Open RP Post

[dreamedboy]

⛈️ 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!

Comments

always dreamers; tattoos and other shenanigans;

[threesecrets]

[It's the night of one of Kavinsky's substance parties, so when Ronan goes to get his tattoo it's Proko that he asks to come with him. He's talked about it a little, about wanting it on his skin, but he hasn't shown anyone the sketches yet that he's been working on with the tattoo artist that K had found for him. Someone he could trust to not fuck it up, and who wouldn't care that he wasn't eighteen.

He'd have taken them both, but Ronan knows that it's easier for them to show up late than it would be for Kavinsky- the boy everyone's there for. Skov, Swan and Jiang should be enough to keep K out of too much trouble. For a while, anyway.

So they're at the tattoo shop when he finally shows Prokopenko what it is that he's getting inked on his back; hooks and claws, feathers and flowers. Up his back and against his neck and hooking almost into his collarbone. Not something that will stay contained, hidden under Aglionby shirts- everyone will know it's there. He's got his shirt off, and the guy is prepping his tools and the bench for him, a low buzz in the air. Ronan smiles soft and a little unsure at Proko, dragging a hand against his stubbled scalp.

A week ago, Ronan had put his fist into the bathroom mirror, his face tear-wet, strung so tight he'd snapped. Unable to stand seeing the face of his dead father in every reflection, the way that it felt like a mockery. And K had held him, grabbed the electric shaver while Proko had pulled the glass from his skin and wrapped the cuts.

It's when it had hit Ronan just how fiercely he needed the two boys, like they both called to different parts of him.

There's a crown hidden among the thorns and petals, but he doesn't point it out. Maybe it's more Kavinsky's symbol, but to Ronan it makes him think of them both; his princes. He tries to keep his voice casual when he looks over at Proko, a slight tilt of his head. His breath shakes a little, in a rush that's almost giddy. He wants him to hold his hand, but hasn't worked up the courage to ask for it yet.]

What do you think?

[dreamedboy]

[Prokopenko was happy to go with Ronan for his tattoo. Proko had one of his own but it was small, especially compared to what Ronan was planning on getting; a small K on his right thumb. It was absolutely a proof of ownership type of thing, but he didn't mind belonging to Kavinsky. The other boy had done a lot for him, gone above and beyond what the average person could offer. Sometimes, he still got unsteady about what he was--what Proko himself was, not Kavinsky being a dreamer--but not tonight.

Tonight he was here for Ronan, admiring the design of the tattoo he was going to get. It felt ambitious for someone's first one, but he wouldn't even dream of trying to talk Ronan out of it. The opposite, in fact; he fully supported him, and not just because the design was breathtaking. Ronan deserved to get what he wanted after what life had done to him. And even without that, Proko was a firm believer in people doing what made them happy, especially with their own bodies.

He nodded slowly, breaking into a smile as he reached over to skim his hand against the back of Ronan's head, almost like he'd been going to ruffle his hair, except for- well.]

It's great. Like, there's so much to it.

[He meant it in a good way. It was so intricate, so lovely.

He was also trying, he was really trying, not to be obvious about how he was appreciating Ronan without his shirt on. It wasn't like it was even the first time, he just- every time he saw an expanse of skin on either of his boys, he took a moment to admire it. It was more than just a shallow physical attraction though; he was deeply invested in both Ronan and Kavinsky. Fiercely loyal and protective.]

Are you nervous? I wouldn't blame you if you were.

[But that was a big chunk of why Proko was here; to be moral support. Some things were always scarier when you went through them alone and he didn't- Ronan shouldn't be alone.]

something to live for;

[dreamforger]

[Proko is the only reason he's alive.

That's a hard thing to come to terms with. It's easier to parse through the fact that he was fucking selfish, that there were four boys that cared about him, that needed him. He'd dreamt Swan a car to make up for bleeding in the backseat, but Proko was... he didn't know what to say or how to say it.

The first night out of the hospital, it's all of them together, and they nearly smother Kavinsky for staying so close. But he has the good sense not to comment on it; if anything he's almost greedy for the attention, for the affection. Even if it's obvious how much his pack of boys care about him, right now he needs it more than ever. But tonight he'd staying at Proko's, just the two of them- like everything's back to normal.

It isn't.

But he climbs up onto the bed with him, curling up against his side, and trusting that the other boy wont push him away. He could always trust Prokopenko, always by his side. Before he'd dreamt him, and after.

He isn't dead. But this still almost feels almost like a dream, like waking from a nightmare. Where the world feels sharp and his edges feel too soft. Going from bleeding out on the floor with a broken heart to here, pressed up against Proko, and just the stitches in his arm. The other boy had visited him in the hospital, even when Kavinsky had been a wreck -- hardly fit for his own skin, let alone for company.

He was sure that if Proko could have fought his way into keeping watch by his side, he would have.]

