Kavinsky doesn't know what he wants or needs and he ends up at Nick's door. He's been awake for-- a while. He's tired and Tate hasn't moved in yet and if he looks at Ronan again today he's going to do something regrettable.
He doesn't want to let him go. Cut him in half like the baby before King Solomon. Force Adam to fucking choose because he would sooner have half than nothing.
He could just... dream him back. He could have his dream boy and that's that.
He could dream the contract anew, but Ronan's onto that shit now and he's pretty sure Adam is, too, though he's never brought it up and Kavinsky hasn't either.
So he's at Nick's door, leaning on it while he waits for him to answer and hoping to all get out that Reggie isn't around. He might throw that meatheat out a window if he has to look at him, if one more fucking oblivious asshole takes something from him.
Just in case Nick is hesitating for a reason, Kavinsky fires off a text: It's me.
Nick does happen to be home. He's in the living room, inside of a conjuring circle written out with chalk, careful and easy and perfect, but he hasn't conjured anything yet. He's worried that he could try, but nothing would come of it, that nothing would come out of it.
And he doesn't want to find out that the thing he's proudest of won't work in this place.
He looks up at the sound of the knock, and he unfolds, getting up and opening the door. He sees K, and opens it wider, so that he can come in. "I definitely wasn't thinking that would work," he says, but he smiles just a little. "Hey."
"Thinking what would work...?" Kavinsky slips into the apartment and he barks out a startled laugh when he sees the weird circle on the floor. He rubs his face. Yeah, Nick would not be the first person to tease him about being some underworld or damned thing.
"You trying to summon me, baby? You know I've got a phone."
"You know I'm not comfortable with cell phones," he says with a laugh, going to the wetbar, and pouring Kavinsky a shot of something strong. He pushes it over to him across the table; he doesn't need to make up anything to come and visit. They're friends.
Kavinsky shrugs and accepts the drink. "Just wanted to see you," he says, just worn out enough to tell a partial truth and just coherent enough to tell a partial lie. Nick's place is a weird safe haven right now and he wants the company that comes with it.
He shifts closer to Nick and leans in to kiss him.
Nick tips his head just a little. "Yeah, of course," he says. Reggie is out, somewhere, wandering the city or something. Snarling that he can't spend money. Or sleeping around. Nick doesn't care right now - Nick cares about the way that Kavinsky looks like the world is ending.
He gives him a kiss back. "You want to get some sleep in?" he asks, reaching to run his hand out to move through K's hair.
"Yeah, I think I do, actually," he says with a faint, hollow laugh. He's bone tired. Kavinsky finishes the drink, because it can't hurt, and he sets it aside. As Nick strokes his hair back, Kav tips his head, leaning into the touch.
His hand slides over Nick's side and he pulls him closer for another kiss, lingering in this one. He isn't even after sex, it just feels nice to get the invitation, to know that Nick-- will let him just show up and stay.
Nick wasn't really planning on sleeping, but he'll stay close if that's what Kavinsky needs. He kisses back, and it's a good one, but it isn't filthy. He doesn't think that Kavinsky wants to fuck, either.
He nudges him just a little. "Fortunately for you I have a new mortal invention in my room. It's called a bed," he says, and he presses one hand to the base of K's spine, to urge him towards the bedroom. It's not boarded up anymore, it's a little different from the last time K was here, but it's dark, and Nick closes the door behind them. "I'm locking it in case Reggie comes home," he says. "Okay?"
"Fine with me. Last thing I need is him flipping me out of bed 'cause he's pissed."
Kavinsky's actually kind of touched that Nick is locking his sub out. Like that means something. He pushes his fingers through his hair as Nick guides him into the bedroom. He kicks off his shoes and drops onto the edge of the bed. There's part of him that's concerned about sleeping, but he's-- pretty sure it'll be fine.
Nick isn't wearing shoes, so he just gets on the bed, props pillows up, and leans back. He knows Kavinsky. For someone who is so easily moved into violence and crass, he's completely shameless about how much he enjoys cuddling.
