a way as aggression can be. Again, he's pumping his eyebrows up, staring at Kavinsky, mildly irritated and staring at him like he's expecting more. ]
Had to be more to you than just some goth guy with a cat.
[ Derek's probably contributed to the problem Kavinsky's dealing with, being one of the people in his life treating him like a secret - but like Kavinsky thought earlier, at least he came when he was called. That has to make up, at least in part, for how annoying he's being now. ]
Did he? [He huffs a laugh, more like a forced breath.] He's just the latest in a line.
[And it's own fucking fault for letting himself have any sentiment or expectation or, God forbid, hope. All of that is pointless here, and it's just been proven over and over again.]
I'll find another sub, and I'm sure they'll fuck off at the end of their contract, too.
[Because he can't keep anyone here. He can't make it work the way he did in Henriette and he has no other way to build relationships. The thing he had going for him back there was there was nowhere else to fucking go. Three of the subs he had already had their eye on someone else before the contracts even ran out. He eases lower again, bracing one hand against Derek's shoulder so he doesn't just run into him.]
There is obviously nothing here worth hanging around for.
[ This is a hard conversation for Derek to have, given that he was largely the catalyst for one of Kavinsky's contracts ending early - which he doesn't feel bad about, exactly, and thinking about it, if anything, makes him second guess why he's trying to help Kavinsky out in the first place, but. Either way, he doesn't have the right to comfort Kavinsky about that, nor does he really have the right to criticize him and ask him if maybe he's the reason why people keep leaving. All Derek does is keep his eyes open, focused and unblinking, listening to Kavinsky talk until he finds the opportunity to say whatever scrap of advice he can say. ]
Contracts aren't important. They're just... a way of keeping us tied to the city. They're not real. Breaking your contract with someone doesn't have to be... personal.
[ He drops both hands away from Kavinsky, holding them squarely on the mattress behind him instead, spreading his legs a little to make his lap a more comfortable seat. ]
Look at us. We're not in a contract - we've never been in a contract - and we still spend time together.
You know what it's like to have someone that's yours?
[Maybe it sounds like a radical change of subject, but whatever. It's not. Not really. He doesn't say more, though, just takes his weight off Derek's shoulder and sits back again. He can't stay still.]
I know. Tried to hook up one that was pure business, but that didn't pan out.
[Before he hooked Gerry, he'd gone on a date - or something like it - with Morrigan. That would've been a solid arrangement: separate living, contractual obligations, done. Everything else felt messy. Everything else had been with someone he wanted for one reason or another. Even Gerry, in the end. But he's not going to try to keep someone that's already halfway out the door.]
Whatever, I'll hit the network in a month or so and see what pops up. Maybe I'll just play roulette with the city and let them pick one.
[ Again, Derek thinks of Stiles, choosing to say nothing in response to Kavinsky's question. It just feels... privileged and selfish and shitty to say something like "being in a contract with someone doesn't make them yours", when every contract he's been in for the past two years has either been possessive or romantic. Kavinsky's not doing it on purpose, but shit, he's just really making Derek feel like a dick today. ]
Don't leave it up to chance. Don't give LIES any more power over you than it already has.
[ There's a pause, here, while Derek looks at Kavinsky and tries to figure out the kind of damage he might do asking this next question. ]
Have you ever... tried to make things better between you and the kids you know from home?
[ Noah's basically the only one Derek knows, but - he knows about that whole little unit. ]
[Maybe this is why it's better not to let Kavinsky talk.]
No. [He doesn't even really hesitate.] Me and Adam...
[He trails off, pushes down whatever he was thinking or, worse, about to say.]
They aren't interested and neither am I.
[The closest he is to anything like that right now is the fact that Ronan is around fairly frequently. It's not a secret that he hangs around here, but he's also pretty sure neither Adam nor Noah are particularly thrilled about that. Adam hasn't spoken to him since he reappeared, remembering nothing, and that's probably for the best. Kavinsky hasn't exactly reached out to him, either.]
