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hadriel_logs2016-02-12 07:44 pm
unknowable) wrote in hadriel_logs2016-02-12 07:44 pm
Entry tags:
hang on to your dreams
Who: Adam Parrish (unknowable) and OPEN
What: Catch-all log for the month of February!
Where: Around the city
When: February 12-29 - put a date in your thread header if it matters!
Warnings: General stupid teenage boy-ness, swearing probably, possible mentions of violence
[a: scavenging]
[With a house full of teenage boys (and one raven) to feed, it's pretty normal for Adam to make supply runs, picking up whatever he can find from one of the many stores scattered around the city. It seems like the offerings are different every time he goes out, which at least makes it interesting. The basics can be counted on: strange, unfamilar fruit with occasional apples or oranges or bananas mixed in, cans of odd soups, boxes of various other foods. Right now, Adam is holding a box of cereal. The front says Fruit Spins in cursive print, and there's something that resembles a toucan but definitely isn't one.]
Well... I guess that's close enough.
[Adam's tone is extremely doubtful, but he looks like he's planning to take the box anyway.]
[b: park]
[It's not a forest, and it's not Cabeswater, but the trees in the park are real, and that offers Adam some kind of comfort. He misses home the same way he always has - shamefully, resentfully, angry at himself for letting Henrietta and the doublewide trailer he spent most of his life in have such a hold on him. He's always wanted to get out, desperately, always worked for that, but he wonders sometimes if there's no real way to shake the dust off his shoes. If, no matter where or how far he goes, there will always be some disgusting part of him that misses it.
But there's nothing wrong with missing Cabeswater. Well, it's with him, even now, but not the real thing. He can't walk under the trees or feel the pulse of the ley line. This is the closest he can get.
He lays on the grass under one of the trees, looking up at the light through the leaves. Like this, he can almost pretend he isn't in a cave. He can let his thoughts drift, let himself just be.
He almost falls asleep, until the sound of a footstep jolts him out of his reverie. He sits up, suddenly, and looking in that direction, a bit like a startled deer.]
[c: at home]
[Plenty of things to do at the raven boy house, which is not and never will be named something silly like Monmouth II. Adam tries to keep it a few steps below 'disaster area', which is not so very easy to do when they're all teenage boys and one of them is Ronan Lynch. He also tries to make sure they have food and other supplies - not out of a desire to take care of his friends, but out of his basic practical nature. Ronan doesn't care about these things at all, Gansey is too easily caught up in books and new amazing things, and Noah is a ghost. Adam might as well try to make sure they have dishes to eat off of and food to eat from those dishes.
Anyway, he does better when he has things to do. At home, Adam barely had an hour or two of free time here and there. Here, his time is free unless he fills it with things, and so he does, because he doesn't really know how to handle actual free time anymore.
Right now, he's in the kitchen, mundanely washing dishes. He figured the sink out long ago, at least, so that's good. He'll come to the door, if it's knocked on, or he'll allow himself to be disturbed, but otherwise - today Adam Parrish will be playing the part of underpaid (well, unpaid) dishwasher.]
[d: let me know if you'd like to do something else and I'll write up a starter for you!]
unknowable) and OPENWhat: Catch-all log for the month of February!
Where: Around the city
When: February 12-29 - put a date in your thread header if it matters!
Warnings: General stupid teenage boy-ness, swearing probably, possible mentions of violence
[a: scavenging]
[With a house full of teenage boys (and one raven) to feed, it's pretty normal for Adam to make supply runs, picking up whatever he can find from one of the many stores scattered around the city. It seems like the offerings are different every time he goes out, which at least makes it interesting. The basics can be counted on: strange, unfamilar fruit with occasional apples or oranges or bananas mixed in, cans of odd soups, boxes of various other foods. Right now, Adam is holding a box of cereal. The front says Fruit Spins in cursive print, and there's something that resembles a toucan but definitely isn't one.]
Well... I guess that's close enough.
[Adam's tone is extremely doubtful, but he looks like he's planning to take the box anyway.]
[b: park]
[It's not a forest, and it's not Cabeswater, but the trees in the park are real, and that offers Adam some kind of comfort. He misses home the same way he always has - shamefully, resentfully, angry at himself for letting Henrietta and the doublewide trailer he spent most of his life in have such a hold on him. He's always wanted to get out, desperately, always worked for that, but he wonders sometimes if there's no real way to shake the dust off his shoes. If, no matter where or how far he goes, there will always be some disgusting part of him that misses it.
But there's nothing wrong with missing Cabeswater. Well, it's with him, even now, but not the real thing. He can't walk under the trees or feel the pulse of the ley line. This is the closest he can get.
He lays on the grass under one of the trees, looking up at the light through the leaves. Like this, he can almost pretend he isn't in a cave. He can let his thoughts drift, let himself just be.
He almost falls asleep, until the sound of a footstep jolts him out of his reverie. He sits up, suddenly, and looking in that direction, a bit like a startled deer.]
[c: at home]
[Plenty of things to do at the raven boy house, which is not and never will be named something silly like Monmouth II. Adam tries to keep it a few steps below 'disaster area', which is not so very easy to do when they're all teenage boys and one of them is Ronan Lynch. He also tries to make sure they have food and other supplies - not out of a desire to take care of his friends, but out of his basic practical nature. Ronan doesn't care about these things at all, Gansey is too easily caught up in books and new amazing things, and Noah is a ghost. Adam might as well try to make sure they have dishes to eat off of and food to eat from those dishes.