Nick appreciates that.
He takes a breath, reaches for K, eases him down. "Here," he says. "You'll be more comfortable."
He lets Nick get settled before he moves again. Kavinsky drops down next to him, ends up half draped over Nick as he rests his head on his shoulder. It's a habit: he's either sprawled out or wrapped around whatever - whoever - is in bed with him. There doesn't seem to be any kind of in between unless he takes one of his pills, the ones that knock his ass out as soon as they dissolve.
As soon as he's comfortable, it feels impossible to stay awake. He fights it; he doesn't know how to not fight.
His hands run through Kavinsky's hair; he knows he'll fall asleep soon. He seems too tired to not give in as soon as he can. He leans back, and reaches for his phone; he figures he'll look through what people are talking about while Kavinsky is sleeping.
When Kavinsky does finally fall asleep, he dreams.
He wishes he didn't.
Nightmares aren't a new thing and this is far from the first one he's had in this weird city, but ever since Fort Harmony they've been-- a little different. It's been a while since he lost control. Maybe he's just due for it, or maybe he's just too tired to be lucid enough to stop it from happening.
When he jerks awake, he knows they aren't alone. The nightmare doesn't have much of a shape, there in the corner. It's part of the shadows and it's all darkness and eyes and claws and feathers and teeth. And it's looking at Nick. Kaivnsky has the presence of mind to shove the other boy off the bed and onto the floor when the nightmare makes its first pass with an unholy shrieking sound. Something sharp cuts his shoulder before he lands on the floor, half on top of Nick.
THe nightmare retreats to another corner, brimming and filling that part of the room with inscrutable darkness.
Nick was napping that easy, half awake sleep of someone who knows that he should wake up at any moment, but even so when he's toppled he's not sure what's happening, his entire body slammed to the floor. He's alert suddenly, that noise-
-Nick's brain says familiar, but it can't be. It can't be a familiar gone rogue. He turns and looks up to see that the corner of his room is dark, and his hands go first to teleport, but then he remembers, no, he can't, Kavinsky.
"What the heaven-" he snarls, and his hands move to a different configuration. "Do we kill it?"
He looks at Kavinsky, and he gets up. There are spells that can do damage, spells that he knows, but he doesn't know this thing's name, if it has a name at all. But still.
There are still binding spells for things that are magic, and this thing-
-he moves his hands one more time. "Nomen adiuro te per infernum, per sponte pergebam," he shouts, and the thing tries to fling itself at him, but it can't, it's bound down to the ground, Nick's magic keeping it in place. "There's a ritual blade in the nightstand, it's sharp, grab it and kill it," he says, because as long as he's binding it, he can't move.
Kavinsky goes for the knife without asking questions and launches himself over the bed. It isn't the first one he's killed; it isn't even the first one here in the city. But getting up close is always--
The night horror fights the spell and Kavinsky manages to stab it once before it breaks from the binding and launches toward Nick. Kavinsky slams into it and it makes a shrieking noise that fills the room as it turns its rage on him. He stabs over and over into the solid darkness that makes up its body. It stops making noise, eventually, and slumps, slithers, collapses into a pile at Kavinsky's feet.
He stands there, panting quietly and staring down at it. There's something black and wet on the knife and on his hands and his shirt.
He feels the spell fight it - he doesn't know the thing's name, so he can't banish it, and the binding isn't perfect - but he manages to hold it even as it breaks. Nick moves his hand and he's about to speak again (although honestly, the desire is to run) but then Kavinsky moves and the thing is dead.
"Dunno," he answers, voice hollow as he stares down at the thing. "They come when I have nightmares."
Kavinsky's never been sure if they are nightmares of if they're just attracted to them somehow. He takes a deep breath and lets it go slowly. It's easier to deal with them when they aren't his own. Killing Ronan's is easy.
