#I want to hear the squash song and see ronan staring at Adam's hands like the freak he is

[h0ndayota]

Do you ever just think about how close we were to The Raven Boys TV adaptation and just-

[ronans-sepiaphotograph]

The sacrifices we make.

Also known as, my take on the TRK ending-ish after Blue kisses Gansey. I have hounded @ganseymaboi @91percentpynch @jostyardho about this for weeks so here we go. I'm so sorry but this is just pure pain and angst.

(TW for death)

He fell quietly from her arms.

He was a king.

Adam's heartbeat stuttered as he watched Gansey die. Something in his chest cracked open and broke. So this was what pain felt like when you lost someone you cared for so deeply. A sudden drop, a vicious blow and a horrific hollow that you left empty and gasping for air.

Adam stood there frozen, Orphan Girl's hand tightly held in his and Henry standing beside him as they watched Blue and Ronan crouched over Gansey. Ronan was crying, so was Blue but Adam's gaze flickered from Blue's bleeding eyelid to Gansey's dead body to Ronan's neck. He was responsible for all of those things. Blue's stitches, Ronan's bruises and Gansey's death from his vision from the dream tree.

It was after his snapping and Henry's prodding that he thought about the fact that they could ask Cabeswater to sacrifice itself to save Gansey.

Adam felt Cabeswater and the ley line flow through him like it always had, except now it seemed slower, weaker. Adam spoke, pleaded and begged to Cabeswater to save Gansey, to do something to save Gansey. He couldn't just let Gansey die. He signalled to Blue, wordlessly because they understood each other well and she spoke. Please, echoed Blue's voice all through Adam till it reached Cabeswater and it breathed in recognition. The tir e e’lintes. Blue was one of them.

Cabeswater breathed, the leaves rustled and water flowed and Adam heard broken Latin words before magic happened and Adam felt something happen, something he couldn't understand but he could feel it. The warmth beneath his skin and in his nerves, the weaving of something magical and Adam felt Blue and her sadness ram into Cabeswater and it didn't budge but absorbed it, weaved it into the patchwork quilt it was working on.

But then it stopped. Adam felt the line power down, felt it in his body, soul and all and he swayed but Henry caught him quickly, sliding his arms around Adam's body.

Blue and Ronan stared at him. Adam felt hollow, all over again.

Cabeswater?

Not enough, the trees spoke. Not enough.

It made sense to Adam that Cabeswater had lost itself because of the demon, or lost most of itself because of the unmaker itself. But without Cabeswater, there would be nobody.

To Adam, the choice was saving Gansey and Ronan or death, and he knew what his answer would be.

Not enough, the trees rumbled again, stuttering words. Not enough.

Adam gathered himself, thanked Henry. He let go of Orphan Girl's hand and pat her head twice, thrice for good measure. She tilted her head at him in question, wondering. It was a surprise she hadn't guessed Adam's answer yet.

"It'll be okay", he told her.

He looked at Henry, then at Blue who sat with Gansey's head on her and then finally braved to look at Ronan. He was barely ten steps away but now it felt like ten thousand, ten million even.

Not enough, he heard. Not enough.

I gave you my hands, I gave you my eyes, he replied.

The next moment, he saw Ronan gape at him because of course he heard it to. Ronan was getting up and Orphan Girl was telling in incoherent Latin beside him but he wasn't really paying attention. He saw Ronan dart towards him.

He closed his eyes.

I gave you my hands, I gave you my eyes, he replied. Now I give you all of me, to save all of them.

Magician, the trees roared. Somewhere five steps away, Ronan did too.

When he opened his eyes, Gansey woke up. Adam fell quietly, eyes staring into Ronan's as he fell, and kept on falling.

A king woke up from his sleep, another fell into it.

*

Ronan was late, he was so fucking late as he ran towards Adam but he was fucking late. The gravel crunched under his shoes as he ran, watched Adam fall like a raggedy doll and Orphan Girl scream loudly and Henry watch Adam fall.