Anyway, he does better when he has things to do. At home, Adam barely had an hour or two of free time here and there. Here, his time is free unless he fills it with things, and so he does, because he doesn't really know how to handle actual free time anymore.
Right now, he's in the kitchen, mundanely washing dishes. He figured the sink out long ago, at least, so that's good. He'll come to the door, if it's knocked on, or he'll allow himself to be disturbed, but otherwise - today Adam Parrish will be playing the part of underpaid (well, unpaid) dishwasher.]
[d: let me know if you'd like to do something else and I'll write up a starter for you!]
no subject
[Ronan nods his head back in that direction.]
C'mon.
[He waits for a moment for Adam to follow him, almost not sure if he will or not. But he'd already agreed to look at it, and as stubborn as they both can be, Ronan doesn't think that Adam will dig his heels in quite so soon. So he goes, hyperaware of Adam's movements behind him as he rests his hand on the doorknob for a moment.
Since waking recently, Ronan has moved on impulse and emotion, deciding that this would be the best course of action before really thinking anything through. The same thing happened when he'd tried to kiss Adam those weeks ago and had been startled into pulling back. It's too much action and emotion, too much lunging into matters without thinking things through, and as he slows to turn the knob, Ronan finds himself struck by a hesitation.
After he does this, there's no going back. He can't undo it, he can't make Adam forget about it. This is just him, this is proving something, this is showing something, and he'd be worried about pushing Adam further than he wants to, but Adam proved that he was no longer hesitant about this on the day that he'd tried to scry for Gansey. In a way, Adam had proved it before that, even- the sleeping near one another, the touches, the growing comfort in Ronan's presence. Ronan had been too cautious to see it then.
He's not even sure if he sees it now, or if it's just wishful thinking, but he forces the doubt from his mind and lives, pushing the door open and moving inside.
Ronan's room is in its usual haphazard state, with clothes strewn about the floor, intermingling with impossible things. There are three identical scrying bowls stacked in a corner, two of which suffer from deep cracks, there's something that looks suspiciously like a music box on the desk, half-buried by a carelessly thrown shirt. There's a dusty baseball glove trodden on in the corner, there's a handful of dirt strewn across the floor as if thrown. Chainsaw's cage is in the corner as usual, maybe in need of a little tidying up, but she's content within it for now.
Standing upright in the middle of the floor is the most impossible thing of all of them, and it's... difficult to describe what exactly it is. It looks like a sculpture made of wood and tightly-drawn wires stretching across the empty spaces, but after a moment or two of consideration, it becomes recognizable as an alien musical instrument.
It's the size of a cello, maybe a little smaller, but the neck of it is curved like the spine of a harp and branches off into elegant curls of wood, while the base is gently twisted and hollow, with strings crossing upward into the spirals near the top of it.
Something about it is foreboding. Something about it is the most beautiful thing that can be seen, and the beauty is compounded by the dozens of intricate carvings throughout the wood- subtle at first, almost unnoticeable until you're standing in the right light, but there, as gorgeous and terrible as the jet black lines of Ronan's tattoo. It's knotwork- if you look at it in another light, it's the grasping branches of a tree- in another light, it's masks and feathers and vines twisted together in an unsettling puzzle. If a master craftsman were given a decade, then they might be able to create something similar- but it's doubtful.
Ronan's mouth is suddenly dry as he makes his way over to it, reaching a hand out to stroke his finger along one of the strings in a practiced, casual movement.]
Do you know what this is?
[It's not a rhetorical question- it sounds more like Ronan believes that Adam might actually know the answer.]
no subject
He doesn't know what it is. He has no idea. An instrument? A piece of art? A weapon? All of the above? But it's beautiful, and it's strangely familiar, though maybe that's only because Adam has seen other creations of Ronan's dreams. Maybe it's that sort of odd familiarity, there but not quite. But even if it seems like he should be able to recognize it, to put a name to it, he can't. Or maybe he doesn't want to.
Adam does step closer, though, picking his way through Ronan's room. He extends a hand as if to touch it, but he doesn't. Of course he doesn't. It's not his to touch. Nothing this beautiful could ever be.
He looks at Ronan, temporarily distracted from any awkwardness by this exquisite dream. Ronan wants an answer, seems to think he might know, and while Adam fears that Ronan will get angry if he's honest, he can't lie about this. So he'll have to disappoint Ronan again.
He's not afraid of Ronan's anger, but only of shattering whatever chance he has at salvaging their friendship. He can't even think about anything more than that right now.]
No. I've never seen anything like it before.
[His voice is quiet, and if there's a gentle note of awe, isn't that to be expected? It's easy to forget, sometimes, what Ronan is. More of a magician than Adam could ever dream of being. The sort of person who can create something like this.]
no subject
He sees Adam's hand reaching out, sees it stop short before he can touch it, and Ronan's eyes lower for a moment, remembering the way that Adam had played in his dream. How his hands had moved along the strings that were somehow inexplicably tied to the tendons in Ronan's arms, Adam's knees supporting the bulk of the instrument that was laid into with the tattoo on Ronan's back. How it had been a worship, with blood dripping down the wires as Adam sliced his fingers on them, his shoulder supporting the wooden neck which beat with the pulse of Ronan's own throat.
