[ lifted up, he allows the tug on his knees and spreads his legs apart. he hooks his legs around kavinsky's waist, but with the game on, he smirks at kavinsky and draws the shadows around them. in the next instant, they're dropping into the nearest bed with nico on top of kavinsky. rolling their hips together, he grins and brings their foreheads together much like the other boy had moments ago. ]
[what is this!! a powerplay. with kavinsky's senses, he had seen it coming, sort of, he could tell that nico was trying something, feel the tension in his skin and hear something in the shift of air. but when the shadows grabbed him, he'd been surprised, and gravity dumping him on his ass is
different.
and to be honest, in kavinsky's secret heart of hearts, it's actually working pretty fucking well for him. libido-wise. he's never liked his own-- reaction to being pushed down, pulled tight, dominated. he's never liked how much he likes it. but that doesn't change the fact that he does, his pupils blowing up huge in his eyes as he stares up at the other boy, the sudden sproing of lust in his trousers warring with the instinct to fight back. take it back.]
[ kavinsky's reaction doesn't go unnoticed, the tent he's pitched obvious even through heavy denim. but that's what nico's intending, and he's is in a similar state. he drags his hands down kavinsky's chest and leans in, dark eyes even more impossibly dark as he smirks.
having power over kavinsky this way is a thrill, and in nico's opinion, makes up for every moment the other boy acts inane or annoying. he wants more of it, feeling heat sear through his veins as he grinds down on kavinsky. ]
that makes kavinsky's dick jump again. pretty fucking noticeable. like a seal fed a horse mackerel at sea world in reward for popping through a hoop. he doesn't blush, because— well, because he's kavinsky, but his pulse quickens, and maybe— maybe there's a flicker of ancient manxious ass-panic in the way his eyes flicker down to nico's mouth, before returning to his eyes. nico has pretty eyes and pretty everything. like ronan does; like every lad kavinsky's ever gone for. he's a shallow and petty little creature, in some ways worse than others.
his teeth show. slow, mirthful, not displeased but— challenging. cuz you gotta. if you're a real man, okay. ask, um. anyone. ask anyone at all.
assxiety. keeping it real since whenever people figured out boys are supposed to be on top and began to perpetuate that nonsense. he's impossibly agile now— so he bends one spindly leg up, impossibly high, coincidentally spreading his thighs, and pokes the death godling's cheek with his foot.]
[ grabbing the foot that pokes at his cheek, he forcibly directs it to the bed again. far enough away from kavinsky's other leg so he can slot himself between those thighs. he slides in easily, dragging his hand up kavinsky's now released leg, and then reaches for kavinsky's wrists as he gives a slow roll of his hips. from where he's positioned, the motion provides a nice, gradual grind against clothed balls, making him hiss a little in suppressed pleasure.
he's hoping kavinsky won't fight him too much, even if such a tussle would add to the thrill. what he wants is to give kavinsky a good, thorough fucking. it would make up for all the times kavinsky has teased him or goaded him. and he knows he can do it too, is even willing to tie kavinsky down if he has to, but he's hoping it won't come to that. because like this, kavinsky is good on the eyes. all splayed out, limbs akilter and lips looking ripe for kissing. lust blows his own dark pupils out, though it's hard to tell given how dark his eyes normally are. ]
Says me. Don't make me tie you down, because I will.
[kavinsky presses his wrist up a little bit, testing the grip that nico has on him, but without real intent. he doesn't want to break away. nico's hopes and dreams are definitely about to come true; the fact is, kavinsky is as butthungry as every joke that vex had ever made about him. his desire for man points and dominance and fragile homophobia has been
cracking. a little. over the past few years.]
I can't make you do anything, dipshit, [kavinsky says. despite the insult tacked on at the end, his voice is unmistakably fond, and his dick is unmistakably interested, shoving up a lump under his jeans. his narrow thighs tip up to clutch at the span of nico's hips, his navel sucking in, taut from the strain not to dry hump the other boy with anything too florid.] Didn't you know? You got real cosmic power, and a hot blond husband besides.
[somehow
even at his most flirty careless bravado, kavinsky manages to sound like a bitter little bitch. it's fine.]
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mild powerprose, lmk if it's not okay.
Are you sure it's not? Maybe we should check.
totally ok :3
different.
and to be honest, in kavinsky's secret heart of hearts, it's actually working pretty fucking well for him. libido-wise. he's never liked his own-- reaction to being pushed down, pulled tight, dominated. he's never liked how much he likes it. but that doesn't change the fact that he does, his pupils blowing up huge in his eyes as he stares up at the other boy, the sudden sproing of lust in his trousers warring with the instinct to fight back. take it back.]
Gonna blow me, sweetheart? [he asks. it's a nice-- middle ground.]
no subject
having power over kavinsky this way is a thrill, and in nico's opinion, makes up for every moment the other boy acts inane or annoying. he wants more of it, feeling heat sear through his veins as he grinds down on kavinsky. ]
I might. But first, I'm going to fuck you.
nsfwish
that makes kavinsky's dick jump again. pretty fucking noticeable. like a seal fed a horse mackerel at sea world in reward for popping through a hoop. he doesn't blush, because— well, because he's kavinsky, but his pulse quickens, and maybe— maybe there's a flicker of ancient manxious ass-panic in the way his eyes flicker down to nico's mouth, before returning to his eyes. nico has pretty eyes and pretty everything. like ronan does; like every lad kavinsky's ever gone for. he's a shallow and petty little creature, in some ways worse than others.
his teeth show. slow, mirthful, not displeased but— challenging. cuz you gotta. if you're a real man, okay. ask, um. anyone. ask anyone at all.
assxiety. keeping it real since whenever people figured out boys are supposed to be on top and began to perpetuate that nonsense. he's impossibly agile now— so he bends one spindly leg up, impossibly high, coincidentally spreading his thighs, and pokes the death godling's cheek with his foot.]
Says who?
def nsfw; mild powerprose if okay
he's hoping kavinsky won't fight him too much, even if such a tussle would add to the thrill. what he wants is to give kavinsky a good, thorough fucking. it would make up for all the times kavinsky has teased him or goaded him. and he knows he can do it too, is even willing to tie kavinsky down if he has to, but he's hoping it won't come to that. because like this, kavinsky is good on the eyes. all splayed out, limbs akilter and lips looking ripe for kissing. lust blows his own dark pupils out, though it's hard to tell given how dark his eyes normally are. ]
Says me. Don't make me tie you down, because I will.
totally ok :333 833333 nico my prince
cracking. a little. over the past few years.]
I can't make you do anything, dipshit, [kavinsky says. despite the insult tacked on at the end, his voice is unmistakably fond, and his dick is unmistakably interested, shoving up a lump under his jeans. his narrow thighs tip up to clutch at the span of nico's hips, his navel sucking in, taut from the strain not to dry hump the other boy with anything too florid.] Didn't you know? You got real cosmic power, and a hot blond husband besides.
[somehow
even at his most flirty careless bravado, kavinsky manages to sound like a bitter little bitch. it's fine.]