[ Derek doesn't hide the fact that he's curious about what Kavinsky was about to say - me and Adam - watching him expectantly like he thinks there's still a chance he'll finish the thought. When it doesn't come, Derek exhales softly, letting it go. Still wants to know, though. ]
Why not? Connections to home are hard to come by here. Maybe fixing whatever happened between all of you could be what you need to feel like this second chance is worth it.
[ Or something. What the fuck would he know. Derek's confidence falters a little, and he laughs, humorless and sharp. Fucking hell, nevermind. ]
Then again, I'm a hypocrite, so - you probably shouldn't listen to me. I wouldn't be interested in reuniting with most people from Beacon Hills, either.
I'm the bad guy, babe. Pretty sure they're all happy that I stay that way.
[Kavinsky doesn't think there's any fixing that. Ronan was the only one ever interested in Henrietta and that was fine. He didn't want anyone else. But God, it felt so fucking good to see Dick Gansey with that submissive line on his throat. He disappeared forever ago, but Kavinsky holds on to that memory.]
Some people just don't matter. [He's not quite saying that in his voice: he's clearly doing an impression of someone. He laughs.] Ronan hangs around, that's fine.
[That's all he needs. Maybe knowing he died mellowed Kavinsky's obsession out. Maybe he just found something else while Ronan wasn't here. He thinks of Adam again, and he thinks of Derek, and for a few seconds he hates both of them all over again.]
[ Derek's quiet, listening as he tends to do, silent and far away. The more Kavinsky talks, the more he realizes that there's just so much about this kid he doesn't know. Whenever they talk like this, Derek gets some insight into his life back home that he didn't have before, and it paints a clearer, more stable picture of who he was before Duplicity. It's never anything good. ]
You don't have to be a bad guy, you know. You're not defined by the mistakes you've made, or - the shit you've been through. You're just... fucked up. That can be fixed.
[ Whether or not Kavinsky thinks so, Derek believes that everything has the innate potential to change and improve. He leans back on his hands, watches Kavinsky in silence for a few seconds longer, and maintains eye contact when he asks what he thinks he might need to ask. If Kavinsky thinks he's this unforgivable, unchanging monster, he's killing whatever chance he might have to grow, so. Derek's gotta help him work on that the way people helped him. ]
[The deflection is probably as revealing as anything else. There's something hollow in the way Kavinsky looks at Derek. Then he rolls his eyes and looks away, jaw going tense and relaxing. What does it matter? Derek has been looking for a reason to kill him for like a year, right?
Why the fuck not.]
My dad, [he says after a moment.] Illy.
[That second one is questionable, but whatever. It's his fault. He's the reason.]
[ Derek expected Kavinsky to get defensive, but he wasn't sure if he would answer him in spite of that. When he does, Derek tries to make it clear that he's not asking to be... cruel, or critical, or anything. His fingers graze over the small of Kavinsky's back then move inwards, resting his hands on his thighs, just trying to communicate some measure of calm through soft touch alone. ]
Killing has been...
[ Unavoidable, he wants to say, but he hesitates and changes his mind at the last second. He made a choice, when he killed his uncle. Made choices that led to Paige's death. Boyd's. Erica's. Laura's. Derek shakes his head, walks down a different road. ]
I've killed. People I loved. People I didn't. Sometimes intentionally. Sometimes not. It's been - a big part of who I am. For a long time.
[ And he doesn't think that makes him a monster, or - unforgivable, or whatever, and he doesn't know if that's something Kavinsky feels about himself, or not, but he wants to at least put it out there that he gets it if he does. Sometimes he thinks Kavinsky cares about that shit. Sometimes he thinks Kavinsky doesn't give a fuck who he hurts, or how badly he hurts them, and doesn't think that reflects on him as a person at all. That grey area is what makes it hard for Derek to commit to expressing his point. ]
[Kavinsky isn't a fucking werewolf, though. Something in him goes dull when Derek asks about that name. That boy. Kavinsky rubs his hand along his face and he tries to remember if he's ever spoken this name out loud to Derek before.]
