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[Billy reaches over and catches him by the elbow. There's still lightning in his hand, but it's not the biting kind, not yet, and it dances over Kavinsky's skin like it's a pet that just wants to get to know him. It plays around his wrists, twirling there for a moment before dissipating into the air.

And then Billy lets go.]

At least we're united on that front.

[He says it very dryly, in a way that suggests he's not into the vulgarity of the comment even though he's into the honesty of it.

He takes a breath and out of the sky, out of no cloud and no storm, there's a jolt of bright blue lightning, a perfect branch of it flashing and hitting the sand with tremendous energy. Sand flies up into the air, and then the sound hits them. The booming of it seems to fling itself to the sea.

The smell of ozone and the peculiar smell of sand turning to glass permeates the space between them.]

[the light plays over his arm, and kavinsky's testicles curl up and retreat into his body. it's against his nature to scream or cry except under the most impossibly pressing of all situations, and this isn't. the fear is like the vast majority of his emotions-- it rolls over him like a wave over sand, scattering him a little, but leaving him largely unchanged to the casual observer.

and then he exhales through his teeth. turns it into a smile, vulpine and fangy. he comes out of the stilted memory he'd been in, blinking out at the beach. nothing reassures him like deafening explosions, the stink of incineration. he steps up beside billy, looking out over the magical boy's hands, watching the way that the electricity splits and leaps and the sands of the actual beach begin to change. even to the eye of a casual observer.

it's getting shiny. he's into.]

Hey, when you and Teddy used to fuck, who fucked who?

[Another beam of lightning crashes, and then another, in quick succession. It's deafening but not the point where Billy doesn't hear the question.

If it had been a straight guy asking, Billy would have definitely answered it differently. But Kavinsky has made his sexual orientation relatively clear - or at least hinted enough that Billy understands - so it doesn't make him sigh and get out the stop being so heteronormative argument that he pulls out when people ask him anything that even approaches so who's the guy.

He just turns and raises his eyebrows.]

If you want me to fuck you, you need to buy me flowers and dinner first.

[Another blast of lightning hits the ground near them. The glass is bright and beautiful and delicate.]

So you're saying, if I want to do the fucking, [kavinsky's voice is wry, laughter underneath. it's not entirely nervous laughter anymore, either. his heartbeat is still kicking awkwardly in his chest. still alive, still alive, a singsong that mingles relief with the beginning of disappointment.

he sounds distracted. it's a joke of a question, or close enough; he hasn't exactly been in the mood, of late.] You ever like older guys? [his head moves suddenly, tracking the leap of light, the crackle of electricity. his eyes sharpen. he thinks about the crackle down the skin of his arm again. he has to talk louder the next time he speaks-- half-deafened, already,]

Guess I don't even know how old the fuck you are.

[He looks at Kavinsky for a minute, and the lightning stops for that time. It's in Billy's eyes and in his hair. He smells like ozone. He looks like a wild thing, which is weird, because Billy Kaplan usually just looks like a hipster.]

I'm a fan of both. Depends on the mood.

[The one he's in now definitely says aggressor. But Billy's also not really in the mood for sex. He's in the mood to blow shit up.]

I'm twenty.

[And then there's another fall of lightning behind Kavinsky, and a circle of it surrounding them.]

[kavinsky accepts this information into his brain for future consideration. he hasn't slept in twenty-four hours, and a handful of hours before that. most of said brain is offline right now. there's just enough of it left for basic memory commitments, visceral lizard functions, and the usual, basic subroutines of vulgarity, self-interest, you know how it goes.

there's a subroutine for this crazy dark-haired boy with anger issues looks beautiful right now, so there's that too, kavinsky's stare sitting empty above a fixed piranha smile.]

It's just glass, sweetheart.

Just glass.

[He turns and lightning hovers, fixed, paused. It crackles above the sand, blue and bright. It's impossible, but Billy is made of impossible stuff.

He changes it.

He wills the reality of it to change. The lightning turns into stars, only the stars look like lightning, and then he lets it go. It crashes into the sand with a red and gold spark of energy, and then Billy walks over to it.

The glass is a strange molten thing, so he kicks some sand over it and waits for a minute, and when it's cool enough to touch (but still warm) he picks it up. It looks like the night sky in a blobby, strange shape, swirls of galaxy and stars trapped in an impossible fragment of glass. There's sand wedged in there, too, grains of it that didn't pulverize and melt.

He turns and offers it to Kavinsky.]

I'm so tired of people telling me that all my magic is stupid and doesn't work.

[kavinsky takes the glass, looks at it. the rounded shape is heavy in his hand. pleasantly so. you could cave a dude's head in with this shit, he's pretty sure. there might be some misunderstanding here, of billy thinking that kavinsky was one of those people, but kavinsky is either not paying attention or doesn't care, preoccupied by the thought of caving sylar's skull in.]

Maybe you should use your magic to turn those fuckers into glass.

