Chapter Text
The first time Skov tries to hug Kavinsky, he almost gets stabbed. He probably shouldn’t have tried when they were in the kitchen, where K was close enough to grab the biggest and sharpest knife from the knife holder and point it at Skov’s face and threaten him with painful death if he ever tried that again.
Not that Skov was worried for his life. K threatened him with painful death at least three times a day, practically from the first time they met. At this point, Skov saw it as K’s love language.
Well, Skov’s love language was physical touch, and he was very much a hugger, so of course his solution to this problem was very simple.
“Babe, I love you, but that’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever come up with,” Swan announces when Skov presents him with his master plan.
Skov frowns at him. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m pretty sure I do, just like I’m sure that if you keep trying to hug K, you’re going to end up dead.”
Skov considers it. Swan might be onto something. K was prone to violence, and no matter how hard Skov tried, he had a hard time reading his mood sometimes, so the chance of pissing him off when he was having a bad day was quite high.
“Someone needs to get him accustomed to physical contact,” he still points out.
Swan sighs. “It’s your funeral.”
Skov rolls his eyes at him. “It’ll be fine.”
Despite that, he’s not actually suicidal enough to go and jump K at the first opportunity. Instead, he starts slow, figuring out they can work their way up to the hug.
Over the course of the next couple of weeks, he infiltrates K’s personal space. Casually. Nonchalantly. Surely, K suspects nothing.
He does little things, like pressing their shoulders together when they’re sitting next to each other on the couch or hooking his ankle over K’s when they’re stuck in class or bumping him with his hip when he needs to get him out of the way.
The first time it happens, K glares at him, but the second time, he doesn’t. Or maybe he does, but he has the sunglasses on (what a stupid offensive piece of accessory in Skov’s opinion), so Skov can’t see his eyes and decides he’s surely not glaring. Either way, he doesn’t threaten Skov with death, so Skov sees it as a massive win.
He’s about to gloat about this enormous success to Swan one evening when they’re getting ready for bed, when Swan, as if reading his mind, says, “Oh, by the way, K asked me what the fuck is wrong with you.”
So much for him being subtle. “Why?” He asks because there’s a solid chance this has nothing to do with it.
“I don’t know, apparently you’re always touching him now?”
Never-fucking-mind. Still, Skov smirks. “Are you jealous, baby?”
Swan gives him a flat look for that. “Do I need to be?”
Skov laughs and crawls over the bed to kiss him. “Of course not. It’s all part of the master plan.”
“Oh. You’re still on that?”
“Yep. And it’s working!”
“Is it? K asked me if there’s any way I could keep you on leash.”
Skov snorts. “That’s all? No death threats?”
“No,” Swan says reluctantly. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean he doesn’t want to kill you.”
True. But irrelevant. Skov will take his wins where he can get them. “I have a theory K wasn’t hugged enough as a kid.”
“Well, we know what’s his father like, so would that surprise you?”
Skov sighs and snuggles against Swan’s side. He’d like to believe K’s father only got this bad in recent years and that K had a normal childhood, but somehow he doesn’t think that’s the case. It would certainly explain K’s inability to talk about his emotions. Or at least admit he has any.
“You think his father ever hugged him?” Skov asks pensively.
“I don’t know. I mean, I don’t remember my father ever hugging me, and he’s nowhere near as bad as K’s.”
Sometimes Skov forgot Swan’s family sucked as well. Just because his father didn’t beat the crap out of him like K’s, didn’t mean he wasn’t a horrible human being. Skov genuinely hoped he’d never get to meet him, because he’d punch him for sure.
He takes Swan’s hand and squeezes it in reassurance. “True. Sorry.”
Swan shrugs. “It’s fine. My mom made up for it.”
Skov would rather not talk about Swan’s mom either. Maybe she loved Swan as a child, maybe she loves him still, but Skov is sure that the second she finds out Swan’s gay, she’s going to disown him. Swan probably knows it too, which is why he still keeps assuring her that he and Skov are just friends.
