[Kavinsky didn't mean to confess to Ronan, exactly. It's just-- he can't help himself. Ronan is clearly upset, and he can't help saying the words, even if he doesn't say the words that he means. It doesn't take a lot to figure out what he's really saying though.
When he insists that Gansey will love it, he means that Kavinsky would love it. That it would matter just that Ronan cared so much- if this worry was aimed at him. If the name on his mouth wasn't Dick Gansey.]
You don't have to go back.
[This isn't really what he means either. This is softer, not punctuated with a derisive fuck him, as if Gansey didn't deserve the gift if he refused it for not being perfect. There's something vulnerable to how K says the words, instead: not like he thinks Ronan will accept, but like he says it so that he knows that he could. So that he knew that Kavinsky... he wanted him to stay. Or at least he wanted him to come back. But he's never been good at saying the real words, the ones under the insults and the gay jokes and the races and this.
The truth, the real truth is this: he wants him. How long has he wanted Ronan for?
Kavinsky is half-high and they're both topless and the sun beats down around them, heating the metal of the car. And he wants to kiss him, he wants Ronan to kiss him instead: but that's an easy sort of recurring daydream, the idea all but haunted him. He wasn't really expecting an answer so the silence doesn't seem strange. Not until he realizes that Ronan is looking at him.
Kavinsky swallows but meets his eyes, a slow blink of dark lashes over his dark eyes. And maybe how he looks at him says more than the words. He'd thought he knew how to play this; that Ronan would need him as much as Kavinsky did. But his heart skips and he feels like he's maybe in over his head. Like he could lose something he needed- give away too much or not enough and not know which.
He's never done this before. Not where it mattered. But there's an ache, longing. He wasn't holding Ronan's hand with his dreaming because K was a good friend -- he was here holding his hand because he wanted to hold his hand.]
dreamfield au :333
When he insists that Gansey will love it, he means that Kavinsky would love it. That it would matter just that Ronan cared so much- if this worry was aimed at him. If the name on his mouth wasn't Dick Gansey.]
You don't have to go back.
[This isn't really what he means either. This is softer, not punctuated with a derisive fuck him, as if Gansey didn't deserve the gift if he refused it for not being perfect. There's something vulnerable to how K says the words, instead: not like he thinks Ronan will accept, but like he says it so that he knows that he could. So that he knew that Kavinsky... he wanted him to stay. Or at least he wanted him to come back. But he's never been good at saying the real words, the ones under the insults and the gay jokes and the races and this.
The truth, the real truth is this: he wants him. How long has he wanted Ronan for?
Kavinsky is half-high and they're both topless and the sun beats down around them, heating the metal of the car. And he wants to kiss him, he wants Ronan to kiss him instead: but that's an easy sort of recurring daydream, the idea all but haunted him. He wasn't really expecting an answer so the silence doesn't seem strange. Not until he realizes that Ronan is looking at him.
Kavinsky swallows but meets his eyes, a slow blink of dark lashes over his dark eyes. And maybe how he looks at him says more than the words. He'd thought he knew how to play this; that Ronan would need him as much as Kavinsky did. But his heart skips and he feels like he's maybe in over his head. Like he could lose something he needed- give away too much or not enough and not know which.
He's never done this before. Not where it mattered. But there's an ache, longing. He wasn't holding Ronan's hand with his dreaming because K was a good friend -- he was here holding his hand because he wanted to hold his hand.]