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Adam Parrish’s whole life was a series of awful days, but there were some days that more awful than others. This was one of those days.
It had been an awful week, really. He had worked even more hours than usual and gotten even less sleep than usual and eaten even less food than usual and been even more stressed than usual. When he did manage to get a couple hours of rest, the nightmares were vivid and terrifying.
His father’s fist. His mother’s cold and unforgiving face. Gansey, bleeding on the ground. Ronan dying painfully in a church. Persephone, dead, and Adam unable to stop it.
Usually, only one or two of those appeared in his nightmares in one night, but the night before, he had been rewarded with all of them. He woke up in the morning drenched in sweat and tears threatening to leak out of his eyes. He blinked them away and got ready for school, pushing away the horrific images and thoughts so he could get through the school day.
He got into Latin class early, as usual, and Ronan came in soon after him, as usual.
“Parrish,” Ronan said in way of greeting and sat down beside him.
Adam didn’t say anything, just nodded at Ronan and went back to staring at his list of Latin verbs. It was pointless, really, because he wasn’t absorbing anything. He was exhausted and wanted to close his eyes, but he knew that as soon as he did, the images from his nightmares would come back to him, and he couldn’t think about that without his eyes watering. He would not cry, not here, not now.
So he kept staring at the page in front of him. He could feel Ronan’s questioning gaze on him, but he ignored him. He didn’t have the energy to deal with Ronan right now. He didn’t have the energy to pretend to be fine. He just hoped Ronan wouldn’t inquire.
So, of course, Ronan inquired. “Parrish. You look like shit. What happened?”
Adam sighed, but he didn’t look at Ronan. He rubbed his eyes. “Nothing. Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Parrish.”
“I’m fine, Lynch,” Adam said through gritted teeth, and it came out more forcefully than he had intended.
“Adam.” Ronan’s voice was softer now, laced with concern.
Adam hung his head in his hands. His voice was muffled. “Just… nightmares. It’s been a bad week. But I’ll be fine.”
He finally looked up at Ronan, and for a second Ronan’s eyes were filled with worry, until he realized that Adam was looking, his face going back to his disinterested mask. Ronan looked like he wanted to say something, but then other students started to file in and the moment was over.
Adam felt Ronan’s concerned eyes on him periodically throughout the day, but he ignored him.
*
After school, Adam could barely make it through work, his eyes drooping and his mind whirring and his heart hurting. He told himself it was Friday, just get through the next few hours, get it together Adam.
When he finally reached home at 9 pm, Blue Sargent was waiting for him outside his apartment. She smiled at him when he reached the landing, and he tried to smile back, but didn’t succeed. He was too tired. He didn’t feel like talking to anyone right now.
“What are you doing here?” Adam asked, and his voice came out a little snappy despite himself.
Blue pursed her lips, frowning. Quickly, Adam apologized. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Bad day. I didn’t mean to…”
Blue nodded, her face going from annoyance to concern. “You okay?”
“Not really, but. I will be, hopefully.”
Blue hesitated. “Maybe this isn’t the best time, then.”
Those words didn’t sound promising, but Adam shook his head. “It’s fine. What is it?” He then noticed that Blue was holding a box in her hand, about the size of a shoebox. “What’s that?”
“We, um… Mom and Calla were going through Persephone’s things. Not throwing them away or anything, just…” She took a deep breath, and Adam noticed her eyes were wet. “Anyways. We found this among her things. There was a post it on it with your name. I think she left it for you. We didn’t open it.”
Adam stared at the box. He didn’t want to take it. He didn’t know if it he could handle this today. He was so close to breaking. “I don’t… I can’t…” He didn’t know what he was going to say. The words stuck in his throat, his voice thick. He couldn’t do this. Not today.
“It’s yours, Adam. Take it.” When Adam looked up at Blue, she looked tired, a little angry, and most of all, sad. He suddenly felt ashamed, remembering that this was a lot worse for Blue than it was for him.
