[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.
You wanna hear about my mom, too? Oh, how about the first time I tried to have sex? That is an awesome fucking story.
[He's done the therapy thing and he is not fucking interested. Especially if it involves a positive-change lecture by Derek fucking Hale. And he sure as fuck does not want to talk about how he feels about himself.
His gaze lands on Derek again, a little more intense this time.]
You wanna know what I did? I brought both of them back. Even after mom dragged me out to bumfuck Virginia, my dad was still back in New Jersey doing his shit and sending money. And no one ever knew Proko was gone.
[ Ah, man, the walls are up. Derek, if anything, just looks disappointed by the added layer of hostility Kavinsky's giving him. It's already taking a lot of conscious effort to try and help Kavinsky through his shit instead of doing his usual shtick of lambasting him for being a dangerous asshole, always acting like he's the only person in the world who's ever felt angry or grief-stricken. The defensive attempts to shock Derek won't help either of them.
Derek chooses to just reply quickly and quietly, still holding eye contact. ]
Doesn't sound like you're happy with the choices you've made.
[God he's so fucking tired. Kavinsky covers his face for a second, lets himself close his eyes. And he just fucking stays like that for a few seconds, trying to focus on the places Derek is touching him. He doesn't want to deal with any of this. And he's pretty sure Derek has no idea how much he fucks him up every time he comes around.
He drops his hands so he can look at Derek again.]
Are any of us?
[Yeah, he's sure there are people who are thrilled with their lives. Good for them. Kavinsky doesn't regret killing his father. That was terrifying and cathartic. But, he doesn't want to wallow in that memory, either. He wants to be in oblivion. He wants to be in a place where he feels like he has control.
He knows it's probably not going to go anywhere, but he slides his hands along Derek's jaw and kisses him.]
[ Derek is passive, when it comes to the kiss. He doesn't shoot Kavinsky down or turn him away, but he doesn't put the same raw energy into it that he has the last few times they've hooked up. He parts his lips, gives Kavinsky access to his tongue, tilts his chin up to let Kavinsky do what he likes to him - but it's very disconnected. When they break away, Derek still just seems disappointed with where this is going.
He doesn't want to contribute to Kavinsky's loneliness, doesn't want to make him go through another rejection so soon after losing another sub, but with how often they've skirted the line of genuinely giving at least a tenth of a fuck about one another, Derek feels pretty guilty about all the rough, regrettable hookups and stupid choices they've both made. Feels like they could fall back into a pretty toxic pattern while Kavinsky's at a low point.
He wants to help Kavinsky feel better. But - ]
... if you're just going to self-destruct when I leave, there's no point in doing this. I don't want to just - be a distraction. I want to help.
[The passivity makes Kavinsky's stomach drop. He pulls away faster than he might have otherwise, because that is something he can't handle. Not when the person he's with is wide awake. What is so damn wrong with how they've been? It's been good, right? They both get something out of it. He doesn't regret anything.
As much as he wants the physical contact, Kavinsky forces himself to move. He gets off of Derek and sits on the bed again. He taps his thumb against his knee, something more subtle than bouncing his leg. He really doesn't want to have a fucking break down in front of anyone.]
You do.
[Even if Derek thinks all this shit is toxic, it means something to him.]
[ It's starting to matter to Derek, this fear that he'll somehow make things worse for Kavinsky than he already has. The quick, immediate retraction does more to convince Derek to commit to this than anything else would have. One deep breath later, one long exhale later, and Derek's made the decision to just - try to help however he can. Clearly talking hasn't done shit. ]
Okay.
[ He stands, now that he has the space. He looks to Kavinsky's drawer, to his wardrobe, plays with the idea of finding some rope, tying Kavinsky down, taking his control and making him frustrated enough through whatever Derek might do to him so he can work out some of this anger by kicking at his restraints and telling Derek to just let him come already. He looks back at Kavinsky, though, and just - ]
Okay. Fine.