I-- I'm sorry, man. I wasn't thinking. I... thank you.

[He knows that he should have said it sooner, but somehow it's here where he manages to find the words, or at least to try and stumble through them. Curled up against him and in his bed, tears in his eyes, fingertips shyly smoothing down his side.]

I didn't mean to hurt you.

[It's vague on whether he means nearly killing Proko because he was his dream, or the suffering because Proko cared about him. Probably both, honestly. The words all feel shallow, like they're not enough. And without an audience, Kavinsky sort of wants to just press himself into the other boy's chest and shake through the feelings he can't name, but he's trying to not be selfish for at least a minute or two.]

[dreamedboy]

[He absolutely would have stayed in Kavinsky's hospital room 24/7 while he'd been there if he could have. Usually, he was okay with being separated from his dreamer. They weren't always attached at the hip. But the two weeks following Kavinsky's suicide attempt were some of the worst in his life. On the one hand, he'd known that medically, the boy had been in good hands. On the other, he hadn't trusted a single person in the hospital to properly take care of him and keep him safe. Maybe it was paranoia. It probably was.

He'd already cried multiple times over the last few days, mostly when no one else had been around to see, and today his eyes were red from it. No matter how angry he got with Kavinsky sometimes he wouldn't dream of pushing him away. Neither of them were perfect but K was his best friend.

Rolling towards Kavinsky, Prokopenko wrapped his arms around him, pressing a gentle kiss against the side of his head. It was more tender than he usually let himself be but he knew he was safe with K. Safe to be vulnerable.]

You scared the hell out of me.

[Kavinsky didn't have to thank him but it was something of a relief to know that he wasn't upset with Proko for saving his life. And maybe it meant there wouldn't be another attempt. Some things were out of Proko's hands and he hated it. He hated that he couldn't be everything Kavinsky needed to keep him happy and alive. Sometimes, he felt like he wasn't good enough. Other times, he knew better than that. Today was the former.]

I'm nothing without you.

[He said it first in Ukrainian and then again in English. He might have been more comfortable with English but he'd been learning Ukrainian for years because it made his grandmother happy and he was, not so secretly, her favorite grandson.

Maybe it was a little selfish of him- or maybe it wasn't. He owed his continued existence to Kavinsky and he was, quite literally, nothing without him. He wondered if there was an afterlife, sometimes. He wondered if the previous him was jealous.

He couldn't even joke that he'd kill Kavinsky himself if he tried to commit suicide again because he'd never lay hands on him like that. He couldn't bring himself to do it. They were both rough but he loved K with all of his heart. It was stupid and cheesy, but-]

I wouldn't want to exist in a world without you.

[Which was fitting, because he wouldn't exist in a world without him. He knew that K hadn't meant to hurt him, but he still had, and- Proko couldn't hold it against him. He knew that Kavinsky must've been hurting a lot to do something so desperate.]

[dreamforger]

[Kavinsky just snuggled in against the other boy, wrapping his arms around him, a soft murmur as he presses a soft kiss to the side of his face. He echoes the gesture, brushing his mouth against the curve of one of his shoulders. If anything, he actually appreciates how soft he is, since he feels like he needs it right now. The comfort and the affection. He can't help feeling ashamed for what he put his boys through, Proko most of all. But he doesn't quite know how to say that.]

I promise I wont do that to you again.

[He hadn't known what it would do to Prokopenko. He's still trying to parse through it, because he'd never considered what being a dream thing might mean for the other boy. He'd just been greedy and desperate- the idea of being without him a hole he hadn't known how to face. And now their lives were tied together, Proko's life measured in how long Kavinsky could keep himself alive, and that felt terrifying. He'd always assumed his dreams would continue on without him.

Normally, he would have argued if Proko said he was nothing without Kavinsky. But right now he can't bring himself to, and so he just tangles their legs together and holds on to the other boy. His fingers brushing up against his ribs, and then curling in his hair.]

It was stupid. I just-- I felt so alone that I forgot I wasn't.

[He laughs a little as he presses his face into Proko's chest. It's fucking embarrassing to admit to. But he'd been distraught and miserable and he hadn't been thinking, just feeling. Like he was alone in the world, like there wasn't a single person that understood him, that would care if he was gone.

All over a boy that wouldn't have noticed. That pushed him away and used him, like he wasn't good enough.]

I... I couldn't exist in a world without you, either. But you know that, don't you?

[He says it softly, vulnerable as he looks into the other boy's eyes, brushing fingertips through his hair with something far more tender than he'd usually allow himself. Emotion that he doesn't have words for smoldering in his dark eyes. They rarely talk about this; the dreaming, the fact that Kavinsky had brought him back to life. That he'd needed him too much to let him die.

Forever his favorite forgery.