Because it was Aurora first, Gansey next and now Adam. Ronan had thought he would have died before he watched Adam sacrifice his life but no, the fucking idiot had to do something like that.

Adam's head hit the ground, muddy water splashing across his cheeks and his hair turning a muddy brown from its dusty blond. Orphan Girl was wailing loudly.

Wake up, Atom, she screamed.

He's not going to wake up.

He was not going to wake up.

Ronan fell down on his knees. His chest hurt, so did everything but he couldn't bear the vision anymore. He wrapped his arms around Adam's wrist, desperately trying to feel something, something at least. But nothing, he just felt his fingers press into the wrist bone of Adam's hand.

He wrapped his arms around Adam's lifeless body, pressed Adam's head against his chest and let his tears fall on Adam's hair. And then he screamed at the top of his lungs until everything hurt a bit more and he couldn't yell Adam's name anymore. Henry crouched beside him, he was crying too. Orphan Girl was still wailing loudly, muttering periodic phrases in Latin.

Two palms pressed into both of his shoulders. Gansey had woken up, because of course he had. Blue sat on her knees, mirroring Henry. Adam felt cold, lifeless, light under his hands and Ronan felt colder, dead, heavy on himself.

"Parrish, you fucking idiot. You fucking idiot."

"Ronan-" Gansey began but his words fell short. He instead wrapped his arms around Orphan Girl, who had climbed onto his lap. One of Blue's arms was around Ronan's neck, the other on his arm which snaked itself around Adam's shoulder. She squeezed his arm, Ronan squeezed Adam's arm. Her head lay on Ronan's shoulder, choked sobs entering his ears.

"We should go", Henry said, voice hoarse.

The rain had subsided now, pouring in light drizzles now. They all got up, with Gansey picking Orphan Girl in his arms and she hid herself. Blue wiped her eyes and got up. Her hand lay on Ronan's elbow as he got up too. He slid one arm under Adam's knees and the other under his back and picked him up. His breath hitched when one of Adam's arms fell to the side but Blue quickly folded it across his chest.

Ronan dared look at Adam again. He looked asleep, peaceful even.

Peaceful and Adam Parrish just didn't go along in a sentence.

It felt like a cosmic joke, seeing Adam was so peacefully asleep.He didn't, couldn't bother to let go of Adam so Gansey slid into the driver's seat of the BMW with Blue in the passenger seat and Orphan Girl and Henry on either side of Ronan in the backseat with Adam's head tucked under Ronan's chin and his legs spread long across Henry's lap, who put his hands on them and stared blankly. They just sat in the car, Ronan didn't bother to care why they weren't moving.

Adam.

Adam.

Adam.

The ocean burned, the rain fell over it. It stopped burning.

He remembered making the mixtape for Adam's shitbox, remembered feeling warm at the mere thought of imagining Adam's face when the Murder Squash song blasted through the speakers. He remembered dreaming the lotion for Adam's chapped hands, and the way it smelled of wood and moss. He remembered the way Adam smiled, elastic and amiable.

"Wake up, Parrish."

"Your dumb fucking idiot. How dare you? How fucking dare you?"

"you can't just die on me, Adam."

"Adam, please."

He remembered the shape of Adam's hands, the feeling of Adam's palm against his, his fingers around Adam's wrist and their thumbs crossed over one another's. He remembered Adam in the hospital when he had lost his hearing, remembered Adam at the court facing his father alone because he didn't want Gansey or Ronan to find out.

He remembered him kissing Adam, and Adam kissing him and his name pouring out of Adam's mouth, honey velvet smooth. He remembered the warmth of Adam's lips, chapped and dry and the way Adam tasted of the coke they had had for dinner.

He remembered.

He kept on remembering.

How dare he forget?

He watched Orphan Girl tuck one of the blue dream flowers behind Adam's ear. He closed his eyes, dropped his head on Adam's till their foreheads touched.

"tamquam", he whispered.