[he throws up his gift in the air, and catches it again, a solid thwap of the substance on the thin skin and bones of his hand.] You can unmake people. You could unmake whoever fucking said that.

[He doesn't think that Kavinsky is of that opinion; he's seen Kavinsky light up when magic happens around him. He watches Kavinsky with the blob of glass, and snorts.]

Maybe I should scare the shit out of Dorian Gray. I'm from a long line of supervillains. Might as well use some of that to my advantage.

[Lightning roils around them still, and Billy keeps striking sand, bang, bang, bang.]

Uncreating is harder than creating. Magic wants to exist.

Grey? No shit? [kavinsky is surprised at that. he tosses his glass blob up again, catches it with both hands this time. he likes that it's still warm. destruction happened here, it says. something was unmade and remade into something new, with a discharge of energy beyond anything an ordinary man could survive.

he thought grey had liked magic, too.] Guy could probably use a scare. Probably just some dick comparison thing. I know he likes tricks. [he passes the glass from hand to hand, and then he starts across the sand, his shoes printing neat marks in the grains. he stoops down to fiddle at another piece of glass, just within the flicker of energy.] You shot him with lightning yet? He even know you can do that?

I hit him twice with lightning. Once I killed him with a toilet seat.

[That was an accident. He considers this.]

What would you do?

[This is a bad road. Like a very bad road. But it's also the road that Billy has most accessible to him at the moment. It's the easiest one to look down. Kate and Teddy are gone. Nathaniel is gone. Gansey is gone. Billy has Kitty, and Kitty is a lot, but it isn't enough. And then there's the matter of Loki.

Billy isn't sure he'll ever really be able to just let what happened with Loki go.]

[kavinsky arches one dark eyebrow, glancing at the other magical boy just briefly. he digs up his second blob of glass, which is warm too. hot, even. but he hoists it up in his hand and then compares it to the one he already has.]

Well shit. [is the toilet seat thing real? kavinsky has no idea if it's real. it's interesting, if it's real.] Obviously, the old cunt doesn't think your power is actually fucking useless. He's just getting you where it hurts. [kavinsky wipes his nose with his wrist, and then he walks over to start pushing other pieces of glass together with his feet. they're going to make a creepy altar out here. celebrate billy kaplan's transition into evil.] Guess you got a couple of options.

Hatefuck him and-or his husband, [kavinsky squints at the thought. he's not sure billy has the chops for that, but billy is currently melting a beach with controlled lightning, so.] Or find out where he hurts. Hit that instead. Which could be hatefucking him and-or his husband, but there's probably some other shit.

No, he doesn't think my power is useless. He thinks I'm useless. It's different.

[Billy considers this. He does not, as Kavinsky suspects, have the chops to hate fuck anyone. The lightning rolls at Kavinsky's feet, jumping from place to place. It never really gets too close.]

I don't think sex would work. Gray may be an asshole but Toby, it's-

[He sighs.]

It's not really that simple with Toby. They'd forgive each other and that would be that. Welcome to boring relationshipland, K.

[He calls him K because he calls Teddy T and he calls Kate B, when it suits him. He opens his hand.]

It means you don't fall into hatesex traps. Besides, I almost threw up the one time I kissed him, so I'd rather not relive that nightmare.

[what is this bizarre nation called boring relationshipland. is it of this earth? kavinsky rolls his eyes about it, familiar enough with the concept anyway. it doesn't exactly surprise him. he had been, after all, a guest to dorian and toby's wedding, providing suitable gifts.

he doesn't like the k, but he doesn't comment on it. surface irritation. what's a mosquito bite when you're carrying a bullet in your guts.]

So when you say he thinks you're useless, you don't mean you wanna patch up and get in good. Right? [he shrugs his skinny shoulders, and clinks another brick of glass down. stoops to grasp another, pull it free and moving it over on the sand. he walks just within the edge of the flicker of lightning.] You mean you wanna destroy him. Except you like that Toby cunt, so not exactly.

I want him to shut the hell up, is what I want.

[The lightning snaps this time, coming up to bite at Kavinsky, but it doesn't touch him.]

God, I'm so sick of his stupid smug face.

And I'm so pissed he saw-

[He saw a memory of Teddy and Billy together the other day, he made fun of him for it, and after everything - after hallucinating Teddy and after the embarrassing conversation with Gansey and after the disaster that was the spell in June, this was the last thing that he wanted. So you. Thank you, Kavinsky for the memorysharing (only Billy doesn't know it was Kavinsky that caused it.)

Billy's teeth snap shut.]

Edited 2016-11-01 01:40 (UTC)

[kavinsky pushes other chunks of glass around. he makes a circle in the sand, a surprisingly even one-- but he always had a pretty decent sense of visuospatial reasoning. he'd be a(n even) worse driver without it. it's a good size circle, too. large enough for a couple of late teen, early-twenty-something-year-old magic wielders to stand in, if they cared to stand in dubious circles amid a field of energy.

for whatever reason a magic wielder were to stand in a dubious circle in a field of energy.]

