Magdalena Kavinsky (
pravila_za_mechtateli) wrote2016-08-28 10:23 pm
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in the cold dark earth, no grave can hold my body down [Voice Test]
It had been a long shift with a lot of johns and more of Cheng than Kavinsky really wanted to think about. At least it had only been Cheng this time, but the reminder of him was a reminder of Ronan, and Kavinsky could do without that being on his periphery at any given second.
Ostensibly, he ought to be heading back to his apartment. No one had picked him up for the night, which meant he had what he'd made from dancing, and that was it. An alright turn out, but the tips had been smaller than normal, and Kavinsky just wanted a little more cushion. Not that, if he ever got home, he could do anything with this money. But it was a nice dream.
He was aware that someone was following him by a shadow shifting, but he just kept walking, humming a new strain of a song to himself. Maybe it was just someone headed the same way. Hopefully it wasn't Cheng.
Ostensibly, he ought to be heading back to his apartment. No one had picked him up for the night, which meant he had what he'd made from dancing, and that was it. An alright turn out, but the tips had been smaller than normal, and Kavinsky just wanted a little more cushion. Not that, if he ever got home, he could do anything with this money. But it was a nice dream.
He was aware that someone was following him by a shadow shifting, but he just kept walking, humming a new strain of a song to himself. Maybe it was just someone headed the same way. Hopefully it wasn't Cheng.
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Kavinsky kept his face still and receptive and kind. He swallowed a little, nervous.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
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Poison was aware that most of what he said sounded like a threat, veiled or otherwise. He stared at the floor. "If you are that, maybe you can do something for me. And if you aren't - which I believe is a lie - fine. Either way, we can get on with it."
He looked at Kavinsky. "I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here on my time."
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He had not dreamt for someone else in ages. Not since Henrietta. Not since trying to--
"What can I do for you, Poison?"
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Poison watched Kavinsky after that, wondering if it can even be done. What reference point would he even have, beyond what Poison could tell him? Maybe that wasn't enough for a dream thing.
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"It would take a while," he said. Tried not to sound put out that this social call was because he was maybe more reputable than Ronan Lynch. "You'd have to tell me everything you know and remember about it. But it would take me time."
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Maybe that wasn't true, but he didn't want to go back to before. Too many memories, too many feelings.
Poison looked at Kavinsky's face, then reached, rather gentle as he guided his chin. He kissed him. "Tell me what the boyfriend experience is. Again."
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He tilted his head up sweetly, obediently, and opened his mouth to the kiss. It was so brief. He tried not to think that he thought he might prefer the pornstar experience.
"Kissing. Face to face. Condom's voluntary."
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"And the other one?"
He'd been listening the first time, but now that Kavinsky was naked, wrapped in a sheet, and he was sitting here with his pants undone, he supposed it didn't hurt to review his options.
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"Is there anything you like? Or are you just going to try to tell me what you think I want to hear?"
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"Not about hurting," he said. "About me being what you want me to be. What you need me to be. You don't have to hurt anyone for that. But, whatever you want, I'll make it good."
What did he like? He liked a boy slightly older than him, dusty hair and intense eyes and sinuous hands. He liked being held. He liked laughing during sex; he missed laughing during sex.
He said none of these things. "I like a lot of things. And I will like what we do."
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He shouldn't be doing this. But he was going to. Some itch needed scratching and he didn't have the drugs to make himself forget it.
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He rose from the bed and went to a closet set on the side wall. There were costumes there, things he didn't care for. Finally, he came up with an eyemask. He held it up with one finger, and stepped back over.
"You'll be more comfortable on the bed." And, with that, Kavinsky slipped the blindfold onto Poison and supposed they were finally beginning.
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He waited a breath, let his mind wander further away. What was he doing?
"How was your day?" he asked.
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"It was good," he said. He tried to soak the accent out of his voice, tried to sound for generic. He climbed back into the bed and curled against Poison, straddling his thigh. His fingers smoothed through his light hair, and he leaned in to kiss his neck. "Errands mostly, until work."
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"Even if you say my hair's gonna fall out." A faint grin touched his voice, his mouth. He slid his knee higher, pressing his thigh up between his legs.
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"Gotta get you a better conditioner," he murmured, putting a smile into his voice, which meant it was on his lips, and Poison would feel it on his skin. "Like your hair too much for it to all fall out."
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His other hand slid down his back, grabbing his ass to pull their bodies tighter together.
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He wound his arms around Poison's shoulders and he dropped a series of kisses on his face, and then on his mouth. "I'd hate to see it all go, though. Better take care of it or I'll have nothing to hold onto."
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"It's okay," he whispered. His hips lifted, rubbing against Poison's thigh filthily. "I'm right here. Nothing to miss."
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"Give me a second," he murmured. His kiss sank down Poison's neck. "You'll have to sit up, love. How do you want me tonight?"
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He kept close to Poison, pleasant and over-warm. It was easy to reach into the bedside table and pull out lube. He forewent a condom, even though he knew he shouldn't.
"Here," he said softly. "Give me your hand."
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