He couldn't imagine a world without Proko in it. He couldn't imagine looking his grandmother in the face and telling her he'd let the other boy die. He'd felt so many complicated things for Prokopenko when he was alive. Now they were more complicated, if anything. Forever unsure what the other boy wanted and what Kavinsky had dreamed into him. But that was his own fault, really.

So they lingered in this grey space, touching without talking about it, pretending it didn't mean anything. And then there had been Ronan, and that had made it easier. Except that now there wasn't. And Kavinsky was so torn open it was hard to remember why loving him had ever felt wrong.]

[dreamedboy]

I'm going to hold you to that.

[He was going to make sure Kavinsky kept his promise, somehow. One way or another. There was something romantic though, about the fact that if Kavinsky died so did Prokopenko. They couldn't exist without each other and it wasn't just silly nonsense. It was real.]

It wasn't stupid. You were hurting. I- I should've been there for you.

[He should have been able to do something for him, to know that he was hurting before the disaster had happened. Kavinsky'd gotten in over his head before but never like this. One could argue that he was maybe always in over his head, but- he wasn't a sinking ship. He was- Prokopenko's everything.

He met Kavinsky's eyes, swallowing around the lump in his throat. He knew he was important to K, knew he cared about him, but- Proko desperately wanted to be enough for him, to appeal to him the same way Lynch had. Or did. But he could never bring himself to ask why he wasn't good enough. He didn't want to hear the answer, he didn't want to hear what was wrong with him. Maybe there was nothing wrong with him and it was Kavinsky who was flawed but that felt like blasphemy. Kavinsky was a king and Proko was content being his right-hand-man, his dog- most of the time. Sometimes he wanted more. Often, really.]

I know.

[His voice was quiet and he sighed softly before leaning his head against Kavinsky's. Closing his eyes, he asked, before he could second guess himself-]

What does Lynch have that I don't?

[Maybe he shouldn't have asked, maybe he should have kept it to himself, maybe it was too soon, but-]

[dreamforger]

[At the question, he makes a soft, almost wounded sound. He knows the question has been in the air between them for a while, but he's never actually asked it before, and so Kavinsky has never had to answer it.]

Fuck Lynch. He's not better than you.

[But K knows that's not a real answer. He's asking why Kavinsky pursued Ronan in the first place. Why he wasn't content with the boy that was loyal beyond anything, the one that was there for him, that cared. And maybe on another night he would have shrugged it off, or said something cruel that he would have regretted and Proko would probably have forgiven him for.

But he can't do it, not tonight. Not after two weeks in the hospital with Prokopenko there during visiting hours every damn day. Not when he'd literally saved his life, gave him something to live for.]

I was in love with you when- when I dreamt you.

[He says it softly, like that's the answer, like he might just leave it there. But after a moment he sighs, pressing his forehead to the other boy's shoulder. As much as he hates talking about it, hates admitting to his own shame, he doesn't want to leave the other boy with half-answers. He doesn't want him to assume it's because he's not right, or not real, or not good enough.]

What if I dreamt you to love me?

[He looks guilty as he murmurs the words into his shirt. He pulls back and meets his eyes, softly brushing hair back from his face with something like longing in how his fingertips touch against his skin. There's something different in how Kavinsky looks at him, all the feelings he's been hiding, but also uncertainty.

He doesn't want to take something Prokopenko wouldn't have given him, and he'd never had the spine to ask. Would he even know? Would K just ruin the other boy with his own fears? He watches him like he thinks this might be the one thing that Proko could hate him for.]

Not on purpose, but I wanted you to want me.

[dreamedboy]

[For a moment, Proko regretted asking. He didn't like the sound K made, he didn't like thinking he was just digging into wounds. But then his breath caught and he felt- helpless, in a way. He'd known Kavinsky cared about him, but he'd never actually thought he loved him.

He'd never thought about K changing him to make him love him, either. Out of all the fears he had, that hadn't been one of them. Maybe thinking about it now should have upset him or something like that but he couldn't bring himself to feel anything except- relief, maybe. It seemed like a silly thing to worry about to him when he'd been sure he loved Kavinsky both before and after being dreamed back to life. Would he know if that had been changed? It was all a bunch of what ifs and he couldn't be angry with K for that.

They were both bad at this, weren't they?]

I think I've always loved you.

[He admitted in a murmur. There was nothing frightening about saying it, not when he knew now that K loved him.]

You should've said something sooner.

[His tone wasn't accusing or upset, just- sad. All the times he'd worried he wasn't good enough because he wasn't human anymore or maybe because he was too loyal, too obedient, too- or maybe not obedient enough, sometimes. He wasn't afraid to put Kavinsky in his place when things got rough; he knew that no matter how much they fought they'd still be friends the next day. He wasn't worried about losing his friendship but he worried about everything else.

And he guessed saying something sooner went both ways and he was just as guilty for not speaking up, but. He'd just assumed Kavinsky would let him know if he wanted him.

