dreamedboy | Open RP Post

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Open RP Post

⛈️ Hit me up on plurk or via PM if you have any questions/want to run an idea by me first/what-have-you.
⛈️ General squick/trigger list.
⛈️ m/m for anything shippy.
⛈️ General headcanon for Proko. If you've got different headcanon/ideas for a psl, hit me with 'em; I'm flexible.
⛈️ Proko's kink list.
⛈️ This is open to everyone who wants to thread with me!

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[It wasn't on purpose, of course.

Kavinsky had just been dreaming, next to his boyfriend. He hadn't even planned on bringing anything back with him at all. It had just been soft and self-indulgent nonsense; where Kavinsky lived into his twenties, and Proko stayed with him. Where they had a house and a fence and a fucking puppy. He was more or less clean, only really did his dreamt pills and weed- he was into magical art forgery rather than drugs. Prokopenko had just graduated college, but the diploma they displayed on the wall was a forgery; one Kavinsky dreamt for him: a joke only the two of them understood.

Sort of like their lives. Proko had proposed a few days ago with just a simple gold band, and Kavinsky had grinned, called him asshole in the same breath that he said yes. Today was Saturday and they'd spent all afternoon in bed, Proko taking him apart and putting him back together, and they were laughing as they caught their breath--

The dream starts to go wrong, shifting into a nightmare. If feels like it's pulled out from under him, and it crinkles -- like paper under heat that isn't close enough to burn. Kavinsky isn't thinking when he moves for Prokopenko, when he clutches him in his arms. He knows that he's dreaming, knows that he's a dream as their house starts to burn. But Kavinsky can't help how he holds onto him, thinks of keeping him safe as he wakes, fiercely pulling against what shreds of his dreams he holds in his fingers.

And he realizes, while the paralysis holds him prisoner for long minutes that he's pressed in between two gorgeous boys:
His highschool boyfriend, Prokopenko.
And his twenty-something fiancee, Prokopenko.

It's like one of his filthier dreams come to life, but he hadn't meant for it to happen. It had been like a reflex. He'd wanted him, wanted a future with him, but dreaming wasn't an exact thing and under the way the dragons pressed down against the dream-turned-nightmare... he brought his dream back with him. A mirror image of the other boy in his bed.

This probably looked bad.]

[Prokopenko, the original one (did he count as original when he'd been dreamt back to life once already?), sighed softly in his sleep and snuggled a little closer to Kavinsky, oblivious to the world. He hadn't yet realized anything was off or that there was someone else in bed.

The other Prokopenko, the older one, hereby referred to affectionately as Proko2, was awake. Of course, he was. One moment he'd been- and the next he was here. If he hadn't known what Kavinsky was, what he could do, he would've been a lot more concerned and upset. As it was, when he lifted his head to look over at Kavinsky and saw the other Proko, his heart sort of sank.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what'd happened.]

Oh, Josy. What did you do.

[His voice was soft enough that he didn't wake his other self yet, but it was only inevitable; it was going to happen sooner or later.]

[Kavinsky actually flushes a little bit at the words, catching his breath as he finally can move again. There's something about hearing it, hearing him. But he's careful, making sure to not pull away from his boyfriend. Because he knows this is going to be hard- but at least it's him, at least it's still Proko and not anyone else. At least as strange as this is, and as much as Kavinsky knows that he fucked up, there's no question of who he wants. Or so he's hoping, at least.

He carefully reaches out, brushing fingers against the older boy's blonde hair, a soft caress. It feels strange, since they'd been the same age in the dream. And he's trying to not think too much of the filthier possibilities here, but it's hard. Fuck, he hopes Proko understands. He thinks he will, eventually-- but what then?]

I didn't mean to, Lyusya. Everything was going wrong. And I just- needed you to be okay.

[It's a different diminutive than he uses with his Proko, but he'd used it in the dream, and so it feels- safer, almost. He's quiet too when he speaks, knowing that there's only a few moments they can steal before his boyfriend wakes. He turns, kissing the other teen sweetly on the temple, hopes the affection will maybe make this hurt a little less when he finally realizes what's happened.

