[ 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.]
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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.]