[ He hasn't tasted dick, asshole, and it's only because that's absolutely fucking true that Jesse's expression stays as indifferent as the insinuating filth spewing out of Kavinsky's mouth. At least he didn't taste dick like a faggot; at least he didn't go that far. Fucking gay ass shit, that is. That's not helping him think about the fact that Ronan did, though, and that thought has him twiddling his cigarette a little edgily down by his side. Hopefully out of Kavinsky's line of sight.
The light bouncing peripherally from the flashlight's beam casts a dim glow on Kavinsky's pale face, all shrewd and eerie angles, like a devil smirking from the shadows. Jesse watches him while pinned in the flashlight's exposing glare, quiet tension simmering under his unflinching expression. Most of the time, I don't ask. Yeah, no surprise there, you fucking creep, thinks Jesse. There might be something uncomfortably nervous simmering along with that quiet tension. Maybe something contemplative, calculating, scheming. Perhaps a little something coloured guilty as sin. Might also just be downright difficult to read Jesse altogether, with all the things racing through his head at this moment. ]
Right, yeah. [ Drawled, a dry bite to his words, determined to still appear nonchalant. ] Can't stick your dick in what you want, right? Might as well threaten to stick it into the straight guy instead. [ A quick drag of his smoke. ] Lemme guess: I say no, and you tell me 'that's the spirit'. Is that how this game works?
CW for homophobia and rape joke implied
The light bouncing peripherally from the flashlight's beam casts a dim glow on Kavinsky's pale face, all shrewd and eerie angles, like a devil smirking from the shadows. Jesse watches him while pinned in the flashlight's exposing glare, quiet tension simmering under his unflinching expression. Most of the time, I don't ask. Yeah, no surprise there, you fucking creep, thinks Jesse. There might be something uncomfortably nervous simmering along with that quiet tension. Maybe something contemplative, calculating, scheming. Perhaps a little something coloured guilty as sin. Might also just be downright difficult to read Jesse altogether, with all the things racing through his head at this moment. ]
Right, yeah. [ Drawled, a dry bite to his words, determined to still appear nonchalant. ] Can't stick your dick in what you want, right? Might as well threaten to stick it into the straight guy instead. [ A quick drag of his smoke. ] Lemme guess: I say no, and you tell me 'that's the spirit'. Is that how this game works?