His singular experience in this regard was the way that Kavinsky had approached him. And even if it would have worked if he hadn't had his head up his ass- he didn't think that Adam was so easy. So to say that Ronan had no idea what the fuck he was doing was honestly an understatement.
But he'd fucked it up with Kavinsky by flinching from it, ruined him in the worst ways. So even if he didn't deserve to get what he wanted, he felt like he had to try. The alternative was worse.
First attempt had been the Barns. It hadn't been-- it wasn't a date, or at least not a proper one. But it was the two of them, alone together. It was a space where he at least more or less felt safe trying to express his attraction. He wanted.. he didn't fucking know what he wanted anymore. But he wanted to hold Adam's hand. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted more when it was late night and he closed his eyes. But it felt like.. this already seemed like stealing from the world itself. So he was trying, clueless as he was.
The second attempt was tonight.
At the Barns-- he'd had an excuse, a proper one. This was almost a lie, because he'd turned up asking for help with his homework, for lack of a better idea. He'd figured that Adam at least wouldn't turn him away for fear of stifling even vague inclinations toward good behavior. He probably could have just asked; just told Adam that he wanted to spend time with him, but that seemed terrifyingly direct.
He hadn't lied outright though: everything he said was technically true, and even somewhat believable. Gansey did still tie himself in knots over Ronan's grades, and every so often Gansey's displeasure was known to move even Ronan Lynch to attempts at scholastic achievement, like the alignment of celestial bodies.
So he he was here, on the floor of Adam's apartment, leaning back against the side of the other boy's bed. There was a strange sort of intimacy to it, and it left his stomach in knots, heated his skin as he watched Adam with his sharp blue eyes. He was a mess, but he thought that was okay. Luckily Adam hasn't picked up on the fact that Ronan is crushing on him fervently, which gives him the luxury of figuring this shit out on his own. And the occasional ploy such as this one.
Of course, Ronan hasn't really gotten much done in the way of homework, and every time their eyes meet, he thinks that he's sold himself out. He feels like he's in over his head, but when has Ronan allowed that to stop him before? So he's- still here. Textbook in his lap, and his pencil tapping against the paper. But it's not where his focus is. Instead his focus finds its way to the freckles that dust the bridge of the other boy's nose, the line of his throat and the way his blue eyes look under his pale lashes.
He's a fucking mess. But he tells himself that leaving would seem more suspicious- bolting when he'd scarcely gotten settled on the floor almost promised questions later. And unlike Gansey, Adam wasn't afraid to push him a little, to tell him he was being an asshole. Which meant that his discomfort wouldn't actually prevent Parrish from getting answers the next day, if he wanted them. His heart is a ruin, racing in his chest in fits and starts, and every time Adam almost catches him watching, he fucking forgets how to breathe.
Ronan's just a tangle of yearning, and he doesn't know what the fuck he's suppose to do with it.
But so far it's dragged him semi-willingly through three trig problems. So maybe when this all crashes and burns that'll at least buy him some goodwill.]
yells about pynch things aka ronan is a mess
His singular experience in this regard was the way that Kavinsky had approached him. And even if it would have worked if he hadn't had his head up his ass- he didn't think that Adam was so easy. So to say that Ronan had no idea what the fuck he was doing was honestly an understatement.
But he'd fucked it up with Kavinsky by flinching from it, ruined him in the worst ways. So even if he didn't deserve to get what he wanted, he felt like he had to try. The alternative was worse.
First attempt had been the Barns. It hadn't been-- it wasn't a date, or at least not a proper one. But it was the two of them, alone together. It was a space where he at least more or less felt safe trying to express his attraction. He wanted.. he didn't fucking know what he wanted anymore. But he wanted to hold Adam's hand. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted more when it was late night and he closed his eyes. But it felt like.. this already seemed like stealing from the world itself. So he was trying, clueless as he was.
The second attempt was tonight.
At the Barns-- he'd had an excuse, a proper one. This was almost a lie, because he'd turned up asking for help with his homework, for lack of a better idea. He'd figured that Adam at least wouldn't turn him away for fear of stifling even vague inclinations toward good behavior. He probably could have just asked; just told Adam that he wanted to spend time with him, but that seemed terrifyingly direct.
He hadn't lied outright though: everything he said was technically true, and even somewhat believable. Gansey did still tie himself in knots over Ronan's grades, and every so often Gansey's displeasure was known to move even Ronan Lynch to attempts at scholastic achievement, like the alignment of celestial bodies.
So he he was here, on the floor of Adam's apartment, leaning back against the side of the other boy's bed. There was a strange sort of intimacy to it, and it left his stomach in knots, heated his skin as he watched Adam with his sharp blue eyes. He was a mess, but he thought that was okay. Luckily Adam hasn't picked up on the fact that Ronan is crushing on him fervently, which gives him the luxury of figuring this shit out on his own. And the occasional ploy such as this one.
Of course, Ronan hasn't really gotten much done in the way of homework, and every time their eyes meet, he thinks that he's sold himself out. He feels like he's in over his head, but when has Ronan allowed that to stop him before? So he's- still here. Textbook in his lap, and his pencil tapping against the paper. But it's not where his focus is. Instead his focus finds its way to the freckles that dust the bridge of the other boy's nose, the line of his throat and the way his blue eyes look under his pale lashes.
He's a fucking mess. But he tells himself that leaving would seem more suspicious- bolting when he'd scarcely gotten settled on the floor almost promised questions later. And unlike Gansey, Adam wasn't afraid to push him a little, to tell him he was being an asshole. Which meant that his discomfort wouldn't actually prevent Parrish from getting answers the next day, if he wanted them. His heart is a ruin, racing in his chest in fits and starts, and every time Adam almost catches him watching, he fucking forgets how to breathe.
Ronan's just a tangle of yearning, and he doesn't know what the fuck he's suppose to do with it.
But so far it's dragged him semi-willingly through three trig problems. So maybe when this all crashes and burns that'll at least buy him some goodwill.]