Open RP Post

[devilofaboy]

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🖤 General squick/trigger list.
🖤 m/m for anything shippy.
🖤 General headcanon for Ronan. If you've got different headcanon/ideas for a psl, hit me with 'em; I'm flexible.
🖤 Ronan's kink list.
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[devilofaboy]

[They'd both been kind of shitty to each other. Not in the dreaming field, but before that. It had been one of the cornerstones of their friendship. Ronan had never minded, it'd just seemed like something normal to him. He'd never really thought as poorly of Kavinsky as he'd acted like he had at times. But he'd never seen him as vulnerable before, either. He'd never properly understood, somehow, that the other boy was just as capable of being hurt by things as anyone else. He really had seemed untouchable and maybe that'd always been part of the appeal, that Kavinsky didn't take shit from anyone.

Seeing him now, like this, Ronan knew he'd been wholeheartedly wrong. Kavinsky was strong but he was strong like Ronan was; there was still a limit, maybe a lot of his was bravado too, covering up the hurt he felt with sharp words. Sometimes that was easier than letting people in.

Subconsciously, he held his breath when Kavinsky approached, eyelashes fluttering. His heart thudded in his chest and- he half expected the other boy to kiss him. Ronan was half tempted to do it himself. Instead, he nodded, sliding his arms around K, hands pressing against his back, and buried his face in his shoulder. His throat ached with the struggle of holding back tears, but he refused to cry. It wasn't that he was trying to be strong for Kavinsky, but it was hard to be vulnerable.]

I wouldn't be able to stand it if you were gone.

[Mumbled and muffled against the other boy's shoulder, thick with emotion.]

[dreamforger]

[He wanted to kiss him. But he also- he needed this more.

Ronan's arms slid around him, and it feels... Kavinsky doesn't really have the words for it. He'd say that it felt like home, but that's never been a place he associates with comfort. But it feels like his heart stops racing, like the world stops scraping against his nerves, wearing him raw. He feels like he can breathe, like he could stay here like this forever. Ronan's face presses into his shoulder, K's fingers sliding up along the line of his spine, curling lightly against the stubble of his skull, just rasping his fingertips softly against his head.

He leaned into Ronan, his other arm curling around him, fingers clutching in his shirt; needy and almost desperate. Because all of a sudden, Kavinsky's suicide attempt was terrifying to himself, too. Not just because of how he'd hurt people he cared about, and could have done worse. Or because of the assurance that he could get through this, and had thrown it away for a boy. Which are all valid, and true.

But it suddenly hits him that he never would have known, never would have had this chance.

It might have been the fact that he'd tried to kill himself that they've been talking about, but it was because he was alive that they could. And that was harrowing in a way that was new and different. But he couldn't have explained it, couldn't have said it outloud, so he just nuzzled softly into the side of Ronan's neck even as he pulled him into his shoulder. Holding onto him like Ronan was holding him together.

So when he finally responds to Ronan, his voice is rough and strained.]

I'm still here.

[He says it like he needs to hear it himself, as much as he says it for Ronan. His eyes feel damp, but he's trying to not seem like a total wreck. He wants to kiss him, even just once. And maybe cuddle on the couch and maybe try and convince him to stay, just for the night. Even if they keep their clothes on, just to have him close.]

[devilofaboy]

[He almost hadn't been. He almost hadn't been here to have this moment and it was- it was terrifying in a way Ronan had only felt a few times before. He owed Kavinsky's boys for finding him and saving him, even if they were probably still upset with him. He couldn't blame them for it. He hadn't thought- who knew, really, what would push someone to their limit? Who knew what the final straw would be?

He held onto the material of Kavinsky's shirt tightly like he was afraid the other boy would disappear if he let go. He wasn't sure what was worse; the fact he would have never known how Kavinsky felt if he'd been successful or the fact K'd tried to kill himself at all. Kavinsky deserved better in life than being pushed to this.

Tears burned Ronan's eyes, and for a moment he let them fall, sliding down his cheeks or seeping into Kavinsky's shirt. It wasn't especially obvious; he wasn't sobbing, his breath was just- a little uneven.]

I don't want you to feel like that again.

[When he'd tried to kill himself. Ronan would do anything he could to keep it from ever happening again. He didn't know how, he wasn't good at this kind of thing, but- he could try. He'd figure it out, one way or another. Maybe it wasn't as complicated as he worried it was or maybe it was every bit as difficult. He didn't know how to save a life. But he knew how to pick up broken pieces. Maybe that was a good enough place to start.]

[dreamforger]

[Kavinsky notices the way that Ronan's tears leak into his shirt, but he doesn't say anything, doesn't call him on it. He would have, before. Flinching at the intimacy and saying something sharp because it was better than admitting to how it really made him feel.

He hadn't said it wasn't Ronan's fault just to make him feel better, less guilty. K had come to recognize that his own hand was in how they'd ended up there, too. Being cruel to each other had hardly been anything new. So he could forgive him for not seeing how deeply it would cut. The fact that it clearly hurt the other boy made it easier. Not because K wanted him to suffer, but just- he could tell that he cared. In a fucked up way, his tears felt like love.

His words are soft, and Kavinsky almost- he almost tries to flinch from it, from being that honest, that undone. He already feels all raw edges, but with Ronan in his arms, his tears in his shirt and his own smothered into the other boy's neck -- he can't. Pretending like death was meaningless, like he hadn't scared himself would be too much like lying.]

I don't either. I'm- trying. I don't feel like that now- with you.

[Saying it was almost as embarrassing as it was painful. And he knew, from far too many group therapy sessions that he'd unceremoniously dubbed fucking bullshit, that hanging his life on one person wasn't fair. Either to himself, or to them, or the people that cared about him. And he wanted to be fair to Ronan, to his boys. They deserved that. Not that he was going to say that outloud.

But he thought that maybe- maybe if it wasn't too much, he could at least hold onto Ronan's hand while he tried to figure this shit out.]

Can you stay?

[It's a soft question, not tinged with sexuality but just quiet longing. He just wants to keep him close for a while. He wants to hold onto him until he can convince himself this is real, until he can memorize his heartbeat. He just wants to keep his arms around him for all the time that he can steal.]

[devilofaboy]

[He didn't want to think that the reason Kavinsky could be okay now was entirely because of him. He wanted to think that the other boy would have been alright whether or not Ronan had visited him today. Ronan didn't think he was dying over. Again, he had to remind himself it wasn't entirely his fault. He'd just been what pushed Kavinsky over the edge. Which still felt like it was his fault.

He wanted K to be okay on his own two feet and to not need Ronan, but he also- he wanted to be there for him for the time he did need someone. It was complicated, but- he didn't want all of K's mental health hinged on him. Because he couldn't trust himself not to be an asshole in the future and ruin things. He'd already done it once, after all. He wouldn't do it on purpose, though.

Swallowing, he took a deep breath. Then another. It was a wonder he'd caught Kavinsky alone, probably. Where were his boys? From how hard Proko had punched him, Ronan would've figured they wouldn't stray too far.

Doing his best to conceal a sniffle, he nodded.]

Yeah, I can.

[He didn't have a curfew, he didn't need to be home before a certain time or risk turning into a pumpkin. No- that was wrong. It would've been his car that turned into a pumpkin. Either way, he was in no hurry to leave. He couldn't imagine just walking away again now, even if it would be far less devastating than before. He wanted to hold Kavinsky and touch him and just exist in the same space with him.]