[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.]
[ Feels like he's up against a brick wall again. That brief feeling of progress sparked up and died out just as fast, and now Derek feels like they're exactly where they were a few minutes ago - with Derek failing to communicate despite the difficulty he feels in opening up, and Kavinsky getting angry and taking what Derek's saying as a useless attack. It's all just - disappointing. Derek is disappointed again. ]
I didn't say it was. Just... you need a better way of...
[ He trails off. He's just - repeating himself. Derek, again, feels like being here is proving to be far from conducive to Kavinsky's mood, and he sighs, looks up at the ceiling. Sometimes he doesn't know how they got here, with everything Kavinsky's done. ]
[It's the second time he's said it and it feels just as vulnerable as the first time. He's looking at Derek, and instead of anger and frustration there's something else.]
We can do whatever you want, just--stay. I'll fucking stay sober if you want.
[If Derek wants to fuck because that's what they're used to, fine. If he doesn't, also fine. But Kavinsky cannot handle the sight of someone else walking out the fucking door right now. He pushes himself up a bit, hating how desperate he feels. Hating how weak this makes him feel. But he's fucking... trying. He has no idea what the fuck he's doing, but he's trying.
They both suck at this. But Derek showed up. He fucking showed up and that means something, right? Something Kavinsky isn't sure he wants to investigate too closely, because it's possible it will go up in flames like everything else he touches. But Derek is here.]
[ The more time Derek spends here, the more he wonders if Kavinsky really gives a shit that it was him who showed up, or if he just - doesn't want to be by himself. He probably only reached out to Derek on a whim, and that's - fine, honestly, but it makes it harder for Derek to navigate this. He doesn't want to put all this time and energy into helping someone who doesn't want to be helped if, under all the almost-caring and short little bursts of empathy, that someone doesn't really care about him.
His go-to instinct is to take Kavinsky training, work out some of that grief on a few punching bags and iron shackles, but teaching him how to fight like a werewolf seems like a pretty fucking terrible idea. He racks his mind for things he knows Kavinsky likes, other than, like, drugs and getting his ass torn up, and there's only one thing that really comes to mind. ]
We're gonna fuck with your car.
[ Probably pointless, if Kavinsky's just going to blow it up in a few days, but Derek's made a decision. He's gonna get Kavinsky out of this room, if only for a little while. ]
Clean it, mod it. Tune it up. We're gonna be productive. Constructive. You're probably going to hate it.
[But it wasn't a whim. Maybe he can't ever tell Derek that, or how much it tears him up every time he hears Joey in a tone that isn't mocking. That sounds like someone gives a shit. He doesn't know when the shift in his head happened, but it scares the fuck out of him.
He laughs, kind of startled, when Derek announces they're going to work on his fucking car. If he can't escape into dreams, then yeah, that's probably the next best thing. He rubs his hand over his face, but he nods.]
Yeah, okay.
[He's not even going to argue. He's pretty good with his hands, even if most people assume he's fucking useless at anything that doesn't involve getting high. And he's got a mind for mechanics. His shit would be worthless if he didn't.]
Am I allowed to have beer? I feel like this shit kind of requires a six pack.
[Look, beer isn't going to do much and he knows it's not going to do anything to Derek, so what's the harm?]
[ Unfortunately for Kavinsky, being under the scrutinizing, watchful eyes of Derek Hale means conceding control to a complete and total hardass. Kavinsky asks for beer the second Derek stands, reaches out, and grabs him by the forearm, tugging him out of bed like he weighs next to nothing. ]
Nope. I know what you're capable of. Might not really be beer.
[ Could be spiked. Could be - fucking - dream-beer, or whatever, a fancy, fantasy beveerage most comparable to liquified cocaine or something. Derek's already walking backwards, heading towards the door. ]
You go a couple hours dry, just working with your hands and hanging out with me, I'll give you a reward. Whatever you want. Free lapdance, or something.
[ 'Cause fucking might not help, but if he can use it as an incentive to keep him focused on something that could, then - whatever. ]
[He smirks, because Derek is not wrong. Who knows what the hell he has around here that isn't what it seems. Kavinsky leans his weight back just a bit as he walks, just to feel the tension between his arm and Derek's. At least the view is nice as he's pulled along.
