supra_et_ultra | (no subject)

Proko dives for his phone when he hears Jiang's ring tone. He'd been in the shower when it started ringing. "Hey," he gasps, a little breathless for a second. "Hey, I'm here."

He sits no the edge of the bed, wrapped in a towel. "I miss you." It's one of the first things he's said for every phone call over the summer - all three of them. He's just glad that Jiang has his phone back now; at least he can text him and shit, even if Jiang can't look at it all the time.

Edited 2017-06-30 04:34 (UTC)

Jiang hears Proko's voice, and that breathlessness, and his hand shakes against the back of his neck. He's quiet for a moment, trying to figure out what to say, because he doesn't even know.

Finally, and it feels like an eternity, but he manages, he says, "Hey baby. How's it goin'?"

Proko's afraid the call cut out or something - he knows that Bancroft has thick walls and that cell reception can be a bitch inside the massive dorm building. But then he hears Jiang breathing, and he hears his voice again.

He sinks down, laying on his side. "It's going okay. Fuckin' quiet around here. Mark is out at his girl's place. How are you doing, man?"

Again, Jiang was quiet for a second. He fidgeted with the phone, switched it to his other year and then back. He didn't know what to say.

And then he did. "Why didn't you tell me you and Kavinsky were fuckin' around?"

Proko feels something inside him seize up. It's a conversation he's been meaning, wanting to have. The six weeks of hell Jiang had just been through hadn't seemed the time, but... he's had a bit of time since then.

He wets his lips. "I've been planning to," he says quietly. "The three half hour phone calls you got over the summer seemed like a shitty time." And he hadn't been about to do it on Parents' Weekend, either.

"Planning to," Jiang says, voice pitching up a little bit. He frowns into the middle distance, wishing he could see Proko's face for this. "What, were you just hoping that I wasn't going to find out until you had time to tell me about it?"

Proko sits up, feeling restless and a little scared. He gestures a bit helplessly, even if Jiang can't see him. "I don't-- no," he says, pushing his fingers into his hair. "I didn't want you to have to think about it when we couldn't even talk for more than thirty minutes. I should've said something as soon as you had your phone back."

But Jiang had been so relieved to be done with his training. Proko hadn't wanted to shit on that relief.

"You didn't want me to have to think about it?" Jiang hisses. He wouldn't have been thinking about it if he'd known it was happening--instead, it had happened, at least enough times that they both felt comfortable to film it happening.

"Jesus," breathes Jiang. He holds the phone away from his head for a second, then brings it back. "How long?"

Proko shrugs. "It's not a how long thing," he answers. He doesn't see it that way, because if he has to answer that then he has to say always. "It's happened a few times."

He fidgets with the edge of his towel. "I didn't know how to say something," he murmurs. "Because whatever I say, it sounds really bad, huh?" He'd been scared, and he knows that isn't fair.

"You knew how to film it and let people pay to watch you two fuck," Jiang finds himself snarling. Because that's the crux of it. Proko couldn't tell him, someone he said he loved, but he could let the whole world know about it.

They hadn't even ever posted the video of the two of them fucking around, from before he'd gone in the summer. The people he'd spent the past two months with, almost, knew Proko from Parent's Weekend--and now from watching him wail on Joseph Kavinsky's cock.

"It wouldn't have sounded bad if you just said it. But you hid it. And I found out because my dorm mate found that video of the two of you. Are there more?"

"No," he says quietly. Because he can't deny anything Jiang is saying. He should have told him - he should have told him after the damn substance party, or-- or at least--

Proko tries to remember to breathe. "Will, I'm sorry."

"How many times?"

Jiang found, asking, that he wasn't mad. He was exhausted, frustrated, a little hurt. But he wasn't mad. So that was a good thing, he supposed. He'd seen his parents mad, and they held onto that for so long, and he didn't want to do that to Proko.