Adam took the box and held it on one arm, and before he could think better of it, he reached out to Blue, taking her hand in his, squeezing it lightly, briefly, and letting go. He looked at her, trying to smile, and said, softly, “Thanks, Blue.” He didn’t know what he was thanking her for, exactly. For bringing the box, maybe. But for something else, too. He wanted to say I’m sorry, too, but he didn’t know what he wanted to apologize for. Everything, maybe. For not being able to help Persephone. For being useless. For being Adam.
Blue looked at him, blinking tears from her eyes. “Yeah, sure.” She gave him a watery smile, and brought one hand to his shoulder, squeezed it. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He watched her walk away and then went inside, closing the door behind him but not locking it. He didn’t feel as if he could stand for much longer. His legs felt as if they would give out any moment. He sat down on the right side of his bed, his back against the wall, Persephone’s box in his hand.
He had been staring at the box for half an hour, not moving, when he heard a knock on the door. He barely registers it, barely registers it when he says it’s unlocked come in, barely registers a voice calling his name again and again, barely registers anything until Ronan is sitting down on the bed beside him.
“The fuck, Parrish?”
Adam looked up at Ronan, not really seeing him. “What are you doing here?”
Ronan looked at him, saw something in his eyes, heard something in his voice. The concern from earlier in the day was back, ten times stronger. “You look like shit, man. And I just called your name like three times and you didn’t hear me. The fuck’s this?” The last part was referring to the box in Adam’s hand.
Adam blinked. “I… Blue dropped it off. Persephone left it for me.” His voice was a scratchy, insubstantial thing.
Understanding dawned on Ronan’s face. Ronan asked, soft and careful, “You going to open it?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I just… I can’t… this on top of everything else today…” He looked at his hands. He could feel his eyes watering. You will not cry.
“You don’t have to open it today if you don’t want to, man. There’s no rush.”
Adam shook his head. “No. I just want to get it over with.” Taking a deep breath, he lifted the top. Inside was a small scrying bowl the color of emeralds. The stone’s color immediately reminded Adam of Cabeswater. On top of the scrying bowl was a folded sheet of paper. He took it out and stared at it.
It was thin notebook paper, and at the top Persephone’s flowery scrawl said in big letters “Pie Recipe for The Magician”. Underneath it there were ingredients and instructions. Some of the ingredients made sense, others were things Adam had never heard of or herbs that he was sure was not supposed to be for pie. Some of them had things written on the side, like for looking outside yourself or for scrying or for your mind. At the very bottom, it said simply, Eat some pie. The whole thing was so very Persephone and Adam didn’t know what to do.
He remembered the last time he had seen Persephone. She had known that she was going to die. She had prepared something for him beforehand. It was more than any other adult had ever given him in his life.
“Did Persephone know that you don’t bake?” Ronan’s words were joking, but his tone implied that he was treading carefully, trying to diffuse the tension.
Adam didn’t say anything.
“Sorry. That was stupid,” Ronan muttered after a moment. Any other time, Adam would have wondered at the miracle of Ronan Lynch actually apologizing, but at that moment, his mouth wasn’t working. He carefully folded the piece of paper and put it inside the scrying bowl, and put the scrying bowl back in the box, and put the lid on the box, and put the box on the side table on his right. Then he stared at his hands in his lap. Ronan’s shoulder was close, but they weren’t touching. Adam wished they were touching.
Adam felt the tears as they formed in his eyes, waiting, trying desperately to leak out. You will not cry. You will not cry. You will not cry. Not now. Not in front of Ronan. You will not cry.
He was crying.
Normally, Adam didn’t stop himself from crying, only made sure his tears were silent so his father couldn’t hear him. The one time he had, Robert Parrish had made it very clear what he thought about boys who cried.
But Adam had let the quiet tears fall when he was sitting outside of his double wide, when he was alone in his room at night, even in the bathroom stalls of Aglionby sometimes, making sure they were empty. As long as no one saw him or heard him. As long as he was alone.
