Kavinsky rolls his eyes. "You don't even know how my shit works," he counters, though there isn't much bite in it. Nicks fingers stroke along his scalp and all he wants to do is fall the fuck asleep.
"Are you not mortal?"
It's not the first time Nick's said something like that. He thinks of Magnus and he's just lucid enough to be curious.
"You can illuminate me when you're not about to fall asleep in my lap," he says, and his fingers do not stop moving. He knows what's soothing. "I'm not mortal. We can live for centuries," he clarifies. "But I am eighteen."
"You like me in your lap," he insists. "Pretty sure it gets your dick hard."
It's weird to think that Nick's gonna live for such a long time, but also strangely comforting that they're about the same age. He thinks of Magnus. Kavinsky doesn't think he'd want to live that long.
He barely wants to live til tomorrow.
"Well, at least I'm not robbing the grave or anything."
He snorts a little. "Not yet, anyway," he tells him. "I think the other warlock from home is older, though," he says. Ambrose Spellman seems like he's probably easily in his second century, at least.
"From home?" He didn't realize Nick knew people here. It also makes him realize that maybe there's three warlocks here, and he knows two of them. He has no idea if that's an advantage or just weird luck.
He nods just a little, quiet. "Ambrose Spellman. He's from home," he says. "He's the cousin of my-"
He pauses. What is Sabrina? A girl he likes - a lot. A girl who the Dark Lord wants him to kiss. A girl who he thinks he could love, with a little push. "-a friend of mine," he finishes.
Kavinsky lifts his eyebrows. "A cousin of your friend, huh?" He grins a
little and rolls his eyes. That pause felt significant but maybe he
shouldn't give Nick too much shit considering the guy just had to deal with
one of his night horrors.
He could find Reggie there, sure. that wouldn't even be hard. But the other people? The mortals that he cares about, somehow, even though if he was made to choose he would throw them under many, many busses?
Satan help him.
"Sometimes," he admits, finally. "I've never really been on my own before. Without the church, without school, without a coven."
He feels a sharp, gaping hollowness then and all he wants to do is forget it. Kavinsky pushes his hands into his pockets, searching until he finds the bag that's always there. Pills, powder, he always has something on him. Open bag in case of emergency. He doesn't need to feel this way if he doesn't want to.
Unbidden, he thinks of the first time he realized that Ronan was like him, the sharp, desperate need to be close, to know him, to have him. The moment he realized he wasn't alone.
Kavinsky clutches the bag but doesn't open it yet, like it's a comfort just to know he has it.
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"Are you not mortal?"
It's not the first time Nick's said something like that. He thinks of Magnus and he's just lucid enough to be curious.
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It's weird to think that Nick's gonna live for such a long time, but also strangely comforting that they're about the same age. He thinks of Magnus. Kavinsky doesn't think he'd want to live that long.
He barely wants to live til tomorrow.
"Well, at least I'm not robbing the grave or anything."
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He pauses. What is Sabrina? A girl he likes - a lot. A girl who the Dark Lord wants him to kiss. A girl who he thinks he could love, with a little push. "-a friend of mine," he finishes.
She's still with Harry. Harvey. Harry. Whatever.
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Kavinsky lifts his eyebrows. "A cousin of your friend, huh?" He grins a little and rolls his eyes. That pause felt significant but maybe he shouldn't give Nick too much shit considering the guy just had to deal with one of his night horrors.
He shifts lazily and pulls Nick against him.
"Do you wanna go home?"
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Yes, because it's home. No, because-
He could find Reggie there, sure. that wouldn't even be hard. But the other people? The mortals that he cares about, somehow, even though if he was made to choose he would throw them under many, many busses?
Satan help him.
"Sometimes," he admits, finally. "I've never really been on my own before. Without the church, without school, without a coven."
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"Feel like I've always been on my own."
He feels a sharp, gaping hollowness then and all he wants to do is forget it. Kavinsky pushes his hands into his pockets, searching until he finds the bag that's always there. Pills, powder, he always has something on him. Open bag in case of emergency. He doesn't need to feel this way if he doesn't want to.
Unbidden, he thinks of the first time he realized that Ronan was like him, the sharp, desperate need to be close, to know him, to have him. The moment he realized he wasn't alone.
Kavinsky clutches the bag but doesn't open it yet, like it's a comfort just to know he has it.
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It's not just kindness. This isn't him thinking that Kavinsky is weak. It's not so simple. He gives him this, because it's what K needs.