"I'm fine," he says, and comes closer. "Are you?" he asks, because Kavinsky doesn't look okay. He kneels next to the dead thing, and he touches it carefully.
Kavinsky shrugs a little. He's probably not okay, but he's-- fine. "Yeah," he says after a beat. "I'm fine."
He's still staring down at the think while Nick touches it. Kavinsky knows what it will feel like: cool, soft and strange and pliant now that it's not moving.
"Watch your hands," he warns. "There's claws and teeth and sharp shit in there somewhere. Sometimes there's a beak or two."
"Or two," he says, but it isn't judging. He moves his hands, and pushes the thing over, and runs his hands over it. He looks at Kavinsky, then, and stands up. "You dreamed this," he repeats, carefully. He stands up and lifts his head up. "Listen," he says, quietly. "Come here," he says, reaching for him, careful.
"I didn't dream it," he insists. "They just show up."
He doesn't know if that's true, though. It looks like something he'd dream if left to his own devices. Something dark and hungry and twisted. His hand tightens on the knife for a second before he lets his fingers go loose. He drops it before he moves toward Nick.
"I'm fine," he repeats, though he has no idea if it's more convincing than it was a minute ago.
But Nick takes him in a careful embrace. He runs his hand through his hair. He takes a breath. "So you channel them," he says. "They come through you."
He's never thought that hard about the night terrors. They show up, he deals with them. Just like he deals with Ronan's. They're different, though. His aren't the same as his dream boy's but he keeps that to himself. Nick doesn't need to know that there's anyone else out there like him. It's one promise he's willing to make and keep.
Kavinsky sighs and leans into Nick for a second. He's never been held after something like this before and it's kind of nice.
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He doesn't want to let him go. Cut him in half like the baby before King Solomon. Force Adam to fucking choose because he would sooner have half than nothing.
He could just... dream him back. He could have his dream boy and that's that.
He could dream the contract anew, but Ronan's onto that shit now and he's pretty sure Adam is, too, though he's never brought it up and Kavinsky hasn't either.
So he's at Nick's door, leaning on it while he waits for him to answer and hoping to all get out that Reggie isn't around. He might throw that meatheat out a window if he has to look at him, if one more fucking oblivious asshole takes something from him.
Just in case Nick is hesitating for a reason, Kavinsky fires off a text: It's me.
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And he doesn't want to find out that the thing he's proudest of won't work in this place.
He looks up at the sound of the knock, and he unfolds, getting up and opening the door. He sees K, and opens it wider, so that he can come in. "I definitely wasn't thinking that would work," he says, but he smiles just a little. "Hey."
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"You trying to summon me, baby? You know I've got a phone."
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"So what brings you to visit?"
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He shifts closer to Nick and leans in to kiss him.
"Is it cool if I stay?"
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Nick tips his head just a little. "Yeah, of course," he says. Reggie is out, somewhere, wandering the city or something. Snarling that he can't spend money. Or sleeping around. Nick doesn't care right now - Nick cares about the way that Kavinsky looks like the world is ending.
He gives him a kiss back. "You want to get some sleep in?" he asks, reaching to run his hand out to move through K's hair.
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His hand slides over Nick's side and he pulls him closer for another kiss, lingering in this one. He isn't even after sex, it just feels nice to get the invitation, to know that Nick-- will let him just show up and stay.
"We don't have to sleep in the circle, do we?"
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He nudges him just a little. "Fortunately for you I have a new mortal invention in my room. It's called a bed," he says, and he presses one hand to the base of K's spine, to urge him towards the bedroom. It's not boarded up anymore, it's a little different from the last time K was here, but it's dark, and Nick closes the door behind them. "I'm locking it in case Reggie comes home," he says. "Okay?"
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Kavinsky's actually kind of touched that Nick is locking his sub out. Like that means something. He pushes his fingers through his hair as Nick guides him into the bedroom. He kicks off his shoes and drops onto the edge of the bed. There's part of him that's concerned about sleeping, but he's-- pretty sure it'll be fine.