He can't have two of them without telling the pack what he is, what he can do. And it couldn't be that simple, could it? He knew he could get a social security number off the black market, and it'd only take a clever mix of bribery and Kavinsky's forgeries to make sure the right documents where where they needed to be, and that they looked proper. But life was never this kind to him. He couldn't imagine he could have this without losing something.]

But I can't lose him, either.

[He can't help how miserable he sounds.]

I know.

[He wasn't mad, he was just- this had been a mistake. He'd been a mistake. He knew this wouldn't go over easy for Kavinsky, but Proko2 was selfish; he didn't want to die. He didn't want to be swept under the rug for Kavinsky and Proko's younger self to pretend this hadn't happened. He was probably jumping to the worst conclusions; Kavinsky was probably thinking something completely different. He just couldn't help it; he was pragmatic, a realist.

He tucked his face against Kavinsky's shoulder, swallowing around the lump in his throat.]

I don't want to take you from him.

[His other self deserved K more than he did; Proko2 had been a dream, a perfection of reality, all of the things that Kavinsky wanted. And god, but he wanted K desperately. He loved him, without a doubt. But his younger self was supposed to be here. He had so much life to live, so much to live for. He could give K everything he wanted, too, if K let him.

Proko finally started to stir at the sound of their voices, smothering a yawn before blinking blearily, not fully awake yet and vision not cleared from sleep.]

Who're you talking to?

[Kavinsky wants to say something reassuring to the older version of Proko, but the younger one stirs, and it pulls his attention away. He softly brushes his fingers against Lyusya's hand, trying to affirm that he wasn't going to just throw him out in the cold, even if he knew this would be messy. Kavinsky had always been greedy, but he hadn't wanted this, not on purpose. He'd only needed one of Proko- that's what the dream had been, hadn't it?

It'd be okay. He hoped. Eventually it had to be, right?

But this was his mistake, and it was Prokopenko, it was a boy that loved him. It wasn't something he could shoot and bury out by the fairgrounds; he couldn't even think it. He sighs softly, pressing another kiss to the younger Proko's temple and nuzzling into his hair.]

Ilya-- I brought someone back with me. We're safe, but... it's complicated.

[His heart races in his chest, and he can't help being nervous. But he hasn't been nervous about dreaming since he was younger, back when he was forever terrified of his father's wrath. But this isn't like that -- if anything, it's more important.]

[Proko blinked. Then blinked again. He trusted Kavinsky when he said they were safe. But he also trusted him when he said it was complicated. It was almost enough to lull him back to sleep but then he looked over, really looked, and he went very still. He stared at the other version of himself and Proko2 stared back. It was like looking into a mirror and yet-]

K, what happened?

[It wasn't an accusation, it was just- he wanted to understand. He was sure Kavinsky wouldn't dream another version of him on purpose, which meant something terrible had happened, which meant- he didn't know. What were they supposed to do with another him? The older Proko looked miserable, like he was thinking the same thing, and Proko couldn't help but feel protective of him. Not necessarily because it was him but because he was a dream and every dream was unique and special and-

Under better circumstances, he would've felt flattered that Kavinsky had been dreaming about him but it was a little hard to think about something like that right now; it felt selfish compared to the potential consequences they were facing.]

I hadn't meant to bring anything back. It was just- dreaming self-indulgent stuff, about what if I really had a future. But then everything started to go to shit, like I couldn't control it. Things started burning and I just-- I knew it was a dream, but I wasn't thinking. I just wanted to keep you safe.

[Or, well. He'd wanted to keep Lyuska safe. But in the dream they hadn't been this distinct. And maybe it had been more than that, too. Maybe it had been wanting to keep the dream, the wish of it all. His Proko, but after college. After K had suffered inelegantly through detox and rehab and struggles that he remembered without having lived. He wanted to get there, even if he didn't know how to say it outloud. He wanted to give Proko a life that was worth something, where he could go to college and be proud of it.

Kavinsky looks a little bit embarrassed as he looks at Proko, not quite knowing what to say.]

I still love you.

[It's not the first time he's said it or anything, but he's still learning that he can, that he's allowed to love someone without hurting for it. He says it almost as much to remind himself, as the other boy. That this doesn't have to end like the dream did- in flames.]

You do have a future.