Speaking of horrible moms, Skov somehow doubts K’s mom was anything like Swan’s. K rarely talked about his family, but from the bits and pieces Skov has managed to gather, he knew the only thing his mother loved was drugs. It doesn’t sound like someone who’d hug their kid.
Jesus, if Skov was the first person to ever hug K, it’s no surprise he reacted the way he did.
…
The next time Skov is brave enough to try and hug K, they’re at a party. Skov has had a couple of drinks and is feeling a little reckless and prays that K is too tipsy to kill him or at least tipsy enough to be too slow, giving Skov some time to escape.
He finds K in the living room and makes sure K sees him approach, but when he gets close enough, he chickens out and ends up merely wrapping his arm around K’s shoulders.
K gives him an unimpressed look but doesn’t push him away; on the contrary almost leans against him, and okay, he’s more drunk than Skov anticipated.
“What are you looking at?” Skov asks, because the second K decides he’s not killing Skov, his attention is elsewhere, his eyes fixed on something on the other side of the room.
“Nothing,” K says, but doesn’t look away, and when Skov follows his gaze, he realises he’s watching Proko, talking to Jiang, the two of them laughing about something.
Skov smirks. He’s had a theory about this too, but he wasn’t absolutely sure, and it’s not like he could just ask K when he was sober. Now, however, was the perfect time. Hopefully.
“He looks pretty, right?” He asks casually.
“Yeah,” K agrees, then immediately realises what he said and shakes off Skov’s arm, frowning at him.
Skov can’t quite stop grinning. “You should tell him.” Proko has been in love with Kavinsky for as long as Skov can remember, so it’s not like he’d react badly if K finally told him he’s into him too.
K frowns even more. “Stop talking or I will make you.”
Okay, Skov needs a new master plan, this one consisting of K and Proko and K asking for Proko’s hand in marriage. No biggie.
For now, he merely pats K on the shoulder, doesn’t get his arm bitten off (another massive win in his opinion) and goes to find Swan.
Swan isn’t hard to find even in the mass of people, and Skov happily leans against him and announces, loud enough to be heard over the music, “I think K is in love with Proko.”
Swan laughs. “Are you drunk?”
“A little? What does it matter?”
“You’re talking nonsense.”
Skov rolls his eyes. Is he the only one seeing it? “You wanna bet on it?”
Swan raises an eyebrow at him. “For real?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Five hundred.”
“Where are you gonna get that kind of money after you inevitably lose?”
Skov waves his hand at him. The correct answer would be that he’d force K to pay it for him, duh. “I’m not gonna lose. K and Proko are gonna be dating by the end of the school year.”
“You’re being delusional and you’re gonna make me very rich.”
“You’re already stupidly rich,” Skov points out. “And you’re gonna eat those words.”
Swan laughs and kisses him, and Skov grins into the kiss, already thinking about what he’s gonna spend the money on.
…
The good thing about his master plan on how to get K and Proko together is that he mostly doesn’t really have to do anything. K and Proko circle each other unsurely, but consistently and for now, Skov is content with waiting them out.
There are small signs, like how the two of them always being together, sitting close to each other, sharing looks over food or movies, leaving the rest of the group to go for long drives or just smoking together on K’s porch.
That particular evening, they’re assembled in K’s living room, playing videogames, but Skov is more focused on the fact that K and Proko went to the kitchen to get more beer like half an hour ago and still haven’t returned. They’re talking there too quietly for him to hear, but they’re standing close, and K’s expression is soft and open for once, and Proko’s smiling, and Skov has a hard time not running up to them and yelling at them to kiss already.
Suddenly, Swan gets up and makes a move as if to go to the kitchen, and Skov practically has to tackle him to keep him in place.
“What the hell, babe?” Swan huffs where they’ve toppled over on the couch, Skov lying on top of him, refusing to let go.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
“I just wanted to get the beer. K and Proko are taking ages.”
“Yeah, ‘cause they’re having a moment. Let them be.”
Swan sighs. “Is this about the bet?”
