Chapter Text
"You're ugly as fuck."
Some days, Adam can handle Kavinsky's sarcasm. He'd greet him back, often in a more proper way. More importantly, he wouldn't take offense. But that's just some days. When this route is not taken, that means he is already aware of his naturally unflattering body. Kavinsky's mockeries are the last nail on his coffin of self-deprecation.
In this case, he'd be hurt. And when he's hurt, he snaps back. He can't taunt Kavinsky about his body but he has manny arrows to shoot. Kavinsky is often the first to yell. Adam is the first to throw a punch. They do not need anyone to start bickering. They do not need anyone to stop.
Today appears to be one of these days.
"Then stop staring."
"I'd like to." Kavinsky laughed. "But such a physical disaster is fascinating."
In the best case, Kavinsky doesn't call him names at all. He simply lets him sink in the sofa and take a well-deserved nap from which he wakes up late. He doesn't know what happens to him between the moment when he closes his eyes and when he wakes up in Kavinsky's bed. He simply knows that his sleep is too heavy to be natural.
Today, Adam doesn't go to sit next to him. He settled for the counter instead and closed his eyes, elbows on the polished surface, his chin resting on the back of his hands.
"Give me a break."
"Get over here."
Kavinsky didn't wait. He looked over his shoulder to see that Adam wasn't moving. Obviously.
"I want your scrawny ass on this couch. Don't make me repeat a third time."
"It's always about you," Adam spat. "What if I don't want to ? I'm exhausted."
He heard Kavinsky's annoyed curse. He didn't notice him standing up, busy summoning the most calming mental images he could. Despite being startled, he managed not to be cornered straight away.
"If I cared about what people wanted, they'd know."
"Let go. I'm leaving."
Kavinsky firmly held his left wrist. It isn't the first time that Adam threatened to leave. He didn't seem to have enough will to do so and Kavinsky planned on toying with his weaknesses until the string broke.
"Where to ?"
Adam didn't reply. Kavinsky flipped him and pushed Adam's hand in his own back, forcefully bending him on the counter. Adam breathed faster. He is both mad and in pain.
"Do you think you'll ignite the smallest spark of interest in someone else ?"
"I already did."
His voice his raw and cavernous because to be heard, he has to stick his chin up. Fighting against Kavinsky is pointless. He's like a snake : when he holds his prey, there's nearly no way of freeing the poor creature.
"A girl."
The disgust in Kavinsky's voice made him shiver. It dropped on his raw nerves, paining him as surely as if his skin had been turned inside down.
"You're so unappealing," Kavinsky repeated. "All bones and no flesh." He tugged on Adam's curls. "Hair look dirty no matter what. Probably are."
"Stop. I don't want to—"
Adam squirmed in his grip. He couldn't help his unbuckled belt, his jeans pushed to his knees and Kavinsky grinding against his ass.
"At least your hands have stopped looking like clay. What lotion could you afford ?"
"Stop."
Kavinsky royally ignores his absence of consent, but it never fails to move him. If it can't be helped, at least Adam finds a little comfort in making him realize that he's doing wrong.
"Stop what ?"
Kavinsky sounds amused. Because people give this word so much power when it's a mere sound. He freed Adam's head from his shirt without letting him take his arms out, and twisted it to bring his elbows together.
"No," Adam simply repeated.
Kavinsky took a pink apple from the fruit basket and pressed his against Adam's lips, urging him to bit it. Adam submitted without making a fuss. He sank his teeth deep in the healthy flesh. Drops of saliva and juice hit the counter. He struggled more upon remembering that Kavinsky probably didn't wear a condom. The apple rolled back to the fruit basket, bearing the mark of his teeth.
"Don't fuck me if you're not protected."
"Why not ?"
"You're the last person I would ever have unprotected sex with. Hell," he panted, "you're not even on the list."
Adam kicked his shin hard. He hoped it was a shin. He didn't care, as long as it hurt enough. Kavinsky groaned and momentarily loosened his grip on the shirt. Adam took advantage of this to push him, which didn't give him nearly enough time to fully get rid of his jeans. He punched Kavinsky's face and finally managed to wriggle out of his restraining clothes.
"Let's say you get out of here. Naked, dilated pupils— Where would you go ?"
From Kavinsky's words, he couldn't tell whether he planned on letting him go as far as he could or if he'd have to fight his way to the door.
"It's none of your business."
He slowly walked around the counter, to the kitchen's entrance. Kavinsky watched. There's blood around his mouth. Adam still feels the sharp edges of the counter against his bony hips. He makes it to the door, his sight getting darker with each second.
Someone is urging him to run. He's pretty sure it's not a hallucination.
"Come on !"
Kavinsky roars something in the kitchen. Metallic items clatter on the floor. He slams the door and starts running.
"What the fuck are you still doing around him ?"
Adam starts losing track of what he did and what he did not. He probably entered the car himself but someone else closed the door. He crossed his arms on his chest, curling up around the void.
He blabbers a mix of 'sorry' and 'thank you' and 'you gifted me the hand lotion' then collapses.
"You can't go back there."
Adam wants to oppose that he can, as in he is able to, but out of respect for his savior, he doesn't. None of these actions would be wise. And talking back in this case is disrespectful.
"I can't go back to my parents either."
"Stay here. I'll get your things back."
Adam doesn't realize the eventual loss yet. But everything is still at Kavinsky's— his clothes, money, papers. The car's keys. He's currently wearing a shirt and some jeans Ronan let him pick in his wardrobe. They were too big for him, but at least it was comfy.
"If he didn't burn them already."
"He won't. You'll have no reason to return otherwise."
Adam was slowly recovering from what he had been injected. It made him sleepy. More compliant, as Ronan made have noticed.
"I'm not sure."
He doesn't question what Ronan was doing there at the time being yet. He doesn't fully realize— maybe he could have died. Maybe Kavinsky would have.
"Trust me."
"Do I have the choice ?"
Ronan carefully took the burning hot mug from Adam's hands and placed it on the small table at their feet.
"Whoever told you otherwise lied."
"Kavinsky told me, and he appeared to be right."
"What else did he tell you ?"
The drug mostly confused him but he remembered well enough. He told Ronan everything and maybe he didn't have to, maybe he had the choice of shutting him out but he did not want to.
"I'll fuck him up so bad," was Ronan's conclusion.
Adam laughed. Or wept. It felt the same at this point.
"He doesn't need you, then. Or anyone, for that matter."
Ronan didn't dare to touch him. Or he didn't want to. Adam wouldn't be too disappointed if that was the case. God, all he wanted when coming back from work was somewhere to rest his head.
"Tell me that I'm not a waste of space."
He had lost his pride since a while. Ronan groaned and cradled him in his arms.
"You're not. God— you're not a waste of anything."
He held him like he meant it. Adam believed his words. Maybe all truths didn't hurt. Not all kisses end with harsh bites. Not all love ends before it has even grown.