He was not alone right now. Ronan Lynch, fearless and reckless and impossible Ronan, was sitting beside him on the bed, and Adam had never felt more humiliated. He was weak. He was weak and pathetic and all he could do was furiously wipe at his eyes, not looking at Ronan, trying to stop the waterfall before it gained its momentum.
“Shit,” Adam mumbled. “I… Sorry. Sorry. I’m sorry.” His voice broke and cracked and sniffled and he hated it.
From the corner of his eye, he could see Ronan looking at him, cautious, wanting to comfort him but not knowing how. He looked like he wanted to reach out to Adam. Adam wished that Ronan wouldn’t hold back.
“Sorry,” Adam said again. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I’m… fuck. Sorry.” He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyelids, breathing deep, trying to hold it together. But he couldn’t.
He felt a tentative hand on his shoulder, the touch lighter than he would have preferred. “Don’t be sorry, Parrish.” Ronan’s voice was soft but fierce at the same time.
Adam kept wiping at his eyes, blinking hard, but the tears wouldn’t stop. “I can’t…” Adam said, but he wasn’t sure how to finish that. Can’t stop. Can’t do this. Can’t do any of this.
Because it wasn’t just about Persephone’s gift anymore, never really had been. The entire week’s exhaustion and stress and misery came crashing down on Adam. His nightmares played through his mind again, and he couldn’t stop it.
His father’s fist. His mother’s cold and unforgiving face. Gansey, bleeding on the ground. Ronan dying painfully in a church. Persephone, dead, and Adam unable to stop it.
Ronan’s hand was still on his shoulder, and it had tightened a bit. It wasn’t enough. Adam wanted more. He needed more.
He remembered being eight years old, after school, watching a kid cry to his mom as everyone was getting on the bus. The boy’s mother had wiped his tears and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight, whispering soothing and kind words as she did so. He remembered feeling a pang in his chest, a longing. How foreign this display of affection looked to him, how deeply and fiercely he wanted it.
The next time his father hit him, he had approached his mother afterwards, tentatively, hesitantly, hopefully, tears running down his cheeks. His mother did not wipe his tears. She did not wrap her arms around him. She did not say any kind words to him. She looked at him coldly, and told him to stop crying before his father found out, or else he’d just do it again and really, it would only be Adam’s fault for being weak and crying like this. It was always Adam’s fault.
After that, he never tried looking for comfort in someone else again, especially not his parents. All he had were his own tired arms to wrap around himself, and he did just that, making himself small, curling into himself, holding himself tight, because no one else would do it for him.
He had thought, once, that maybe Blue could be what he was looking for. He remembered the day after he moved out of the trailer and went to 300 Fox Way. He had laid his head on Blue Sargent’s lap, and she had touched his ear, had put her fingers through his hair, had called him brave. For just a moment, lying there, feeling her warmth, remembering all the times he’d touched her, put his hand in hers, his shoulder pressed against hers, he had felt like maybe she could have held him, if he asked.
But he had ruined that, just like he always ruined everything. It wasn’t going to be him and Blue. Or him and Gansey. It was only this: Adam Parrish. It had always been just that.
He was unknowable. He was lonesome. He was Adam Parrish, army of one.
Except that he wasn’t.
Because Ronan Lynch was sitting next to him, his hand gripping Adam’s shoulder, and even though Adam didn’t understand why, he knew Ronan liked him, wanted to hold him. Someone wanted to hold him, for once. And he wanted them to hold him. He wanted Ronan to hold him.
Adam pushed down all his fear, all the voices that said he was being weak, pathetic, a child, and turned to face Ronan. “Could you, um…” His voice was barely above a whisper. Ronan’s eyes widened a little, and he immediately took his hand off Adam’s shoulder and moved away, misunderstanding.
“Sorry,” Ronan muttered.