He didn't hear anything back.

[pynches]

a/n bet you all thought i wouldn’t do it, huh? well i’m still feverish but i wrote this very fluffy thing so have fun!

word count: 1986

The little alarm on Adam’s bedside moving-box had just turned 2:21 AM when there was heavy knocking on his door. Granted, he had already been up, working on the English paper he had to submit the next day, but that didn’t stop him from getting annoyed that he was bothered at fucking almost 2:30 at night.

He still opened the door.

Ronan was dressed in full black as always, keeping him almost hidden in the dark of the hallway. Adam would recognise his form anywhere, though, and let him in without saying a word, stomping back to his bed where his old laptop was half-covered by the sheets he had thrown over it.

“In a bad mood, Parrish?”

Adam didn’t answer. Instead, he turned back to his half-finished essay and kept typing, his hands moving more furiously with every bored huff Ronan let out.

“You really are no fun,” Ronan said accusingly before letting himself fall back on the uneven wooden floor of St. Agnes, staring up at Adam from under his eyelashes.

Adam momentarily forgot his train of thought, every bit of the annoyance he felt before draining out of him. He could only stare at the shadows his long lashes casted on his sharp cheekbones. Then Ronan smirked sharply and the spell was broken. Anger rushed back into Adam, hitting him harder than it had before.

“Go then,” Adam sneered. “I’m not here to entertain you.”

Ronan raised his eyebrows in an unfiltered moment of pure shock before his walls rose up again and he went back to his casually indifferent self.

Despite Adam’s outburst, one he was already regretting but too prideful for to apologise, Ronan threw his jacket on the space next to Adam’s bed and threw himself on top of it. He immediately pulled his headphones from around his neck and put on his god awful music. Though the volume was lower this time, Adam could barely hear it over the soft hum of his laptop.

Instead of focussing on his essay, now that he had finally been given the chance, his mind was clogged with thoughts of Ronan and his considerateness. There was so much more to Ronan than what showed on the surface and at times like these, Adam didn’t understand why he ever hated him. Granted, that was at the beginning, when they had just met and Ronan was less than friendly to him. But now, with everything they had been through together and everything they would have to go through in the future, Ronan had softened up, though he would deny it if Adam ever brought it up.

Adam shook his head a little and refocused on the screen in front of him. He had to get this done now because he wouldn’t have the chance later. He had shoved school to the background already in lieu of searching for Glendower. The thought of not graduating, leaving this town and making something of himself tightened something in his chest.

He swiftly rubbed his eyes, feeling another pair landing on him. Adam looked up quickly but Ronan had turned away already.

And then there was the tumulus relationship or friendship or whatever it was with Ronan. His attention was not something Adam thought he deserved, but it got handed to him anyway. And now he doesn’t know how to act upon it. Deep down he had a feeling Ronan would never say it, not out loud at least. He did it through the hand-cream and the mixtape that was just the Murder Squash song played 12 times, or so he thought.

He listened to it once, when everything was too much and he was sitting in his car at night, trying not to cry about the money he didn’t have and the necessary supplies he couldn’t afford. He had expected the screeching noises that couldn’t really be called a song for the 13th time but instead a different song came on. It was softer with actual instrumentals instead of the techno stuff Ronan usually listened to. There was a man singing, not screaming, but actually singing.

It was about love.

Adam had started to look at Ronan differently after, but Ronan didn’t look back, not when Adam’s eyes were already on him. Somehow, whatever they had, felt like it was a secret they needed to keep, even from each other despite both of them knowing.

Adam was tired of keeping secrets.

Adam was tired in general. Just as he typed the last word of his essay, his eyes were starting to fall close. He handed it in quickly and closed his laptop, placing it on the box next to his bed, praying it would hold.

He climbed around Ronan, kicking him in the leg “on accident”. Ronan opened his eyes briefly to glare at Adam but went back to listening with his eyes closed almost immediately. He looked almost relaxed and much younger than he usually did. The sharp edges of his face were softened, even the harsh scars marring his eyebrow, his nose, his cheekbone, the scars that made him look that much more intimidating, were smoothed out until there were only faint lines left.

