[Adam's car had died over the weekend, having made it through the end of the school semester mostly on his boyfriend's stubbornness, and possibly aided by a few of Ronan's prayers on the matter. But Graduation was on Friday, and Adam had work, and while Ronan could give him just about anything he wanted, that was the difficult part: he wasn't sure that Adam would want it even if he offered. And it would definitely be a fight if he offered and he didn't; so he let him go outside alone to do battle with the vehicle that had carried him through senior year.
Ronan liked having Adam at the Barns, but it was a double-edged pleasure: he liked it too much. And so being the miserable sort of creature that he was, it was difficult to not think about the inevitability of losing it. Adam had college in the fall, a path to a diploma on his wall, a world that Ronan didn't know how to fit himself into. He could see his future loneliness as surely as he could hear it in how Gansey, Blue and Henry talked about their summer roadtrip. He knows that he could go with them if he wanted, but he's as sure he'd ruin it for them as he is that he doesn't want to leave Adam when there's a chance for even one day together.
Not to mention that Gansey's offer had felt like he was just an afterthought, which was almost as intolerable as Gansey leaving in the first place.
He checked on Adam after a little over an hour- both for his own nerves, and because he wanted him to know that he cared. He wasn't good at the words, but he felt these things with an intensity that all but destroyed him. Even if it was a stupid shitcan car and Ronan thought he deserved better, it mattered because it mattered to Adam. So he brought him some iced tea, and a bottle of water- the one Ronan used to bring with him back when he'd had tennis. He let Opal carry the water bottle, though she quickly wandered off after setting it down in the golden grass, tramping through the fields in her muckboots that had once belonged to Matthew.
Ronan on the other hand, took a moment just to appreciate the view- because Adam Parrish leaning into the exposed engine compartment of the Hondayota under the summer sun was the sort of thing that Ronan's fantasies were made of. So when he opened his mouth, he teased him a little to cover how affected he was. But as he handed over the glass, wordlessly urging him to take a break for just a little while, Ronan lightly bumped his shoulder into Adam's, and he leaned into his side like that for a long minute.
If he lets his mind wander, he'll think of another boy and another late summer afternoon. The fact that the Forth of July was only recently in the rearview doesn't help; it still clings to Ronan in a way he never tells anyone about. Not just on his skin, but with hooks that dig down to the marrow of his bones- even to his dreams.
Before he leaves, he shifts to hug him, and Adam laughs, says he needs a shower first, and Ronan says he doesn't care, wrapping him in his arms and sliding his hands up against his back. The other boy is damp with sweat, but all Ronan cares about is the contact, the fact of their chests pressed skin to skin, and Ronan half thinks Adam can feel his racing heartbeat. He kisses him: once, twice, thrice. Sweet and lingering, but bleeding with longing he can't help. He tucks his face into his shoulder for just a breath, just long enough for Ronan to pull himself together.
He's not selfish enough to tell Adam that he wants to keep him. But he does, he does. Fuck.
Instead he smiles, cupping Adam's face in his other hand as he looks into his eyes. He doesn't say anything, but there's something to the silence, like there would be words there if it was someone that wasn't Ronan Lynch. Instead, his smile turns a little bit filthy, more a smirk than a smile, a flash of teeth against his lips.]
When you're finished, you can take that shower and.. I'll help you relax.
[Most people might not have guessed it, but he was actually a little bit shy when it came to talking about sex. Not that he couldn't voice that he wanted it, but putting words to the specific acts and body parts always made his skin flush. It was a bit too real, the sort of thing that got glossed over in dreams and fantasies. So it was usually like this -- a look, a smile, a certain weight to how he said relax.
And then he walked away, telling Adam to send Opal inside if she got in his way. He stood on the porch for long minutes, just watching the dusty-blond of Adam's hair and the pale skin of his shoulders. It made him ache, made him want to hit something or scream without really knowing the reason why. Instead, he busied himself with fixing the hinges to one of the cabinets in the kitchen.
