Whaaat. [kavinsky draws out the syllable, fake fuckboy surprise! it's part of the game. but it's also partly genuine, as he did not expect to see nico here. for some reason, he had assumed that the demigod was moneyed like vex. deathy dramatic divine dudes [who like] dick, and other d-words, surely have to be rolling in it, having to work only when they fancy. vex obviously fancies pandemonium. the hell is nico's excuse.
a smile's on kavinsky's face the next moment. wide, toothy, playful. definitely still dickish.] You want my outie to turn into an innie? Shit, Angie. I thought you liked what I gave you. You tell me I turned you straight, you'll break my fucking heart, baby. [kavinsky looks hurt the next minute, like swiping a snapchat filter over his previous jackal grin. a sad frown, his too-full lips turning down at the corners so far that his chin creases hilariously. the next minute, the expression snaps back like a rubber band, returning to his former, shit-eating glory.]
Let me guess. You turn tricks in the back room. [he gestures at a likely looking door behind the counter, arches an expectant eyebrow. his eyes are laughing. he's always like that. but there's a little bit of sincere dirt in the crook of his mouth, of course. he's joking, but it's the kind of joke that's not a joke.] Help me find my fucking CD and it'll be just your fifteen percent for the rest.
[ there's something about kavinsky's arrogance and impishness that gets nico's blood boiling. the way the other boy smirks, taunts in that near-incoherent manner of his, and even has the audacity to suggest that he might have sex for money... normally nico might be able to tolerate the other boy's behavior or remove himself from it enough to not react. what tends to help is a screen and space separating them. now, however, that's not an option. and as kavinsky demands to be helped, something like a flame flares to life deep in nico's dark and colorless eyes. like the flame of insanity that lingers at the edges of the shadows.
the temperature around them instantly drops around ten degrees as nico's aura reacts to the anger building inside him. he'll take whatever teasing kavinsky might give him, but suggesting he's a whore is simply too much. a sneer forms on his lips and he draws closer. his voice is the breath of death, full of warning that should set off all sorts of alarm bells, but if kavinsky doesn't hear them, that's not his only problem. ]
You think you can walk in here, imply that I'm a prostitute and then demand I help you?
[for once, kavinsky does hear it. mostly because it's impossible not to, like sleeping through an earthquake as it throws your house into a canyon or sitting through a fire as it chews off your feet. kavinsky has met death before; he knows it with greater intimacy than any young man his age should.
but this is different. his guts turn to ice in his stomach. he retains his composure strictly because he's a liar, his head turning slow, eyelids half-mast. pretending this is fine.
not because it is fine. but because he's really hoping nico catches the fucking hint, and maybe actively tries to make the thing fine again. it occurs to him suddenly and without room for contradiction, that it truly is up to nico; that he's the one with the control here. the back of his neck prickles, prey scenting predator.]
[ it's remarkable for nico to see a mortal, even one as powerful as kavinsky, hold his composure in the face of his aura. even the monsters of tartarus and those steeped in death like vex have been affected, but there's something about kavinsky that somehow defies everything nico knows. it's equal amounts frustrating and intriguing and nico simply doesn't know how to approach this situation without allowing anger to get the better of him.
a grumbled noise of frustration escapes him and with a flick of his wrist the aura dissipates. it won't do for him to react without thinking and get himself kicked out of eudio, so he'll have to deal with this... annoyance some other way. he rolls his eyes before reaching out, intending to grab kavinsky by the wrist. ]
You're a moron. C'mon.
[ and if kavinsky will let him, he'll tug the other boy to a back room where their backstock can be found. because he somehow doubts that whatever kavinsky is looking for will be found on their main floor with their regular merchandise. ]
[behind nico, kavinsky's eyes water a little. there's a flinch in the wrist when the death god takes it, but it's hard to notice amid their flurry of movement toward the back room. it's not like kavinsky is refusing. he would be hard-pressed to refuse nico anything right now. he places one foot numbly in front of the next, then blinks stupidly in surprise when they end up in the back room. he isn't sure what he was expecting.
the mouth of hell, maybe. home sweet home for little boy suicides.
this is probably the longest he's ever been with nico without saying words, in absence of a dick in his mouth. but nothing comes to mind as he tracks into the shelves, listening to the terror drain slowly out of his skin.]