Adam averted his gaze quickly when he realised he was staring and went into his little bathroom to get ready. He washed his face, brushed his teeth, and dressed himself in some boxers and an oversized shirt he had found at Henrietta’s only second-hand store.

He kicked Ronan again on the way back, much like little boys pulled at girl’s pigtails in elementary school, though Adam would always deny that was the reasoning behind it. To him, he just liked fucking around with Ronan, pushing to see how far he could go before Ronan lost it.

Ronan never had.

Adam felt a sharp pang of pity and threw Ronan a blanket from his own bed, aiming it straight at his face. Ronan glared with a sharp intake of breath but he let it out and spread the blanket across his body.

As Adam laid down on his mattress, he was once again reminded at how close he and Ronan were lying together. There was not much height difference between the sunken-in mattress and the rotting floorboards of St. Agnes and Adam could almost imagine Ronan’s body heat on him. Not that he did imagine that, but he could.

Adam always had trouble sleeping when Ronan was so close, so he turned to the wall and let his breath even out. He tried his hardest to will himself into falling asleep, already having his too busy schedule in mind for the next day. There was work and then school, meeting with the others to search through another part of Cabeswater, work again, do homework after, wait until Ronan knocked again.

It just hit him then how much Ronan had become a part of his little routine. There was hardly a day that went by where Ronan wasn’t knocking at his door, searching for a way out of his never-ending nightmares.

Adam thought he heard a whisper, but he couldn’t be sure. Even with his hearing ear not covered, the sound was so faint Adam couldn’t be sure. So, he kept glaring at the wall, staying very still in case he would hear it again.

“Parrish?”

Ronan’s voice was soft but more audible now. There was something in his tone, something private and vulnerable. Adam had never heard Ronan sound this small. He waited, just to see if Ronan would speak up again.

He heard a sigh and then, “Are you still awake?”.

This would be the time for Adam to speak up, but he wanted to hear what Ronan would say in the safety of the darkness surrounding them. He wanted to know what secrets he would tell unconscious Adam even if it was a bit fucked up to do that to him.

Adam almost said something, almost turned around from the guilt bearing down on him, until he heard Ronan say something that made him freeze up completely.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Adam couldn’t hold the shuddering breath that was ripped out of him.

Ronan heard.

“What the fuck, Parrish?”

Adam turned around quickly, looking straight Ronan’s blazing eyes, his fury poorly hidden.

“I’m-“

Ronan threw his blanket off himself and gripped his jacket before he stood up and marched to the front door.

The sheets tangled around Adam’s feet when he rushed to go after him, nearly tripping him straight unto the floor. Once he got a holding on himself, Ronan was already half out of the door.

Adam quickly wrapped a hand around Ronan’s arm, pulling hard enough to turn him around. Ronan’s face was stone, his features carefully aligned so he looked more bored than upset. But Ronan’s eyes never really did hold a secret well. He wasn’t looking at Adam but his eyes were wide.

He looked scared of him.

“The fuck do you want?” Ronan asked, still not looking at him no matter how much Adam pulled on his arm.

Adam raised a quick eyebrow, still not letting him go. “To talk maybe?”

“Hard pass.”

Ronan tried to yank his arm away but he wasn’t even using half the strength Adam knew he possessed. He didn’t know if it was because Ronan didn’t actually want to leave or because he didn’t want to hurt Adam. For either he was grateful.

“Ronan, it’s okay,” Adam tried but Ronan’s eyes hardened to match his face.

“Is it?” Ronan snarled, this time ripping his arm away with success. He didn’t move though, instead was standing in front of Adam, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Adam tried not to let his eyes linger but Ronan’s eyes were boring into him and that was not something he could take right now.

“I’m not angry.”

Ronan let out a humourless laugh. “Oh, thank the lord.”

