[ 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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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.]