[he was pretty, kavinsky almost says, but it seems like a stupid thing to argue about.] The other one was different, [is all he says, even though that doesn't seem like something he'd say. eudio maybe actually taught him a thing or two about multiplicity. it's hard to not learn something about multiplicity when you literally meet three, four versions of the same individual, and they're all ever so slightly different.
he scratches his tummy, growing sullen again. he had rather thought, after being stuck in the back seat, that it'd be over. but no, rafa insists on continuing the lecture, when he'd much sooner just pretend it hadn't happened, like a cat erasing a recent humiliation from memory.
he closes his eyes and wonders how much he could get away with pointing out he's fucking drunk. not much, he supposes.]
You think I made a point? That's nice. You know I'd just make you another car. It'd take more than one fucking wreck to kill you. Why are we doing this right now? I got no cock to block. [... ...] That came out wrong. I got no-- nobody to cock. Blocking... [he exhales loudly and slumps deeper in his seat.]
[ Rafa glances around to shoot him a furious look. ]
I would live. Cars can be replaced. You cannot be replaced. Foolish boy. [ Rafa mutters something angry, colourful and Italian under his breath. ] You are not a vampire yet.
[ But that's typical Kavinsky, isn't it? So obsessed with his own hurt feelings that he doesn't realise when he is cared about, or worried about. He has no respect for his own safety. He forgets that he's still human, and fragile.
Rafa doesn't forget it. He puts his elbow up against the window and rests that hand against his head. The other stays on the wheel, and seems at ease, even though Rafa is anything but. ]
I am sorry, about Vex, and about Ronan. You deserve better than they have given you. That is not to say I think you did no wrong, but you are not wrong to want more. What ever happened between you and Aric, Kavinsky? He wanted you and only you. I know, because he certainly did not want me.
I dumped him, [kavinsky says, after a moment's pause. he doesn't notice that rafaello is tense, partly because the vampire is a rather convincing actor, and partly because he's a turd lord with tunnel vision right now. (by 'right now,' we mean-- always. or at least usually.)] When I decided to be with Vex, I broke up with his death god ass. Figured it was the merciful thing to do, you know? Like shooting a lame horse.
[it's not the most flattering sentence ever said, but the spirit of it is accurate if you ask kavinsky, who is generally known for his clear and unbiased perception of people;;;; the balm that rafa offers, in his reassurances, is-- nice. chronically bitter, nasty little piece of work that kavinsky is, it doesn't do as much as perhaps it should. but nor does rafaello go entirely unheard.]
Bet you feel bad for him. I know you got issues about being runner-up or what if people fuck off on you. Dick Grayson used to talk about it. [it used to be, kavinsky could only dig his head out of his own ass and look at somebody else if he had something to get out of them, some ulterior motive or angle of attack, some gory wound to inflict for fun. these days, though, he's less categorically awful about it.] At least you got people to spread it out over, though. Aric's like, triple exponentially fucked.
[ Rafa had in fact been preparing to speak to the subject of Aric, but then Kavinsky derails him. Kavinsky is remarkably good at that. He doesn't even seem to have to try very hard. ]
So that is what Dick thought of me.
[ It's not, most likely. Kavinsky also has a way of twisting things to make them sound worse than they are. Rafa knows it, but it still heats his blood to know they were in some way talking about him. Why were they talking about him? He'd love to know, and doesn't want to ask. ]
Well, that is charming. I do not feel bad for Aric, I feel for you.
[ He pushes a swift hand through his hair, and hauls the car through an unreasonably sharp and jarring turn. ]
There you are, wanting so badly to be the one someone loves, and there he is giving it to you and you leave him for someone still grieving over another. I do not understand you.
[an embarrassing thing happens to kavinsky where tears start to sting his eyes, which is humiliating and terrible for him. even worse than it ever used to be for even ronan, probably. they always had the same ideas about bullshit masculinity, but kavinsky has always been distinctly worried about it. he'd rather have needles in his eyes than salt water.
he is looking out of the back seat and passenger window now, rigidly, his face averted out of the scope of the rearview mirror. but rafa can probably smell it.
no stories about dick grayson are going to get him out of this one.]