“Ronan-“

“Just leave it, okay?” Ronan said pleadingly this time. He looked so desperate, Adam almost let him off the hook.

Almost.

Adam stepped a little closer. “What if I can’t do that?”

Ronan seemed taken aback but held his ground. The vulnerableness returned to his eyes and Adam reminded himself to be careful. Hurting Ronan wasn’t an option.

Adam softly laid his hands on Ronan’s arms, spreading his fingers when he felt Ronan’s muscles jump.

Ronan stared at him quietly for a few seconds before he leaned forward slightly. Adam’s heartbeat picked up, thrills shooting up his back at the prospect of what was going to happen.

“Please tell me I’m not wrong about this,” Ronan whispered.

Adam closed his eyes.

“You’re not.”

And then Ronan’s lips were on his. They were unmoving for a split-second, just to process what finally happened. Then Adam turned his head and moved his lips, letting out a quiet sigh.

Ronan’s arms unfurled and wrapped themselves around Adam’s waist bringing him closer. Adam was holding onto his neck for dear life, brushing through his buzzcut with one hand.

The kiss was soft and careful, just like Adam was expecting Ronan to kiss. Ronan was laid wide open before him and Adam was not surprised at what he was seeing. He felt right at home instead.

They untangled themselves and laughed sheepishly.

“Should we talk about this?” Adam asked, brushing his rumpled clothes nervously.

Ronan smiled openly, brighter than Adam had seen before. “In the morning.”

Adam took Ronan’s hand and laid next to him on his flimsy mattress. There would be a lot to figure out; what to say to the others, how this relationship would work at all, what they would do when Adam was leaving for university in less than a year. But for now, Adam basked in Ronan’s body heat against his back and went right to sleep, smiling as he did.

[ravenslynch]

Boys Latin

So I wanted to add Boys Latin by Panda Bear to Ronan Lynch’s Mixtape but it seemed maybe like it would be more the kind of song that would remind Ronan of Adam or that Adam would somehow share with Ronan and it’d become theirs? Idek, whatever happened, I ended up writing this fluffy 1.5k explanation fic for this v specific headcanon - enjoy.

Adam first hears the song when his stoned hipster roommate, who’s name is Jack but who everyone calls Jeg for some reason, stumbles in late at night and says “Things are about to be realised. Let’s connect.”

Adam is all aches after a long day of hard work and hard study, always finding that the height of the desks compared to the chairs in the library leaves him cramped. He tries to do the mental arithmetic to work out how much of a dent Jeg is about to put in his oncoming battle between sleep and his existence this week. But thinking sort of aches too, so he gives up and resigns himself to it, knowing that losing this minor battle won’t lose him the war.

The statement itself is not an unusual one from Jeg in its vague pretentiousness or the oddly prophetic weight he gives the words or the fine line Jeg often toes between friendly sincerity and self-important irony.

Though he is sort of right this time.

He pulls out his MacBook from under his pillow, fumbling with it, making Adam’s stomach twist with his clumsy carelessness. Of course he has a MacBook, Adam thought when he first saw it. It’s covered with aesthetic decals and skate stickers that never fail to remind him with a twang of Noah - or who Noah had been, or who he should have been able to be - but at least he’s generous with it when Adam’s temperamental secondhand laptop starts acting up.

Jeg stumbles blearily onto Adam’s bed and into Adam’s space, curling up beside him, the comfort gremlin that he is, and probably causing Adam’s sheets to reek of weed again. Jeg is liberal with touch and seems to feel that all space is communal space. Although, while he does talk a lot of shit, he can actually be quite sweet and occasionally does come out with some interesting tidbits about anything from the tenets of Anarcho-communism, to the failures of Dogme 95, or the surprising nutritional and environmental impact of rice production and how rife it is with arsenic. He also shares memes with Adam constantly, which are something he’s only had scant contact with outside of Murder Squash hell up until this point, and which Adam is slowly getting the hang of. And its nice to have a friend around, even if Adam doubts he’ll ever feel anywhere near as close to him as Gansey or Blue or Noah or Henry. Certainly not Ronan.