Adam shook his head. “No. No, that’s not what I-“ He took a deep breath and looked Ronan in the eyes. The other boy was staring back, eyes both curious and afraid. “I just need…” He leaned towards Ronan a little, and Ronan’s stare went from curious to confused.
Adam swallowed, and then he buried his head into Ronan’s chest. He moved so his forehead pressed into the place where Ronan’s shoulder and neck met, and his stretched out legs were pressed up at every point of Ronan’s. He felt Ronan tense beneath him, his sharp intake of breath. Then the other boy’s arms came up to encircle him, hesitantly, his hands a light feather on Adam’s upper back, as if he wasn’t sure if he was allowed.
Adam didn’t want Ronan to be hesitant. He didn’t want Ronan to hold back. To demonstrate his, Adam first touched his palms to Ronan’s chest, then moved them upward, tangled them around Ronan’s neck, clutching tight to the nape, where he could feel the short, prickly hairs. He moved closer still, pressing his chest against Ronan’s, feeling Ronan’s warmth seep into him. Finally, Ronan wrapped his arms around him tightly, holding him close.
Adam’s tears did not cease to fall, nor did they slow down. Instead, in the safety of Ronan’s arms, Adam pushed any and all feelings of shame and embarrassment down and let himself fall apart completely. His tears came faster, and they were no longer silent. He did not have to be quiet anymore. Not around Ronan. His soft sobs reverberated into Ronan’s chest, and his arms around him tightened, one of them moving upward to hold the back of Adam’s head, to stroke his dusty hair. Adam could feel Ronan’s chin on top of his head.
“Adam,” Ronan breathed, and Adam felt his breath as it tickled his hair. “Adam. Adam.” Ronan’s voice was soft and heavy and wrecked and he was just saying Adam, just his name, but the way he was saying it made Adam want to bury himself in the word, in Ronan’s voice. “Adam. You’re okay. You’re okay. Adam.”
Adam didn’t feel like he was crying because of anything specific anymore. Or maybe the specifics were just, everything. Maybe, he was crying for all the times he couldn’t, for all the times he had to hold himself back, for all the times he didn’t have anyone to wrap his arms around him when he was sad, for all the times he just wanted comfort and warmth and to belong somewhere and to have a home.
There was an indescribable feeling inside Adam’s chest, something that was unfurling in him. The rest of the world had faded away. There was just this: Ronan’s arms strong and sure holding him, Ronan’s smell of gasoline and sweat, Ronan’s body heat warming Adam up like a fire, Ronan’s voice whispering his name like a prayer. It was Ronan, just Ronan, and Adam never wanted to move away.
But he had to, eventually. After minutes or hours or years, Adam finally untangled himself from Ronan’s arms, and leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. He wiped the last of his tears from his face and then put his hands in his lap. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel Ronan watching him. He missed Ronan’s warmth already, but he made himself stay where he was. “I’m exhausted. I think… I just need to sleep.” His voice was dry.
“Yeah, man. Of course. Get some rest.” Ronan sounded awkward and uncertain again. Adam felt the bed shift, and when he opened his eyes, Ronan was taking the second pillow at the edge of the bed and moving to lie down on the floor. Before he could get very far, Adam grabbed Ronan’s wrist.
Ronan went completely still. He looked at Adam, and Adam could see the nervousness in them. “Parrish?”
Adam swallowed. “Stay.”
“I wasn’t planning on leaving.”
“No, I mean. Here. On the bed. Stay.”
Ronan’s eyes widened, and Adam felt himself blush, but he didn’t look away. “Are you sure?” Ronan’s voice was rough.
“Yeah. I just, I don’t think I can…” I don’t think I can fall asleep without you holding me. I don’t think I can deal with the nightmares.
Ronan swallowed. “Okay. Yeah.” He shifted, put the pillow beneath his head, and lied down. Adam turned the lamp off and got in bed beside him, lying on his back and pulling the blanket over both of them.