"Three," he answers helplessly. "A substance party, and then he just showed up here one morning, and-- and the cam." Kav had gone back to New York sometime in between all that, coming back to visit, coming back for Parents Weekend.

Proko counts three encounters. He doesn't want to enumerate the sex had during each.

"He's--" He cuts himself off, trying to figure out how to explain Kavinsky, what he is to him. But he can't. He has no words that are adequate in either language he knows. "I'm sorry," he says again, praying that Jiang believes him.

Jiang is quiet again for a moment. Then, slowly, he lets out a soft, vaguely hysterical laugh.

"Kav's last substance party was before we moved here," he says, voice aching in his throat. "You're tellin' me you've been fuckin' around for months, and you didn't have time to tell me about it?"

"Don't talk about it like we've been having this on-going affair," he says. "It was that one time, both of us fucked up beyond standing. Nothing happened until he showed up here earlier in summer."

Proko wants to disappear. He wants to die, dissolve between the cracks in the floorboards. He didn't want to do this over the phone.

But Jiang's right, right? He should've said something before they got there, should've tried to laugh about it or something. But it's too late now.

Edited 2017-06-30 05:45 (UTC)

"It was not just one time, Illya!"

Now, for a moment, he was mad. He held the phone away from his head again, just held it, and when he brought it back to his ear, he said, "I'm coming over."

"Can you do that?" Proko sits up, trying to remember if he has a rules-of-plebe-summer handbook somewhere. They usually give it to parents or sponsor families, but he has a copy. He knows Jiang gets weekend liberty once classes start.

"Don't get in trouble because of me."

"I'm coming over," Jiang says, because he is. Even if he has to find a way to bribe a marine. Even if he gets in trouble. He's not having this conversation over the phone. He needs to look Proko in the face for this.

It takes longer than he wants, but he manages it. An hour later, he's pounding on Proko's door.

Proko's at the door in a second, assuming that Jiang must have forgotten his key... Or had just been too mad to bring it. He backs up as soon as he opens the door; he doesn't really know what to expect, except that Jiang sounded pissed over the phone.

Almost as soon as he looked at him, Jiang felt the anger melt. He held onto it, the frustration and ache of betrayal. He needed that right now, just for a moment longer.

He stepped in, kicking the door shut behind him, before he grabbed the front of Proko's shirt and dragged him in, kissing him possessively.

That-- the kiss is not remotely what Proko has been expecting but as soon as it happens he sinks against Jiang, gripping the front of his uniform.

He would've had to get dressed just to leave the Yard. It's the first time Proko's seen him in a private space since Induction Day. He whimpers softly against Jiang's mouth.

Jiang pushes Proko's hands off, holds them down at his sides, and bullies him against the wall. They're barely in the door. He kisses him like he owns him, like he can kiss Proko out of him.

But that's hopeless. Jiang has known that for years, since before Proko orbited in so close to Kavinsky. Still--to find out this way that it was anything other than their eyes lingering?

Proko tries to whisper apologies every time he has enough air to talk, every time their mouths part just long enough to form words. He's pinned to the wall, breathless, and all he can feel and taste and smell and see is Jiang.

He's missed him so fucking much.

"Will," he breathes, tipping his head back. He feels dizzy with it.

"You? Are not talking right now."

Jiang keeps hold off Proko's wrist, and pulls him along, heading to Proko's room on autopilot. It's more put together now. It looks like someone lives there. Jiang doesn't think about Proko and Kav fucking in bed.

"Strip." He's adjusting himself inside his uniform pants, half hard from kissing. "And get on your knees."

Proko doesn't resist, nearly tripping up the stairs as Jiang hauls him along. He catches himself once they're in his room and he stares at Jiang for a second, nervous but--

But he trusts Jiang. He's trusted him with everything.

He wets his lips and pulls his shirt off. He hadn't put his binder on after his shower. It's easy to push his sweats off after that, and the shorts underneath it. Goosebumps appear and fade as he sinks to his his knees in front of Jiang.