Adam wouldn't know. It wasn't him in the dream, not really. He wouldn't know how to play something this alien in reality. Ronan's mouth draws tight for a moment, like he's not sure of what he's supposed to say, but he reaches out anyway, wrapping his fingers around Adam's wrist and guiding him to touch the engraved face of it, to smooth his fingers over the intricate detail.]
It's yours.
[Whether he's giving the thing to him or explaining where it came from isn't exactly clear, but Ronan takes another step, reaching out and pulling the instrument closer, turning it gently so that Adam can see the spots where the wood has been worn down, the carvings smoother and harder to see.]
Look how it was played. Shoulder, knees- [He points to each patch of worn wood in turn with his spare hand, before lifting his fingers away from Adam's wrist to touch the wires again, demonstrative, like he expects Adam to follow.] -strings.
[There's a pause, and Ronan realizes that he's getting ahead of himself, saying too much and not enough, not explaining where any of this is coming from. It's not his fault, really- he's still half drunk on the dream, entranced by the terrible beauty of it, by everything that it meant, by what he could show Adam of it and how it sounded when the music clawed its way out of his throat.]
no subject
I don't know how to play any instruments.
[It's a quiet denial, the only way he can really make it make sense to him. Of course he doesn't, and he's sure Ronan knows that too, because when would Adam have ever been able to learn? Instruments cost money, lessons cost money and time, all things he's never been able to afford. Things Robert Parrish would never in a million years even consider giving up so his son could learn something as useless as music.
But Ronan knows that. He knows where Adam comes from, he knows there's no place for a beautiful thing like this in a trailer park. Not even in dreams could Adam imagine that.
He touches it anyway, feeling the fine grain of the wood in the carvings, not thinking about how warm Ronan's fingers felt around his wrist or how it's the first time Ronan's touched him in weeks. Adam gets touched so rarely - by anyone - that it's not difficult to remember these things. It's difficult to not think about it, but he manages.]
It can't be mine.
[He doesn't know what Ronan wants from him. He doesn't know what this is, he wouldn't even begin to know how to play it. Whatever Ronan brought him in here for, Adam isn't going to be able to do it. He's only going to disappoint Ronan - frustrate him. But maybe that's always been true.
It's beautiful, though. It's worth seeing. He reaches out, touches the strings with just the tips of his fingers, like he's afraid he'll break something.]
no subject
This. It. The thing that Ronan is trying to show him, the thing that he's trying to give him. It's an apology and it's an offer, it's a statement more than it is anything else, because Ronan doesn't do things for reactions from people, he just does them and lets everyone else think what they want of it. Except this time, Adam's reaction matters- what he thinks matters, and to someone like Ronan who has never given a fuck about the opinions of other people, that idea is terrifying.]
I said it was, didn't I?
[His voice is a little testy, but that's pretty much the normal for Ronan. He doesn't know what to do from here- he'd thought to bring Adam in here and use the instrument to maybe talk to him again, to somehow demonstrate what's going on in his head by showing Adam an object that he'd taken from it.
But of course Adam can't make that connection. How could Ronan expect him to? It would be a leap to assume anything about the instrument or the dream it was taken from, and putting Adam on the spot like this probably isn't helping matters. Ronan tells himself this as he tries to quell the restlessness and pinpricks of anger that come from Adam not just immediately understanding, and instead he takes a step back from it, shifting the topic.]
You're mad at me.
[While not untrue, it's also not really the reason either of them are here. But it's as good of a place to start as any, and Ronan is good at being blunt when he's accusing someone else of something.]
no subject
Maybe if Ronan would just explain himself - be clear - they could figure it out. Maybe if Ronan didn't expect Adam to somehow read his mind, know exactly what he means without having to say it. No one can do that, certainly not him, and it only makes Adam feel more like a failure, like it should have been obvious from the beginning that he wasn't right for Ronan.
Because maybe there is someone out there who would know, who would look at this and know exactly what Ronan meant. But that person isn't Adam, quiet and internal, who can't even figure himself out, much less anyone else.
He looks at Ronan, though, distracted for a moment, and his brow furrows.]
I'm not mad at you.
[Annoyed, sure. Hurt, maybe. Frustrated and lonely and lost. But not really mad. What right does he have, when it was his own fault?
He doesn't know if Ronan means this, right now, or what happened before. He doesn't know if Ronan really does want him to pretend it never happened. He'll do that, he will, but first - first he has to at least try to clear the air.]
It was my fault. I fucked up.
[He looks away, because how can he keep looking at Ronan?]
I mean - how many times do people have to not want to kiss you before you get the picture, right?
no subject
He's focused now.
He doesn't know if it's the fact that Adam is blaming himself or the fact that Adam thinks he's somehow undesirable, but something about his words wrenches something low in Ronan's gut- it makes him angry, it makes him sorry, it makes every inch of him want to prove every inch of Adam wrong.
It's the implication that Adam had wanted to kiss him. That after all of this waiting, after all of this making sure, Adam had decided to do it weeks ago- and yes, Ronan had fucked it up, but that's not the point, the point is that Adam is there, that he has been there, and Ronan may very well get his opportunity to prove Adam wrong in the near future.
In this room. In this conversation.]
...you wanted me to kiss you.
[It should be a question, but Ronan's tone allows for no uncertainty. He hasn't looked away, his stare pinning Adam like a butterfly to a corkboard, and when he advances on him, it's deadly, with intent.