Ronan was lying completely still on his back, not touching Adam. Adam wanted Ronan’s touch. Making a decision, he turned on his side and looked at Ronan. The shadows and hazy streetlights from the window made a pattern on his sharp, handsome face, his eyes shut tightly. Slowly, Adam moved close to Ronan, and laid his head on Ronan’s chest. He tucked his arms on Ronan’s stomach. He felt the other boy stiffen, just as he had before, but this time, his arms came around Adam quicker, more certain, wrapping around his lower back.
“Night, Ronan,” Adam mumbled.
“Night, Adam,” Ronan said.
Just before he fell asleep, Adam had the thought that maybe he could get used to this.
*
Adam spent a borderline creepy amount of minutes staring at a sleeping Ronan the next morning when he woke up. He just looked so young and peaceful and Adam couldn’t remember ever seeing him this way. With the morning light hitting him just right, Ronan looked even more handsome, and his sharp edges were dulled into something much more innocent and open. Adam wanted to take this moment, wanted to hold it in his palm and keep it, because he had a feeling it was something extremely rare and precious.
When he woke up, they were tangled together in the same position they had fallen asleep in, except they were closer, holding onto each other even tighter.
Adam let himself have just a few minutes of reveling in the safety and warmth of Ronan’s embrace before he let the embarrassment about last night kick in.
He tried to stop it, he really did. He tried to hold onto that part of him that had recognized, however briefly, that Ronan liked him, probably didn’t mind holding him, had wanted to, even. But the amount of vulnerability Adam had shown last night was pretty much unprecedented, around any other person, but especially around Ronan Lynch. He had let his walls down for just one night, had let himself come apart at the seams. He hadn’t wanted Ronan to see this weak, childish side of him. He wanted only to be Adam Parrish, the Magician, for Ronan. That was the version of Adam that Ronan seemed to like. The version of him that was intelligent, calculating, held together, strong, powerful, magic.
He certainly did not feel like magic when he was blubbering into Ronan’s chest.
So he began to untangle himself from Ronan, at which point, of course, Ronan woke up. He blinked sleepily a couple times, seemingly disoriented, then looked at Adam - who was still halfway on his chest - in confusion, gave him an open, lazy smile that made Adam’s heart beat faster, then seemed to actually wake up and recall where exactly he was and what was happening and his face closed off. At that point, Adam sat up, pulling himself away from every point him and Ronan were touching.
He ran a hand through his hair nervously and looked down at his lap. “Uh, mornin’,” he said, his Henrietta accent prominent due to his unease and the fact that he had just woke up.
Ronan sat up too and scratched the back of his neck. Clearing his throat, he said, “Morning, loser.”
Before things got more awkward or Ronan mentioned anything about last night, Adam got up, muttering, “I should probably get ready for work.”
Ronan frowned. “Already?”
Adam shrugged. “I took an extra shift.” He had not, but he knew if he showed up at the factory they’d probably let him do it, and he couldn’t really think of a better excuse to get away from Ronan as soon as possible. “I’m going to shower. You can let yourself out whenever you want.” He kept his tone neutral, indifferent, and avoided Ronan’s eyes the whole time.
Ronan huffed. “Fine. Whatever, Parrish.” Adam wondered if he was imagining the hurt in Ronan’s tone. He didn’t think about it too hard, and went to shower. When he came back out, Ronan was gone.
*
As it turned out, Adam had been able to get some extra shifts, and worked until early in the evening. Gansey had invited all of them to Monmouth for the night, but Adam made an excuse not to go. He didn’t know how to be around Ronan, not yet.
There were two parts of him warring with each other. One part wanted to go to Monmouth and kiss Ronan until neither of them could breathe, to touch Ronan and hold him and be held by him. The other part wanted to run as far away as he possibly could. Possibly to China. Or maybe Russia. That was probably far enough.
