(originally posted on tumblr.)

Domesticity

They go together like "an expensive box of truffles and dry-crust pizza", as Kai likes to say when he's in one of his talking moods, which happens quite often.

"Sometimes you're the second-rate pizza, but that's cool. I'll basically eat anything," he elaborates with an affectionate grin, thinking he's given her the best compliment in the world. It does imply an unconditional attachment, doesn't it?

Bonnie groans unimpressed, and pushes his face away from her, which almost makes him roll off the bed. But Kai is ever the persistent lover, and he hops back in, ready to persuade her he's actually the bard of romance.

She tries to put some distance between them sometimes because she's still not used to their living arrangements. The sex is fine and fun and adventurous (Kai really wants to catch up on all he's missed, including some questionable porn scenarios), but sleeping in the same bed, just lying there for hours next to a reformed psychopath makes her skin prickle and she has to walk it off or go sleep on the couch. Well, she makes him sleep on the couch nine times out of then.

They're working on it.

Right now, as she's reading her book, she feels herself edging away from him, until her side of the bed becomes one thin strip of sheet. And she hates that she has to remind herself it's safe. She hates him for having created this gap. She hates that he's no longer that person she can blame. But well, she must like him a little bit. Because she's not jumping out. She's staying in. Somehow, it's worth the risk.

Kai knows all of this. He doesn't try to pull her close against him. Doesn't try to reach out for her. He lets her do this, lets her take more time, more space. He feels eternal, like he can wait for centuries for her to get comfortable or at least moderately bored with him. Yes, he thinks boredom is probably just as good as adventure. Luke left one hell of a legacy inside of him. But perhaps one naturally develops patience and a taste for ennui after lengthy imprisonment. So Luke doesn't get credit for everything.

It's not about being patient, though. It's actually thrilling and it tickles him somewhere deep inside that Bonnie Bennett is fighting every urge that's telling her to flee. For him. She's doing it for him.

He watches her read and traces her heart-shaped head with his finger in the air.

"Stop that and do something," she mutters, kicking him softly with her foot.

"I am. Doing something. Or someone."

Bonnie yawns. "Well, your jokes are starting to get closer to 2002."

"2005 is where I draw the line. Current humor involves a slew of human feces and other um, unsavory fluids."

"Yuck. Reading over here."

"Hey, your generation, not mine."

"Kai. What did I say about letting me do my stuff?"

"Yeah, that's cool. I'm just gonna be here, creeping on you." He starts humming Every Breath You Take off-key.He even does the thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump at the beginning of the song. He moves his neck back and forth with each stupid sound he makes.

"So much for 2002…" she mutters, biting into her cheek to prevent any indication of amusement.

He starts tapping the rhythm of the tune against her sheet-covered thigh lightly, barely touching her.

Of course, Kai being Kai, he adds a bit of magic into his fingers and her muscles twitch because it feels like she's been mildly electrocuted.

"Jerk-face," she grits, swatting the book at him. He dodges easily and blocks her following hits with his elbow. He pulls up his pillow like a shield.

"You're lucky I'm tired," she says, after punching into the soft fabric one too many times.

"Hey, be grateful it was magic. What if I was tickling you?"

She remembers one night when he started doing that and he tickled her so hard right under the ribs where she was most sensitive, and she yelled so loudly and kicked his head so hard against the wall, he saw stars. They had to sit in the bathroom half the night, stitching him up. They ended up falling asleep in the bathtub. They woke up, naked and cold, tangled in each other's limbs. Kai had turned on the spray to warm them up, but the idiot forgot which one was the tap for cold water. Or maybe he didn't. He would do something like that on purpose. He laughed for a while, she muttered something along the lines "I hope you get cancer", he argued "We'll both get pneumonia" and then they were both silent.

His hand accidentally skimmed the scar above her stomach, the mark he'd left behind. She let him dwell there, didn't say anything to make him feel better, or make herself forget. The great thing was that they were insanely honest all the time, to the point where the people around them wondered how they could stand it. Yeah, it fucking hurt, but it seemed to fill them up with the right dosage of pain and reality. They didn't want this to be make-believe. If you feel good all the time, what's the point?

When they kissed, it wasn't because of the scar. They just felt like it. They kissed for a long time, until their skins turned wrinkly and paper-thin from the water. It was uncomfortable as hell. She was lying with her back against his chest and he had to angle her head over her shoulder, so that every muscle in her neck protested for him to let her go, but it was the right dosage. She stayed like that, head twisted towards him, mouth nipping softly at his lips, as the lukewarm water ran between their toes. One of his hands was in her hair, drawing the knots around his knuckles, the other was around a breast, cupping it in his palm like a small bird. They didn't do anything else. They couldn't sink their tongues in each other's mouths, because Bonnie couldn't twist her neck further. So they just kissed chastely, his stubble scratching her chin and her nose colliding against his teeth. It was bad and clumsy, but their hearts were beating wild and happy.