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Nick appreciates that.
He takes a breath, reaches for K, eases him down. "Here," he says. "You'll be more comfortable."
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As soon as he's comfortable, it feels impossible to stay awake. He fights it; he doesn't know how to not fight.
"Uhm. Thanks."
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He wishes he didn't.
Nightmares aren't a new thing and this is far from the first one he's had in this weird city, but ever since Fort Harmony they've been-- a little different. It's been a while since he lost control. Maybe he's just due for it, or maybe he's just too tired to be lucid enough to stop it from happening.
When he jerks awake, he knows they aren't alone. The nightmare doesn't have much of a shape, there in the corner. It's part of the shadows and it's all darkness and eyes and claws and feathers and teeth. And it's looking at Nick. Kaivnsky has the presence of mind to shove the other boy off the bed and onto the floor when the nightmare makes its first pass with an unholy shrieking sound. Something sharp cuts his shoulder before he lands on the floor, half on top of Nick.
THe nightmare retreats to another corner, brimming and filling that part of the room with inscrutable darkness.
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-Nick's brain says familiar, but it can't be. It can't be a familiar gone rogue. He turns and looks up to see that the corner of his room is dark, and his hands go first to teleport, but then he remembers, no, he can't, Kavinsky.
"What the heaven-" he snarls, and his hands move to a different configuration. "Do we kill it?"
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He's not armed. What the fuck was he even thinking? He looks over at Nick, trying to think through the adrenaline. "Can you--?"
Nick's a warlock. He does magic shit. Maybe magic shit can kill it. Bullets sure work fine.
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There are still binding spells for things that are magic, and this thing-
-he moves his hands one more time. "Nomen adiuro te per infernum, per sponte pergebam," he shouts, and the thing tries to fling itself at him, but it can't, it's bound down to the ground, Nick's magic keeping it in place. "There's a ritual blade in the nightstand, it's sharp, grab it and kill it," he says, because as long as he's binding it, he can't move.
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The night horror fights the spell and Kavinsky manages to stab it once before it breaks from the binding and launches toward Nick. Kavinsky slams into it and it makes a shrieking noise that fills the room as it turns its rage on him. He stabs over and over into the solid darkness that makes up its body. It stops making noise, eventually, and slumps, slithers, collapses into a pile at Kavinsky's feet.
He stands there, panting quietly and staring down at it. There's something black and wet on the knife and on his hands and his shirt.
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He stares at it, and comes closer, curious.
"What the heaven is that thing?"
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Kavinsky's never been sure if they are nightmares of if they're just attracted to them somehow. He takes a deep breath and lets it go slowly. It's easier to deal with them when they aren't his own. Killing Ronan's is easy.
He looks over at Nick.
"You okay?"
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It's definitely dead.
"They come out of your nightmares."
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He's still staring down at the think while Nick touches it. Kavinsky knows what it will feel like: cool, soft and strange and pliant now that it's not moving.
"Watch your hands," he warns. "There's claws and teeth and sharp shit in there somewhere. Sometimes there's a beak or two."
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He doesn't know if that's true, though. It looks like something he'd dream if left to his own devices. Something dark and hungry and twisted. His hand tightens on the knife for a second before he lets his fingers go loose. He drops it before he moves toward Nick.
"I'm fine," he repeats, though he has no idea if it's more convincing than it was a minute ago.
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But Nick takes him in a careful embrace. He runs his hand through his hair. He takes a breath. "So you channel them," he says. "They come through you."
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He's never thought that hard about the night terrors. They show up, he deals with them. Just like he deals with Ronan's. They're different, though. His aren't the same as his dream boy's but he keeps that to himself. Nick doesn't need to know that there's anyone else out there like him. It's one promise he's willing to make and keep.
Kavinsky sighs and leans into Nick for a second. He's never been held after something like this before and it's kind of nice.
"Should get rid of the body."
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