Prokopenko. He was my friend.
[If he thinks too long and too hard, he might call Prokopenko his only friend. He had his boys, but he kind of collected them because Proko had them first. And for as long as Kavinsky has been here, he's missed that stupid boy like a limb. Like some essential organ. He noticed its absence every time he opened his eyes.
And he's been tempted, so many times, to bring him back here like he did in Henrietta. Just to feel him again.]
[ Derek knows shreds of information about Prokopenko - that he was Kavinsky's best friend, that Kavinsky saw him die, that there was an overdose, or something. That they kissed, that they fought. It's new information that he was responsible for his death, but it doesn't really change Derek's point. Only cements it, if anything. ]
You're smart. Smart enough to see how this shit screwed you up. Losing your best friend, growing up with an asshole like your father - that leaves scars. Damage like that can make someone do bad things.
[ He's being preachy and sanctimonious, and he's really not going to be shocked if Kavinsky ends up just kicking him out and choosing to get high, but Derek's changed enough times in his life to want to say something. Christ knows nobody else in Kavinsky's life cares about him enough to try and help. ]
You can change, if you want to. That's all I'm saying. If you're worried that people are leaving you because you're not... enough, or if you're worried that you're stuck in this bad guy image forever - things can be done. No matter how irredeemable you might think you are.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
So have I.
[ Derek's voice is as gentle as he knows how to make it. He steps further into the room and makes the slow, tentative decision to sit himself down on the foot of the bed, only a few inches away from Kavinsky. ]
I thought you liked being here. More than being at home, at least.
no subject
I'm dead at home. So. Kind of the only option, right?
[Kavinsky lolls his head to look at Derek as the bed dips under his weight. Has he ever told Derek that before? He doesn't think so, but let's face it, he's been killing brain cells for years so it's possible he did. He looks up at the ceiling again and pushes his fingers through his hair, gripping tight for a second before he lets his arms flop above his head.]
This place fucking sucks. We can't fucking go anywhere.
[He's run out of road. The only place he can really feel free is in his dreams, and he fucked that up, too. At least Derek didn't see him hurling up black bile or whatever in the middle of a sidewalk.]
no subject
There's a stretch of silence punctuated only by the sound of Derek scratching at his beard and shifting his position on the bed to get a tiny, miniscule amount more comfortable. He looks down at Kavinsky, leaning back on his hands. ]
Where would you want to go?
no subject
[But he had the freedom to do it. All he needed was a direction and gas, and neither of those were ever a problem. He never disappeared for long, he always rolled back into that sleepy little Virginia town, but he at least knew he could leave.
Kavinsky reaches until his fingers brush over his cigarette case. He pulls it closer, but he doesn't open it yet. He can't decide what he wants and he kind of needs to figure that out before he goes looking for it.]
Someone from Aglionby told me my first year here. Just rolled up on me like aren't you dead?
[Which kind of suggests Kavinsky didn't know his fate until then. He had an idea. He remembers where his head was going. He remembers what he had in mind. But knowing that it happened was... weird. Especially when he realized Adam and Noah fucking knew.
None of this really fucking matters. Given Derek's penchance for silence, maybe he's just talking to fill the void. ]
no subject
On the other, fuck, there's a difference between trying to stop Kavinsky from drugging people at his parties and self-medicating when he's in grief. Maybe Derek should just focus on being here and trying to make him feel better. Maybe that's a better way to make the world softer than by doing what he's doing these last few months - relying on Kavinsky for rough, fierce fucks and stringing him along because he can't just commit to saying he cares about him.