"Seriously, Kai, find an occupation," she says sternly, pushing the memory aside.

He chews on his lip seductively, in a way that makes him look more silly than sexy. She swallows a snort. If she gives anything away, he wins, so she stays mum. But the more he chews on his lip, the less silly it becomes. He gets this cloudy, sultry look in his eyes and he lies back down on his pillow and stares at his hands like they belong to a different body. He clenches his fists and looks up at the ceiling, struggling to keep still.

Bonnie realizes what's happening, two beats later.

She puts her book down.

It's kind of a paradox. She doesn't scoot over when he's being an obnoxious, harmless teenager. It's when the vengeful, bitter and worn-out forty-year old comes out to play that she inches forward, like metal to magnet.

It's not recklessness. It's not pity. It's just that Kai Parker is a thing in between; he's neither young nor old, neither good nor bad, neither living nor dead. So, to really be with him, you have to catch him in these transitional periods.

She doesn't want to miss a thing, as that horrible Aerosmith song he keeps quoting, goes. She should have never let him watch Armageddon.

Bonnie sinks into his arms, which cradle her like a vise, a torture device of the Middle Ages. She knows he's almost crushing her lungs, but the darker implications of his embrace reach her only faintly. Her head lands on his collarbone and her hair is spread on his chest, which is rising and falling dramatically. She run her fingers absently across his forearms. He laughs a stark laugh, kisses the top of her head and tries to keep on feeling like she's the most fucking precious thing on this planet. It's not hard to feel that. But it's not easy, either.

See, that's the thing. Bonnie has to fight the urge to flee. She has to fight the nightmares that tell her he is going to gut her like a fish. Whereas, he has to fight the urge to kill. He has to fight the dreams that tell him she is pliant and ready for destruction. They are a balanced mess.

If he ever hurts her again, he knows he'll go insane. Bonnie knows this too. She is doing this, offering herself to him when he is at his most dangerous, because that's how he'll keep sane. Tempt him, and watch him resist and if he does, it's fine, they get to share this bed one more night.

If he doesn't…

He closes his eyes and inhales the scent of her magic, runs his fingers through her hair, skims her cheek, cups her jaw. He lifts her head towards him.

"If I ever tell you to run, will you do it?"

Bonnie doesn't even blink. She speaks quickly. "Yes."

"Good. And if I chase you down?"

"I take you out with Expression."

"That's right. And if I don't stop?"

"I find a way. No matter what."

Kai nods his head gravely in relief. Bonnie feels time is standing still as she smooths his brow, but actually, it's getting really late. They're always late. And he leans into her touch, but grips her jaw too tightly.

"If you don't find a way, I'll take myself out. I have enough power," he states simply. They've had this talk so many times, but it never feels forced.

And he always says this towards the end; he always says he'll kill himself for her and it should sound like cliched nonsense, like a dumb confession a college grad would make after one too many beers, but since it's coming from the guy who spent twenty years locked in his own youth, grinding away at his adulthood with a chainsaw and a bloody grin, she knows it's the closest he'll ever come to "I love you".

Because Kai wants to live the years he's lost. That's his future: the past he never got to endure. Snuffing himself out would be like admitting all that time in prison never mattered. And he'd do it just for her, just right now, late at night, in a hypothetical scenario that doesn't seem so hypothetical sometimes.

If they ever came to it, they might take each other out at the same time. Their magics are so volatile, so unpredictable, they would make quite a spectacle.

We'd end up like Romeo and Juliet. She gags on her own thoughts. Maybe not. Romeo and Juliet weren't into power plays. They didn't manipulate each other with affection, they didn't crave to burn themselves, only to ignite again and start all over. She feels like she's always on the edge with him, but she's the one pulling him there.

"Are you finished?" she asks, cocking an eyebrow. "Cuz I'm bored."

Kai mulls over her words. He eventually finds an adequate reply.

"Hi, bored. I'm Kai."

Bonnie sighs and leans her head back on his chest.

"Of course you discovered "dad jokes"."

They fall asleep on each other again. She's sprawled atop him, pinning him down like an anchor, and he holds onto her like a child gripping his blanket. He cups one breast like a small bird. Another hand is tangled in her hair. He could snap her neck from this position easily. He could smother her with his pillow. He could break a lot of bones. Instead, he snuggles his nose against her cheek, their mouths meeting somewhere between dream and reality.