Maybe this isn't what he expected, but he's not disappointed. Hanging out with Derek and dicking around with his car isn't a disappointment.]
I'm holding you to that.
[Because of course he is. And Derek's not getting out of that no matter how much Kavinsky relaxes or manages to enjoy himself.
He makes Derek pull him through half the house before he takes over, leading the rest of the way. At least the car isn't on the road, means they don't have to worry about traffic. This particular Evo has actually been around for a while. A survivor.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.
no subject
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.]
no subject
I didn't say it was. Just... you need a better way of...
[ He trails off. He's just - repeating himself. Derek, again, feels like being here is proving to be far from conducive to Kavinsky's mood, and he sighs, looks up at the ceiling. Sometimes he doesn't know how they got here, with everything Kavinsky's done. ]
Maybe I should just head out.
no subject
Don't.
[It's the second time he's said it and it feels just as vulnerable as the first time. He's looking at Derek, and instead of anger and frustration there's something else.]
We can do whatever you want, just--stay. I'll fucking stay sober if you want.
[If Derek wants to fuck because that's what they're used to, fine. If he doesn't, also fine. But Kavinsky cannot handle the sight of someone else walking out the fucking door right now. He pushes himself up a bit, hating how desperate he feels. Hating how weak this makes him feel. But he's fucking... trying. He has no idea what the fuck he's doing, but he's trying.
They both suck at this. But Derek showed up. He fucking showed up and that means something, right? Something Kavinsky isn't sure he wants to investigate too closely, because it's possible it will go up in flames like everything else he touches. But Derek is here.]
no subject
His go-to instinct is to take Kavinsky training, work out some of that grief on a few punching bags and iron shackles, but teaching him how to fight like a werewolf seems like a pretty fucking terrible idea. He racks his mind for things he knows Kavinsky likes, other than, like, drugs and getting his ass torn up, and there's only one thing that really comes to mind. ]
We're gonna fuck with your car.
[ Probably pointless, if Kavinsky's just going to blow it up in a few days, but Derek's made a decision. He's gonna get Kavinsky out of this room, if only for a little while. ]
Clean it, mod it. Tune it up. We're gonna be productive. Constructive. You're probably going to hate it.
no subject
He laughs, kind of startled, when Derek announces they're going to work on his fucking car. If he can't escape into dreams, then yeah, that's probably the next best thing. He rubs his hand over his face, but he nods.]
Yeah, okay.
[He's not even going to argue. He's pretty good with his hands, even if most people assume he's fucking useless at anything that doesn't involve getting high. And he's got a mind for mechanics. His shit would be worthless if he didn't.]
Am I allowed to have beer? I feel like this shit kind of requires a six pack.
[Look, beer isn't going to do much and he knows it's not going to do anything to Derek, so what's the harm?]
no subject
Nope. I know what you're capable of. Might not really be beer.
[ Could be spiked. Could be - fucking - dream-beer, or whatever, a fancy, fantasy beveerage most comparable to liquified cocaine or something. Derek's already walking backwards, heading towards the door. ]
You go a couple hours dry, just working with your hands and hanging out with me, I'll give you a reward. Whatever you want. Free lapdance, or something.
[ 'Cause fucking might not help, but if he can use it as an incentive to keep him focused on something that could, then - whatever. ]
no subject
[He smirks, because Derek is not wrong. Who knows what the hell he has around here that isn't what it seems. Kavinsky leans his weight back just a bit as he walks, just to feel the tension between his arm and Derek's. At least the view is nice as he's pulled along.
Maybe this isn't what he expected, but he's not disappointed. Hanging out with Derek and dicking around with his car isn't a disappointment.]
I'm holding you to that.
[Because of course he is. And Derek's not getting out of that no matter how much Kavinsky relaxes or manages to enjoy himself.
He makes Derek pull him through half the house before he takes over, leading the rest of the way. At least the car isn't on the road, means they don't have to worry about traffic. This particular Evo has actually been around for a while. A survivor.]