Jiang watches them with a mix of amusement and confusion, but he perks up at Swan’s words. “What bet?”
Skov reluctantly climbs off Swan, but keeps holding onto his hand, just to be sure he doesn’t run off to the kitchen and also because he likes holding Swan’s hand.
“Skov thinks K and Proko will end up dating by the end of the school year,” Swan says and has enough sense to keep his voice down.
To Skov’s absolute delight, Jiang doesn’t laugh; instead tilts his head to the side, thinking about it. “I want in on it,” he announces after a moment.
Swan raises his eyebrows. “You think it’s possible?”
Now, Jiang does laugh. “That they’ll end up dating? No. That they’ll fuck by the end of the school year? Yeah.”
Skov knows he should be glad Jiang at least thinks they’re into each other, too, but he still frowns at him. “Come on, they’re so down for each other.”
Jiang shrugs. “Maybe, but there’s no way K would date him.”
“Why not?”
“Have you ever met K?”
That is a fair point. Skov seriously needs to work on his other master plan on how to get K to start talking about his feelings like a normal human being. “Still. He’s not stupid enough to let Proko go.”
Jiang sighs. “Actually, I think he’s exactly that stupid.”
Skov narrows his eyes on him, wondering if he also has to metaphorically tackle him so he won’t get in between K and Proko, then decides Jiang isn’t suicidal like that. Hopefully. He can always tackle him later.
“We will see.”
Swan rolls his eyes at him, but it’s fond. “Can I go get the beer now?”
Skov turns to look in the kitchen and sees that K and Proko are gone. “Where did they go?”
“Probably for a smoke. I’m getting the beer. You want anything?”
Skov shakes his head and slumps on the couch. He really should talk to K about this, but he also doesn’t feel like getting punched in the face. Maybe Proko will be a safer choice.
He patiently waits until everyone decides it’s time for bed, then corners Proko in his room.
“Do you need something?” Proko asks and yawns. Skov wonders if the T-shirt he’s wearing for bed is by any chance K’s. He’s almost sure he’s seen K wear it before.
“Yeah. Are you and K getting together anytime soon?”
Proko blinks at him in surprise. “What?”
Skov gives him a pointed look. “Don’t be so surprised. You’re both into each other, and it’s painfully obvious to everyone around you.”
Proko opens his mouth as if to argue, then sees Skov’s resolute face and closes it again with a sigh. “It’s complicated.”
“Obviously. It’s K, what would you expect?” Skov mumbles bitterly. He loves K, he really does, but he was the most difficult person he’s ever met. “You’ll have to make the first move.”
Proko doesn’t look impressed. “Why do you care?”
“What do you mean, why do I care? You’re my friend, K is my friend, and I want the two of you to be happy.”
Proko frowns at him. “You put money on us, haven’t you?”
“How can you say that?” Skov asks, totally scandalised.
Proko raises one eyebrow, unimpressed. He was way too smart for his own good. “How much?”
Skov sighs in defeat. “Five hundred.”
“Jesus, Skov.”
“It’s fine, because you will get together.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. You just have to make the first fucking move.”
Proko rolls his eyes at him. “I’m not gonna make a move on K just because you want to win the money.”
“No, obviously, you’re gonna make a move on him because you’re in love with him and he’s in love with you.”
“He’s not in love with me.”
“He totally is.”
“How do you know?”
“He looks at you like you’re the centre of his fucking universe.”
Proko frowns, more confusion than anger. “You really think so?”
“I really do.”
Proko thinks about it for a moment, then sighs. “You’re a horrible influence, and if this goes wrong, it will all be your fault.”
Skov grins victoriously. At least really Proko was smart.
…
It all seems to be going well until K and Proko suddenly start to ignore each other. It happens seemingly overnight. One day, they’re practically holding hands, and the next, they can barely stand to be in the same room together.
“Okay, what the fuck happened?” Skov hisses in an angry whisper during a chemistry class he has with Proko.
