[it's probably just a front. probably. kavinsky is probably just a lot of things— mean, careless, callous, casually cruel, indifferent to the joy and suffering of others. he's probably just some asshole in skinny jeans. he probably doesn't care, really, except to get funny butts for stupid jokes, and to experiment with his power, spoilt even when he isn't being actively sadistic.
except
except that doesn't entirely explain it, when he glances over at kurt in his iridescent glory and says nothing, just watching him a moment. then his eyes are back on the glittering, magnetic hovertech road, their frictionless craft whisking them sleekly forward into the night. but he glances back again the next moment, and neither sadism nor being spoiled explain it, either, when he asks,] You okay, man?
no subject
except
except that doesn't entirely explain it, when he glances over at kurt in his iridescent glory and says nothing, just watching him a moment. then his eyes are back on the glittering, magnetic hovertech road, their frictionless craft whisking them sleekly forward into the night. but he glances back again the next moment, and neither sadism nor being spoiled explain it, either, when he asks,] You okay, man?