Adam came inside just after sunset, Ronan having just flopped onto the couch a little bit before, and it was not the easy thing that he had been hoping for. His eyes were dark and downcast, his shoulders tense, and it seemed like Ronan's own storm clouds followed on his heels. Ronan didn't ask what the diagnosis was, because Adam's mood told him all that he needed to know. Whatever was wrong with the Hondayota, it was fatal- at least in the temporary. A part that needed to be ordered and that Boyd's would not get in soon enough, something that had to be rebuilt. It was not something that even Adam Parrish could fix with determination and elbow grease.
He says he's going to take a shower, and Ronan lets him. He doesn't follow him, even if he wants to. He wants to kiss him from his lips to his thighs, wants to use his mouth for something better than words and pull the tension and frustration from his body. Instead, he turns on the oven and heats up a frozen pepperoni pizza -- it's not Ninos, but Ronan usually keeps a couple around for emergencies. Ronan doesn't really cook, but he has enough money that it's rarely a problem.
He sends Opal outside with a jar to catch fireflies, mostly to keep her out from underfoot when Ronan's already a mess.
It's admittedly a far cry from a homecooked dinner, but it was Ronan making an effort when he clearly didn't know what else to do. Trying to attack the problem directly felt like a sure path to making things worse, and he really didn't want to have to drive Adam back to St. Agnes or try to talk him out of trying to fucking walk. This at least felt less treacherous, even if it's just pizza. He sets out a chilled bottle of coke for Adam and a beer for himself, and there's ice cream in the freezer.
Normally he'd have just ordered takeout, but this was something to do, and it was something that he could do for Adam, even if it wasn't what he wanted to do. But unlike Gansey, Ronan had learned. Where the lines were, what he could get away with. And the fact that he did respect Adam's wishes seemed to make those lines a little more forgiving.
Case in point: the phone Ronan had gotten him for his birthday.
When Adam emerges, freshly showered and dressed, Ronan sort of wants to forget all about dinner and take his boyfriend's clothes off all over again. But instead he just sets the jar of fireflies on the table and dims the overhead lights a little bit. It's not really romantic, but it's-- something.
Ronan holds a hand out in invitation, and Adam takes it, and Ronan can feel his heartbeat calm into something almost normal. The other boy teases him about eating at the table- usually it's side by side on the couch, with plates and takeout containers on the coffee table. Ronan says it's just an excuse to look at him, and he isn't quite sure which of them is more flustered by the words.
They eat their pizza and they look at each other, and somewhere between the shower and dinner, Adam seems to have put Ronan's stormclouds back outside where they belonged.
Adam washes the dishes from dinner, and Ronan snags the ice cream from the freezer, adding some chocolate syrup and a bit of whipped cream just to dress it up a bit. One bowl, two spoons. He's licking some remnants of the chocolate from his fingers, cuddled up with his boyfriend when Adam finally tells him about the car. That it'll take a week at least, before he can have it up and running, and he has work and Graduation. Ronan's quiet for a moment at first; not because he doesn't care.
But this feels different than their usual pattern of pushing the difficult things out of sight. It feels like changing something, like Adam is trying. Like he's reaching or asking, and if he's doing the hard part, Ronan isn't so selfish that he wont meet him halfway. They've always soothed the hurts with hands and bodies because neither of them really seems to know how to say the words.
Or maybe it's just Ronan.
The other part is that he recognizes that this is Adam making space for him, allowing him to offer to help. Maybe he's not asking for it directly, but Ronan can feel that he needs something. Or more accurately, that Adam is allowing him to know that he needs something. And he knows that it's hard: Adam who has had so few people care about what he needs, so few people willing to offer it to him without strings. So he takes a breath and hopes he says the right thing.]
You can take the BMW, if you want to. Not like I've got anywhere particular to be.
[He doesn't even bring up his feelings about Aglionby or the graduation ceremony. He'd go if Adam asked him to, but he hadn't, and so Ronan had taken that as that whatever Adam needed from it was not something that hinged on Ronan's presence. He doesn't know how to talk about his feelings about it -- that he'd watched Gansey die and now he was going through the motions of a normal life, and Ronan still had nightmares. Adam also wasn't the only boy that Ronan loved that should have been in a gown, accepting his diploma with a handshake and a smile. Kavinsky probably would have had a smirk, worn his sunglasses onto the stage with the Headmaster. But he wasn't going to be there on Friday, just like he hasn't been there for all of Senior Year.