He remembered the hurt in Ronan’s voice that morning, though, and the way he had held Adam so tightly and whispered his name, had comforted him without complaint, had let Adam sleep on his chest, and he felt slightly ashamed. Whether he was embarrassed of himself or not, Ronan deserved better than the cold dismissal he’d gotten from Adam that morning. He at least deserved a thank you.
After going back and forth for hours, Adam finally left St. Agnes at 9:34 pm in his shitty car and drove to Monmouth.
*
Gansey opened the door to Monmouth, looking slightly relieved. “Adam. Are you here to fix things with Ronan?”
Adam frowned. “What gave you the impression anything needs to be fixed?”
“Well, Ronan was in a terrible mood today and tensed every time I mentioned you, and you didn’t come over today, so I just assumed you two fought.”
He sighed. “Something like that.”
Gansey nodded. “Well, he’s in his room.” He hesitated. “Are you okay?”
Adam tensed. He hoped Ronan didn’t tell Gansey anything about his meltdown. “I’m fine. Why?”
“You just seemed a little down yesterday, and then you weren’t here today, and, well, Blue told me she dropped something from Persephone off… I just wanted to make sure…” Gansey trailed off, seeming nervous about asking.
Adam raised his eyebrows. “Did she tell you that during one of your late night phone conversations or drives?”
Gansey turned red. “I – yes – no – Adam, we didn’t –“
“Gansey,” Adam interrupted. “It’s fine. I’m fine with it. You two don’t have to hide it.”
The panicked expression hadn’t left Gansey’s face. “We didn’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry that we—“
“I’m not mad. It’s okay. Really. I’m over it.” He gave his friend a weak but sincere smile. Truth be told, it had stung, at first. But that passed pretty quickly, and he wanted them to be happy. Especially since he knew Gansey’s fate. No. That’s not going to happen. We’re going to save him.
Relief flooded Gansey’s face, but he still seemed slightly worried. “Are you sure?”
Adam nodded. “I’m sure.”
Gansey smiled at him, bright and golden, and lifted his fist to bump with Adam’s. The gesture brought a deep fondness into Adam’s heart, overwhelming him. He thought of bumping fists with Gansey, and then he thought of Blue squeezing his shoulder and his hand, and he thought, maybe that was their way of holding him, of wrapping their arms around him, their affection and fondness for him evident in their smiles, in their light touches, in the way they asked him if he was okay.
With a clap on Gansey’s shoulder, Adam finally walked over to Ronan’s room and knocked on the door, bracing himself.
There was no reply, so Adam let himself in and closed the door. He found Ronan sitting on his bed, his head tilted back, eyes closed, and headphones over his ears. Adam sat next to him, their shoulders close but not touching.
Ronan opened his eyes and removed his headphones, setting them on the side. He didn’t look at Adam. He didn’t say anything.
Adam cleared his throat. “Hey.”
Ronan nodded in acknowledgment. “Parrish,” he said, as way of greeting.
Adam didn’t know where to start. He fumbled for the right words, but after a few silent moments, Ronan spoke up. “How, um…” Ronan ran a hand over his head. “How are you doing? Since, you know…” Last night.
Adam looked at his hands. “Um. Better. A lot better.”
“I’m glad.”
“Yeah.”
The silence was tense and heavy and Adam didn’t know how to say what he needed to say. He took a deep breath. “That’s what I came here to talk to you about, actually.” At this, Ronan finally looked over at Adam. “I just… um. I just wanted to say sorry, for, uh, you know. I… I didn’t mean to have a meltdown. I’m sorry that you had to deal with me like that.” He looked up at Ronan, and the other boy’s expression was… angry.
“Parrish,” Ronan said, his voice fierce. “Stop fucking apologizing.”
“I need to, though—“
“No you fucking don’t. You don’t have anything to be sorry for, okay?”
Adam didn’t say anything, just stared at his lap. He didn’t know what Ronan was talking about. He had so much to be sorry for.
