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Adam thinks about it a lot, the kissing. At school, at work, when he should be doing his reading, before he goes to sleep. Mostly because it's hard to think about anything at all while it's actually happening.
Nothing's changed, really; they still do the same things they've always done. Only now there's a lot more making out where there used to be silence or arguing. Only it's more like it fills up the gaps between the arguing and the silence.
They don't hold hands while walking to class or play footsy under the table at Nino's. It just happens sometimes: after Adam accomplishes the almost insurmountable task of getting him to finish his homework, or when Adam goes along with whatever life-threatening stunt he's planned for the day, or when Ronan invites himself along to tend to Cabeswater (which involves twice as much complaining as actual helping), or when they get bored of staring at cows that won't wake the fuck up. Sometimes Ronan drives them out into the middle of nowhere after school and they just park by the side of some dirt road, and it's not romantic in the slightest, but Adam's heart is always beating three times faster than usual.
Sometimes, he falls asleep on the drive back to town, hand still tangled up with Ronan's. If he's smiling like a moron throughout most of his shift at the garage, then no one has to know.
It should be weird, how easily it happened, almost by accident. But it makes sense, for them, in some way. Maybe it's all been an accident: finding each other, fitting into each other's lives, starting to feel whatever it is he feels for him. He thinks maybe it never could've happened any other way.
*
The first time was about two months ago, as winter was coming to a close, when Ronan showed up with pizza and they took turns racing cars on Ronan's phone long after the last slice was gone.
Adam should've been exhausted but he was disappointed when Ronan said he was going to go a little after midnight.
"You can stay. I mean —" It was the first time he'd ever offered; he felt his cheeks burn as he considered the implications of that.
"Nah, it's okay. I don't want to get in your way."
Adam walked him down for the first time, too, pausing in the doorway awkwardly as Ronan turned back to look at him.
It wasn't a date or anything; there wasn't any reason to be nervous. It wasn't any different from dozens of other nights just like that one.
Only then Ronan curled his fingers around his wrist and kissed him, on the mouth, brief and warm and sweet.
His eyes were still closed, but he felt Ronan's hand brush some of his hair back, gently, reverently, and then it was gone.
Then he said, "Goodnight," soft and low, and disappeared into the night, like a shadow, before Adam could say anything at all.
Maybe he hadn't meant to do it (but Ronan doesn't do anything he doesn't mean); maybe he'd imagined it (but he could still feel the ghost of his fingers and his lips on his skin).
Adam just stood there, staring out into the dark long after he'd driven away, until he finally registered the cold air clawing at his exposed face and hands.
It wasn't a dream, he told himself, it wasn't a dream, as he let himself fall asleep.
(The second time, there was no doubt at all. Pressing him against the solid, wooden side of a barn in the pale spring light, kissing hot and wet and lingering, everything around them a witness: the bright, young leaves and returning birds and huge, cloudless sky.)
*
Ronan's on top of him. Ronan's on top of him and he's not wearing a shirt, and he smells really good and he feels really good. Only Adam's not entirely sure how they got here.
So, maybe they haven't talked about this yet. But then Ronan's hand is under his shirt and is skimming the waistband of his jeans and then he's unbuttoning them, without breaking the kiss, and Adam stops breathing.
Ronan pulls away then, and says, voice rough, "This okay?"
Adam just nods vigorously, because he wants this, God, he really wants this, even if his brain can't stop freaking out.
Ronan kisses him again, but slower now, and then his fingers are dipping inside his underwear and moving dangerously low.
And maybe he kind of freezes and maybe Ronan senses that and does this thing with his tongue that short-circuits his brain for a second and he's definitely not thinking right now, at least not about anything besides how much he wants Ronan's hands on him, and he's finally relaxed and mumbling happy nonsense against his mouth and then it comes out.
Ronan pulls away again and just stares at him like he's admitted to some heinous crime against fluffy, baby animals.
"Oh, god, just forget — forget I said that," Adam says, screwing up his face, hands over his eyes. He wants to die. He wants to die right now, even if that means he won't ever get to have sex with Ronan.
"No, say it again." Adam knows he's trying to keep a straight face. He also knows Ronan's a stubborn bastard who'll refuse to touch him again until he's complied. (And he's a teenage boy who can't afford to take that many cold showers, okay?)
Adam closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and then says it as softly and breathily as he can manage. "Oh, babe."
Ronan stares at him again and then bursts into laughter.
Adam punches him hard in the shoulder.
"You're such an asshole."
"But am I your asshole, babe?"
Adam flips them over and covers his mouth with his own, deciding it's time for some payback.
*
"I have the evening off tomorrow. Wanna do something?" He's been rehearsing it in his head for the last twenty minutes; he thinks it comes off as casual as it could've been.
Ronan barely looks up from the essay he's actually writing on Adam's bed. "Yeah, okay. Like what?"
Adam turns in his chair to look at him. "I don't know. We could go see a movie, maybe." He's definitely losing that cool tone now, and Ronan notices.
"You want to?" he says, looking up now, with a raised eyebrow.
"I just — We've been doing — this, for a while, yeah?" Yeah, all his cool has basically been thrown out the window.
"This?" Ronan says, amused, dropping his pen and sitting up, just watching him.
"Yeah," he says, lamely. "This."
