Ronan felt his face go numb as he lay back onto the roof of the Evo, his skin burning as it made contact with the metal. It was painful to the touch, but the drugs were already filling his body with a high unlike any he had experienced before, not even while dreaming.
"What is this shit?" He drew a hand lazily across his face, wiping some of the residual white powder from his nose. The sun boring down on them drew fine trickles of sweat from his pores, but the drugs were emitting a cooling sensation through his veins, like they had been flushed through with ice water. Kavinsky grinned like a motherfucker but didn't answer.
Ronan laid his forearm across his eyes, blocking out the suddenly too-bright sun. Something about the substance he had just ingested made him forget the formerly unbearable heat. His whole body felt so…alive.
He felt something trickle onto his bare chest, right over his left nipple, like sand being poured onto his body. Or coke. Or whatever the fuck this drug was, because coke had never made him feel this amazing.
He peeked out from under his arm and saw a thin, messy line of white powder, stark and glowing against his tan skin, or maybe the drugs were messing with his vision too. He closed his eyes again, keeping his body still as he wondered what game Kavinsky was playing.
So far, he had only ever taken the drugs that would help him sleep. Those and beer. But when Kavinsky had texted him earlier, Ronan was in a mood to forget.
get your ass over here lynch, we're gonna party
And something drove Ronan to get his ass over there. He wasn't even thinking of dreaming when he got into his BMW and drove over to Kavinsky's place. And when he saw him there, shirtless and lying on the roof of his car, Ronan didn't really care what he had planned for them.
"I need to forget." The words had tumbled out before the thought had even fully formed in his head. Kavinsky lifted the trademark aviators up of his nose so that Ronan could see his eyes, and nodded in approval.
"Who fucking doesn't?" And then he grinned, and in that moment Ronan forgot that he was supposed to think of this guy as a despicable human being. Or maybe he just didn't care. Or maybe he didn't think he was that despicable.
Kavinsky had pulled out a few packets of white powder.
"Coke?"
"Nah, this stuff is better." And the next thing Ronan knew, he was doing lines off the roof of the Evo, his own shirt discarded, and Kavinsky was doing lines off of him.
He felt the tickle of Kavinsky's nose as it brushed across his nipple, the powder lifting off his skin. Ronan was hyper aware of every grain as it left his chest.
He heard the boy release a sigh that he didn't think was entirely induced by the drugs now coursing through his system. Ronan opened his eyes one more time, and was met with the sight of Kavinsky's head tilted back, a grin spread across his face. He looked so…light. He pushed his sunglasses up onto his head, the sunlight glaring off them and blinding Ronan. After a long moment, Kavinsky peered down at him through heavily lidded eyes, his face betraying too much lust for it to not be intentional. He crouched so that his chest hovered over Ronan's, wiry but defined muscles twitching, beads of sweat dotting the skin that seemed to glow pale gold in this light. He held most of his body weight on one forearm, his other arm reaching out over Ronan to steady himself, effectively trapping him. But he didn't even mind. In fact, he found himself wanting to close the space between them.
A drop of sweat fell from Kavinsky's chest in slow motion, landing where the white powder had just been snorted off Ronan's body. His dark eyes never left Ronan's not even as he brought his tongue to the trembling boy's skin, licking whatever was left of the drug. When Kavinsky's tongue passed over his nipple, Ronan felt a jump in his stomach and his jeans tightened involuntarily.
Kavinsky noticed, of course he noticed, and his smirk somehow managed to get even more self-satisfied and malicious. There was a voice in the back of his mind that told him he should be disgusted, but he pushed it away. He blamed it on the drugs.
"Feeling it yet, Lynch?" Kavinsky traced a finger along the contours of Ronan's collarbone. He closed his eyes, savouring the feel of his finger leaving a trail of fire on his now cool skin.
What about Adam? The voice in his head was desperate, quiet. Fuck Adam. Adam was too busy fucking Blue, or trying to be Gansey to even notice Ronan. Ronan could hold a sign saying "I want to fuck your brains out" and Adam wouldn't even notice.