Ronan doesn't kiss him then. But he pushes Adam back, forceful but yielding, firm but gentle as he takes hold of Adam's shoulders and crowds him against the nearby wall. He's taller than Adam, slightly stockier, and so he looks down at him when they go still, encompassing and dark and- still uncertain, somewhere past the determination in the razor-sharp line of his brow.]
Do you still want that?
[His voice is a whisper. It gives too much of him away.]
no subject
His back is pressed against the wall and Ronan's hands are on his shoulders and he has no desire to push him away, to end this prematurely. There are a lot of things he could say, a lot of things that he wants to say. You're the one who didn't want to kiss me or I've wanted that for months or I don't want this out of pity. But none of that seems right, not when Ronan is so close and looking at him like that.
He wants to reach out - it would be so easy. He still remembers that brief moment, his lips against Ronan's, before Ronan pulled away. He knows he can't, though, he knows he should have learned his lesson, he shouldn't take things for granted, it doesn't matter how Ronan is looking at him or what Adam thinks he wants, he could lean in to bridge the empty space between them and Ronan could pull away again and what would he do then? What could he do?
So Adam doesn't move. He doesn't even want to feel hopeful. He raises his chin, meets Ronan's eyes. Even when Ronan is like this, intent and focused and just on the edge of dangerous, Adam isn't afraid of him. It's - a thrill, really, to be looked at like that, to think that Ronan could ever look at him like that. Like a predator, with a faint trace of uncertainty undercutting it, rendering him more human if no less fierce. And Adam likes it, he always has. Ronan's fierceness, that he can't match even if he is strong in other ways.
He makes his voice certain, though he can't make it loud. Not when they're so close. He's just loud enough to be heard.]
I wanted you to. I still want you to.
no subject
And after that, after Ronan has him pinned there and Adam admits what he wants, there's nothing left between them and them, save for the act.
Ronan has kissed him before, but not when Adam was expecting it- Adam has kissed Ronan before as well, but it met a rather abrupt end. Now, the shape of his mouth is familiar but not too familiar, the feeling as Ronan braces one arm on the wall next to Adam's head and uses his other to trace up the other boy's throat is similar- but not that similar. There's no urgency this time except for impatience. There's no surprise. There's no doubt.
I still want you to.
Ronan dips his head down and finally, finally kisses him.
For all that he's focused, for all that every part of his body is tense to the point of snapping- for all that he's teeth and jagged bits of metal and black ink splayed over sharp bone- the kiss is remarkably gentle. It's not soft, nothing about Ronan could quite be described like that- but there's an ease to it that implies a greater caution, that if Adam pushes then he'll draw back, if Adam pulls away then he'll fall into line.
Intense and gentle, firm and delicate. It's the same dichotomy that's present in every other aspect of Ronan Lynch. Adam should be used to it by now.]
no subject
Logically, Adam knows it's probably not the most perfect kiss in the world. They're both inexperienced, or at least he knows he is, and they're both a little uncertain and maybe a little scared - or maybe that's just him, too. But it feels like Ronan, like obviously this is how Ronan Lynch would kiss him, and it's everything he wanted. He's careful, so careful, like he's not totally sure how he'll be received, whether Adam really does want this. But he's not tentative, not at all, and the intensity of it washes away some worry in Adam.
Because he didn't know. He didn't know if that was it, if his stupid, impulsive kiss had ruined whatever was growing between them. He didn't know if maybe he'd gone too far, wanted too much. Adam is always so good at wanting too much. Wanting Ronan would have fit right into that. He wouldn't have been surprised, not really, even if he'd have been disappointed. More than disappointed.
But Ronan is kissing him now, and Adam isn't thinking about anything else. He can't. His senses are full of Ronan, Ronan's fingers on his throat and the warmth of Ronan's body inches away, and drowning out everything else, Ronan's lips on his.
He kisses back, of course. Of course. He doesn't freeze, he's not surprised, he asked for this, he wanted this. He doesn't push for more than a kiss, for a deeper kiss - he doesn't think he could even if he wanted to, this alone is enough to make his whole body feel alive, electric. It's just a kiss, but how long has it been? How long since he started to think Ronan might want to kiss him, how long since Adam realized that he wanted that, too?
Too long. He reaches out, tangling the fingers of one hand in the fabric of Ronan's shirt. Not holding him there, just touching him, another point of contact. And he kisses back, gentle too but intent, holding himself back, just on the edge of hungry.]
no subject
At the same time, it feels overwhelming, like he'll just crumble into nothing if this goes any further. Ronan knows what this is to him, he knows what Adam is to him, on so many more levels than just the surface. It makes sense like this, it feels like everything is falling into place. He can't feel the pull of Cabeswater when he's awake, but when he's kissing Adam, he feels almost like he's walking in a dream anyway, with the trees whispering postremo, postremo.
He can't hold this forever, though he wants to. Eventually, Ronan has to come up for air, and so he breaks the kiss gingerly, his thumb sliding along Adam's jaw in a gesture of absent affection while he finds his bearings again, opens his eyes again, looks toward Adam again.
Ronan breathes, but he doesn't move away quite yet. He takes all of Adam in- the dust colored hair, the smattering of freckles, the way his bones make him look more like a nimble creature than a human being. Ronan swallows hard, struggling suddenly, to find his balance in this new equilibrium.]
I wanted to.