Pretty sure there's a spell for that, [kavinsky says, very nonchalantly. mind you, he'd still be nonchalant even if he knew what his spell had done.] But your story keeps changing, baby. One sec your magic's useless. Then you're useless. Then it's him talking, or it's his fucking face. [kavinsky pauses for an instant when the lightning gets close to him, his eyes flitting across the sand.] You sure you don't just wanna fuck him-fuck him?

There's a spell for everything. Do you want to know a secret?

[When he circle is complete, it lights up a bit. Billy's being coy.]

I don't really use spells.

[He scowls a little at the next part though. Because Kavinsky's right. But then this is a whine and blow shit up session, so Billy feels entitled to change his story. That said-]

I'd fuck a lamppost, in public, wearing a MonMon Walk costume before I even considered sex with Dorian Gray.

[That part is really disgusting.]

I hate him, I don't want to hate fuck him.

[kavinsky makes a bored sound, even as he looks anything but bored, looking down at the glowing circle around him. it makes him feel like he's about to drop out of the bottom of this world, which is frightening in theory and exhilarating in practice.

who knows what it'd be, in reality, if the ground opened under his feet.

but anyway, back to billy.]

So you don't wanna fuck him. Don't have the stones to kill him. Basically no violations of the Geneva convention, [kavinsky flaps a hand around, as if he can't believe it, but,] like, whatsoever. [preposterous!!] So you're just lancing the hemorrhoid, talking to me. [but he smiles, and jerks his head at billy. come on loser!! get in the glowing circle.]

I don't think you lance a hemorrhoid.

I don't know, is pulling out someone's soul and hanging it like dirty laundry from a really tall building against the Geneva convention?

[He steps into the circle, and then the ground doesn't drop out from under them, it lifts up. The sand passes through the disc of spinning blue.]

How high do you want to go?

You're not afraid of heights, are you?

[kavinsky looks at the light coming from below, the granules flying through the air. a smile spreads across his face.] I dunno. You gotta get 'em cut sometimes. [how would you know?] Left it wide open for you. Go ahead.

I'll get as high as high can go.

[kavinsky may be afraid of a great many things, but heights have never been one of them. he draws closer to billy anyway, an instinct based on fear but many times removed in practice. peering over the mage's shoulder, to see if the beach really is going to fall away.] Can you really do that shit? Pull out somebody's fucking soul?

You really need a better doctor. Of a more careful boyfriend.

[And up they go, shooting fast into the sky. The beach falls away, and it glimmers - bright and strange, the sea tossing and turning. Billy sometimes feels like he could shoot right to the moon, but he doesn't - he slows them down when they're pretty high up, the air around them cool, the view going forever. Billy's lightning storm is still rolling underneath them for a little while, but soon that dies too.

He hasn't done this in a while - the blue disc method of flying another person - but he used to do it so often that dropping someone is out of the question.

As to Kavinsky's question, he shrugs.]

Sure. Souls aren't like teeth, I mean, they don't come out easy. But they're just energy, I've held them before.

[they're so high up. kavinsky made a car that could fly, but he'd had no interest in actually driving it. like memory lane, it had been an experiment with sentience.

this is novel actually. he goes to the edge. closer then he probably should, whether or not he's invincible. a riot of nerves in his guts, not the same as fear.] And what does that do to a motherfucker? [he asks, feeling the wind in his hair, the bite at his skin. he thinks if he were shot out into space, he'd be dying forever and never die. it feels like what he's stuck with now, but even he can acknowledge, it'd be worse.]

It hurt? Kill you?

Well.

[He considers it. This is a sort of a philosophical question.]

I don't think it would kill someone. It might hurt, but I can't say for sure. I mean, if I destroyed a soul, sure. But, well.

I don't think it's like your heart or your liver.

[He makes a face, but it's that he's thinking. He hasn't considered this. He knows that Gray has one. He knows what it looks like, newly minted and shiny. But he doesn't know what would happen if it were outside a body.]

A person can live without a soul. I don't think it improves their moral character, but it can happen.

[kavinsky edges forward until his toes are hanging over just an inch. the air plays with his hair, his shirt, his nerves. maybe it's the illusion of danger that reassures him more than anything, reminding him of himself, even though billy's here, and billy would probably save him from falling, even if he knew it wouldn't kill him.

some people are like that.]

So asshole's asshole would get bigger and that's it, [kavinsky observes. he takes his eyes off the earth below, turns his head back to look at billy, teeth flashing white.] Babe. You are no good at hurting people on purpose. Maybe a skill needs cultivating.

I'm really terrible at it.

Once I almost wished someone would die.

[But he didn't.]

And another time I made an entire parade of neo-Nazi's disappear.

[He does not know where they went.

They zoom a little, further out towards the ocean. They're actually moving pretty fast, but it's like a plane - it's hard to really perceive just how fast Billy's disc is moving them]

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