(no subject)

[rockabillyboy]

We need to talk.

He's been turning it over in his head since that conversation with Poison where they'd talked about degrees. He doesn't really know what he wants - he doesn't really know what to do for the best. He's been meditating on and off for a lot of the morning, trying to clear his head, trying to get his thoughts in order. It's not really helping. He checks his phone for the hundredth time.

I'll be at the Center until dinner time.

Comments

[rockabillyboy]

"Okay, well..." Jack turns it over in his head. "Let's just say that I asked him to go hard on me and I ended up with I don't know how many loads plugged into my ass over night." He flushes violently. "So...maybe we're on the same page?"

[mitsubishievo]

Kavinsky let that knowledge run through him, quiet, overly warm. His cheeks felt a little warm. He pushed the thought of it to arms length and looked at it more critically, but that didn't stop him from squirming just a little.

So he laughed. "Okay, yeah, you're right, we can't talk about this shit if we're supposed to be on best behavior. Shit man. I'm gonna have to start talking to a priest again."

[rockabillyboy]

Jack snorts a laugh at that, shaking his head and swatting at Kavinsky with the back of his hand.

"Yeah. I meditate about this stuff a lot. Getting it straight in my head."

[mitsubishievo]

"Did you know you were into it, even a little, before you and Poison started messing around?" Kavinsky had learned, quickly, that he liked this sort of thing, but it was not an education that he necessarily recommended. "Like--man, I don't watch porn, but I gotta imagine there's, like, shit you can watch about it or something? I dunno."

[rockabillyboy]

"I mean, yeah, I watch a lot of porn," says Jack, grinning. "And I knew I liked that kind of thing in porn? But doing it myself is something totally different."

[mitsubishievo]

"Yeah, I can imagine," Kavinsky said with a snort. Not just because porn was, in Kavinsky's opinion, comically bullshit, but because thinking about stuff and actually having it done to you were such totally different things.

He drummed his fingers on his knees. "Okay. Okay, trivia time. 'cause, like, Poison does his whole girly clothes thing sometimes? So is that, like. Does that really get you goin'?"

[rockabillyboy]

"The full femme thing?" Jack's eyebrows rise. "Yeah, it gets me going. I love full femme days." He grins. "Not that I don't also love like, boxer briefs, because I do, but his legs look incredible in stockings."

[mitsubishievo]

Kavinsky was very soft and quiet for a moment, stare sort of vacant up at the ceiling. Meditating, maybe. Thinking, definitely. Then, very carefully, he said, "I might still have some of the stuff I bought when I got turned into a girl? Like. A dress and some things? Just...if that ever comes up, I guess."

[rockabillyboy]

"You don't have to do that for me unless you're into it," says Jack, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I mean...I'm into it when it's him because it just...suits him, you know? You've seen him in make-up."

[mitsubishievo]

"It's kinda fun?" Kavinsky confessed. Then he laughed at himself, feeling properly teenagerish about this. He'd never have done something like this--confessing to wearing a dress, let alone liking it--back in Henrietta, and it made him feel young and stupid and sort of nice. "The second time Poison and I talked, like, it was at a drag night, and I'd let my friend make me up a little. So, I dunno, like. Yeah, I'm never gonna be like Poison is about it, but it's fun?"

Then, Kavinsky laughed again. "Plus, like. Newt is a monster about that dress and me in red lipstick, man. Fuckin' fantastic."

[rockabillyboy]

Jack arches an eyebrow and then he shifts until he can lie down next to Kavinsky on the floor, shoulder to shoulder.

"Yeah?"

[mitsubishievo]

Not having Jack sitting up over him was nice. They laid there, quiet and still for a second, shoulders touching, hands very nearly. Kavinsky felt flushed and embarrassed to be talking about this out of the context of just doing it.

"I mean, we only did it once, so far. When I wasn't a girl, I mean. These fuckin'...modest damn panties and this dress that I am Goddamn impressed I fit into normally and..." Kavinsky laughed. "God, he was so fuckin' about it, it was spectacular."

[rockabillyboy]

"Oh, man," says Jack, huffing a laugh at that. "Yeah, I could totally get behind that. I guess it's like Poison's really, really into it when I wear a suit."

[mitsubishievo]

Kavinsky smiled and, honestly, reported, "I've been around too many prep school boys in uniform and interns and shit for the suit thing to really get me goin'. That's all Poison's field, man. But, man. You'd've fit right in at my school, I think. Clean cut lookin' motherfucker, bad as sin underneath? Think that might've been an unwritten bylaw for acceptance."

[rockabillyboy]

"I've got a public persona to maintain, man," says Jack, arching his back a little and rolling his eyes. "Prince Vincent, remember? Mayor's son. Googleable as shit."

[mitsubishievo]

"You ain't Googleable as anything here, motherfucker," Kavinsky said with a smile and a laugh. He kept his eyes trained at the ceiling as he felt Jack shift and squirm next to him for a second. "Glorious anonymity. Are you on the clock right now? Are we stealing company time?"

[rockabillyboy]

"True. I can get up to all sorts of things." He shakes his head, closing his eyes. "I did a shift this morning, so I booked out this place for a couple of hours to try and get my head on straight."

[mitsubishievo]

"Hate to break this to you man but there ain't nothin' about you that's straight," Kavinsky said with a bit of a snort. He whacked Jack, gently, in the stomach with the back of his hand. "C'mon. Let's go get coffee or something before I fall asleep in here."

[rockabillyboy]

"Also true."

Jack pushes to his feet fluidly and holds his hands out to Kavinsky. "C'mon. I'll buy."

[mitsubishievo]

Kavinsky grabbed Jack's wrist and rolled to his feet, mostly through the strength of his own legs. Still, it was nice to have another moment of touching him, before he carefully tucked his hands into his pockets. He hoped his smile wasn't too ridiculous.

"I'll try to be modest or what the fuck ever. At least the coffee shops around here aren't, like, Starbucks prices or something."

[rockabillyboy]

Jack's the kind of person who follows through on promises so, when he helps Kavinsky up, he leans back, puts his weight into it. He squeezes Kavinsky's hand before he lets it go. Once they're on their feet, he tugs on his hoodie and zips it up. "C'mon. There's a good place down the street."

[mitsubishievo]

There was a way to Jack helping him up like that, the flex in his arm and shoulder and the little rock back on his heels, and there was that swoop, that reel in his stomach. Now, it was not so dreadful a thing. Still quiet, still private, still something that would never be. But it wasn't a sentence of longing. He hoped.

"Lead on, man."

[rockabillyboy]

Jack wanders through the Zen Center, smiling at people he knows until they're out on the street. He nudges Kavinsky with his shoulder. "You doing okay there, man?"

[mitsubishievo]

"Yeah," Kavinsky said with only a moment's pause to think about it. Was he? It seemed real and true to say yes. Not untrue at least. He appreciated that.

They were out of the Center now, and Kavinsky's fingers itched to be against Jack's, but he held back. Tucked his hands into his pockets and smiled at Jack a little sheepishly.

"Yeah, just. Paradigm shift or whatever. Like, in November, I wasn't expected to be fucking anyone, and then I'm just--made of emotions or whatever. What the hell is that about?"

[rockabillyboy]

"You're growing as a person or something," says Jack, with his eyebrows raised. "I mean. Believe me. I never saw any of this coming, either. Back in San Francisco."