You're panting, buzzing, and so, so high.
It's almost too much when Kavinsky pins your hands beside your head. Your fingers interlace and something liquid and heavy pools in your chest. He might not even be aware of what he's doing, and yet for you, this gesture makes this deal a whole lot more intimate than you're prepared to let it be.
Kavinsky is no boyfriend material, and you're in it for a host of complicated reasons, none of them involving tender feelings, but you're certain he's blurring the lines just to fuck with your head.
You're about to come when he just fucking stops and peers down at you.
"What the actual fuck, K?" You'd be lying if you said this wasn't kind of hot, Kavinsky's eyes dark and burning into your own, but you're also a little preoccupied at the moment. "Move."
"Answer me this," he says, apropos of nothing, sliding out of you torturously slow. "How much would it piss you off if I got into Gansey's pants before you did?"
"What?" Your brain's spinning like it's on a rotisserie, and it takes you some moments to understand what he's getting at. "Fuck, man. You don't know the first thing about Gansey. He's not gay."
"I'm not gay either, but I still like to make you scream." He snaps his hips as if to prove a point.
You'll never understand Kavinsky. Even balls-deep inside you, he'll claim he doesn't swing that way. How does his brain reconcile these facts? The drugs must have fried it.
"And you are such a screamer, before you try to deny it. It's okay, man. Nothing to be ashamed of."
"Why Gansey, why now?" you croak. Sweat pools in the hollow of your throat and your skin is ablaze. Gansey's name has that effect on you.
"You want to fuck him. I want to fuck. Somewhere down the line it should be possible to have you both naked in my bed."
"Shit," you breathe, drawn-out and insubstantial. You don't want to think about Gansey in your position, or anywhere near Kavinsky, undressed or not, but there it is, burrowing itself into your mind. "Never gonna happen, man. Not everyone is as sex-crazed as you."
Kavinsky's grinning wide. "You never thought you'd enjoy coming here either."
"Enjoy is a strong word."
"We ought to give Dick the chance to decide for himself, don't you think?" He leans close to peck your lips. "Who knows, he might want this as much as you do."
Before you have a chance to contradict him, he touches your prick and finally, finally gets you off. Your hand is cold with the phantom of his imprinted on it, and you're still reeling by the time he's chucked off his condom to rub his dick in your face.
"Or do you want to keep me all to yourself?"
In a way, you're glad he's trying to stuff his cock down your throat. That way, you don't have to answer.