Kavinsky heads out not long after he sends the message, ideas already rolling over in his head. He's pissed that someone was ballsy enough to steal from Nick; he's extra pissed that the things stolen were gifts from him. Shithead doesn't know what they have, but that's fine. He worked in some security measures, just in case. He'll tell Nick when he sees him.
But that's not the point.
He slides out of the Evo (this is, possibly, the fifth or sixth one he's had since he dreamt the first one) and lets the door slam to announce his presence.
Nick comes out of the church, finds his way to K. He has his hands in his pockets, and he's dressed in black, slim to the tips of his toed. He nods his head a bit. "Come on," he says.
The church came with a basement; the way in is through the rectory. "Down the stairs," he says, and there's a strange dissonance; the church basement doesn't look like a basement. It looks, vaguely, like the library in Nick's office, or like the library in Nick's office used to look like. "Moving things in here has been a pain in the ass."
Kavinsky has rarely had to experience the cognitive dissonance that comes with watching someone else dream: the brain trying to reconcile a reality in which nothing had been there a moment ago but now a new thing is most certainly present. The weird dizziness of a memory rewriting itself to believe that the thing had always been there.
That isn't quite the feeling he gets walking into the church basement, but he does have this rush of deja vu, of seeing Nick's library in a place that should not be Nick's library.
"Shit, remind me to hire you next time I need to move."
He takes stock of the room, a forger's eye for detail.
"Whoever has your books won't be able to use them," he says - he'd meant to tell Nick earlier but getting here seemed more imperative. It doesn't solve the problem of their loss, but maybe it takes some potential concern off the table.
"It would be smart," he says. He looks over at Kavinsky, and looks around and then sits in one of the thick, comfortable chairs. He looks like it's his throne. "I want your opinion. Your magic doesn't have any...celestialness to it. It means it can't be circumvented by an overzealous person with divine help. It just works."
If there was anything for Nick to be jealous of, that would be it.
If Nick had a throne room it would be a library. Kavinsky remains on his feet.
“Yeah,” he answers. “It’s just me. Nothing gave it to me.”
His mother, but that isn’t the same. He didn’t sign any book or pledge loyalty to some force or another. His power, whatever it is, is only holy or unholy in the eyes of the beholder. Kavinsky slips his cigarette case out of a pocket, but doesn’t open it.
“Living things’ll go to sleep if I die,” he says at last. “Everything else should be okay.”
He says it as he snaps his fingers, and a little bit of flame sparks for K to light a cigarette. He offers his fingers - a nifty little trick, that. "It doesn't have to be living. A charm, then. Something that I can hang that will turn away anyone who tries to teleport in here," he says. There's a pause as he thinks. "There's an old charm that Odin learned, that would turn witches away, make them lose their way," he says. "Something like that."
Kavinsky pops the case open and takes out a cigarette. The case goes back into his pocket as he closes the distance between them.
"Yeah, he had one about secrets, too, right? A secret only you know is the most powerful secret there is," he says absently as he leans close to the flickering flame. Kavinsky takes a drag as he lights the cigarette, then stands straight. What? He reads shit sometimes. Once upon a time, little Joey heard a lot of stories.
He looks around the library.
"So you want something that'll get people all fucked up and turned around. Just teleporting? Or you want it to work on the door, too?"
He reaches for K, once the cigarette is lit, and tugs him onto his lap. He had a talk with Reggie about this. Not about his relationship with Kavinsky, exactly - but yes, that - but the truth is that while Nick may not love him, Nick likes him a whole lot, and he doesn't really want to give him up.
He doesn't have to rub Reggie's nose in it, but this? This kind of moment, it's something that Nick wants.
His body leans forward a little. "Can you do something that would effect both? But something that if I could write a spell for people who can come in. Invite only."
It's easy to slide into Nick's lap. He even keeps the ash from falling on Nick's black clothes. He likes Nick - loves him, probably - but he won't ever say those words again. They have what they have and it's good. He likes it. There will always be a raw and hungry part of him that wants more, but Kavinsky's starting to think that shit just isn't for him.
But this is good. Right now, right here, Nick is his. Or he is Nick's. Whichever.
Kavinsky shifts closer as Nick leans in. He considers the request, looking at some undetermined spot as he thinks. As he tries to think of how to make that happen. If it could be a physical thing...
"I think yes is the short answer," he says after a moment. He looks back toward the door they came through. "The door might just be like--a secret." Use your words, dreamer. "People can get in because they know how to get in. Don't need a spell, jut the know-how. And you can keep that shit to yourself."