There's a bit of a delay, and then Derek's reaching out, resting a hand against Kavinsky's thigh. With Stiles being back, Derek feels luckier to be here than he ever has, and maybe that's contributing to the guilt he feels for not saying enough to make things easier for Kavinsky right now. Derek gently squeezes Kavinsky's leg, trying to show some measure of silent reassurance. ]
... I was seeing this woman, once. I was fifteen - she was in her twenties.
[ Derek hesitates, then takes back his hand. ]
She killed my family. Boarded up the house, trapped everyone inside, lit it on fire. Ten people died. Kids, some of them.
[ A pause. ]
If this is your second chance at life, and - you're having a hard time, or you're burning out - then tell me what I can do to help. Second chances should be... better.
no subject
He hates this feeling. This heaviness in his chest. And he fucking hates thinking about anything this hard. His jaw tenses when the warm weight of Derek's hand slides over his leg and squeezes.]
Fuck that bitch.
[There's probably something better he could say, something that gets across what he's feeling better, but that's what he's got. Maybe he hasn't lost family like that, but he never really had it to begin with, did he? And when his life went up in flames, he was the one holding the match.
He tears his gaze away from the ceiling and he looks at Derek. Kavinsky's eyes are dark and hollow and lucid.]
Shitty place for second chances, huh?
[He doesn't know how to do this. But he wants something and he wants it so bad that it hurts.
Kavinsky moves. He forces himself up like he's pulling free of something and a breath later he's straddling Derek's legs. He knows what would be easy. He could probably ask Derek to fuck him into oblivion and he'd be alright for a while.
Months on and he still thinks of spending the full moon with this asshole.]
no subject
He can tell Kavinsky's about to move before it even happens. It's in his eyes, in the way he looks at Derek, and Derek, face impassive, wonders if he should put a stop to it before it starts. Instead, he just - answers, quietly, waiting for Kavinsky to make his move. ]
It's not all bad. The people I meet here are kind. Kinder than I'm used to. Almost makes it worthwhile, even when they end up leaving.
[ And then Kavinsky's straddling him, his weight against his lap, and Derek's bracing his hand on the bed for support, staying where he is. He's... getting used to being careful with his words, saying what he needs to say to avoid sounding like he's rejecting people too afraid of rejection to be able to handle it when it comes their way, but he's still worried Kavinsky's going to take what he says next as Derek blindly shooting him down. He holds eye contact, tries to speak softly. ]
We don't have to do this. You don't have to just... be distracted, all the time. There are other ways to handle being hurt.
no subject
Is this when you suggest talking it out?
[Because that is hilarious, right? From this person in particular?
What does Derek want him to do? Sit with his feelings? Figure out where they're coming from? Have a break through? There's nothing to be done about any of it. Kavinsky sits back like he's moving through water, slow and loose and depending on a buoyancy that's not there to support him.
Maybe distractionis a bandaid, but at least it's something he chooses.]
no subject
Yeah.
[ He arches his eyebrows, looks at Kavinsky, gives him a long, hard stare. He's not an idiot - there's nobody in this city half as emotionally constipated as Derek Fucking Hale, of course he knows that - but that's not going to stop him from trying to do the right thing. ]
It could help. Talking. Distractions haven't helped in the past. Not long term. You always end up needing them again.
no subject
[He's skeptical. He's been to therapy and clearly that took well. Kavinsky pushes his fingers through his hair and rolls his head back. Jesus. He didn't even really have expectations when he told Derek to come over. If sex happens, awesome. And if it doesn't... he's not sure he cares? Because Derek is here and that's what he wanted. Everything after that is extra.
One hand slides down to rub across his cheek. He doesn't know if he's ever felt this tired in his life and he's someone who has stayed up for days. Kavinsky finally returns his gaze to Derek's face.]
What am I supposed to talk about? Gerry's gone and it fucking sucks.
no subject
[ He's a hypocrite and a liar, unsure if he believes his own advice, but Derek is parroting back something he's at least attempted to learn over the years. He doesn't think he's half as reclusive and damaged as he was before he arrived in Duplicity, and if he's wrong about that, well - at least talking as little as he has has given him the illusion of growth. A victory either way.