[That Adam would think that nobody would want to kiss him is a crime, when Ronan has thought of him, dreamed of him, shamefully tried to imagine exactly what this would be like. The real thing makes everything else pale in comparison, and Ronan nods, forcing himself not to look away, forcing himself to be as blunt about this as he is about everything else.]
I still want to.
no subject
He feels flushed, warm, like his heart is beating a little too hard in his chest. Like he wants to reach out and touch Ronan, kiss him again, only he doesn't know what's allowed and what isn't, he doesn't know where the lines are. He doesn't know if it was only a kiss or if things are different now, and what it might mean if they are. What it might mean for them.
He doesn't know how to ask, either. He doesn't want to ruin this moment.
Ronan is so intent, so focused on him. It's impossible to look at anything else, think about anything else, when Ronan is so close and looking at him like he's the only thing in the room. Adam looks, because maybe he's allowed to now and because he doesn't want to look at anything else, letting his gaze follow the familiar lines of Ronan's handsome face, sharp and intimidating but not dangerous, not to Adam. Some part of him still only half-believes that Ronan would want to kiss someone like him. Ronan, who could have his pick of a hundred more attractive, more privileged, less broken boys. It always forces Adam to reassess himself, when he faces Ronan's attraction head on, because what does it mean that someone like Ronan (fierce, catastrophic, loyal and true) could want someone like him?
He forces himself to let go of Ronan, to release his shirt, but only so that he can very carefully reach up, wrapping his fingers around Ronan's wrist, sliding his thumb across the back of his hand. He likes that contact, he likes Ronan's ability to touch him like it means nothing or everything, like he doesn't even have to think about it. Adam can't do that, but he wants it, like he wants so many things about Ronan.]
I thought you'd changed your mind.
[He says it softly, quietly, an admission of his own fear, not looking away from Ronan.]
Please don't give up on me.
no subject
He doesn't plan on giving up on Adam. It's never been his intention- even back when they'd first discussed this, what feels like a lifetime ago when Ronan had sat on Adam's bed and flipped the Magician tarot and said no fucking pressure, but I'm not changing my mind. It was true then and it's true now- doubly so, after all that the two of them have been through together. Ronan can't help but to think of everything that's happened since then, all the times they'd saved one another, all the times they'd helped one another and fought one another and just talked about nothing at all.]
I don't change my mind, [he murmurs, and that's true enough. Once Ronan has decided on something, it's concrete, as solid and real as any object in this world. He can be stubborn about it, he can be an ass about it, but he doesn't change his mind on things without a damn good reason, and Adam hasn't given him one.
He tries not to let himself get distracted by this- the way that Adam looks when he's up close like this, closer than he's ever been before. And it's okay to look now, he doesn't have to hide the fact that he's looking, that he wants to see him and memorize every small detail about the way his hair falls against his forehead, the sharpness of his cheekbones, the lightness of his eyes. It makes something ache in Ronan to see him like this, to be allowed to see him like this, and Ronan turns his hand slightly to twist his fingers around Adam's own.
It's an awkward angle and he has to disconnect them for a moment and bring their hands down to make it work, but when he gets it right, it fills his chest with a stupid tightness. It's nothing, it's just another point of contact, it's just Adam's slender, delicate fingers curled around his own, with his fading worker's callouses and his pragmatically-cropped nails, it's just- touching, but it makes his mouth go dry all the same.]
...does this mean- [Please don't give up on me. Adam looks at him like he's the entire universe, and Ronan finds himself uncharacteristically stumbling over his words. He knows what he wants to say, but it's difficult, and he can't think about what exactly he wants to say because everything feels like it's going so fast and entirely too slow at the same time.]
-that you and I, that this- [his heart is pounding so hard that he's sure Adam can hear it, as close as they are. Ronan wets his lips and tries to continue, tries not to sound like he's some jerkoff in grade school, but he doesn't know how else to say it.] -this can happen?
no subject
But Ronan kissed him this time, he wanted to, he touched Adam like Adam was worth something, he's holding Adam's hand now. He's asking if they can be something, if this is something that can really happen, and he's nervous, like the answer really matters to him.
Because Adam can't always read Ronan, doesn't always know what he's thinking or feeling, but there's no other explanation but nerves. Fumbling his words, the gentle grasp of his hand, the hesitance like he can't quite find the words. Ronan is nervous because of him, and it seems like it should be impossible but it clearly isn't.
It gives Adam a little bit of courage, a little steadiness. A little strength. Because anyone who can make Ronan Lynch nervous, even for the briefest of moments, ought to have some kind of strength. His fingers tighten on Ronan's, just a little, and he doesn't look away.]
I'm not good at this kind of thing. I'll probably hurt you. You deserve - a lot, Ronan.
[A lot better, a lot more than he can give, with his difficulty loving and his wariness and how unused he is to physical affection. Ronan deserves someone who could give him everything he could possibly want. Adam knows that, and he knows that he probably can't do that. But he doesn't let go of Ronan's hand, his careful warning just that, a warning. So Ronan goes into this with his eyes open.]
But I want it to happen.
[And his strength doesn't desert him, but his voice does waver, because Adam is afraid. He's afraid Ronan could still say no, could still change his mind. He's afraid of what might happen if he doesn't.]
no subject
Ronan doesn't deserve to be with someone like him. He knows he doesn't. He doesn't know what he does deserve- guilt is a transformative thing, and at times it leaves him thinking that he's earned every hurtful thing that he's ever done to himself, and at times it leaves him cradling the remains of his self-worth to build himself back up into something whole.