He takes the cigarette and takes a long drag. Nick isn't unfamiliar with a lot of drugs, but he doesn't smoke all that often. Still, he closes his eyes for a moment and lets the nicotine wash over him, and then he opens them and looks back up. "The most powerful secret is the one only you know," he says, his eyes sparkling.
Oh, fuck, he's going to get horny just from thinking about magic. He is that person.
"Don't think we're getting past the point of invoices?" Kavinsky smirks when he realizes Nick's getting fucking excited. What a nerd. He takes his cigarette back and holds Nick's gaze as he takes his next drag.
But there's something about it that excites Kavinsky, too. He's usually a forger, his unique things tend to be small and consumable. This is different.
"I'll think of something. The thing you're asking for is big and it's not gonna be simple."
A deterrent, a defense, and something that only responds to Nick's will (in the form of permission or a spell or a word or whatever); none of it is going to be straightforward.
"Might have to do it here. Some of it, anyway."
His dreaming has been fucked lately, but maybe with Nick around it'll be fine. He considers for a second.
"I don't want to assume that you do it just because you like me fucking you," he whispers back. In his world, every spell is a give and take, every show of power costly. No one does anything for free, not for any real reason. The academy is that kind of cutthroat.
He should have known better.
But still. He takes another drag, then hands the cigarette back. "I have time."
"I like you, Nick. Sometimes that's the only reason I need."
Whatever give and take exists with Kavinsky's power is on him. It costs him nothing but sleep. His fingers drift along Nick's jaw and brush his hand as he takes the cigarette back.
"I can do the first thing right now," he offers. "Something that'll keep people from teleporting in and out and keep them from finding it. You wanna keep watch or come with?"
He looks K over, and catches him for a kiss, first. Because he wants to. Because he can. "I'll stay out here," he says. "Do you want to sleep in the bed?" he asks, running his fingers over Kavinsky's cheekbone. The bedroom is upstairs, but it's comfortable there.
Kavinsky leans into the kiss and it takes Nick pulling back (or pushing him) to really end it.
"No. Easier if I just do it here, where it's gonna be."
He tips his head to kiss Nick again, lingering over the taste of him.
"Shit's been weird, Scratch. You know what to do if anything we don't want comes back with me. Or if my heart stops too long or some inconvenient shit like that."
There's always a chance. Dreaming isn't safe and maybe that's the cost. Despite all his practice and all his skill, there are still things that Kavinsky can't always control. He leaves the cigarette with Nick as he slides out of his lap. He slips his cigarette case out and shakes it a few times before he opens it. Now there's bags of pills in there and he takes out an electric blue one.
"I don't know how it's gonna feel when it comes out," he warns. "And I'm gonna be out for a little while." More than his quick trips. This takes planning and shaping. What Nick has asked for takes time.
He catches K's hand before he doses himself, and he looks him in the eye. "Hey," he says, and his smile is slow, lingering. "Let me put you to sleep. With my magic. See if it helps," he adds, because those pills -
- it's not that Nick doesn't trust them. Kavinsky's magic has always worked before, perfectly, without a hitch. It's just that Nick knows that putting him to sleep isn't all they do. They have different effects. "And I'll be here when you wake up."
K goes still and a small smile ticks his mouth. He leans close to kiss Nick. "Sure. Knock me out, babe."
He lets go so he can lay on the floor. It's as good a place as any, he doesn't know what this'll look like when he brings this thing back. And he doesn't want to fall off anything once Nick puts him under.
He's already thinking of shape and feel. But he doesn't need to dive into the dream knowing exactly what he wants. Like natural sleep, he won't be on a timer here.
"Don't worry about waking me up unless you gotta leave or something. I'll wake up when it's done."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
>> action
Kavinsky heads out not long after he sends the message, ideas already rolling over in his head. He's pissed that someone was ballsy enough to steal from Nick; he's extra pissed that the things stolen were gifts from him. Shithead doesn't know what they have, but that's fine. He worked in some security measures, just in case. He'll tell Nick when he sees him.
But that's not the point.
He slides out of the Evo (this is, possibly, the fifth or sixth one he's had since he dreamt the first one) and lets the door slam to announce his presence.
im here
no subject
The church came with a basement; the way in is through the rectory. "Down the stairs," he says, and there's a strange dissonance; the church basement doesn't look like a basement. It looks, vaguely, like the library in Nick's office, or like the library in Nick's office used to look like. "Moving things in here has been a pain in the ass."
no subject
That isn't quite the feeling he gets walking into the church basement, but he does have this rush of deja vu, of seeing Nick's library in a place that should not be Nick's library.
"Shit, remind me to hire you next time I need to move."
He takes stock of the room, a forger's eye for detail.
