mitsubishievo | O, daĭ mi lyubovta [for Jack]

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O, daĭ mi lyubovta [for Jack]

Kavinsky gave himself a week. He gave himself a week of distance and focusing on other things, and he was going to get over this stupid infatuation. The knowledge that Jack liked someone else was almost settling, really. It helped to keep the onus of his behavior on himself. Jack was a good kid, and he deserved to have some comfort, and if that meant he explored himself a little bit, then more power to him.

And, well, Kavinsky knew that rough sort of liking someone and being unsure how they felt. At least Poison seemed a relatively safe sort to have a crush on, as far as first queer crashes went. Kavinsky couldn't blame Jack for that, at least.

So, he gave it a week. A week, and then he'd be over this stupid infatuation.

God, he hoped so.

He texted Jack in anticipation of harassing him at his apartment--deliberately not thinking about Chelsea Cloisters, his history with the building, with people who had lived here once, with things he had done here--a simple im coming over and u cant stop me approximately five minutes before he arrived at Jack's door and knocked, sharp and succinct.

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"Yeah, I mean. I lived in my warehouse and on people's couches for like a week." Kavinsky shrugged. "But, uh. We figured it out. I apologized. A lot. We don't really talk about it. Me coming home from seeing you at the Zen Center and Newt pointing out that I had a crush, that was like, probably the first time the whole fiasco really got brought up since it happened."

He looked at Jack quietly a second, trying to gauge the worth of honesty in this situation.

"It's rough, man. But, I mean, it's not more or less rough because of your sexuality. I've slept with loads of straight guys." He snorted. "Heh, loads."

Jack huffs a laugh, flustered by that for some reason. "Not so straight apparently, huh?" he says, rubbing the pad of his thumb between his eyebrows for a moment. "Pretty thorough and categorically debunked that."

Kavinsky shrugged. "I mean, tell that to most of the guys I went to school with? The amount of queer shit going on, and they were all straight as hell, or at least said they were. I don't think it really matters most times? So, you caught queer in Darrow. Big whoop, join the fuckin' club, I guess. It's probably in the water."

He smirked a little, leaning over to smack Jack's knee briefly, before he retreated back to his corner.

That makes Jack laugh, which feels good, actually - the way it releases all of the tension that he's been holding in his chest. He shakes his head a little.

"I mean, I blame him?" he says. "You've met him."

"Oh, you should definitely blame him too, man. Totally his fault." Kavinsky grinned at that, shrugging nonchalantly. He hummed a little. "So, here's the timeline of your night that I'm getting. Show up for totally-not-a-date-at-a-club, dancing, dancing too close, blowjob in a bathroom apparently, then back here? Was there more blowjobs? Was there only blowjobs? My first three sexual encounters were exclusively handjobs, man, but I was like fourteen."

"Oh, fuck, are we actually doing this?" says Jack, blushing and squirming down in the sofa cushions. "Blow job in the bathroom. I..." He closes his eyes, mortified. "Went down on him at my place. And then..."

"I cannot believe that you keep calling it going down, Jesus Christ," Kavinsky said, half a grumble, laughter coming up a little bit. He suddenly felt like he needed some booze all over again. He poured himself some more tea. "And then what, huh, Jackie-O? You punch your V card, or what?"

"What else do you want me to say? I sucked his dick? It was awesome?" Jack rolls his eyes, takes a sip of his tea. "I fucked him. He fucked me."

"Jesus, how many times did you guys go?" Kavinsky laughed. He had no room to talk, mind briefly, traitorously flashing back to the way he'd been fucked by Connor, how easily he'd put out for it. He shook his head a little.

"A bunch." Jack blushes furiously. "And again this morning. It was pretty fucking great."

"Good for you," Kavinsky murmured, his voice more distant now, for a moment. His mind had spiraled carelessly into thinking too much about January--but Jack and Poison were not that, and Kavinsky, despite his weird sort of burdening jealousy, was glad that they'd had fun and that Jack was comfortable enough with him to tell him about this.

"Too much?" asks Jack, scrubbing one hand back through his hair. "Sorry, man. I...pretty much literally don't have any one else to talk to this about. It's not like I can talk to Poison."

"No," Kavinsky said, pulling himself together. He reached over at shoved Jack in the shoulder, amiable, boyish, smiling a little bit. "No you're fine, that's all me and my head, dude. It's cool. Probably good for me or whatever."

He leaned back again, fidgeting his ring absentmindedly. "You gonna see him again?"

Jack throws his hands up, his tea-cup balanced on his knee.