[ it's the way the normally talkative kavinsky doesn't respond that makes nico stop abruptly and turn to face him. kavinsky, the guy that always seems to have something to say, has from the start reminded him a lot of leo valdez. granted, the two have polar opposite types of humor, but that tendency to brush off pain or suffering by making some kind of joke, or even the bravado that so marks them both will probably keep leo and kavinsky linked in nico's mind for a while.
there are differences, though. for one thing, leo is a demigod and has never been known to shut up, even when faced with life or death. kavinsky, on the other hand, is a mortal, even if a powerful one. and nico can't help but feel a bit guilty at the way kavinsky refuses to look at him. he reminds himself he can't always let his anger get the best of him...
after all, it has always been his fatal flaw.
sighing as he releases kavinsky's wrist, he reaches up to cup the other boy's cheek. his palm doesn't settle there, only hovers close. their relationship has always been a bit tumultuous and without the absence of sex, nico is at a bit of a loss. is kavinsky the kind of person that reacts well to physical touch when being consoled? he obviously doesn't know kavinsky as much as he'd like.
eventually dropping his hand, he gives kavinsky a long, slow look-over. ]
You know, you handled that pretty well. You didn't even run away or anything like that.
[ if he looks suitably rebuked, it's because he is. it's about as close to an apology as he can manage at the moment. ]
[kavinsky reacts to touch the way he reacts to most things: based on whether or not he can make it look cool. if he can get away looking cool. if he doesn't lose his cool. looking good matters more than being happy or honest, more than being comforted or, sometimes, even alive. anyway: he doesn't flinch or recoil, because joseph kavinsky never flinches, never recoils.
but it takes him a second to notice nico's hand there, then to realize the little god is getting a really good look at him. it's reflex, the way kavinsky puts a smile on his face, casual, although his eyes blink a little harder at nico than he usually needs to.]
If I pissed a little, would you be into that?
[kavinsky does this. hides behind bullshit and noise, offending people to rebalance the power in a given moment. but he's off his game right now, even though his eyes hold steady. he's rallying inside of himself, coming back into his own skin. he doesn't run away. sometimes even when he ought to. but he doesn't say the hooker joke that comes to mind, his cheek resting warm in nico's hand.]
[ the scrutiny doesn't pass at all, despite the way kavinsky tries to shrug off how he'd responded moments ago. in some ways, kavinsky really is like leo valdez (and a lot of demigods, really). all mouthy bravado and posturing. it doesn't work well on nico. it never has, regardless of whether it had been percy, leo, or someone else. and it certainly doesn't work now. his eyes are dark and seemingly without depth as he regards kavinsky and he trails unnaturally cool fingers down kavinsky's throat as he leans closer. ]
Someone should really shut that mouth of yours.
[ his voice is full of danger and promise. and there's a fire not unlike that of madness lit in his eyes. if this is the kind of game kavinsky wants to play, nico will certainly play along. with a slow growing, lacivicious smirk on his lips. ]
[sometimes, courage means telling someone the truth. being vulnerable, being soft. picking up a sword or a gun, interposing one's flesh and blood between something beloved and a fifty-headed monster. these sorts of courage, nico's better at. no doubt. he's probably killed hydras, i don't even know; the standards of demigods are not achievable by ordinary men.
and despite his unimaginable powers, kavinsky is ordinary.
courage for him, right now, is a lopsided, shit-eating grin at nico. then closing the gap between them, leaning forward off the wall. his mouth tastes like cigarettes when he kisses the demigod. familiar, a little; nico kisses a lot of smokers. he's kissed this smoker before. once upon a dream, and once at an orgy. there's nothing shy or ambivalent about kavinsky's kiss, even if his nerves are jangling and his dick is still in the precontemplative stages. his tongue's out, a rough finger digging into the belt loop in front of nico's left hip.]
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cw sex negativity/sex work joke
a smile's on kavinsky's face the next moment. wide, toothy, playful. definitely still dickish.] You want my outie to turn into an innie? Shit, Angie. I thought you liked what I gave you. You tell me I turned you straight, you'll break my fucking heart, baby. [kavinsky looks hurt the next minute, like swiping a snapchat filter over his previous jackal grin. a sad frown, his too-full lips turning down at the corners so far that his chin creases hilariously. the next minute, the expression snaps back like a rubber band, returning to his former, shit-eating glory.]