His arms tightened around the other boy a little more.]

I don't care if you did, though. Dreamt me to love you, I mean. Because I do, and you're- beautiful and- [His cheeks tinged pink.] -amazing and-

[But he didn't say anything else, biting his lip and trying not to look as flustered as he felt.]

[dreamforger]

[Maybe Kavinsky should have argued with him. But there's something touching about the way that Prokopenko tells him that he doesn't care if he did dream him to love him. And it Proko doesn't care-- He's always tried to treat him like he was just another one of his boys. He wouldn't have attempted to convince Skov that he couldn't be in love with him, and so he tried to give him the same respect. Because Kavinsky didn't think of him as different.

He wasn't a dreamthing, he was just- Proko.

Maybe it was a little bit selfish, but-- he couldn't help thinking that they'd both struggled enough over the last two weeks. He wasn't going to invite problems that don't seem to exist. So he just smiles, for what feels like the first time since Ronan left him alone in the dream field. He snuggles into the warmth of his body, the warmth of the fact that the other boy loves him.]

Yeah, I should have. But I still mean it. I still- I love you.

[Kavinsky shifts so that he's on his side, facing him, so that he can trail his fingers down the side of his face, cupping his jaw so he can brush his thumb against his lips. And his heartbeat skips, and he's glad that they're curled together in Proko's bed right now, because he feels unsteady. He doesn't know if it's just finally having it out in the open between them, or just the way that he's gone from the low of crawling home after the hospital to this. He bites his lip just to keep himself focused, shakes his head because he feels- overwhelmed, almost. Like he wants to fold into his arms and stay there.]

Kiss me?

[It's not the first time they've kissed, but- it would be the first time with the truth between them. It's the first time that Kavinsky has asked, trembling and undone. Selfishly he just wants to be loved, he wants to show Proko how much he loves him. He wants to kiss the way that he's always felt into his mouth, against his skin.

He wants to hold onto him, and keep him safe; even if he'd failed the first time.]

[dreamedboy]

[Maybe he should have cared; something about the loss of free will, but neither of them could say for certain if loving Kavinsky had been dreamt into Proko or not. Until there was a way to know, one way or the other, Proko didn't see the point in getting upset about it. There were plenty of other more valid things to worry about, things he wasn't going to think about right now because they just- they didn't matter in this moment.

He was far more interested in the way K said I love you, the way that it made him feel warm and wanted and like there were butterflies in his stomach and like, just for a moment, he was weightless. He'd always had a feeling Kavinsky was the one, long before finding out about what he could do, back when they'd just met. There was a reason he had a K tattooed on his right thumb. It was small and subtle and simple but every time he looked at it, he was reminded of his connection to the other boy.

Goosebumps tingled across his skin when K touched his face, and subtly he tipped his head into it, eyes half closing for a moment. He couldn't help but smile, sliding one hand up to cup the back of Kavinsky's head gently, and then kissed him just as gently. Most of the time, he didn't think of K as fragile, knew he could take care of himself, but- he also knew better than most who the boy was under the bravado and drugs and sly words. Right now, K was fragile- that wasn't shocking after what'd happened. Proko would help hold all of his broken pieces together with tenderness and affection.]

Do you want to-

[He paused for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to ask his question. In the end, he switched tacts, went for something bolder and therefore a little more frightening-]

Does this mean we're- dating?

dreampack Eli verse~

[richspoiledrotten]

[It's later, after they'd managed to clean up Kavinsky's bedroom and dream him a better (bigger) mattress. Eli is still in K's tee-shirt, but he'd changed into jeans instead of just his boxers before venturing out of the other dreamer's bedroom.

Things are surprisingly quiet- he assumes that Skov and Swan are either fucking again, or still passed out somewhere. It gives him a quiet moment to catch Proko more or less alone. So he slides over to sit next to him on the couch, looking at him a little awkwardly. He bites the inside of his cheek for a moment, then just shrugs and curses under his breath and drags a hand through his sleep-mussed hair.]

I suck at trying to be subtle, so- K said you know about him and that I can trust you. I'm.. sort of like him, except that I suck at it.

[He'd actually wanted to talk to Proko about this for a while, but hadn't known how without outing himself. Something about Proko that drew him in more than the other boys. He almost felt like Kavinsky in a way that he didn't know how to explain. He wanted to protect him. Of course, Elijah would fight for K and all of his boys. But he'd fight for Proko first.]

[dreamedboy]

[Prokopenko was still a little on edge. The earlier gunshot had been alarming and even though everything was okay now, for a brief moment it hadn't been. Kavinsky was his world and Proko thought he'd kill someone for him. Not Elijah- someone outside of the pack, if they were a threat. Whatever'd happened, Elijah wasn't the threat; Proko was sure of that.