"Fucked if I know," he says. "I want to? We're friends? He's been texting me all day." He sighs. "Might not be enough anymore."

"I mean, there's nothing wrong with taking some time and space to figure your shit out, dude," Kavinsky said with a shrug. He'd just taken a week to figure his shit out, after all--much more successfully, for the most part, even if it had solved absolutely nothing, than the last time he'd gotten emotional over someone. "And you seem way more emotionally stable and mature than me, so, like. You seem like you'd manage to figure your shit out."

"I feel like I can't think straight when I'm around him? Like he's all sharp edges and swagger and he makes me feel like such a kid, and then he was looking at me last night and...Jesus."

His face flushes again. "Yeah. I've got some shit I need to figure out."

Kavinsky smiled, only a little bitter. Maybe he'd softened too much since he'd gotten to Darrow. Maybe it was because he wasn't alternative looking enough. Maybe it was that he'd helped Jack, where Jack had helped Poison. Maybe he should just stop thinking about why it was he hadn't warmed Jack's bed last night, since it didn't fucking matter.

"I mean. You're having a sexual awakening and shit. He should fucking understand that shit, man. Give yourself a little time to figure that shit out." He was quiet a moment. "And if you need to talk about gay shit, I'm here? I started screwing around when I was, like, fourteen."

"I think that the time when I was, like, ready to start screwing around was also the time my sister went off the deep end," says Jack, shrugging. He can't remember how much he's told Kavinsky about Jillie. Poison knows everything, he knows that much. "So I never really got the chance."

"Shit," Kavinsky said. It was not the first allusion Jack had made to his sister's health, but definitely the most direct. He was formulating concepts of her, of Jack's life. He wasn't sure if he ought to ask about it. Jack had showed up in Darrow at a dead faint; there was clearly something tied in with his shit that he wasn't fully dealing with, or was dealing with too much, as far as Kavinsky was concerned.

"Yeah, that'd be rough. And I bet the whole Buddhist, do not harm, whatever probably throws a skew on all the really fun sex stuff." Or maybe Kavinsky just had opinions on what qualified under fun. He winced, just a little. At least he was a month out from being a bruised mess, anymore.

"She's a disorganised schizophrenic. It makes telling delusion from reality really, really difficult." He forces his expression mild, rolled his shoulders in a shrug. "But she's always been able to keep me straight, so that means I've always had to be around. When we were sixteen, she had...yeah. It was rough."

The rest of what Kavinsky has to say makes him blush. "Yeah. I. Have been thinking about that. Maybe?"

Kavinsky suddenly had a distinct memory of sitting in a therapist's office, shortly after the event with his father, shortly after they moved to Virginia, and listening as the doctor told his mother what he thought was wrong. He swallowed, compulsively. He had no reason to think that Jack's sister was anything like him, but he understood that feeling of helplessness, when you struggled to tell the difference between reality and unreality, and the world told you you were sick.

He'd just told them exactly what they wanted to hear so they wouldn't lock him up, and learned, quickly, how to hide everything else in plain sight.

"Sorry," he said, and shook his head. He laughed. "I'm sorta messed up about sex, probably. I shouldn't load that off on you. Lots of people have totally normal, fun sex and don't worry about that stuff. And you did too last night. And this morning."

"It was weird," says Jack, with a roll of one shoulder. "Like. He makes me want to be possessive in a way that sort of scares the shit out of me."

"No, I get that," Kavinsky said with a broad shrug. "I get like that with my boys, sometimes. But I think that's more defense posturing on my part. Like...of course they'd wanna look at other people. Of course other people would want to look at them. And they're just so damn good for each other, like. Damn. I am shooting way out of my league here."

He laughed and smiled, turning his ring slowly. He put Jack and Poison next to each other in his minds eye and, yeah. They fit. Poison was all energy and excited gestures, and Jack was an image of calm, and they might find a balance that would work. The jealousy spiked in him brutally for a moment, and he shoved it down, just as brutally.

"I got it most when I was..." Jack closes his eyes, looking utterly mortified for a moment. "When I was fucking him last night. Like. I wanted to be rough with him? I'm not sure it makes sense."

Kavinsky blew out a breath and closed his eyes for a moment, but then had to open them, immediately, because he didn't want his imagination getting away from him. The last thing he needed was to make this weird. For once, he was grateful that he was a mostly slow start to things, that he had a practiced distance from his sex drive.

"I mean," he said, and looked over at Jack, "if you guys were both into it, then there's nothing wrong with that. Everybody's into their own stuff. But, yeah, it can be...it can be a lot, the first time."

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