Work Text:
"Move in."
Adam didn't doubt his hearing. The room had been quiet but for his own short breath around Kavinsky's dick. It was just so incongruous. These were things you discussed in any other setting. He pulled back with a little succion sound. It was easier when Kavinsky let him be in control. It usually lasted longer, too.
"Not now, K."
Kavinsky sighed. He had one hand in Adam's hair but didn't use it until he came. Adam braced himself to be the receiving end. He didn't spit it back on Kavinsky's stomach right away, which he decided was an improvement.
"When ?"
Kavinsky was annoying when he had something in mind. Adam was still swallowing. There had been a lot in his mouth. Still, when he was done, he felt like the question was still hanging.
"Never."
"It'll be more convenient."
Adam had to admit that it would be. He wouldn't keep renting St Agnes' room while away at college. Moving with everything just meant moving out of Virginia. Kavinsky knew he had so little he could just take everything. It was more of a statement. He didn't answer.
---
"You deserve to die." Prokopenko shrugged. "God, I wish you did."
He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Another day, another agony. The microwave clock was functional but there was no guarantee that it was right. Kavinsly straddled him, reckless.
"You're the closest to him I've ever dreamt."
Proko clicked his tongue. The clock struck eleven twice. "I wish you'd get stuck in a loop, your own cyclical hell."
"What for ?"
"To make you regret."
He didn't even care what Kavinsky should be forced to live over and over... there were so many fuck-ups to choose from.
"Christmas was a few days ago, baby."
Someone tresspassed to walk in the kitchen. He recognized Adam's silhouette. Couldn't make eye contact.
"He's gonna leave you."
Kavinsky hummed. Adam was a touchy topic, somehow. The magician was his last parcel of anything that wasn't toxic smoke. He was breakable, broken, yet he held on. They did. There was no point in shoving Kavinsky off his one night stand's lap or fighting Proko's curse.
"Why would he ?"
"You've got no plans," Proko said as though it was obvious. "He's gonna gather his things and leave you without a word."
"No, I'm not."
Proko looked up. Behind Kavinsky stood his disheveled boyfriend. He in a simple apparel made of an oversized shirt and boxers. His accessory — a mug of scorching tea — completed the aesthetic. Three simple, definitive words.
"Why wouldn't you ?"
"Because he's coming with me."
Kavinsky slowly turned his head. He was rather surprised by the idea that the night could have more than menacing shadows to offer. Adam kissed him. He tasted unexpectedly sweet, having treated himself to microwable hot chocolate. Kissing Kavinsky while he was sat on Proko's lap was a statement. He definitely didn't enjoy the show in the way Kavinsky would have.
"Cute," Proko muttered. "He's already got you on a leash."
Adam had somehow learned that this was as bad as insults could get between them. He broke the kiss, asserting the situation with alert eyes. As soon as the distraction stopped, Kavinsky returned to staring at Proko.
"Get out of my sight."
---
Adam was tired enough that he felt drugged, too much to peacefully fall asleep. Kavinsky laid across the width, his head weighing on Adam's legs. They didn't talk. He didn't want to. Maybe that he was already thinking of ways to get back at his forgery.
"Did you mean it ?" Kavinsky suddenly asked.
He sounded sober. Adam suddenly regretted being this tired.
"What ?"
"That you wouldn't leave me behind."
"Yeah," Adam answered, without skipping a beat.
Beyond taking him wherever he went, that meant more working on them. Realigning the stars, over and over to keep working. Kavinsky must have been satisfied with the answer because he didn't feel compelled to ask more. Adam woke up to numb legs. As romantic as it sounds, Kavinsky somehow falling asleep on his lap wasn't the peak of comfort. He moved his legs with great effort and rolled to the other side of the bed. Kavinsky sleepily protested. He crawled to a more conventional position, gaping at his strained neck.
"You sound like an old lady," Adam tossed.
"Fuck you," he answered, not that invested in the verbal joust.
He took a pill. Adam's mood darkened. He didn't know what he had hoped for. Waking up next to Kavinsky was as wild as sleeping in the same room as him. He hurriedly jumped to his feet and slammed the bathroom's door behind him. A few minutes in and Kavinsky let himself in.
He wordlessly closed the door and started undressing. Maybe this pill was strong despite making up for his neck pain. Maybe he shouldn't have taken one upon waking up.
"Wait."
It was painful to see him go. He wasn't really choosing the drugs over Adam, but he was lost to them every single time.