Proko doesn’t look up from his notes. “What do you think?” He replies bitterly. Skov patiently waits him out, which might’ve been the hardest thing he’s ever done, but a couple of minutes later, Proko gives up on the notes and turns to face Skov. “I kissed him.”
Skov makes a too-loud squeaky noise at that.
The teacher frowns at him.
“Dude,” Proko hisses, also frowning.
“Sorry, sorry. So, you kissed him and then what?”
Proko shrugs and carefully avoids his eyes.
“Come on, you can’t just drop this on me and then refuse to continue. Did he kiss you back?”
“Yeah,” Proko admits, and Skov has to put both of his hands over his mouth in order to stay quiet. Proko frowns at him again. “But now it’s really fucking weird. I don’t know. I feel like I fucked up.”
Skov can’t believe he’s friends with such idiots. “You didn’t fuck up,” he assures Proko. “K will come around.”
Proko makes a face at that. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do.” And he’s going to personally ensure it.
Proko gives him a tired look and goes back to his notes.
After school, Skov drives to K’s house and marches straight to K’s bedroom. He doesn’t bother with knocking, just opens the door and announces, “We’re going for a drive, come on.”
K’s lying on the bed, cigarette in one hand, phone in the other and doesn’t even look up at Skov’s arrival. “Fuck off.”
Skov climbs on the bed and, with no regard for K’s personal space, lies halfway on top of him.
K frowns at him. “Do you want to die?” He asks, but doesn’t actually do anything to push Skov off.
“No, I want to go for a drive.”
“I’m not in the mood.”
“I found a new road where we can race. Come on.”
K sighs. “You’re the most obnoxious person ever. Now get off.”
“Thanks,” Skov replies with a grin and obediently climbs down.
K doesn’t speak to him for the entire car ride. Skov gives him directions to the abandoned road, and when they arrive, lets K inspect it in silence.
“Not bad,” K concludes. “You sure no one uses it?”
Skov shrugs. “We haven’t seen any cars pass for like two hours when we were here with Swan.”
“What were you doing here for so long?”
Skov rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning. “Homework, what do you think?” He sneers.
“Ew.”
K gets out of the car to light another cigarette, and Skov joins him, wondering if K’s gonna leave him stranded here if he brings up Proko now.
“What happened with you and Proko?” He asks casually anyway, because he promised he’d get it sorted out, and he always keeps his word.
K frowns. “Nothing.”
“Why are you ignoring each other, then?”
“None of your fucking business.”
Skov knows he’s on thin ice but still pushes. “I know you kissed him,” he prompts.
“Skov, I swear to god, if you – What do you mean I kissed him? He kissed me!”
Skov grins. “But you kissed him back.”
K looks like he’s one move from killing both of them. “So what. I didn’t mean anything.” He angrily stomps on his half-finished cigarette, like it’s all its fault.
“Right.”
“We’re just friends.”
“Of course.”
“I will actually kill you.”
Skov laughs and gives him a moment of peace before speaking again. “So, you’re saying that if any of your other friends kissed you, you’d have the exact same reaction that you had with Proko? Because, you know, you’re just friends?”
“Yes, obviously,” K says with a frown, like he’s trying to figure out what the fuck is Skov getting at.
Skov doesn’t give him space to do that because K is smart, and if he wasn’t currently overthinking his kiss with Proko, he’d see exactly where this conversation is going. Instead, he grabs K’s face with both hands (silently thanking himself for getting K accustomed to him touching him all the time, so he doesn’t immediately get punched in the face) and kisses him.
It lasts a solid half a second before K wrenches away, grabs Skov by the neck and pushes him against the side of the Mitsu.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He snaps. His fingers are digging into the side of Skov’s neck, but he’s not quite strangling him yet, so Skov manages a smile and says, “Why didn’t you kiss me back, too? Are we not good enough friends?”
K’s grip on his neck tightens a fraction. “You’re dead.”
“Just admit you like Proko,” Skov retorts. It is getting progressively harder to breathe. He really should shut up.
“Fuck you.”
