[kavinsky thinks about ronan's face, the past few days. pupils the right size. bitchy and visibly on-edge, barring a couple of brief exceptions, but not keyed up; not grandiose or tweaking or anything he knows. he looks at jesse's face. the jitter, the ease of speculation. you think it's bad when somebody tripping balls actively tries to act clean in front of somebody who otherwise wouldn'tve had a clue, it's not much better, the straight guy talking around what he's jonesing for and what he's not/willing to do for it.
there's that weird feeling you get, when you save somebody's life a couple of times, and then encounter the possibility that they're still willing to fuck literally anybody in the entire multiverse than you.
ah well. he doesn't even bother with the question actually posed.]
Come into my parlor, said the, [he shrugs, and waves his flashlight, temporarily blinding jesse again.] You know the rest. [he then turns, infinitely unconcerned, and starts to lope back into camp, one of the larger tents posted there.]
no subject
there's that weird feeling you get, when you save somebody's life a couple of times, and then encounter the possibility that they're still willing to fuck literally anybody in the entire multiverse than you.
ah well. he doesn't even bother with the question actually posed.]
Come into my parlor, said the, [he shrugs, and waves his flashlight, temporarily blinding jesse again.] You know the rest. [he then turns, infinitely unconcerned, and starts to lope back into camp, one of the larger tents posted there.]