“Parrish, look at me.” Ronan’s voice was soft, now, gentle. Adam looked him in the eyes. “Adam, you’re… you’re like the strongest fucking person I know, okay? You don’t have to be – to be ashamed or whatever for letting it all out for once. You sure as hell have enough shit to warrant it.”
“That’s not what I… it’s not that, exactly.” Adam didn’t know how to say it, that crying wasn’t the problem. Crying in front of Ronan was what brought the deep shame and embarrassment inside him. Letting Ronan see the broken, tangled mess that was Adam Parrish.
Ronan, though, knowing Adam better than Adam knew Adam, guessed, and this time, Adam heard the blatant hurt in his tone, saw it in his eyes. “Then, what? Wait… because of me? Because you did it front of me?”
Adam stayed silent, looked down again.
“Did you really think I would judge you for that, Adam? I’m not that big of an asshole.”
Adam shook his head. “I know you’re not – but – it was – it’s still –“
“But nothing, Parrish.” Ronan exhaled noisily, his frustration clear. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet, almost a mumble. “I’m your friend, dumbass. I’m here if you need me.”
Adam swallowed. “Yeah?”
Ronan scoffed. “Obviously. You should know that by now.”
Adam supposed he was right. He should have known. Ronan, who held baby mice to his cheek, who paid Adam’s rent, who gave him hand lotion, who held him as he wept, who never expected anything in return. That Ronan wouldn’t judge him. Adam didn’t know how Ronan gave his love so forcefully, so fully, so unconditionally, to people. To him.
Adam shifted on the bed so that he was closer to Ronan, their shoulders now touching. He looked him in the eyes and said with as much conviction and sincerity that he could muster, “Thank you, Ronan.”
Ronan looked away. “You don’t have to thank me. It’s not a big deal.”
“It is, though. Seriously. Thank you. For what you did last night. And for everything else. It… it means a lot to me.” Adam’s voice was thick. The lump in his throat made it difficult to speak.
“Don’t get sappy now, Parrish,” Ronan muttered, but Adam saw the blush that painted his cheeks and ears a bright red. “You’re welcome.”
Adam swallowed, and made a decision. Slowly, he put his hand on top of Ronan’s, where it rested on his thigh. Ronan stilled. Adam shifted his hand a little so that he could lace their fingers together. When he finally got the nerve to look at Ronan, the other boy was staring at him with wide eyes.
They stayed like that, for a moment, neither looking away. Then, still staring at Adam, Ronan untangled their fingers, and Adam thought he was going to pull away. But Ronan just lifted Adam’s hand to his mouth, and softly kissed his palm. Adam shivered, and his eyes fluttered shut. It was the smallest of touches, but it reached every nerve ending on Adam’s body. He felt Ronan kiss his palm again, and then another time, almost desperately. Adam opened his eyes and Ronan’s eyes looked back, dark, intense, a planet or a galaxy or a universe inside them.
Then Ronan put their hands back down, though still held onto Adam’s. “Is – was that okay?” His voice was rough.
Adam exhaled. “Yes,” he breathed. Then he leaned in, rested his forehead against Ronan’s, their lips only an inch apart. “But this would be even more okay.”
He felt Ronan swallow, and then his lips were on Adams. They were soft, so soft. Adam kissed back immediately, and it was chaste, closed mouthed, slow, gentle. Ronan brought his other hand up to cradle Adam’s cheek, and Adam leaned into his touch. Ronan’s fingers traced Adam’s cheekbone, lightly pushed aside the hair on Adam’s forehead, and his lips were cautious and awkward and perfect and Adam felt like he was falling.
When they finally pulled back, Adam realized he was crying. God, not again. Ronan’s eyes were closed at first, and they fluttered open, his lips red and his cheeks flushed. He looked panicked when he saw the tears on Adam’s face, which Adam quickly wiped away.
“Oh come on, Parrish. I’m not that bad of a kisser,” Ronan joked, but Adam could hear the real insecurity in his words.
Adam let out an embarrassed laugh, and buried his head into Ronan’s shoulder. “Shut up, that’s not why I’m – I’m just –“
“You’re just crying after I kissed you. What other reason is there?”