Of course Ronan had dropped out. What was there that tied him to Aglionby except misery? He drops his head onto Adam's shoulder like he doesn't quite trust his words to be right- or enough.]
speaking with words;
Ronan liked having Adam at the Barns, but it was a double-edged pleasure: he liked it too much. And so being the miserable sort of creature that he was, it was difficult to not think about the inevitability of losing it. Adam had college in the fall, a path to a diploma on his wall, a world that Ronan didn't know how to fit himself into. He could see his future loneliness as surely as he could hear it in how Gansey, Blue and Henry talked about their summer roadtrip. He knows that he could go with them if he wanted, but he's as sure he'd ruin it for them as he is that he doesn't want to leave Adam when there's a chance for even one day together.
Not to mention that Gansey's offer had felt like he was just an afterthought, which was almost as intolerable as Gansey leaving in the first place.
He checked on Adam after a little over an hour- both for his own nerves, and because he wanted him to know that he cared. He wasn't good at the words, but he felt these things with an intensity that all but destroyed him. Even if it was a stupid shitcan car and Ronan thought he deserved better, it mattered because it mattered to Adam. So he brought him some iced tea, and a bottle of water- the one Ronan used to bring with him back when he'd had tennis. He let Opal carry the water bottle, though she quickly wandered off after setting it down in the golden grass, tramping through the fields in her muckboots that had once belonged to Matthew.
Ronan on the other hand, took a moment just to appreciate the view- because Adam Parrish leaning into the exposed engine compartment of the Hondayota under the summer sun was the sort of thing that Ronan's fantasies were made of. So when he opened his mouth, he teased him a little to cover how affected he was. But as he handed over the glass, wordlessly urging him to take a break for just a little while, Ronan lightly bumped his shoulder into Adam's, and he leaned into his side like that for a long minute.
If he lets his mind wander, he'll think of another boy and another late summer afternoon. The fact that the Forth of July was only recently in the rearview doesn't help; it still clings to Ronan in a way he never tells anyone about. Not just on his skin, but with hooks that dig down to the marrow of his bones- even to his dreams.
Before he leaves, he shifts to hug him, and Adam laughs, says he needs a shower first, and Ronan says he doesn't care, wrapping him in his arms and sliding his hands up against his back. The other boy is damp with sweat, but all Ronan cares about is the contact, the fact of their chests pressed skin to skin, and Ronan half thinks Adam can feel his racing heartbeat. He kisses him: once, twice, thrice. Sweet and lingering, but bleeding with longing he can't help. He tucks his face into his shoulder for just a breath, just long enough for Ronan to pull himself together.
He's not selfish enough to tell Adam that he wants to keep him. But he does, he does. Fuck.
Instead he smiles, cupping Adam's face in his other hand as he looks into his eyes. He doesn't say anything, but there's something to the silence, like there would be words there if it was someone that wasn't Ronan Lynch. Instead, his smile turns a little bit filthy, more a smirk than a smile, a flash of teeth against his lips.]
When you're finished, you can take that shower and.. I'll help you relax.
[Most people might not have guessed it, but he was actually a little bit shy when it came to talking about sex. Not that he couldn't voice that he wanted it, but putting words to the specific acts and body parts always made his skin flush. It was a bit too real, the sort of thing that got glossed over in dreams and fantasies. So it was usually like this -- a look, a smile, a certain weight to how he said relax.
And then he walked away, telling Adam to send Opal inside if she got in his way. He stood on the porch for long minutes, just watching the dusty-blond of Adam's hair and the pale skin of his shoulders. It made him ache, made him want to hit something or scream without really knowing the reason why. Instead, he busied himself with fixing the hinges to one of the cabinets in the kitchen.
Adam came inside just after sunset, Ronan having just flopped onto the couch a little bit before, and it was not the easy thing that he had been hoping for. His eyes were dark and downcast, his shoulders tense, and it seemed like Ronan's own storm clouds followed on his heels. Ronan didn't ask what the diagnosis was, because Adam's mood told him all that he needed to know. Whatever was wrong with the Hondayota, it was fatal- at least in the temporary. A part that needed to be ordered and that Boyd's would not get in soon enough, something that had to be rebuilt. It was not something that even Adam Parrish could fix with determination and elbow grease.