He looked over when the other boy joined him on the couch, watching him wearily for a moment. Part of him wanted to just lay his head in Elijah's lap and go to sleep, but he resisted the urge. Instead, he blinked a few times, processing the new information he was told.

Nodding slowly, he said-]

Sucking's the first step to being good at something.

[He'd never really known Kavinsky when he'd sucked at dreaming, but he assumed his king had been awful at it once upon a time, too.]

You can trust me, [He added.] I've known about K for years. I wouldn't tell anyone. So, how're you 'sort of' like him?

[richspoiledrotten]

[Honestly, Elijah wouldn't have protested if he had just laid his head in his lap and gone to sleep. He might've been unable to resist brushing his fingers through his hair, but he wouldn't have minded. Instead he was just basically holding his breath as he waited to see how Proko took that particular revelation. He'd only ever told one person before, when he'd been young and foolish.

But he smiles lightly when he says that sucking is the first part of getting good. Which is a rather comforting way to look at things; it's a hard perspective to argue with. Eli is just rather unaccustomed to not being able to figure things out on his own.]

I can make dreams real too. I guess I do it differently than K does. But he said he'd help me. I just.. I don't know how to keep dreams in my head when I fall asleep.

[He shrugs his shoulders a little uncomfortable with the admittance, but he leans in a little so that their shoulders touch. He trusts Proko in a way that feels easy, even if he's not particularly prone to trusting people. Different than the way that he trusts Skov and Swan and Jiang.]

[dreamedboy]

[Another dreamer? Or someone like a dreamer. Proko had never considered that there might be other people with some sort of dream abilities who weren't dreamers like Kavinsky. It made him realize just how small his corner of the world was and how little he really knew about magic and the individuals who possessed it. He wanted to learn though; he wanted to broaden his horizons.]

That does seem to be the hard part.

[There wasn't anything sarcastic about his tone when he agreed. He knew K had trouble with that sometimes, too. How were you supposed to keep things in your head when you were sleeping and everything had that dream-like quality? He imagined it was kind of like that movie- The Sphere. They'd all struggled to keep their dreams and nightmares in their heads, too.]

I'm sure he'll help you figure something out. He's good at the whole dreaming thing. And you're a friend. Which means K cares about you.

[Which meant K would be more likely to be patient and understanding about things.]

weird stuff is my jam; v2

[threesecrets]

[When Kavinsky brings him home, he can feel the way that Prokopenko bristles, defensive and protective. All of them are, really, but with Proko it's the worst. But there's also something there between them, nameless, that they both try to ignore.

And then there's this: that night, sitting on the couch, a cautious space between them.

Ronan tells him.

It's still halting and unsure, but he says it into the air between them, his smile curved and a little sad. Something he can't put into words: that feeling that what he is makes it so he might never be quite enough for anyone. But he wants to be. He's trying to be.]

I had to try. I had to know if I could save him.

[He thinks out of anyone, maybe Prokopenko would understand.

Kavinsky's alive at the end of the night, and Ronan is here, so it feels like a victory. Even if things are still strange. Up close he seems a little bit brighter, that fire that was always in Ronan's heart easier to see. He's not softer precisely, but his edges aren't meant to cut himself as well as the people around him. Ronan's worst urges instead something stranger.

He doesn't say it, but there's a current under the words: I wont hurt him.]

[dreamedboy]

[Proko was wary and weary both. He owed everything he was to Kavinsky, but more importantly than that, K was his best friend. He'd do anything for him but even he hadn't known just what had been going to happen on the Fourth. He'd never have guessed that Ronan would be here, having chosen Kavinsky. He should have chosen him a lot sooner but Proko was probably biased. Most definitely.

He took a breath and held it for a moment.]

You're what he's always wanted.

[Who Kavinsky had always wanted. He might not have gone about things the best way but he'd done it the only way he'd been capable of. Fuck, but if Proko said he didn't love him he'd be lying. But it wasn't his place; it wasn't him that Kavinsky had tried so hard to get. Proko tried to tell himself he was okay with that. He wasn't sure he really was.]

You're here now. [He added.] You know what they say; better late than never. And you weren't too late.

[That was what was important.]

But if you hurt him-

[He didn't finish; he let the threat hang.]

end of the world AU;

[threesecrets]

[Ronan hadn't actually dealt with any of K's other boys so far. Not that he was avoiding them, but he also was sort of avoiding them. He didn't really know what to say. He didn't really know how to defend the fact that he was here after everything that had happened before, when that summer felt both so close and so far away. And well- he also just couldn't be dragged away from Kavinsky that first day. He needed to touch him, to apologize with his body.

He really hoped that no one else had heard the noises he'd made.

But eventually, sometime late morning, he does come down and brave the kitchen. Skov and Swan and Jiang are thankfully not in attendance, but he does see Proko. He could have just turned around, but instead he takes a breath and steps into the space. His body language isn't aggressive; not like he's looking for a fight, but like he doesn't know if he's going to find one anyway. He holds himself in a way that feels quieter, a little bit more sure.