Luckily, this sort of thing isn't about deserving. It's not about who's worked harder, it's not about who's capable of more. It's about the rest of Adam's words, I want it to happen, it's about the tremble in his voice, the way his fingers tighten, the way he'd leaned into the kiss. That's all this needs.]
You think I'm an expert?
[It's said a little lighter, and Ronan manages a crooked smile, as if to remind Adam of exactly who he's dealing with. Ronan, who has never been in a relationship, who has watched Declan's revolving door of women for the last two years of his life, whose mother was a creation of his father's, whose only other remote experience with physical attraction had been swallowed up in a ball of flame several months before any of this happened.
He noses closer- trying to be reassuring, but his lips graze against Adam's temple and it takes everything he has not to get lost in the sensation of trying to kiss him again.]
So we'll give each other shit- we do that anyway.
[He closes his eyes and exhales in a sigh that ghosts through Adam's hair. Please, he thinks.]
This can work. [If he knows nothing else, he knows that. Ronan may not be a connoisseur of relationships, but he knows that neither of them give up easily. He knows that Adam has an iron will and a sweetness to him when something catches his affection. Ronan knows that he himself has a capability to love wholly, to consume someone else in a rush of feeling. He knows that sometimes, Adam wants nothing more than to be consumed.]
It could- [Ronan swallows thickly, tries again-] -we could be good.
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He can feel Ronan's breath against his skin. He's so close, and Adam can barely take it. He wants them both to go into this certain, with their eyes wide open, that's what he's always wanted. That's why he had to wait so long, he needed to be sure. Not of what he wants - he's known that for awhile - but of his ability to try. He doesn't know if he can keep this from eventually going down in flames, he doesn't know if he can make Ronan happy.
But Adam knows what he wants, and he knows that he can try. And if Ronan keeps wanting him, if he doesn't change his mind even when Adam is distant and too cold and sometimes uncertain, then maybe they'll be okay, maybe they can do this. Because Adam doesn't think he's going to stop wanting anytime soon.
Just that one kiss wasn't enough, could never be enough. He wants Ronan's lips on his and the warmth of Ronan's body and the touch of his hands, and he wants to be able to touch Ronan too, to slide his own fingers along the sharp line of Ronan's jaw and see if it'll cut him. He wants to trace the lines of Ronan's tattoo. He wants Ronan to look at him like he doesn't want to look at anything else, like he barely sees anything else. He wants Ronan to dream about him.
He wants to be able to hold Ronan's hand, and to know that he cares even when they fight about stupid shit.
And it all feels selfish, like Adam shouldn't be allowed to want this for himself, like it's childish and he shouldn't want it so badly, like all he should really care about is his future and finding some way to get out of Henrietta for good, instead of letting himself be distracted by an angry boy with scarred hands and a carefully guarded heart. But feeling like that doesn't make him stop wanting.
He raises his free hand, pressing the tips of his fingers to the back of Ronan's neck, feeling the short, soft hairs there. He could kiss Ronan, it would be so easy, but he doesn't. He lets his lips ghost softly against Ronan's jawline instead, an echo of his almost-kiss so long ago in his room, after they both faced their worst fears. His voice is soft, and though the words are confident, the tone edges into longing.]
Then what are we waiting for?
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It wasn't so much about shame as Ronan thinks it was about fear. Fear to fuck up their friendship, sure, but also fear to hurt one another, fear to drag this into the open and then break their hearts over it. He doesn't want to hurt Adam, but he thinks that even more than that, Adam doesn't want to hurt him. It's why he waited so long to be sure, even after he realized that he wanted this all those months ago. Adam has always been careful, has always been wary and hesitant, and it makes sense that he'd be all of those things when jumping into something like this.
Which is why, when he finally speaks in affirmation, Ronan's heart leaps into his throat. Adam doesn't have to wait long for a reaction because Ronan is pulling back, away from him, untangling their fingers and reaching his hand up to cup Adam's cheek in his palm.]
Jesus fucking Christ, we were waiting for you to say that.
[He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, but Ronan says it affectionately when he closes the distance between the two of them. Adam may be able to resist kissing him, but Ronan won't even try to fight the urge to pull him closer now.
It's not like the earlier kiss. This is triumphant, not hesitant- it's hard and it's searing and it's not entirely comfortable, but it doesn't matter. All that really matters is sharing this, trying to relate to Adam exactly how he feels and what this is, so there's no room for doubt, no room for wariness or being careful or being hesitant. It's just Ronan- passionate, truthful, earnest Ronan, pressed against him warm and secure.
It's starting, he thinks, like the first fucking glimmer of a perfect sunrise. That's what this is. That's what this feels like.]
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He wants Ronan, and he wants this, and they've both been waiting too long. Ronan kisses him like caution is an afterthought, and it's as honest as Ronan can be when he lets himself, and it's impossible for Adam to keep from responding to it. Probably if Ronan had kissed him like this months ago Adam would never have been able to be hesitant, to be careful. And it's for the best that he was, but - but think what he could have had all this time.
He's trapped between the wall and Ronan's body - warm, sturdy, very distracting - but Adam doesn't feel trapped at all. On some level he knows that if he wanted this to stop, it would, Ronan has always been so careful about boundaries, but that's not it either. It's not knowing that Ronan would stop that makes him feel unfettered and free. It's quite the opposite, it's knowing that Ronan wants this, that Ronan would pick him, that he's thought about this and he wants Adam, even though he knows Adam is a disaster. Even though he knows Adam.