You know that's not true. Yes, he knew, but it was easier to think of Adam like this, as someone he could hate, or pretend to hate, than to consider the truth. That he had a pathetic crush on someone who would literally never even consider him as a prospect.
A few moments had passed, and Ronan felt himself nod too eagerly, but he also felt like he no longer had control over his body. He knew his mask of indifference was gone and that whatever emotion he was feeling would be splayed on his face. And right now that emotion was lust. Whether it was for Adam or Kavinsky or both, he couldn't tell.
Kavinsky chuckled. Ronan felt his breath hot on his ear, and his lips brushed the skin there when he spoke. "No one has to know." Then he pressed cool lips to the space behind Ronan's ear, sucking on the skin there, almost painfully so. Ronan had no hope of suppressing the moan he felt rise in his chest. He felt Kavinsky smile against his neck as he moved to straddle him. Ronan's body grew accustomed to the drugs and he brought a shaky hand to Kavinsky's side.
Kavinsky pressed his lips hungrily against Ronan's driving them apart with the force of it. Ronan kissed back immediately, their lips moving desperately, angrily, but completely in tandem. Kavinsky pressed himself against him, smiling when he felt how Ronan's body was reacting to his touch. And Ronan wasn't the only one aroused.
Their chests were now flush against each other, sweat comingling, skin tingling and cool wherever they were touching. Ronan felt a sharp sting on his bottom lip and realized Kavinsky had bitten him. He pulled back, smirking as Ronan leaned up on his elbows and brushed his hand against the injury, his fingertips coming away bloody. He looked back at Kavisnky, trying to decide if he was angry or turned on. Turn on, definitely turned. The boy took Ronan's bottom lip between his own, sucking on it, and when he pulled back, his own mouth held traces of blood, his blood. Very fucking turned on.
Ronan hastily unbuttoned Kavinsky's pants, his hands fumbling with the buttons.
"Damn, Lynch, who knew Dick's lapdog was so frisky?" Kavinsky smirked. Ronan froze. What was he doing? He pushed Kavinsky off him.
"Shut the fuck up." He hopped off the car, grabbing his undershirt off the ground and tugging it angrily over his head. He wanted to leave before he did something truly stupid. He heard the car groan as Kavinsky hopped off as well.
"Little Lynch, always running away." Ronan stopped dead in his tracks. He turned slowly, wary of Kavinsky's eyes watching him, probably expecting a punch. Or some other violent outburst. But he was right. He was always running away.
In three short strides, Ronan had pushed Kavinsky up against the car, the back of the boy's thighs slamming into it, probably painfully, because he had intended to cause pain. With another push, he was down on the hood, his arms pinned above his head. Ronan kissed him roughly, leaving no room for dissent or rejection, not that Kavinsky was going to reject him. He had been momentarily surprised though, but he quickly caught up, kissing back just as forcefully. Ronan released his arms palmed him roughly, feeling him grow hard in his hand. He felt Kavinsky tug at his shirt and then he heard the sound of fabric tearing. The shirt was off in pieces before he could even gasp for air.
Kavinsky's hands were clawing at his back. It felt like he was trying to tear his skin apart just like he had done to his shirt. Ronan moved his lips to the boy's throat, finding his sweet spot very quickly and drawing moan after moan from his lips. His mouth moved lower, sucking on his clavicle, his chest, biting his nipple- that drew a breathy "fuck me" from him- to his stomach, his hipbone, the edge of his designer underwear…
"Fuck, Ronan." Ronan's lips were hovering just above his crotch now, only the fabric of his underwear standing between him and a blowjob. Kavinsky's eyes held need, real and raw and painful. But all Ronan could think about was that this was the first time he had said his name. He had him right where he wanted him. Ronan ran a single finger along the inside of the band on Kavinsky's underwear. He saw him shudder and swallow slowly. Ronan let out a slow breath, and saw the boy's crotch jump in response.
"Fuck you." Ronan pushed up off the car, leaving Kavinsky frozen in disbelief.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me! You fucking ASSHOLE!"
Ronan gave him the finger. At least he had forgotten about Adam, if only for a little while.