Joseph Kavinsky (
mitsubishievo) wrote2017-07-10 07:24 pm
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I remember the fear in your eyes the very first time we snuck into the city pool [AU]
The days were long and hot and sticky, and the nights were only barely relief. Kavinsky was going absolutely stir crazy. He felt like a livewire, a heart attack waiting to happen, a bullet ready in the chamber. Nothing could relieve the feeling.
No, he knew plenty of things that could.
Prokopenko was orbiting Jiang in the lazy days leading up to their escape from Henrietta. Kavinsky didn't blame them, but he was a jealous boy, down to his bones. He liked Jiang. He was happy that Proko had someone that made his eyes light up like that, even when he was hazy. But he'd never liked other people touching his things.
He rolled up outside the Prokopenko house, spotted the boy. He'd told him to be waiting. The humidity was finally starting to break. He rolled down the passenger window, sunglasses on even though it was dark, and popped a bubble gum bubble.
"Get in, loser."
No, he knew plenty of things that could.
Prokopenko was orbiting Jiang in the lazy days leading up to their escape from Henrietta. Kavinsky didn't blame them, but he was a jealous boy, down to his bones. He liked Jiang. He was happy that Proko had someone that made his eyes light up like that, even when he was hazy. But he'd never liked other people touching his things.
He rolled up outside the Prokopenko house, spotted the boy. He'd told him to be waiting. The humidity was finally starting to break. He rolled down the passenger window, sunglasses on even though it was dark, and popped a bubble gum bubble.
"Get in, loser."

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He can't really remember a time saying no to him.
"Where are we going?" he asked after he closed the door.
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Proko was barely in before Kavinsky peeled away from the curb. The Mitsubishi hummed around them. Kavinsky tapped a staccato on the steering wheel with one hand and the gear shift with the other.
"This humidity is murder, man," he growled.
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"I have some pre-rolls in the glove box, grab me one. I wanna be fucked up by the time we get to the pool."
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Kavinsky took the pre-roll from Proko, but really, he wanted to climb into the backseat and shut gun and fog up the windows, the residual heat of the day and the engine hemming them in too much.
Quietly, he asked, "When are you guys headed out?"
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And he was trying not to think too hard about how Kavinsky wasn't coming with him. It felt like an ache, like the slow severing of a limb.
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He shut off the car and got out, instantly fanning himself with his shirt now that the AC wasn't blasting on him.
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He wasn't surprised to see that Kavinsky had a key.
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When he emerged, he took another drag off the half-finished joint, and then offered it to Proko before stripping off his shirt. He had nothing on underneath it.
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He left his clothes in a pile but rather than diving in, Proko slides over the edge and disappears beneath the surface for a second, like it might fucking clear his head.
Nope.
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"What's the fun of breaking in if you got a key, huh? I was expecting some bolt cutters, man."
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"Maybe it'll be my new hook-up spot."
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"Always wanted to fuck around in a pool."
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He moved his hand to Proko's balls, squeezing them gently. He leaned in, lips almost brushing Proko's. "Besides, it's about keeping quiet, not keeping a straight face. Lifeguard doesn't give a shit, as long as you're not hollerin'."
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