"Thought you were more eloquent than that, Parrish."
"Shut up."
"So, are you asking me on a date?" Ronan says, voice and eyes actually serious now, even if there's still a slight quirk to his lips.
"I don't know. Maybe. I mean, it's been good, the — you know, the kissing. And the other stuff. But —"
Ronan's just smiling at him.
"What?" Adam says, a sinking feeling in his stomach, wondering if maybe this was a huge mistake and he's fucked it all up.
Ronan gets to his feet, and comes over to him, rests one hand on the back of his chair and kisses the frown lines off of his forehead.
"Yeah, okay," he tells him. "Whatever you want."
*
They sneak into the worst romance film of all time and almost get thrown out for mocking it loudly and obnoxiously.
"I thought that one guy was gonna climb over the seats and punch you," Adam tells him, in the parking lot after, making their way to the BMW.
"He's just a really big Nicholas Sparks fan," Ronan says, seriously, and they both dissolve into giggles.
"I can't believe someone actually spent millions of dollars to make that movie," Adam says, when they've stopped laughing.
"Good thing we didn't pay to see it," Ronan says with a smirk.
Ronan reaches out and links their hands together without looking at him. Adam feels something swoop pleasantly in his stomach and it's hard to hide his smile. His hand's cool, in contrast to the air around them; it's the first moderately warm night they've had for the year. It's their first real date. He's remembering the night months ago when Ronan kissed him on the threshold of St. Agnes, the warm press of his body against Adam's, like a taste of the coming summer as winter was just breaking.
It all changed, back then, whether he knew it or not. Whether it really seemed to or not.
Ronan doesn't let go of his hand or unlock his car.
He just looks at him for a moment, a tender look in his eyes, like he's feeling it too, like he always has been.
Ronan kisses him against the BMW, one hand on his hip, one tipping his face up to catch every tiny noise he makes with his mouth.
He tastes like butter and Coke and Ronan and home and the fresh country night air. Adam fists his hands into his jacket and hauls him closer. He doesn't ever want to let go.
There are other people walking to their cars but it's too dark for them to be recognised; they're just silhouettes, just strangers, just two people on their first date or their fiftieth.
Ronan finally pulls away, and Adam reluctantly releases his hold on his jacket.
"Wanna go home and watch giant robots destroy things?" he says quietly, right against his working ear.
"Okay," Adam tells him, smiling.
*
Adam falls asleep on his shoulder halfway through the movie.
When he wakes up, Ronan's actually still asleep, with Adam's arm tossed over his waist, his cheek pressed to Ronan's heart, and he just lies awake feeling his chest rising and falling for a long time.
He thinks it's the first time they've woken up like this, together, in his bed, breathing in sync like they're the same creature. He could get used to it.
Adam drags him out of bed and kisses him good morning in the shower and Ronan makes them coffee and plays soft, acoustic music on his phone while they eat and get dressed and kisses him again in the car before they meet Gansey on the sidewalk outside Aglionby.
*
"I was thinking," Ronan says. He's sitting on the ground against a tree stump instead of helping, typically. Adam would be annoyed but it's his own fault, probably. It doesn't really matter what they're doing these days, as long as he's doing it with Ronan. It's the kind of trite, sentimental thought he should save for when they're having one of their gross-out wars. Even if it's entirely too truthful.
Adam places the rock in his hand where he knows it should be, dusts his hands off and walks over to Ronan.
"About what?" he says, feeling nervous inexplicably. Ronan wouldn't go out with him, sleep all night with him in his bed, and then drive him all the way out here just to end it, right?
"Maybe we should tell Gansey."
Adam didn't expect that. Maybe the other thing would've been better.
"Why?"
"I don't know. Just — maybe it's time."
Adam sighs, and sits next to him, knees pulled up to his chest.
He wishes he could just say, I want to keep you all to myself forever, because it's the truth, as selfish as it is.
"I want everyone to know sometimes," he says quietly. "But then I wonder what they'd think. About me."
Adam doesn't care as much as he did when it was just starting; he knows it's real now, he knows Ronan would've never kissed him in the first place if he didn't know it was real too. But it still nags at him sometimes. Maybe he doesn't deserve this, doesn't deserve him. Maybe everyone can see it but Ronan.
"I don't care, Adam. I don't care what anyone says. I just want you to be okay."
"No, I am, I really am. Just — sometimes, I feel selfish. Because knowing that you're mine feels really good."
"It's supposed to, you idiot. And it's not like I'm not selfish about you."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I get mad when other people look at you. I know it's irrational, but —"
"You like me a lot, huh?" Adam says, because it's what they do when one of them starts getting uncomfortably earnest and the other decides to let them off the hook. Or that's what they tell themselves, anyway.
"You're an asshole."
"You like that too, right?"
"Yeah," Ronan admits.
"We can tell him, if you want," Adam says, after a short silence. "I mean, he's probably figured it out. We haven't exactly been subtle."
"Okay," Ronan says, squeezing his hand.
Ronan gets up a couple minutes later, still holding his hand, and pulls him to his feet too. He winks at him as they're slowly walking back to the car, and says, "Let me buy you some gelato, babe."
Adam hip-checks him and he stumbles and curses but Adam's smiling more brightly than he has in a long time. It feels like the sun coming out after a cold spell. Like new life emerging from the frost.