"Whoever has your books won't be able to use them," he says - he'd meant to tell Nick earlier but getting here seemed more imperative. It doesn't solve the problem of their loss, but maybe it takes some potential concern off the table.
no subject
If there was anything for Nick to be jealous of, that would be it.
no subject
“Yeah,” he answers. “It’s just me. Nothing gave it to me.”
His mother, but that isn’t the same. He didn’t sign any book or pledge loyalty to some force or another. His power, whatever it is, is only holy or unholy in the eyes of the beholder. Kavinsky slips his cigarette case out of a pocket, but doesn’t open it.
“Living things’ll go to sleep if I die,” he says at last. “Everything else should be okay.”
no subject
He says it as he snaps his fingers, and a little bit of flame sparks for K to light a cigarette. He offers his fingers - a nifty little trick, that. "It doesn't have to be living. A charm, then. Something that I can hang that will turn away anyone who tries to teleport in here," he says. There's a pause as he thinks. "There's an old charm that Odin learned, that would turn witches away, make them lose their way," he says. "Something like that."
no subject
"Yeah, he had one about secrets, too, right? A secret only you know is the most powerful secret there is," he says absently as he leans close to the flickering flame. Kavinsky takes a drag as he lights the cigarette, then stands straight. What? He reads shit sometimes. Once upon a time, little Joey heard a lot of stories.
He looks around the library.
"So you want something that'll get people all fucked up and turned around. Just teleporting? Or you want it to work on the door, too?"
no subject
He doesn't have to rub Reggie's nose in it, but this? This kind of moment, it's something that Nick wants.
His body leans forward a little. "Can you do something that would effect both? But something that if I could write a spell for people who can come in. Invite only."
no subject
But this is good. Right now, right here, Nick is his. Or he is Nick's. Whichever.
Kavinsky shifts closer as Nick leans in. He considers the request, looking at some undetermined spot as he thinks. As he tries to think of how to make that happen. If it could be a physical thing...
"I think yes is the short answer," he says after a moment. He looks back toward the door they came through. "The door might just be like--a secret." Use your words, dreamer. "People can get in because they know how to get in. Don't need a spell, jut the know-how. And you can keep that shit to yourself."
Or give it to whoever he wants.
no subject
Oh, fuck, he's going to get horny just from thinking about magic. He is that person.
"What do you want for that?"
no subject
But there's something about it that excites Kavinsky, too. He's usually a forger, his unique things tend to be small and consumable. This is different.
"I'll think of something. The thing you're asking for is big and it's not gonna be simple."
A deterrent, a defense, and something that only responds to Nick's will (in the form of permission or a spell or a word or whatever); none of it is going to be straightforward.
"Might have to do it here. Some of it, anyway."
His dreaming has been fucked lately, but maybe with Nick around it'll be fine. He considers for a second.
"And we have to be able to test it."
no subject
He should have known better.
But still. He takes another drag, then hands the cigarette back. "I have time."
no subject
Whatever give and take exists with Kavinsky's power is on him. It costs him nothing but sleep. His fingers drift along Nick's jaw and brush his hand as he takes the cigarette back.
"I can do the first thing right now," he offers. "Something that'll keep people from teleporting in and out and keep them from finding it. You wanna keep watch or come with?"
no subject
no subject
"No. Easier if I just do it here, where it's gonna be."
He tips his head to kiss Nick again, lingering over the taste of him.
"Shit's been weird, Scratch. You know what to do if anything we don't want comes back with me. Or if my heart stops too long or some inconvenient shit like that."
There's always a chance. Dreaming isn't safe and maybe that's the cost. Despite all his practice and all his skill, there are still things that Kavinsky can't always control. He leaves the cigarette with Nick as he slides out of his lap. He slips his cigarette case out and shakes it a few times before he opens it. Now there's bags of pills in there and he takes out an electric blue one.
"I don't know how it's gonna feel when it comes out," he warns. "And I'm gonna be out for a little while." More than his quick trips. This takes planning and shaping. What Nick has asked for takes time.
no subject
- it's not that Nick doesn't trust them. Kavinsky's magic has always worked before, perfectly, without a hitch. It's just that Nick knows that putting him to sleep isn't all they do. They have different effects. "And I'll be here when you wake up."
no subject
He lets go so he can lay on the floor. It's as good a place as any, he doesn't know what this'll look like when he brings this thing back. And he doesn't want to fall off anything once Nick puts him under.
He's already thinking of shape and feel. But he doesn't need to dive into the dream knowing exactly what he wants. Like natural sleep, he won't be on a timer here.
"Don't worry about waking me up unless you gotta leave or something. I'll wake up when it's done."