The first time Ronan smelt green on Adam’s sheets he quirked an eyebrow at him and said “Why Parrish, I didn’t realise how many plants you got down and dirty with these days without Cabeswater taking you for a joyride.”

Adam, hazy around the edges with sleep, and latent stress, and the proximity of his boyfriend with that unreasonably sexy smirk on his face, his very sprawl across Adam’s bed a distracting taunt, said “It’s not me, Jeg’s been rubbing himself all over them.”

Which, yeah, admittedly wasn’t the best way to go into that explanation.

Ronan had tensed, Adam had backtracked, soothed, clarified.

“So he just gets into your bed, just like that.” “Ronan, he’s just a goddamn golden retriever with a philosophical streak. He’s like a tactile, blazed beagle who likes to howl right in my ear. Thankfully not always the right one, he hasn’t quite worked it out yet and I’m not gonna help him.”

Adam may have deliberately smudged his accent a bit, may have ghosted his fingers along Ronan’s arm and tangled them with his own, in order to defuse the situation. It may have worked.

Alhough Adam still sighs at the inevitable look he’s going to receive when Ronan catches Jeg’s signature sheet-stink again.

“That sigh is an overture, man, this is the real shit, the good shit, get ready for it to hit us into orbit.” Jeg tells him sagely.

Adam isn’t sure what that means until it starts.

Jeg has YouTube open, and while the name Panda Bear rings approximately zero bells for Adam, the song’s title Boys Latin piques his interest. And as Jeg makes the video full screen and hits play, that starts to hit home for him too. It’s not a forest, but he can’t help but think of Cabeswater. Of Cabeswater pulling at him, changing him, as the guy on the screen is altered by his surroundings, his skin merging with the ecosystem. As he finds another guy who’s tied to this space too; who tangles with him. As they pull a child out who’s been hidden away, trapped there, and walk off into the sunset together, hand in hand.

And the song. The song itself is oddly haunting. Repetitive and electronic, its somehow nothing like Ronan’s music but seeped in it all the same. A smoothed-out, softer, dreamier iteration. The chanting feels like scrying, putting Adam in a trance, words half registering and then growing in impact as they’re sung again and again and again.

Beasts don't have a sec' to think, but We don't 'preciate our things, but Dark cloud descended again Has a dark cloud descended again? And a shadow moves in

There’s something so familiar in them. Nostalgic and dreadful and lovely and aching and impalpable and supernatural and significant.

When it finishes, Jeg closes over the laptop. Catching the look on Adam’s face, whatever that look may be, he nods with altogether too much gravitas and says “The. Real. Shit. We’re reborn together, man. Fucking Panda Bear. Goddamn. I feel raked over, like I just listened to Feels for the first time, you know? Goddamn.”

Adam doesn’t know. What Jeg means specifically or what is going on in general. But it’s something. Something is solidifying right at the heart of Adam Parrish to the sound of the song that’s still whirling around Adam’s head.

“He’s a goddamn king, I’m telling you, man.  God but you should listen to his earlier stuff too, like Mr Noah. ‘Cause that’s his real name. Noah. And Animal Collective. Strawberry Jam is my jam, dude-“

But Adam’s still stuck on Noah. His name is Noah. He has a song called Boys Latin. It sounds like some deep iteration of a closed off piece of Adam’s unknowable psyche. And the video, to Adam, reeks of Cabeswater and Ronan and Opal.

It sticks with him for days. For a couple of weeks. How uncannily it all aligns into the perfect constellation.

It’s when Ronan drops by in his BMW and takes him out for a meandering drive through the nearest fields he can find that Adam asks “Do you mind if I put on a song?”

Ronan, looking curious at this, nods.

And then the song fills the car, as loud as the sound system is nearly permanently set to, winding its way around them both and leaking out their rolled down windows.