[ - just decides that he might need to connect with someone, for a while, even if that someone has to be Derek. Derek drops back onto bed, straddling Kavinsky's hips and pinning him down to the mattress with his waist, and the kiss he gives him this time is better, more alive, than the last. He holds Kavinsky by the chin and keeps him steady while he leans in, bites at his bottom lip, demands access - he gives Kavinsky the kind of intense, sudden kiss he doesn't tend to give him when the city's aphrodisiacs or the full moon aren't influencing him. It's greedy and quick, like he's taking the kiss rather than sharing it, and when he pulls back, he stays close, hand on Kavinsky's chest. His eyes still aren't in this, completely, but - he's getting there. ]
[Kavinsky doesn't close his eyes right away as Derek kisses him. But it's better this time, it's living this time. He lets his eyes close and he feels fucking--weak. His lips part after Derek bites him and as the intensity ramps up, he finally moves. His hand slides over the back of Derek's neck, clinging to him, even as the kiss breaks.
He looks up, and he doesn't...
He should just take this. It's what he wants, isn't it? Even if this isn't what he'd been thinking about when he texted Derek. Why the fuck did he text him?]
Don't, [he mutters, and it feels weird to say. He doesn't want Derek to pull away, but he doesn't want to be a pity fuck, either. Just like he didn't want Gerry to stay because he felt bad for him. And even if he wants someone to hurt him - anything to avoid the fucking feelings roiling around in him - he doesn't want pity. Being angry is so much fucking easier than this.
Kavinsky needs to fucking say something. His hand tightens a little on Derek's neck. God, he is so fucking pathetic. He relaxes his grip and lets his hand slide over Derek's chest.]
What the fuck is wrong with me.
[Apply that where you will, because it can cover a lot right now.]
[ All Derek needs to do is hear the word don't to freeze up immediately, putting the brakes on this as fast as he can. He doesn't pull away - wouldn't be able to even if he wanted to, with Kavinsky's hand around his neck - and he waits, patient, for things to keep moving. When Kavinsky croaks out his question, Derek just sees this as progress, if anything. There's a crossroads here, and Derek feels like he has to be the one to decide which path they take. ]
This place is taking its toll on you. You're sad. That's all.
[ He's not going to go any deeper than that. Not going to make Kavinsky feel more fucked up than he needs to. Reluctantly, and knowing that Kavinsky might take it as a rejection, Derek decides to peel back, giving him his space. He stares at Kavinsky from the middle of the bed, and then, sighing, finally looks away. ]
I don't know how to make it better. Long-term. Kids like you that I tried to help back home ended up either hurt or dead. This isn't - what I do.
[ A pause. He looks down. ]
I don't think fucking me will help you. Hurting yourself, getting high... that won't help, either. You're just going to feel like this again, if you keep going the way you're going.
[He is too fucking sober for this bullshit. Kavinsky doesn't try to keep Derek what he is, just lays flat and wills himself not to dissolve anymore than he already has. His heart is pounding and all he wants to do is escape this. He doesn't even care how anymore.
He doesn't want someone to save him. He's fucking fine.
But he desperately wants to stop being left alone. And that, more than anything, makes him feel pathetic.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[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.
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[ 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.
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[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.]
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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. ]
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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.]
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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.
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[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.
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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. ]
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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.]
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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.
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[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.]
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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?
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[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.]
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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?
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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.]
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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.
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You wanna hear about my mom, too? Oh, how about the first time I tried to have sex? That is an awesome fucking story.
[He's done the therapy thing and he is not fucking interested. Especially if it involves a positive-change lecture by Derek fucking Hale. And he sure as fuck does not want to talk about how he feels about himself.
His gaze lands on Derek again, a little more intense this time.]
You wanna know what I did? I brought both of them back. Even after mom dragged me out to bumfuck Virginia, my dad was still back in New Jersey doing his shit and sending money. And no one ever knew Proko was gone.
[Just him.]
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Derek chooses to just reply quickly and quietly, still holding eye contact. ]
Doesn't sound like you're happy with the choices you've made.