Derek watches Kavinsky in silence, unwilling to prompt him and lead Kavinsky into digging into the veins of what he's going through that hurt too much to bring them up, but soon realizing that if he doesn't, they're not going to get anywhere at all. He darts his tongue between his lips, runs his fingertips in minimal strokes against Kavinsky's back. ]
Tell me about him.
no subject
[Not that he has much left to cut off, in that regard. He looks away as Derek prompts him.]
Why? He was a sub. He was some goth guy that had a cat. We contracted because we both needed someone and I was running out of time and he was all fucked up about his last Dom.
[And Gerry was, probably, one of the few remaining people in this fucking city that seemed to give a shit. Most of them are gone. The rest have other people and he knows exactly where he ranks on most lists. Somewhere between dirty secret and guilty pleasure.]
It doesn't fucking matter.
[Talking about people doesn't bring them back.]
no subject
Had to be more to you than just some goth guy with a cat.
[ Derek's probably contributed to the problem Kavinsky's dealing with, being one of the people in his life treating him like a secret - but like Kavinsky thought earlier, at least he came when he was called. That has to make up, at least in part, for how annoying he's being now. ]
no subject
Did he? [He huffs a laugh, more like a forced breath.] He's just the latest in a line.
[And it's own fucking fault for letting himself have any sentiment or expectation or, God forbid, hope. All of that is pointless here, and it's just been proven over and over again.]
I'll find another sub, and I'm sure they'll fuck off at the end of their contract, too.
[Because he can't keep anyone here. He can't make it work the way he did in Henriette and he has no other way to build relationships. The thing he had going for him back there was there was nowhere else to fucking go. Three of the subs he had already had their eye on someone else before the contracts even ran out. He eases lower again, bracing one hand against Derek's shoulder so he doesn't just run into him.]
There is obviously nothing here worth hanging around for.
[And it's fine. Whatever. He'll fucking live.]
no subject
Contracts aren't important. They're just... a way of keeping us tied to the city. They're not real. Breaking your contract with someone doesn't have to be... personal.
[ He drops both hands away from Kavinsky, holding them squarely on the mattress behind him instead, spreading his legs a little to make his lap a more comfortable seat. ]
Look at us. We're not in a contract - we've never been in a contract - and we still spend time together.
no subject
[Maybe it sounds like a radical change of subject, but whatever. It's not. Not really. He doesn't say more, though, just takes his weight off Derek's shoulder and sits back again. He can't stay still.]
I know. Tried to hook up one that was pure business, but that didn't pan out.
[Before he hooked Gerry, he'd gone on a date - or something like it - with Morrigan. That would've been a solid arrangement: separate living, contractual obligations, done. Everything else felt messy. Everything else had been with someone he wanted for one reason or another. Even Gerry, in the end. But he's not going to try to keep someone that's already halfway out the door.]
Whatever, I'll hit the network in a month or so and see what pops up. Maybe I'll just play roulette with the city and let them pick one.
no subject
Don't leave it up to chance. Don't give LIES any more power over you than it already has.
[ There's a pause, here, while Derek looks at Kavinsky and tries to figure out the kind of damage he might do asking this next question. ]
Have you ever... tried to make things better between you and the kids you know from home?
[ Noah's basically the only one Derek knows, but - he knows about that whole little unit. ]
no subject
No. [He doesn't even really hesitate.] Me and Adam...
[He trails off, pushes down whatever he was thinking or, worse, about to say.]
They aren't interested and neither am I.
[The closest he is to anything like that right now is the fact that Ronan is around fairly frequently. It's not a secret that he hangs around here, but he's also pretty sure neither Adam nor Noah are particularly thrilled about that. Adam hasn't spoken to him since he reappeared, remembering nothing, and that's probably for the best. Kavinsky hasn't exactly reached out to him, either.]
no subject
Why not? Connections to home are hard to come by here. Maybe fixing whatever happened between all of you could be what you need to feel like this second chance is worth it.