No.
[it's an uncharacteristically short reply, especially for kavinsky, who does love to hear himself talk. it rings of the truth, hard-won, dug out of him on pain of more questions, more incisive, painful truths. rafa has been onto him some time, now. and maybe that's what family is like. close, in a way that doesn't come easily or often. and just as rare and difficult, kavinsk shuts the hell up, after that. and thinks about it, until it's time to shoot guns and speak like a civilized (sort of) adult (sort of).]
no subject
he scratches his tummy, growing sullen again. he had rather thought, after being stuck in the back seat, that it'd be over. but no, rafa insists on continuing the lecture, when he'd much sooner just pretend it hadn't happened, like a cat erasing a recent humiliation from memory.
he closes his eyes and wonders how much he could get away with pointing out he's fucking drunk. not much, he supposes.]
You think I made a point? That's nice. You know I'd just make you another car. It'd take more than one fucking wreck to kill you. Why are we doing this right now? I got no cock to block. [... ...] That came out wrong. I got no-- nobody to cock. Blocking... [he exhales loudly and slumps deeper in his seat.]
no subject
I would live. Cars can be replaced. You cannot be replaced. Foolish boy. [ Rafa mutters something angry, colourful and Italian under his breath. ] You are not a vampire yet.
[ But that's typical Kavinsky, isn't it? So obsessed with his own hurt feelings that he doesn't realise when he is cared about, or worried about. He has no respect for his own safety. He forgets that he's still human, and fragile.
Rafa doesn't forget it. He puts his elbow up against the window and rests that hand against his head. The other stays on the wheel, and seems at ease, even though Rafa is anything but. ]
I am sorry, about Vex, and about Ronan. You deserve better than they have given you. That is not to say I think you did no wrong, but you are not wrong to want more. What ever happened between you and Aric, Kavinsky? He wanted you and only you. I know, because he certainly did not want me.
no subject
[it's not the most flattering sentence ever said, but the spirit of it is accurate if you ask kavinsky, who is generally known for his clear and unbiased perception of people;;;; the balm that rafa offers, in his reassurances, is-- nice. chronically bitter, nasty little piece of work that kavinsky is, it doesn't do as much as perhaps it should. but nor does rafaello go entirely unheard.]
Bet you feel bad for him. I know you got issues about being runner-up or what if people fuck off on you. Dick Grayson used to talk about it. [it used to be, kavinsky could only dig his head out of his own ass and look at somebody else if he had something to get out of them, some ulterior motive or angle of attack, some gory wound to inflict for fun. these days, though, he's less categorically awful about it.] At least you got people to spread it out over, though. Aric's like, triple exponentially fucked.
no subject
So that is what Dick thought of me.
[ It's not, most likely. Kavinsky also has a way of twisting things to make them sound worse than they are. Rafa knows it, but it still heats his blood to know they were in some way talking about him. Why were they talking about him? He'd love to know, and doesn't want to ask. ]
Well, that is charming. I do not feel bad for Aric, I feel for you.
[ He pushes a swift hand through his hair, and hauls the car through an unreasonably sharp and jarring turn. ]
There you are, wanting so badly to be the one someone loves, and there he is giving it to you and you leave him for someone still grieving over another. I do not understand you.
Did you hate Aric? Is that what it was?
no subject
he is looking out of the back seat and passenger window now, rigidly, his face averted out of the scope of the rearview mirror. but rafa can probably smell it.
no stories about dick grayson are going to get him out of this one.]
No.
[it's an uncharacteristically short reply, especially for kavinsky, who does love to hear himself talk. it rings of the truth, hard-won, dug out of him on pain of more questions, more incisive, painful truths. rafa has been onto him some time, now. and maybe that's what family is like. close, in a way that doesn't come easily or often. and just as rare and difficult, kavinsk shuts the hell up, after that. and thinks about it, until it's time to shoot guns and speak like a civilized (sort of) adult (sort of).]