He kisses Ronan back, holding on to him, passionate and warm with an edge of eagerness that he can't hide and doesn't really try to. He wants to give back even a fraction of what Ronan is giving to him, this feeling that sets his body alight and leaves him buzzing with something that might almost be bliss, if he knew what that was supposed to feel like. Whatever it is, it makes air seem like an afterthought, it makes him want Ronan to stay right where he is.
Adam does pull back, though, finally, because the world has rules and one of them is that air is not, in fact, an afterthought. He'd be breathless anyway, though. Ronan's fault.]
I made you wait too long.
[But it's not an apology, really, and he doesn't sound sorry or regretful or anything, because Adam isn't sure he can feel remotely regretful at this moment in time. He isn't sure he can feel anything but wonder.]
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The fire that usually stokes his expression into an incendiary blaze is softer now, still present in his features, but less intense, warmer. Ronan doesn't grin, but he lets a smile tug at the corner of his mouth while Adam gathers his thoughts and admits that this entire thing had taken too long.]
You did what you had to.
[Ronan shrugs it off like it's nothing, reaching a hand up to ruffle the curl of Adam's hair above his forehead. It's not nothing, it hasn't been nothing- it's been months of being together without being together, touching and talking and wanting, but never quite closing the distance between them. Still, he can't blame Adam for wanting to be cautious- not around a creature like him, and not with something as fragile as this. It makes sense that he'd want to be sure, and Ronan understands because it took him awhile too.
Besides, he would have waited longer if necessary. Despite popular belief, Ronan knows how to be patient- and when it's about something like this, he really has no option except for patience. His mind has been made up for months now, and once he comes to a decision, there's no changing it.
So, Adam. So, waiting. So- this.]
Don't worry about it. We're here now.
[It's pretty much the best he can offer. Belatedly, Ronan takes a step back so he's no longer... well, holding Adam against a wall, and instead lets him up to move for himself, his expression slackening a little as he reflects on their conversation that led to this.]
And no more of that 'nobody wants to kiss me' bullshit, got it?
[Ronan's voice pitches in a slightly mocking whine when he says it, but really, he thinks that he's made his point here.]
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Adam's had a girlfriend before, though that was kind of awkward and ended poorly, but he's never had a boyfriend before. Never considered it, not seriously, not until Ronan. He doesn't know if that's what Ronan wants, or if he just wants to be friends who kiss and maybe do more, eventually. But it sounded, before, when he talked about it - it sounded like he wanted more. Like he wants them to be a them.
This is all uncharted land for Adam. He supposes it's probably the same for Ronan, who as far as Adam knows has never dated anyone. And part of Adam still wants to be hesitant, is still afraid, probably always will be - but he looks at Ronan and it's impossible to want anything but this. Ronan looks happy, in a way Adam has almost never seen, and the thought that it's because of him is almost too much to hold.
They're here now, and whatever that ends up meaning, it's what Adam wants.]
Blue wouldn't kiss me, you pulled away. I figured there had to be something wrong with me.
[He says it simply, matter-of-fact, because that was after all the logical conclusion. He still doesn't understand why Ronan didn't kiss him then, if it was the wrong time or the wrong place or just wrong, but Ronan was kissing him just a moment ago, so it seems to matter less. He wants Ronan to be kissing him again, but they seem to be talking right now instead, and he guesses that's okay.
He does stand closer, though, than he would have before, easily close enough to touch. Personal space matters to both of them, Adam knows, but he thinks this is okay, and he wants to be close. He's going to have to learn - learn boundaries, learn how to push past his own a little, learn how to get comfortable with touching and being touched. He wants to. He's not sure where to start, except with this closeness.]
I thought you were pissed, or something. Or I would have - talked to you sooner.
[He was scared of finding out that he'd fucked it all up for good. He didn't, somehow, and he can't quite believe that they're here, together. That Ronan still wants him.]
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But she wouldn't kiss him. Ronan doesn't know why, as he deems Adam particularly kissable and he's now with the experience to say so with certainty. He's angry with Blue, in that moment, for hurting Adam, though part of him knows that holding it against her isn't exactly fair, especially when he's simultaneously angry with her for ever being an object of Adam's affections in the first place.]
Seriously?
[The second part is the part that really surprises him, though. That Adam thought he was angry. He knew that Adam took it personally when he'd pulled away, and in the moment he hadn't been able to explain the reason why.
Now though, it seems stupid that this was what was keeping them apart for these past few weeks, and Ronan struggles with the words of it, trying to explain without making himself vulnerable. It's harder than it looks, and after a moment or so, he just sighs, resting their foreheads together, his eyes lowered.]
I told you, you- [you scared me, he'd said, and he meant the fact that Adam had stopped breathing, but he also sort of meant the kiss, but how was Adam supposed to know that?]
-I thought you were going to fucking die, dumbass. I wasn't expecting it.
[Not after waiting for so long for it, not with no warning, not with Adam still entrenched Cabeswater, not immediately following the adrenaline rush of Adam's life hanging over his head. He knows that he'd kissed him first, but it's different, somehow.]