As if he now knew the answer to whether or not he could stand on his own. Or at least, it wasn't Gansey that he needed, that felt like a tether around his heart.

He moved through the kitchen, grabbing two mugs and filled them from the coffee machine. He takes his with sugar, no milk, and it only takes him a moment or two to remember how Kavinsky takes his coffee. He watches Prokopenko quietly, knowing he should say something, but not quite knowing what the right words are. And he wants-- he never would have said the words, but K's boys had felt like his friends too, once. Before he'd burnt that bridge because he was too scared to admit that it mattered.]

I'm sorry. I know I fucked up a lot of things, and that Kavinsky and you and everyone else suffered for it. But I also can't stay away from him.

[He never would have apologized before. He would have ignored there was a problem, and snarled something awful if it seemed like that wasn't enough to handle it. This is something else. It's trying, and not in a way that requires a codebook for Ronan Lynch and his particular awfulness. It's saying it outloud, trying to do things different this time. To make things better. He doesn't know if it's enough, but he wants it to be.]

[dreamedboy]

[Prokopenko didn't know what he expected when Ronan showed up the other night. He hadn't expected to fight with Kavinsky, to be told to shut the fuck up, like his concerns weren't valid. He usually spent the night in K's bed but- He wasn't sure if he was more jealous or worried about Kavinsky.

So he bristled when he saw Ronan in the kitchen but he didn't lash out first, he didn't say something cutting. Maybe if he waited long enough, Ronan would say something that'd make him change his mind about wanting to kick him to the curb. He didn't expect an actual apology though and for a moment, his brows furrowed. Turning towards Ronan, he let his words sink in for a moment.]

He almost died. Because of you.

[And that thought was more terrifying than knowing Proko would've gone with Kavinsky. He didn't want to live without his dreamer, anyway. It was selfish, maybe, but Proko'd always been that way.]

What do you want from him?

[He thought that what Ronan wanted would dictate everything. Or at least, it'd be a solid place to start. Proko could try and decide if Ronan's intentions were genuine or if he was going to fuck everything up again. It probably wouldn't make Prokopenko any less jealous though, but that was a different matter. Kavinsky's safety came first. Kavinsky came first. He always did.]

[threesecrets]

I know.

[He almost said something about how he would have done it different if he could, but it feels like that isn't good enough. It was a cheap thing to say, and probably not what Prokopenko actually cared about. He knows that saving him at the last second didn't unravel all the rest of it. He had tried to keep away from Kavinsky, to let him be safe by not being part of his life. He didn't ignore him completely, but it was- different. As if it could be anything else.

The question that follows is different, though. It's about the now, about what he wants. It's the question that has always been hard for him, but it isn't as hard as it used to be anymore. He sighs quietly, shifting so that he can lean back against the counter. The hard part isn't what he wants, it's trying to express what he feels in words.]

Kavinsky saved me. I wasn't in the Vaults. I was asleep, dreaming for two hundred years or however long it's been. I think I would have dreamed forever without him.

[He curses a little because that's not really an answer to Prokopenko's question. It's context, it says something, even if Ronan doesn't entirely explain what that something is. But he doesn't know if he can just say the truth on the air between them. Even if it beats in his chest with every stutter of his heart, it feels cruel, somehow. Like the subtext would be saying he wants to steal Kavinsky from him. Although that isn't really untrue, either.

That was part of what had made him flinch and try to deny it even when it was obvious to basically anyone with eyes how Ronan had felt. Was there any way to admit to the things K had wanted from him, to say that he felt it too, without feeling like it would end in suffering ? Was there a way to love him without Kavinsky ruining him? There were still those old worries buried, the concern that the things they needed were different, that Ronan wouldn't be enough.

But he's at least a little bit more self-aware now, better at quieting those bitter voices. He's willing to put in the effort to try and work through those questions for Kavinsky, even if it's difficult. To see if this thing they'd started the other day was something they could hold onto, if K wanted to hold onto it.]

I just- I want Kavinsky. I want to give him whatever I can that he still wants from me. I want to see if there's still a chance.

[dreamedboy]

[He was trying to convince himself that Ronan had learned from his mistakes, that he wouldn't hurt Kavinsky again like he had before. But he was wary. It was hard for him to trust the dreamer.

Taking a deep breath, he held it for a moment before exhaling. Wanting Kavinsky was something they had in common, but Proko had a different connection to him, being one of his dreams. He knew there'd been a him before the dream and he knew that he'd died, however fuzzy those memories were, but he also knew he'd been important enough to Kavinsky to bring him back to life. His point was...he didn't know what his point was. Maybe that he literally needed Kavinsky to survive. Maybe Kavinsky needed Ronan in a similar way.]

