It wasn't like this was even the first, second, or third time something like this had happened. A pill (two?) in his mouth, a hand over it so he had to swallow, or let it dissolve. There wasn't any point in fighting it: Kavinsky was bigger than him, even if Proko fought dirty. He couldn't bite, so he kicked to make his point, shoved at Kavinsky but the pills were gone and all he had was K's voice in his ear.

Relax, Illy.

It came on like a command. Just a few seconds - K's shit always worked fast - and he made a soft noise, almost like a moan, against his palm. His hands gripped Kavinsky's shirt rather than trying to shove him off and for a second it was like his body couldn't keep up with what was happening: a rush of arousal and his limbs feeling kind of heavy all at once.

He mumbled something against Kavinksy's hand: it felt like fuck you.