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It just feels - silly, maybe. Because it was a misunderstanding, a ridiculous mistake. Ronan did seem angry, and he hadn't made any attempt to patch things up afterward, so of course Adam would assume the worst. But Adam hadn't tried to explain himself, either, hadn't demanded an explanation for Ronan's own actions. So - what? He was just startled, scared, not sure what to do when Adam kissed him so suddenly?
He smacks Ronan's arm, lightly, not even as hard as he's done in the past when Ronan's said something supremely awful.]
You could have said something, asshole.
[But he's not mad. How could he be? Adam still feels like he's brimming with the possibilities of this, the knowledge that Ronan wants him, wants to kiss him. It's impossible to actually be angry in the face of that, even if he had reason to be, which he doesn't.]
I was so sure I'd ruined everything.
[His tone turns more wistful, and his fingers come up to trace the line of Ronan's jaw, because he's wanted to touch him for so long and now maybe it's okay, maybe he can do this when he wants to.
He's used to wanting so much more than he can have, to working hard and trying with every bit of himself and still not being enough. School, work, Cabeswater, Gansey, Blue. Maybe it's different now. Maybe to Ronan he's enough.]
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A long time ago, Ronan wouldn't have thought this possible. Adam had his crush on Blue and Ronan was still trapped in his downward spiral, and nothing like this could have ever happened. He wonders if they would have still found one another like this back home, if this is just the natural progression for them- or if the things they've been through since they left Henrietta pushed them together where it might not have worked originally.
He doesn't think so. Not with how long he's known, not with how long he thinks Adam has known. It's just taken them this long to be sure, to collide.
It doesn't matter, though. None of that does, not when they're both here now.]
I told you- I'm not changing my mind.
[He says, shooting Adam a pointed look- because if there's anything in this universe to be sure about, then it's the fact that Ronan will stick by his emotion and his judgement and his promises. His attraction to Adam had been all three. Ronan's gaze inevitably drops then, to the hollow of Adam's throat, the divot of his collarbone and the threaded hem of the shirt he's wearing. If Adam can touch him, then- then surely it's alright to reach back, right?
So he lifts his hand then- slowly, like he's still giving Adam time to pull away, like there's still some doubt that he wants to- and rests it near the base of the other boy's throat, his thumb tracing along the hollow of his collarbone. Ronan's eyes are drawn to the point of contact, watching his own bruised hand gently slide up the line of bone, up to his shoulder, lightly tracing the path of Adam's pulse-point until he finds the underside of his jaw, and he lets out a soft exhale.
He wants to say something else, maybe break the silence, but he can't think of anything that doesn't sound completely stupid, so he leans in for another kiss, using his fingers on Adam's chin to tilt his face up for it. This one is forcefully delicate- almost sweet, if anything Ronan does can be called that.]
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But Ronan touches him like he's something worth touching, and Adam wishes there was some way to express what that means. He's far more familiar with pain than gentleness, more used to feeling worthless than feeling like someone wants to touch him. He wouldn't be able to say anything even if he knew what to say, because how embarrassing would it be to try to say what it means when Ronan touches him like that?
Adam has seen Ronan with Chainsaw, with the mice at the barns, with Matthew. Ronan treats the things that matter to him with care. It's not so strange that he would treat Adam the same way, not really, except that it's so completely foreign to Adam's experience that it is strange. It's not strange coming from Ronan, but it is strange for Adam to feel.
But maybe he's been wishing for that for a long time.
He kisses Ronan, his own fingers still pressed lightly against Ronan's jaw, feeling the subtle play of muscle there. Nothing's different, nothing's less just because Ronan's kissed him before. If anything, each time it's better, because each time Adam is less afraid it'll be the last.
When they part this time, Adam's voice is soft but certain. His hand falls from Ronan's jaw to his shoulder, then his upper arm, touch careful and a bit cautious. This is all right now, he's starting to understand that, but he's not quite certain enough to be bold yet, not quite steady enough to touch Ronan like it doesn't mean anything. He doesn't think it'll ever be that way, he thinks it'll always mean something, but it'll be easier. He wants it to be, someday.]
Good. I won't either.
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In part, this is because Adam is such a skittish creature, even if he'd like to pretend otherwise, even if he forces himself still until the blows come- he's always waiting for them, always expecting something around the corner. In part, this is because Ronan has never reached out to anyone like this before, he's never trusted someone with his affection, or even had much affection to entrust to someone else in the first place. His vast amount of love had been crippled years ago, and while it still exists in Matthew, in Chainsaw, it's difficult for him to ease his grip and offer it to anyone else unless they've proven themselves somehow.
Adam doesn't need to do that. Adam has done that, but the lack of experience on Ronan's side makes it difficult for him to really know how to proceed without being patronizing on one end or clingy on the other.
He exhales slowly and forces himself to take a step back once Adam's hand has traced its way down his arm. Ronan catches it in his own fingers and gives them a little squeeze before he lets go and folds his arms low in front of him- not really closing himself off as much as he just wants to reach out for Adam again and doing so would just mean that neither of them would ever leave his room again.
So Ronan turns a half-step, levels his gaze on the instrument that started- finished?- all of this, his mouth set thinly. It's not overly large, but it is big enough to be a little cumbersome when all is said and done. Certainly not something that can really go unnoticed.]
So... what do you want to do with it?
[By which he means of course, that they can move it to Adam's room or keep it in Ronan's, or... figure something else out. What does one do with an instrument that no one can humanly play?]
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