Adam groaned. “Shut up.” He wrapped his arms around Ronan’s neck, tightly, nuzzled into him. Ronan’s hands came to rest on his lower back. “I’m just really glad you’re here,” Adam mumbled into Ronan’s neck. And he was. He was so glad to have him. To have Ronan holding him and caring about him. The gladness overwhelmed him. He didn’t know what to do with all the affection Ronan gave him.
“So they were happy tears, then?” Ronan’s breath tickled Adam’s ear as he spoke.
Adam rolled his eyes, even though Ronan couldn’t see him. “Yes, Lynch.”
He felt Ronan smirk. “So you cried because I’m actually a really great kisser and you just couldn’t take it.”
Adam laughed and pulled back, swatted at Ronan’s chest. “You’re such an asshole.”
Ronan’s expression was sharp and smug. He kissed both of Adam’s eyelids. “Yeah, but you like me.”
Adam’s cheeks turned pink. He shrugged. “Yeah. I guess I do.”
Ronan smiled, a real, true smile, and then he kissed him, just as gently as before. When he pulled back, his forehead against Adam’s, he said, “I like you too. So fucking much.”
Adam felt something warm in his chest. “Yeah, I figured from all the times you checked me out," he replied dryly.
Ronan turned red again. “Fuck off.” Then, “You could tell?”
“You’re not exactly subtle with your longing glances, Lynch.”
“Asshole,” Ronan muttered, ducking his head.
Adam smirked. “Yeah,” He pressed a kiss to Ronan’s lips, “but you like me,” to Ronan’s chin, “A lot,” to Ronan’s jaw, his neck, biting just a little.
He heard Ronan’s breath hitch, and Adam kept kissing his neck. “Yeah,” he said, his voice raw. “I do.”
Adam pulled away, making Ronan let out a tiny sound of protest. Adam raised his eyebrows, and Ronan scowled. “Shut up.”
After that, they both sat back, and Adam put his head on Ronan’s shoulder, and Ronan’s arm came around him. “So,” Adam said. “I was thinking. We should go out to dinner, maybe. Tomorrow. If you want.”
“You asking me out on a date, Parrish?”
“Maybe.”
“Okay.”
“Okay? Well, don’t sound so excited,” Adam deadpanned.
“What do I have to be excited about? We already made out. That’s the important part. The date’s just semantics.”
Adam lifted his head, looked at Ronan, raised an eyebrow suggestively. “I don’t think that counts as making out, Lynch.”
Ronan seemed speechless for a second. “I – Well –“
“I can show you what counts as a makeout,” Adam said innocently.
“Can you?” Ronan’s voice was dangerously low.
“If you want.”
Ronan grinned, too sincerely eager to be as smug as he intended, and leaned in, but Adam pulled away, despite every part of him wanting to continue kissing. “I should get home. It's late and I have work in the morning.”
Ronan rolled his eyes. “Fuck that. Just stay here.”
“We haven’t even gone on one date and you’re already trying to get me into your bed.”
Ronan flushed at the implication. “Fuck off, that’s not – just to sleep, asshole. Besides, you’re the one who invited me into your bed last night.”
Adam shrugged. “I did. Might do it again.”
Ronan’s voice was strained. “I—Right. Um. I’ll give you a change of clothes.”
When they finally went to bed, Ronan, laying on his back, seemed unsure again if he was allowed to touch Adam. Adam nearly rolled his eyes. He turned on his side, facing away from Ronan. When Ronan didn’t do anything, Adam sighed. “Lynch. Would you get here and put your arms around me already?”
“Fine, Jesus, don’t get greedy,” Ronan muttered, and then his arms were around Adam, and every part of their bodies was touching. Ronan pressed a kiss to the back of Adam’s neck.
And for the second time in his life, Adam fell asleep with someone holding him, and it felt more like home than anything else ever had.