“I will kiss you again,” he threatens. K lets go of him at once and takes a cautious step back. Skov grins and jumps at him before K can run for it.
They end up tumbling down on the harsh asphalt, but Skov doesn’t care. K’s shouting at him something about getting the fuck off and trying to claw his way out of Skov’s arms but Skov holds onto him for his life.
“Let fucking go of me, you psycho!” K hisses and tries to push him away.
“Admit you like Proko!” Skov hisses back and bites K’s arm when he gets it too close to Skov’s face.
“Fuck off!”
“Admit it!”
“Fine!”
Well. Skov certainly didn’t expect K to give in so fast. He pauses, pulling away a little so he can look K in the eyes. “Fine?” He echoes in disbelief.
K is glaring at him so hard, Skov is surprised he hasn’t killed him with his look alone. “Yes, I fucking like him, okay? Are you happy now?” He finally manages to push Skov off and gets up, brushing away the dirt and gravel from his clothes and cursing. “Get back home on your fucking own,” he says and stomps to the car, leaving Skov lying in the middle of the road.
Skov watches him drive away and laughs.
Swan has to help him disinfect all the road rash he comes home with, refusing to explain himself, but he doesn’t stop smiling.
…
Kavinsky avoids him for several days afterwards, and when he absolutely has to be around him, he makes sure there’s always at least a couple of feet of space between them at all times, but Skov doesn’t mind.
It all pays off when he goes to get a glass of water before bed one night and hears K and Proko’s voices from the kitchen.
He knows he shouldn’t eavesdrop on them, that he’s already pissed K off enough, but he still tiptoes closer, but when he gets near enough to understand the words, there’s suddenly a silence.
He’s a little worried they might’ve heard him and stopped talking because of that, but when he peeks from where he’s hiding behind the corner, he can’t believe his fucking eyes. They’re standing by the kitchen counter, Proko arms around K’s neck and K’s hands in Proko’s hair, and they’re making out, and Skov once again has to put both of his hands in front of his mouth in order to keep quiet.
Despite the fact that he’d like to run up to them and hug them both, he smartly tiptoes back upstairs and lets them be.
“Where did you leave the water?” Swan asks him when he gets back to their bedroom empty-handed.
Skov completely forgot about the water. “I decided I don’t need it.”
Swan raises his eyebrows at him but doesn’t question it. Skov supposes that they’ve been together long enough for Swan to get used to Skov’s quirks.
In the morning, they’re sitting at the dining table, drinking coffee, while Skov tries to explain to Jiang that putting sugar in the coffee makes it way better, when K and Proko walk in.
They aren’t holding hands or anything, but they’re standing very close, and Proko is most definitely wearing K’s T-shirt, and he’s smiling, and K looks stupidly proud of himself.
The three of them watch them as they make their way to the kitchen, where Proko jumps up on the counter while K goes to make coffee. Proko says something, too quiet for them to hear, and K chuckles.
“Fucking shit, Skov was right, wasn’t he?” Jiang says without taking his eyes off them.
Skov grins. Of course he was fucking right.
Once K makes the coffee, the two of them join them in the dining room, and K frowns when he sees them watching them intently.
“What?”
“Did you finally get together?” Jiang asks, and Skov’s not sure if he’s brave or stupid, but he appreciates it either way.
K and Proko exchange looks, and Proko smiles a little, which seems like an answer enough, and Skov jumps up from his seat to hug Proko, and Proko laughs and hugs him back.
“You’ve made me so much money,” Skov whispers happily, and Proko laughs some more.
When Skov lets go of him and turns to K, K looks like he’s ready to throw his coffee in Skov’s face, but that has never stopped Skov before, so he carefully steps to him and puts his arms around him. K goes very still under his touch, and Skov is fully aware he hasn’t actually tried to hug him since the first disastrous time.
“I’m so proud of you,” Skov says, fully expecting K to try stabbing him again.
“I hate you so much,” K says in response, but very slowly pats Skov on the back, which doesn’t really count as hugging him back, but Skov will take his wins where he can get them and this definitely feels like a fucking win.