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They'd been texting normally, as if nothing else were amiss, since they fucked. Kavinsky had been avoiding being alone with Jack, but that was an issue with him, not with Jack, and he knew he'd need to explain that at some point. Or maybe not. The emotional aspect, impact, affection of this whole mess was out there, and he just needed a little time and space to put everything back where it belonged before he could see Jack again. He didn't want to mess something up again.

So Kavinsky was a little surprised when he woke up from napping in the day bed to a sequence of texts from Jack saying that, well, Darrow was being a shit bag. Not in so many words. But that was the gist of it, anyway. Kavinsky texted back, as normal, until it finally got to Jack gently asking if Kavinsky would come over for a little while. He knew what this was like, after all.

It was true. He did. So, leaving a note behind for the boys since they were both at work, he headed over to Jack's apartment.

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"Oh, thank God."

Jack opens the door with one hand set on his hip, hair tumbled over his shoulders, one of Poison's shirts pulled tight across his unfamiliar tits. He grimaces. "Everything is weird, K."

"Oh, shit son, you got titties," Kavinsky said, a laugh jumping out of him because, frankly, it was just a little bit ridiculous in the moment. Jack was Jack, he was there, Kavinsky could see him around the eyes and the slightly worried shape of his mouth and the posture at his hip. But all the component shapes--he tilted his head to the side.

"I'm glad I didn't offer to bring over any of my shit from when I switched. None of it would fit."

"I look pretty much exactly like Jillie," says Jack, tilting his head to look down at the hourglass his figure makes under t-shirt and jeans. "Poison took me shopping. I've got pretty much everything we figure I'll need."

Kavinsky let himself in, putting himself into and then out of Jack's space. It was weird. The whole moment of it was weird. His mind was doing a slip-sliding thing, reality and unreality a bit too close together because this was reality but it shouldn't have been.

"Okay, gimme a sec, I'm having some cognitive recalibration issues. Shit, I am going to have to give Newt so many kudos for handling me when I showed up."

"Yeah, it's weird as hell, isn't it?" asks Jack, nose wrinkling and he turns and heads towards the kitchen to make tea. "I mean, Poison seems to have taken it in stride, but Poison takes everything inside." He glances over his shoulder, eyebrows raised. It's not something they've talked about, not properly. "Most things, anyway."

Kavinsky trailed Jack into the kitchen, taking his time to put this all together neatly in his head. Jack's casual admission that Poison was taking it in stride made him laugh. He carefully steered his thoughts away from what they'd done, despite the arch look Jack was giving him.

"Yeah, that's how Newt and Al were too. I think I freaked out way longer than either of them, though I did my best to keep chill. Newt was about it man. Big surprise for me."

"Yeah, like...I've had to come over here so I can get anything done," says Jack. "Probably not as much as a surprise as Newt, though. I could've guessed that Poison would be about it, right?" He glances back over his shoulder. "Feels weird, doesn't it? You know..." He blushes.

Kavinsky laughed at that, though he made a bit of a face because, ew, straight-people-fucking. He was considerably more at ease with the concept of Jack and Poison being a thing any more than he'd been before the Fourth of July, but he still didn't really want to think about penis-in-vagina sex, or whatever else they might be getting up to, even if he had probably gotten up to way worse when he'd gotten turned into a girl.

"I mean, Newt was just never around girls, really, except for one he didn't really like I guess, and then, bam, Darrow. So I'd just figured, score, I found me a gay. Nope. Surrounded by fucking bisexuals. Lord fuckin' help me if he or Al ever end up..."

Kavinsky sniggered a little and smirked. "I kinda liked it? Fucking while I was like that. Man, fuckin' 'em both was phenomenal."

Jack huffs a laugh and shakes his head, putting on the kettle to boil. He finds himself utterly and completely unsurprised by that admission.

"I mean...the fact that you can keep going is kind of awesome?"

"Until it's distracting," Kavinsky pointed out, as Jack had admitted to a graceful retreat from his boyfriend's attention for that exact reason. Still, it was nice to have this clumsy, mutual experience, the city being weird without being cruel. And Kavinsky was grateful that Poison was taking Jack's body in stride.

Kavinsky hopped up onto the counter while Jack started the kettle. He was near enough the cabinet with the mugs in it, so he twisted and pulled down two.

"I'm glad you two are doing good," he said. The words felt honest, which meant they must have been. "Like, generally speaking, not just in the case of things being smooth despite you suddenly having a cunt."