How'd you survive?

[He felt like he should ask, both to not be rude and because he was genuinely curious. Ronan had survived somehow and to not be in a vault to do it- maybe Kavinsky had dreamed him. It would explain a lot, really.

Looking down, Proko hesitated for a moment, not long.]

You know he loves you, right? He wasn't the same after- [He shrugged. He was sure Ronan could figure out what the 'after' meant.] He was always brighter with you. Like without you he's missing something.

If you want a chance, I think he'll give it to you. But if you hurt him- if you break his heart- I'll make sure you regret it.

[threesecrets]

I.. fuck man. So I'm half-dream to begin with. And I curled up in the roots of a tree on the ley line, one strong enough to survive. Ilidorin. Back then I couldn't tell the difference between being hungry for food or hungry for the ley line. And I think for me it's sort of the same thing?

[He shrugs his shoulders, dragging a hand against his scalp. He doesn't really see the point in being cagey about it. And it feels like it hasn't been a secret for such a long time. He doesn't have the answers, doesn't know what it means, but he knows that he's part dream, that he's the Greywaren. He knows those pieces matter, even if he doesn't quite grasp their shapes.]

I was alone and I couldn't wake up. And then Kavinsky- he found me somehow. Called for me in the dream, said my name or something. Like I'm a princess in a fucking fairytale. I ended up here because.. finding him was the only thing that made sense.

[It's a messy thing that Ronan only half understands. And there's certainly enough strangeness that it doesn't entirely disprove that K could have dreamed the boy with the shaved head standing in their kitchen. Once he would have been sure that he could tell the difference, but that was a long time ago. Ronan's attached to Kavinsky now, even if he shies from quite saying that directly. A tether, not quite a leash. But he can feel the other dreamer's proximity if he lets himself.

His voice quiets, and he bites at his bottom lip, trying to focus. He hasn't even told K the truth yet, hasn't said the words where he can hear them, even if they're always on the tip of his tongue. His expression says that he didn't know that K loved him, or that if he did it wasn't something he knew how to believe; it wasn't a truth he could pull out and look at. It felt like wishful thinking, like something he didn't deserve.]

I need him, too. And I've loved him since back when we started racing, I guess. But it just felt like so much, and I couldn't-- it felt like I was drowning. Like I'd fucking say please while he held me under. And I didn't know how to handle that, let alone talk about it.

What I mean is- I'm trying to do things different. I want to give him as much as I can.

[He doesn't promise that he wont break his heart, but he also accepts Proko's threat. He doesn't want to hurt Kavinsky, but he also knows that he's still a mess, and that love doesn't mean they wont still hurt each other.]

[dreamedboy]

[That would sound like a bunch of bullshit if Prokopenko wasn't a dream himself, if he didn't know about the existence of dreamers. So instead of calling bull on it, it caught his curiosity. He straightened up a little but resisted the urge to interrupt Ronan.]

How can you be half-dream? I thought- shit. You mean like, one of your parents was a dream?

[That was the only explanation, right? But if that was true it meant dreams could have children and families and- Prokopenko didn't know if he wanted kids and he definitely didn't want to go about getting one biologically, but. Just the idea that he could filled him with...something. He couldn't pinpoint what it was but it was a positive emotion.

He tried not to be selfish though and think about his own future when they were talking about Ronan and Kavinsky. His expression smoothed when Ronan said he loved K. He would've said you didn't hurt someone you loved but- sometimes hurting the people you cared about was inevitable. Usually, hopefully, it was by accident, but it still happened.

He also knew that emotions could be terrifying. Sometimes, some of the things he felt scared himself with their intensity. His fear about if he was human or not, terror about what the future held. Self-loathing, at times. Bitterness that he'd died. It all formed an unpleasant cocktail. Usually, he did the best he could to pretend he wasn't on the verge of a mental breakdown. Sometimes, it was even true.

Smiling a little, he took a breath and exhaled.]

A lot of time's passed. We've all had time to reflect on shit. A lot of things have changed but some things haven't. I guess, what I'm trying to say is, I don't wanna break your face anymore.

[But he would if Ronan hurt Kavinsky, on account of being K's best friend and all.]

And, also I guess this means- I dunno. If K's giving you a second chance, so will I.

[threesecrets]

Yeah. My mom. Aurora. But even after my dad died and she fell asleep, I never questioned her, I never-- she was always real to me. But, yeah. Half-dream, half-dreamer.

[Just like Matthew. But Ronan doesn't say that part because Matthew isn't here. He isn't under a tree or in a vault. So there's hurt there, the sort that will cut him open if he lets it. But he thinks that maybe Prokopenko will understand what it means to be half-dream in a way that no one else really has. That he's a little less real, a little less human than the world around him was. That especially after all this time, he felt a little out of place, lost.

