[For Kavinsky, Unfortunately]

[thatsallthereis]

Gansey's heart was not in this.

There had to be another way, he'd thought. Surely there was some magic-maker in Darrow that could make so perfectly what Niall Lynch had once made. Henry's father had spent years trying to duplicate RoboBee's "technology" and was still not quite there. Tony Stark had tried and the outcome had been disastrous. It had landed Henry in the hospital. Tech couldn't do what a dreamer's mind could. Luckily, Gansey knew a dreamer. Less luckily, it was Ronan and he was feeling scorned. Things had blown up so spectacularly that Gansey hadn't even bothered to ask. He got the feeling that Adam agreed. There was no need to make all of this worse. Maybe some silence on the topic of Henry would do them some good.

That didn't change that something had to be done, and that there was only one other person that could do it.

if Gansey were to have asked Henry for Kavinsky's boyfriend's number, Henry would get suspicious. The last thing wanted was to get Henry's hopes up about feeling whole again when he still had to find a way to convince Kavinsky to do this. He didn't know what it would cost, and it would definitely cost something. Gansey only hoped it was something he could provide.

The young fellow with the poor judgement that worked at The Dressing Room did not provide Kavinsky's number, but he took Gansey's down. It hadn't been very long at all before he heard back. They set a meeting at a coffee place near the ocean. There, Gansey sat, rotating his phone between two fingers and wishing he had another option.

An orange door slammed. A door with a bell jingled open. Kavinsky was already there, but Gansey decided to get a coffee first. He smiled at the barista and tried to keep the same mirth. It was hard.

"Kavinsky," Gansey said by way of greeting, sitting himself down. "Thank you for meeting me." He didn't ask if Kavinsky wanted anything because he didn't care.

Comments

[thatsallthereis]

Pass was not something Gansey had expected to hear. Pass hadn't even been an option. No, if Gansey asked for a thing in earnest, he tended to get it. If he had a temper tantrum when he didn't, that would make him no different than Kavinsky.

No, no, he was so very different than Kavinsky. There was more than a scuff of a shoe against the floor in disappointment that separated them. Gansey had a future, he had people that counted on him and that he trusted. It appeared Kavinsky had these things in Darrow, though. Appeared because he wasn't capable of those things -- Gansey had seen that first hand. Good people didn't do the things that Joseph Kavinsky did. Not just the forgery and the questionable choice in friends, but all of the lying and the explosion and the amount of self-hatred that caused one to burst into flames or die via dragon. Gansey had a flair for life. Kavinsky had one for destruction. That was not okay.

He was on his feet and Gansey stayed where he was. Standing did not give power any more than sitting relinquished it, but it certainly made a statement. Gansey was, nonetheless, incredulous. "Beg your pardon?" he said, blinking from behind wire frames. "So that's it? A couple of jokes at Henry's expense and you're showing me the door?" As if there was a high road for him to take. That was almost enough to make Gansey laugh. On the inside.

[mitsubishievo]

Kavinsky scrutinized Gansey in that moment, still grinning, still standing there. There was no reason for any further exchange. But there was such bafflement in Gansey's eyes. He'd really, genuinely thought that he could purchase from Kavinsky, that he could come in here, eyes and heart blazing, and get what he wanted. And he thought, honestly, that that made him a better person.

there was no altruism here, as far as Kavinsky could see. No reason for Gansey's righteousness. For a boy that thought he knew a lot about the world, Kavinsky hoped that this was a revelation: that outside of Henrietta, Aglionby especially, and in Darrow, Gansey had no clout.

"Oh, no-no, Dickie. Do not get me wrong. I haven't said shit about Cheng." And he hadn't. Jabs had been at Dick, at what appeared a sensitive spot, at what appeared a lack of understanding and knowledge. Kavinsky, in times like this, preferred the easier target.

"This is all about you. Isn't it always? Dick Gansey, saint of monsters and savior of dusty boys since 2010. This is about reminding you that this place does not work by your rules."

Kavinsky leaned over the chair, just a bit. He did not get into Gansey's face. He thought the other boy might hit him, and Kavinsky didn't relish being escorted out of a place. "You can't buy your way into fixing this. The Ganseys don't fucking matter here. You're just another shleb like the rest of us."

He reached out, and patted Gansey's cheek. Soft, and just once. Then, he pulled away from the table, whistling nonchalantly as he left Gansey behind him and stepped out of the shop without a single glance back.

[thatsallthereis]

The jokes had been at the expense of his sexuality -- at his affection for Henry and the nature of their relationship -- but there was no use arguing semantics with a serpent. Gansey did not move. He kept his eyes angled up, undercut by cheekbones of steel and a jaw just as rigid. Kavinsky leaned and Gansey did not. Saying no was to be the only thing Kavinsky ever had on Richard Gansey III. He wouldn't rail, nor would he beg -- the mere idea was laughable.

"Do not touch me," Gansey said, sure of not much else but that Kavinsky was not going to touch him again. Kavinsky had a soul here. There were people and things he didn't want to lose. That made him a neutered Kavinsky. The Gansey Dynasty may not have meant anything here, but Gansey had the comfort of knowing that he was the same person. That no matter what his name meant, he was still doing good. Helping. Not hindering on a grudge like a petty child.

The bell chimed and Gansey let go of his breath. Well. That was an ill-advised venture. He should have just talked to Ronan.