"Until it's distracting," says Jack, his nose wrinkling slightly. "Poison is disturbingly good at going down on women, apparently." It wasn't something that Jack had ever had an opportunity to try, but it's a subject he's done a lot of research into. He rummages around in the cupboard for the particular tea that he's looking for. He glances up at Kavinsky, a tendril of hair slipping in his eyes.

"We're good, yeah. We're doing okay."

"Ew, okay, gross," Kavinsky said with a bright smile and a laugh. He nudged his foot out, tapping Jack in the hip as he puttered around. When Jack looked at him, he wanted to reach out and tuck his hair back.

Something swooped and reeled. This was patently the worst.

"I mean it," he said. "You were so fuckin' worried he was just gonna be some one night stand jackass, and--look at you now and whatever."

"I know, right?" says Jack, leaning into the touch for a moment. When he knows when the boundaries are, he finds touch comforting. He's never going to fuck up and hurt Poison again. "How are you, anyway?" he asks. "How're your boys?"

"They're good," Kavinsky assured. He didn't go through the litany of assurance that he had when Poison had asked him essentially the same question, proving that his home life hadn't changed in the slightest since he and Jack had fucked. It seemed pedantic, even if it was true.

"Things are goin', you know. Poison said you're starting school and stuff, so. That'll be good. Newt's at the community college, not at the uni, but man, he's like. Stoke-freakin'."

"Yeah, I can't wait to start. I'm signed up for mostly visual arts stuff, plus a comic writing class." He starts to make tea, leaving it to brew for a second. "What's Newt studying again?"

Kavinsky scrubbed his fingers into his hair, distracting himself from--from what? They were talking about nothing. He was here to be a rock, a steady normalcy while Jack's world was slanted sideways from Darrow being a shitheel. What did he care how Jack's shirt sat on the small of his back?

"Garden shit?" He gave a little laugh and tilted his head back against the wall. "Uh. It's a hospitalities thing. Like, lawn design, garden management, that sort of thing. He gets to stick his hands in the dirt a lot."

"That sounds pretty awesome," says Jack, picking up one of the teacups and offering it to Newt, leaning back against the counter. "If it hadn't been fro Jillie, I think I'd have applied for SVA in New York, but..." He shrugs. "Barton'll have to do." He takes a sip of his tea. "You want to do something after we drink this?"

Edited 2016-08-30 17:47 (UTC)

"Fancy bullshit," Kavinsky said, scrunching up his nose a little bit, as he took the teacup offered to him. He scooted across the counter until his hip was almost to Jack's elbow. "Never thought I was gonna graduate high school, so. Don't really see the point in college? Don't need a BA to be an assistant or take my clothes off."

He shrugged and blew steam away from the tea. "Yeah. Just fuck around the mall or you wanna actually do something?"

"Yeah, well, we can't all be strippers," says Jack, but he says it with soft and gentle affection, nudging Kavinsky's hip when he says it. "What are my other options?"

"Are you kidding, man? You'd make a fantastic stripper if you wanted. All flexible and shit. Christ damn." Kavinsky laughed and smiled and carefully didn't think about it. Especially not when Jack looked like one of those girls that Skov or Prokopenko would have had pictures of, half or all the way naked, pinned to their walls.

"I dunno. Movie? Park? Fuck man, I normally just get high with my friend Peter and we try to make Heteros uncomfortable."

"Just not my scene, man," says Jack, laughing. He arches an eyebrow, turning to fix Kavinsky with his best approximation of a stern, measuring look.

"Do I count there or no?"

Kavinsky rolled his eyes. "You're not a hetero, baby doll. Even if you didn't have the lady parts right now, you still wouldn't be a hetero. No, I'm talking, like, the forty year old soccer moms with bad hair cuts who want to talk to someone's manager."

He slid off the counter then and sipped his tea more seriously. "Unless you were asking about us making people uncomfortable because we can, like, totally try? But we look like a couple of preppy heteros right now, so it's a different sort of uncomfortable."

"Firstly, I got into enough trouble with Poison the last time," says Jack, eyebrows raised. "And secondly, I thought tits totally grossed you out."

Kavinsky did his best to keep his amusement, though the words were a lancing reminder that he should have spent this whole time with more distance between himself and Jack. There were boundaries. He'd put those boundaries there. Everything in its place, and its place was on a shelf where he never had to touch it.

He flapped a hand. "What a narrow fucking view on making people uncomfortable. Who says I have to, like, swan dive your cleavage to make people uncomfortable? Have you met me? Also, it's not the tits. It's, like, the downstairs situation. I just don't get the appeal of tits."

"I don't know," says Jack, free hand ghosting over the curves under his t-shirt. "There's definitely a lot of fun things to with them." He laughs, rolling his eyes. "Downstairs situation? Jesus."