Kavinsky felt like something, though. He felt- like home.

He wants the other boy to understand that he means what he says about Kavinsky. That he's not-- he knows that he fucked up before. But he wants to try again, wants to make it better, fit together in the ways that he thinks he and Kavinsky were maybe always meant to. Or maybe he just wants to believe that they were meant to, that there was weight to the feelings that had never left his chest. He smiles a little at the way he says that he doesn't want to break his face anymore.

Which is a start, anyway. He'll take it.]

Thanks. I want to try and do it right this time. I want to try and- fuck, I dunno. I want to make him happy.

[He shrugs his shoulders, doesn't really know how to put it into words. He feels tied to Kavinsky, like he needs this, like all the years have peeled away the things he hadn't been able to face before. And well, he figures that if Proko will give him a chance, the others will too, even if he has to fight for it.]

[dreamedboy]

[Proko took a moment to reflect on that, to just- think about it. He hadn't even known dreams could have kids but that meant they were more real than he thought. People just like anyone else. Even after all of this time, he struggled with feeling real.]

You know, dreams are still- we're special. Someone wanted us to exist.

[Alright, so the same could be said about most people and kids, but still.]

But I'd always thought there was something about you. I just couldn't figure out what.

[Could dreams feel other dreams? He'd never really had anyone to ask, but it seemed that way now.

Proko smiled.]

At least we're on the same page about something. He deserves to be happy. Especially, after all the shit that's happened.

[threesecrets]

Kavinsky said I should talk to you.

[Ronan's shoulders are a little bit curled in, and one of his hands rubs at the scruff of his hair at the back of his scalp. It's the first thing he says, gets it out like he feels that he needs to say it or else Proko might just tell him to fuck off. His pale skin is a little flushed, but he's sort of been like that all day.

Or rather, he's been unbearable all day. Burning up in his skin and aching aimlessly in a way that he couldn't solve with his own fingers. It was also the weekend, and Swan and Skov had taken off, and Ronan was having one of his rough nights. Not bad, so much as just-- he needed something, someone that was willing to put their teeth into him, that knew he wouldn't break. Or no, it was more complicated than that. Someone that knew that he he wanted them to try, that he wanted to be pushed to the edge, and have their arms be the thing that stopped him from going over, to only be taken as far as he wanted to go. But Kavinsky could tell, of course.

So eventually he'd cornered Ronan, manhandled him a little, and it had almost felt like when they were both wrapped around the other's finger. He'll never say that he misses it, because he's just-- it means so much to him just that he still gets to be around them. That when Kavinsky had backed him up against the wall that he'd kissed him, and that Ronan knew it was okay. Not something that was a secret, and he could just enjoy the feeling. And they mean so much to him, too. He likes seeing them together, seeing them happy, how they make each other happy.

But Adam and K had something planned, though Ronan's head was too fuzzy to really pick up the details except that it was something with magic.

Kavinsky had offered talking to Adam, but Ronan had backed out of that idea fast. The other boy had only just barely started unwinding, trusting it when Ronan wasn't in his line of sight. So he didn't want-- he didn't know. He didn't want Kavinsky to have to tell Adam that he needed help or something. And he didn't want Adam to have to deal with all of Ronan's darker desires, either. Not knowing his history like he does. So he'd meant to just walk away, but then of all fucking things, Kavinsky had told him to talk to Prokopenko.

He's tried to shrug it off, but K was a fucking cheater. Kavinsky put his chin on Ronan's shoulder, and the words brushed against his ear in a way that went through him like fire. But the worst thing had been that he used that particular edge to his voice from when they would play together, the one that Ronan couldn't say no to. He was still bad at being obedient, except for when he wasn't. It was never easy for him, but sometimes it was what he ached for more than anything. And Kavinsky still remembered.

It was why his moods, his worse nights... it was hard for him to talk about it in a way that it wasn't when it was just the sex. If it had been about sex that would have been one thing, he'd probably have strolled into Jiang's room or done something with someone. Really, the point is that he wouldn't have been here, talking to Proko of all people.

He trusted Kavinsky though. He didn't think he'd push him at Proko, let alone that insistently, if there wasn't some merit to it. After all, he wasn't even here with them to watch things so sideways.]

He seemed to think-- fuck. Kavinsky said... Look, I get bad sometimes. Where I need someone to just- ruin me, and fuck me until I forget how to talk. And Kavinsky said that I should talk to you about it.

[He lifts his jaw, his lips thinned and he does not meet his eyes, because this is.. it's complicated and it's hard. He'd been so jealous of Proko before; so sure that he was the boy that would wrap around Kavinsky's heart. Which doesn't make it worse, but it sure doesn't make the idea of the conversation he'd trying to have any easier.]

And yeah, I know that's probably a shitty replacement for hello. But if I didn't say it now, I wasn't sure I'd say it at all.