[It was instinctive, reflexive. He wanted a future with Kavinsky. He wanted to graduate Aglionby and go to college and live together and grow old together and- he wanted it all. He couldn't even think of being angry or jealous right now, not when it was so clear that K loved him. The fact that he'd brought the dream back with him without thinking showed how much he cared.

Proko kissed Kavinsky softly, sweetly. They were going to make this okay, somehow. Everything was going to work out.

He should probably ask why the dream had gone sour, if Kavinsky had any idea what'd happened, but they could get to that in a minute. If he remembered.]

I love you, too. What are you going to do about-

[He didn't finish, glancing over at his other self.

Proko2 smiled sadly, brushing his fingers through Kavinsky's hair for the sake of touching him.]

Whatever you decide- I understand. And you do have a future. You can do anything you put your mind to.

[Kavinsky smiled, because it made him feel- fuck, he didn't even know. Warm, just the way that Proko insisted that he had a future like he didn't even have to think about it. Like Kavinsky wasn't the only one here that had dreams about what their future looked like, that wanted it to be the two of them together. He murmured softly into the kiss, a flutter of his eyelashes at the way that it felt.

Sweet and soft, and like love. He's always been drawn to physical contact because it makes him feel wanted. Proko's hands on his skin, his lips on his lips, most of all. He had an answer, more or less, but it was an answer that was a question too. And it's in his eyes as he looks at the other boy. Can we keep him? The question for Kavinsky was never about anything except whether he could stay. He murmurs at the feel of his fingers in his hair, but it turns into an almost-whimper and he shakes his head.]

No, screw that. I'm not gonna-- I'm not fucking deciding anything. You're here now. That makes you real as anyone else, jerk. You have a life, okay? And it's your choice what you wanna do with it.

[The insult is heavy with affection, though. But it's also insistent: Kavinsky's decision, whether he'd meant it or not, had been in bringing him back and making him real. As far as he was concerned, Proko2 got to decide everything else. He couldn't decide this new one was somehow not as real as the boy he loved, just because it was difficult and inconvenient.]

I can get a social security number, and I'll work out all the paperwork so you can do whatever you want. I'll try and see if I can find a way to recreate your transcripts... I mean, if you go back to school it should at least be for your Masters.

[And then for a moment he tenses and he curses under his breath, dragging a hand over his face. And he blinks, his eyes glassy as he looks from the younger Proko to the older one while he talks.]

I love you both. I dunno if that's something I'm allowed to feel, but I've known I needed you since that party- and I dreamt you to be everything I wanted our life to be. How can I feel anything else?

[He almost makes it a sex joke; both because it's true, and because he wants to defuse the moment, to feel less raw and like he's being turned inside out. But he doesn't. Because this matters and for once, he... he doesn't want either of them to think this is that simple.]

[Oh. The older Proko looked distinctly like he was trying not to cry. He'd existed as a real person for less than five minutes and he'd already had a very different view of how his existence was going to go than Kavinsky did. He was touched, genuinely.

Catching K's hand, he kissed his knuckles, then kissed him again, on the mouth this time.]

You'd- I know that can't be easy. [But Kavinsky would do that for him, make him a real person, even more real than he was right now. He blinked back tears.]

I'd like that. All of it.

[Being a real person and going back to school. But he also didn't want to hog the spotlight. His younger self still had a life to live, too. He wasn't exactly sure how they were going to balance everything, but he was probably thinking about it too hard right now.]

We're both the same person, right? [It was Proko who spoke this time, kissing K on the cheek.] I don't think there's anything wrong with loving us both.

[He didn't know about Proko2, but he wasn't jealous. He thought it was incredibly sweet that Kavinsky had been dreaming about their future together. It meant so much to him, even with this...situation they were in.]

You're okay, my soul.

[The last bit was in Ukrainian, but it wasn't the first time he'd said it.]

[Kavinsky smiled, easing a little bit as Lyuska kissed his knuckles, and then pressed a kiss to his mouth, and he leaned in, pressing back into the contact. Kissing him back, even if it was brief. He brushed fingers against his hair, a whisper of a touch at the back of his neck that he tried to make reassuring.