He says he's going to take a shower, and Ronan lets him. He doesn't follow him, even if he wants to. He wants to kiss him from his lips to his thighs, wants to use his mouth for something better than words and pull the tension and frustration from his body. Instead, he turns on the oven and heats up a frozen pepperoni pizza -- it's not Ninos, but Ronan usually keeps a couple around for emergencies. Ronan doesn't really cook, but he has enough money that it's rarely a problem.
He sends Opal outside with a jar to catch fireflies, mostly to keep her out from underfoot when Ronan's already a mess.
It's admittedly a far cry from a homecooked dinner, but it was Ronan making an effort when he clearly didn't know what else to do. Trying to attack the problem directly felt like a sure path to making things worse, and he really didn't want to have to drive Adam back to St. Agnes or try to talk him out of trying to fucking walk. This at least felt less treacherous, even if it's just pizza. He sets out a chilled bottle of coke for Adam and a beer for himself, and there's ice cream in the freezer.
Normally he'd have just ordered takeout, but this was something to do, and it was something that he could do for Adam, even if it wasn't what he wanted to do. But unlike Gansey, Ronan had learned. Where the lines were, what he could get away with. And the fact that he did respect Adam's wishes seemed to make those lines a little more forgiving.
Case in point: the phone Ronan had gotten him for his birthday.
When Adam emerges, freshly showered and dressed, Ronan sort of wants to forget all about dinner and take his boyfriend's clothes off all over again. But instead he just sets the jar of fireflies on the table and dims the overhead lights a little bit. It's not really romantic, but it's-- something.
Ronan holds a hand out in invitation, and Adam takes it, and Ronan can feel his heartbeat calm into something almost normal. The other boy teases him about eating at the table- usually it's side by side on the couch, with plates and takeout containers on the coffee table. Ronan says it's just an excuse to look at him, and he isn't quite sure which of them is more flustered by the words.
They eat their pizza and they look at each other, and somewhere between the shower and dinner, Adam seems to have put Ronan's stormclouds back outside where they belonged.
Adam washes the dishes from dinner, and Ronan snags the ice cream from the freezer, adding some chocolate syrup and a bit of whipped cream just to dress it up a bit. One bowl, two spoons. He's licking some remnants of the chocolate from his fingers, cuddled up with his boyfriend when Adam finally tells him about the car. That it'll take a week at least, before he can have it up and running, and he has work and Graduation. Ronan's quiet for a moment at first; not because he doesn't care.
But this feels different than their usual pattern of pushing the difficult things out of sight. It feels like changing something, like Adam is trying. Like he's reaching or asking, and if he's doing the hard part, Ronan isn't so selfish that he wont meet him halfway. They've always soothed the hurts with hands and bodies because neither of them really seems to know how to say the words.
Or maybe it's just Ronan.
The other part is that he recognizes that this is Adam making space for him, allowing him to offer to help. Maybe he's not asking for it directly, but Ronan can feel that he needs something. Or more accurately, that Adam is allowing him to know that he needs something. And he knows that it's hard: Adam who has had so few people care about what he needs, so few people willing to offer it to him without strings. So he takes a breath and hopes he says the right thing.]
You can take the BMW, if you want to. Not like I've got anywhere particular to be.
[He doesn't even bring up his feelings about Aglionby or the graduation ceremony. He'd go if Adam asked him to, but he hadn't, and so Ronan had taken that as that whatever Adam needed from it was not something that hinged on Ronan's presence. He doesn't know how to talk about his feelings about it -- that he'd watched Gansey die and now he was going through the motions of a normal life, and Ronan still had nightmares. Adam also wasn't the only boy that Ronan loved that should have been in a gown, accepting his diploma with a handshake and a smile. Kavinsky probably would have had a smirk, worn his sunglasses onto the stage with the Headmaster. But he wasn't going to be there on Friday, just like he hasn't been there for all of Senior Year.
Of course Ronan had dropped out. What was there that tied him to Aglionby except misery? He drops his head onto Adam's shoulder like he doesn't quite trust his words to be right- or enough.]