Let me guess. You turn tricks in the back room. [he gestures at a likely looking door behind the counter, arches an expectant eyebrow. his eyes are laughing. he's always like that. but there's a little bit of sincere dirt in the crook of his mouth, of course. he's joking, but it's the kind of joke that's not a joke.] Help me find my fucking CD and it'll be just your fifteen percent for the rest.
no subject
the temperature around them instantly drops around ten degrees as nico's aura reacts to the anger building inside him. he'll take whatever teasing kavinsky might give him, but suggesting he's a whore is simply too much. a sneer forms on his lips and he draws closer. his voice is the breath of death, full of warning that should set off all sorts of alarm bells, but if kavinsky doesn't hear them, that's not his only problem. ]
You think you can walk in here, imply that I'm a prostitute and then demand I help you?
no subject
but this is different. his guts turn to ice in his stomach. he retains his composure strictly because he's a liar, his head turning slow, eyelids half-mast. pretending this is fine.
not because it is fine. but because he's really hoping nico catches the fucking hint, and maybe actively tries to make the thing fine again. it occurs to him suddenly and without room for contradiction, that it truly is up to nico; that he's the one with the control here. the back of his neck prickles, prey scenting predator.]
It's a compliment. Hos is hot.
[look, he doesn't know things.]
no subject
a grumbled noise of frustration escapes him and with a flick of his wrist the aura dissipates. it won't do for him to react without thinking and get himself kicked out of eudio, so he'll have to deal with this... annoyance some other way. he rolls his eyes before reaching out, intending to grab kavinsky by the wrist. ]
You're a moron. C'mon.
[ and if kavinsky will let him, he'll tug the other boy to a back room where their backstock can be found. because he somehow doubts that whatever kavinsky is looking for will be found on their main floor with their regular merchandise. ]
no subject
the mouth of hell, maybe. home sweet home for little boy suicides.
this is probably the longest he's ever been with nico without saying words, in absence of a dick in his mouth. but nothing comes to mind as he tracks into the shelves, listening to the terror drain slowly out of his skin.]
no subject
there are differences, though. for one thing, leo is a demigod and has never been known to shut up, even when faced with life or death. kavinsky, on the other hand, is a mortal, even if a powerful one. and nico can't help but feel a bit guilty at the way kavinsky refuses to look at him. he reminds himself he can't always let his anger get the best of him...
after all, it has always been his fatal flaw.
sighing as he releases kavinsky's wrist, he reaches up to cup the other boy's cheek. his palm doesn't settle there, only hovers close. their relationship has always been a bit tumultuous and without the absence of sex, nico is at a bit of a loss. is kavinsky the kind of person that reacts well to physical touch when being consoled? he obviously doesn't know kavinsky as much as he'd like.
eventually dropping his hand, he gives kavinsky a long, slow look-over. ]
You know, you handled that pretty well. You didn't even run away or anything like that.
[ if he looks suitably rebuked, it's because he is. it's about as close to an apology as he can manage at the moment. ]
no subject
but it takes him a second to notice nico's hand there, then to realize the little god is getting a really good look at him. it's reflex, the way kavinsky puts a smile on his face, casual, although his eyes blink a little harder at nico than he usually needs to.]
If I pissed a little, would you be into that?
[kavinsky does this. hides behind bullshit and noise, offending people to rebalance the power in a given moment. but he's off his game right now, even though his eyes hold steady. he's rallying inside of himself, coming back into his own skin. he doesn't run away. sometimes even when he ought to. but he doesn't say the hooker joke that comes to mind, his cheek resting warm in nico's hand.]
Where's my fucking CD, babe?
no subject
Someone should really shut that mouth of yours.
[ his voice is full of danger and promise. and there's a fire not unlike that of madness lit in his eyes. if this is the kind of game kavinsky wants to play, nico will certainly play along. with a slow growing, lacivicious smirk on his lips. ]
I've half a mind to do it myself.
no subject
and despite his unimaginable powers, kavinsky is ordinary.
courage for him, right now, is a lopsided, shit-eating grin at nico. then closing the gap between them, leaning forward off the wall. his mouth tastes like cigarettes when he kisses the demigod. familiar, a little; nico kisses a lot of smokers. he's kissed this smoker before. once upon a dream, and once at an orgy. there's nothing shy or ambivalent about kavinsky's kiss, even if his nerves are jangling and his dick is still in the precontemplative stages. his tongue's out, a rough finger digging into the belt loop in front of nico's left hip.]