But then Illya kisses his cheek and he shudders just for the way that his words are exactly what he needed to hear. He sniffles a little when he says you're okay, when he calls him my soul-- not for the first time, but he feels almost overwhelmed, overjoyed. Knowing that he hasn't messed anything up, that his boyfriend understands that it didn't mean he loved him any less. It was literally more than he'd hoped for.]

I love you so much. Thank you. I just.. I wanna make this good for him. Because you're right- he's you, too.

[He cupped the younger Proko's face, pressing a soft kiss to his boyfriend's lips. He didn't think anyone else had ever understood him the way that Prokopenko did, not even Ronan, even if he'd thought the other dreamer did for a while. It had always been Proko. He wanted to marry him, wanted his ring on his finger, wanted a house and a puppy and every happy moment he could steal from the world. But he didn't know how to say those things, he just hoped that he felt it too. He nuzzled in against him against his shoulder, hugging him softly.]

--But uh, does that mean I can tease you guys about a threesome now?

[Because it wouldn't be K if he didn't eventually make a sex joke about being in bed with two versions of Prokopenko. He grins, impish and warm, seeming to have recovered from his worries about how this might go.]

[There were a couple of ways Proko could have been genuinely upset about this and both of those worries had already been dispelled. Kavinsky hadn't purposely created another version of him. He hadn't done anything wrong or failed in some way as a boyfriend. If you could control your dreams, why not dream whatever self-indulgent bullshit Kavinsky had been dreaming? And whatever it was, Proko probably wanted it, too. But he knew how hard talking about some things could be for K, so he didn't blame him.

He did, however, laugh and swat him on the arm playfully.]

Of course, you'd be thinking about that already.

[But wouldn't Proko, if he'd found himself with two Kavinskys?

The older Proko laughed too, scrubbing at his eyes to get rid of any traces of tears. They were happy tears at least, as opposed to how he'd felt like everything was crumbling down around him in the first five seconds of really being alive.

He pressed a kiss to Kavinsky's shoulder, then another, soft and sweet.]

I think it can be arranged if you really wanna.

You're both gorgeous. And you're still the only boy I want -- so can you blame me?

[He grins, wicked and suggestive, but also adoring as he winks at his boyfriend. And he meant it, even if he says it casually: it's been a long time since Ronan was someone that he wanted. He still crept into his dreams sometimes, but not intentionally. He was happy with Prokopenko- more than happy.

He murmured, a slow flutter of his eyelashes, as the older boy pressed a kiss to his shoulder. He almost wanted to kiss him again, to wipe his tears away and just hold him in his arms, stroke his fingers along his spine like he had a night just over a year ago with Illya. When he'd first dreamt him back to life, murmuring his name into his hair and telling him he was okay.

But thankfully this was less traumatic: Lyuska hadn't really died. Kavinsky had saved him from that, not just eased the pain of it as much as he was capable. So it was easy to slide into this moment without feeling like he was being selfish -- or not too selfish, at least.]

Are you kidding? Of course I wanna. This is one of those fantasies. Twins or an older brother and they both wanna fuck you. 'Cept this is even better because it's you. My Illya and my Lyuska- oh, is that okay?

[He turns to the older one, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his skin.]

I should've asked.

[He knew names were important: why Josy was one of the only variants of his first name he'd accept without growling.]

[Prokopenko guessed opportunities like this didn't really come up very often. As in, never. They never happened outside of dreams. It was better than them being twins because being the same person meant they were going to be thinking the same things--right? Proko didn't really know anything about the other version of himself beyond the fact he was some future fantasy of Kavinsky's.

He wanted Kavinsky all to himself and there wasn't even any competition- because there was only himself here with K. It was a good thing he didn't hate himself, or else things would've been more complicated. But as it was, he felt nothing but fierce protectiveness and fondness for his other self. They were both dreams and every dream was special.

Laughing softly, he kissed K on the cheek, dipping his head to kiss at his neck afterward.]

I love you.

[The older Proko smiled, warm and fond, and nodded.]

Yeah, it's okay.

[Honestly, Kavinsky could have called him just about anything and he would have accepted it, but Lyuska was near and dear to his heart. Everything about K was. Kavinsky tried so hard, he had so many hopes and dreams and Proko shared them, encouraged them, watched them grow. His love for the dreamer was almost overwhelming.]

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Open RP Post

just to save a dream;

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