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He drops his hands so he can look at Derek again.]
Are any of us?
[Yeah, he's sure there are people who are thrilled with their lives. Good for them. Kavinsky doesn't regret killing his father. That was terrifying and cathartic. But, he doesn't want to wallow in that memory, either. He wants to be in oblivion. He wants to be in a place where he feels like he has control.
He knows it's probably not going to go anywhere, but he slides his hands along Derek's jaw and kisses him.]
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He doesn't want to contribute to Kavinsky's loneliness, doesn't want to make him go through another rejection so soon after losing another sub, but with how often they've skirted the line of genuinely giving at least a tenth of a fuck about one another, Derek feels pretty guilty about all the rough, regrettable hookups and stupid choices they've both made. Feels like they could fall back into a pretty toxic pattern while Kavinsky's at a low point.
He wants to help Kavinsky feel better. But - ]
... if you're just going to self-destruct when I leave, there's no point in doing this. I don't want to just - be a distraction. I want to help.
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As much as he wants the physical contact, Kavinsky forces himself to move. He gets off of Derek and sits on the bed again. He taps his thumb against his knee, something more subtle than bouncing his leg. He really doesn't want to have a fucking break down in front of anyone.]
You do.
[Even if Derek thinks all this shit is toxic, it means something to him.]
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Okay.
[ He stands, now that he has the space. He looks to Kavinsky's drawer, to his wardrobe, plays with the idea of finding some rope, tying Kavinsky down, taking his control and making him frustrated enough through whatever Derek might do to him so he can work out some of this anger by kicking at his restraints and telling Derek to just let him come already. He looks back at Kavinsky, though, and just - ]
Okay. Fine.
[ - just decides that he might need to connect with someone, for a while, even if that someone has to be Derek. Derek drops back onto bed, straddling Kavinsky's hips and pinning him down to the mattress with his waist, and the kiss he gives him this time is better, more alive, than the last. He holds Kavinsky by the chin and keeps him steady while he leans in, bites at his bottom lip, demands access - he gives Kavinsky the kind of intense, sudden kiss he doesn't tend to give him when the city's aphrodisiacs or the full moon aren't influencing him. It's greedy and quick, like he's taking the kiss rather than sharing it, and when he pulls back, he stays close, hand on Kavinsky's chest. His eyes still aren't in this, completely, but - he's getting there. ]
I'll take care of you. Just - relax.
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He looks up, and he doesn't...
He should just take this. It's what he wants, isn't it? Even if this isn't what he'd been thinking about when he texted Derek. Why the fuck did he text him?]
Don't, [he mutters, and it feels weird to say. He doesn't want Derek to pull away, but he doesn't want to be a pity fuck, either. Just like he didn't want Gerry to stay because he felt bad for him. And even if he wants someone to hurt him - anything to avoid the fucking feelings roiling around in him - he doesn't want pity. Being angry is so much fucking easier than this.
Kavinsky needs to fucking say something. His hand tightens a little on Derek's neck. God, he is so fucking pathetic. He relaxes his grip and lets his hand slide over Derek's chest.]
What the fuck is wrong with me.
[Apply that where you will, because it can cover a lot right now.]
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This place is taking its toll on you. You're sad. That's all.
[ He's not going to go any deeper than that. Not going to make Kavinsky feel more fucked up than he needs to. Reluctantly, and knowing that Kavinsky might take it as a rejection, Derek decides to peel back, giving him his space. He stares at Kavinsky from the middle of the bed, and then, sighing, finally looks away. ]
I don't know how to make it better. Long-term. Kids like you that I tried to help back home ended up either hurt or dead. This isn't - what I do.
[ A pause. He looks down. ]
I don't think fucking me will help you. Hurting yourself, getting high... that won't help, either. You're just going to feel like this again, if you keep going the way you're going.
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He doesn't want someone to save him. He's fucking fine.
But he desperately wants to stop being left alone. And that, more than anything, makes him feel pathetic.]
It's not a crime to want to feel alive.
[So fucking there.]
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