[ Or something. What the fuck would he know. Derek's confidence falters a little, and he laughs, humorless and sharp. Fucking hell, nevermind. ]
Then again, I'm a hypocrite, so - you probably shouldn't listen to me. I wouldn't be interested in reuniting with most people from Beacon Hills, either.
no subject
[Kavinsky doesn't think there's any fixing that. Ronan was the only one ever interested in Henrietta and that was fine. He didn't want anyone else. But God, it felt so fucking good to see Dick Gansey with that submissive line on his throat. He disappeared forever ago, but Kavinsky holds on to that memory.]
Some people just don't matter. [He's not quite saying that in his voice: he's clearly doing an impression of someone. He laughs.] Ronan hangs around, that's fine.
[That's all he needs. Maybe knowing he died mellowed Kavinsky's obsession out. Maybe he just found something else while Ronan wasn't here. He thinks of Adam again, and he thinks of Derek, and for a few seconds he hates both of them all over again.]
no subject
You don't have to be a bad guy, you know. You're not defined by the mistakes you've made, or - the shit you've been through. You're just... fucked up. That can be fixed.
[ Whether or not Kavinsky thinks so, Derek believes that everything has the innate potential to change and improve. He leans back on his hands, watches Kavinsky in silence for a few seconds longer, and maintains eye contact when he asks what he thinks he might need to ask. If Kavinsky thinks he's this unforgivable, unchanging monster, he's killing whatever chance he might have to grow, so. Derek's gotta help him work on that the way people helped him. ]
Did you kill anyone back home?
no subject
[The deflection is probably as revealing as anything else. There's something hollow in the way Kavinsky looks at Derek. Then he rolls his eyes and looks away, jaw going tense and relaxing. What does it matter? Derek has been looking for a reason to kill him for like a year, right?
Why the fuck not.]
My dad, [he says after a moment.] Illy.
[That second one is questionable, but whatever. It's his fault. He's the reason.]
no subject
Killing has been...
[ Unavoidable, he wants to say, but he hesitates and changes his mind at the last second. He made a choice, when he killed his uncle. Made choices that led to Paige's death. Boyd's. Erica's. Laura's. Derek shakes his head, walks down a different road. ]
I've killed. People I loved. People I didn't. Sometimes intentionally. Sometimes not. It's been - a big part of who I am. For a long time.
[ And he doesn't think that makes him a monster, or - unforgivable, or whatever, and he doesn't know if that's something Kavinsky feels about himself, or not, but he wants to at least put it out there that he gets it if he does. Sometimes he thinks Kavinsky cares about that shit. Sometimes he thinks Kavinsky doesn't give a fuck who he hurts, or how badly he hurts them, and doesn't think that reflects on him as a person at all. That grey area is what makes it hard for Derek to commit to expressing his point. ]
Who was Illy?
no subject
Prokopenko. He was my friend.
[If he thinks too long and too hard, he might call Prokopenko his only friend. He had his boys, but he kind of collected them because Proko had them first. And for as long as Kavinsky has been here, he's missed that stupid boy like a limb. Like some essential organ. He noticed its absence every time he opened his eyes.
And he's been tempted, so many times, to bring him back here like he did in Henrietta. Just to feel him again.]
no subject
You're smart. Smart enough to see how this shit screwed you up. Losing your best friend, growing up with an asshole like your father - that leaves scars. Damage like that can make someone do bad things.
[ He's being preachy and sanctimonious, and he's really not going to be shocked if Kavinsky ends up just kicking him out and choosing to get high, but Derek's changed enough times in his life to want to say something. Christ knows nobody else in Kavinsky's life cares about him enough to try and help. ]
You can change, if you want to. That's all I'm saying. If you're worried that people are leaving you because you're not... enough, or if you're worried that you're stuck in this bad guy image forever - things can be done. No matter how irredeemable you might think you are.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)