[ 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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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.]