Adam can’t help but watch Ronan to see if it makes impact. Biting his lip for a second when it does.

(And Ronan can’t help but watch this Adam, swaying slightly to the beat, hair blowing just so in the wind like the music is caressing him on its way out into the world. He can’t help but take a moment to absorb and catalogue this incarnation of Adam Parrish, looking unguarded and so very at home in his skin.)

They both sit hypnotised for a moment. Then Ronan asks “What is this?” “Boys Latin. By Panda Bear. Did you know his name’s actually Noah?” He asks, even though both of them were unaware that there was an artist to know this about until the song came along.

Ronan hums at that. Then he’s pulling in at the side of the road. Then he’s tugging at Adam, arranging them forehead to forehead, staring at Adam’s hands in his.

“I appreciate you.” Ronan says, quietly, Adam just managing to catch the words.

He squeezes Ronan’s hands, and says “I know.” He let’s his nose nudge against Ronan’s and breathes out “I appreciate you too. I really do.”

“This song…” Ronan trails off, and it’s Adam’s turn to hum. “It sounds…” “Yeah.” Adam says. “It does.”

Ronan looks up then, eyes startlingly clear, and Adam feels too much, feels it spilling out of him as the melody loops and loops. He surges forward as Ronan does too. He tastes salt and flesh and need on his tongue, and he can’t help but nip at Ronan’s lips. Can’t help but push deeper. Can’t help but clasp Ronan’s face between his hands, as Ronan groans softly. Can’t help but feel dizzily centred and understood and so much more than he ever thought he could be.

When he pulls back, long after the song had lapsed into silence, he doesn’t let go. “I knew you’d get it too.” Ronan raises one hand up to feel along Adam’s knuckles, still pressed against his cheek. “It sounds like you.” “It sounds like us.” Adam replies.

Ronan presses his lips against Adam’s once more, for a few delicate seconds, that seem to loop and loop once more, before he pulls back.

They slowly make their way back to campus, hands clasped together over the gear stick, and Adam still aches but he aches better.

[hartbound]

a little bit easier ;

ronan / noah, for @jinglekeith .

1.2 k + words, rated teen and up, post the raven king. 

( read on ao3. )

It’s Christmastime; a moment to take time off of work for family, to bristle yourself in the cold then invigorate yourself in the warmth of a fireplace that licks the snow off of your chattering teeth and clammy hands, which are interwoven with your best friends.

It’s Ronan’s least favorite time of the year.

It’s not that he doesn’t mind a cup of hot chocolate (with some shots of bourbon), a commercialized holiday with cheap songs (it reminds him of Murder Squash), or being able to binge his skinny torso and youth on Christmas cookies. He just hates the meaning of it all, besides the Hallmark goodness: family.

Obviously his biological family is out of the ballpark, who are currently probably sipping champagne and chortling at some joke that wouldn’t make Ronan laugh—a civilized, funny tale about a golfer instead of an Aglionby boy falling down the stairs and knocking his front teeth into his mouth so that he looks like Count Dracula. Either that or they’re hosting some elegant party full of people they distaste only to receive presents they don’t deserve nor need due to their bountiful amount of money that Ronan loves to waste.

Certainly, he doesn’t want to see Declan. Need he go further into that? Matthew, he’ll drop by to see. He’s already got an irresponsibly and dangerously wrapped pocket knife which he’s already sat on twice in the leather seat of his car… Maybe for his present to himself, he’ll buy himself a touch-up.

No, this holiday isn’t about Ronan as much as he wished it were. This holiday, he’s going to spend it drunk with his friends (the drunk part as per usual, but this time he needs the latter).

He heads out to his car, squashes Matthew’s gift for the third time that day, and heads over to deliver it to him. They share a hug and he gives him a signature hair ruffle, commenting on how long and curly it’s gotten along with the orthodox “you’ve gotten so tall,” before heading to the store. He returns to the barns an hour later, manages successfully not to squish all of the gifts he’d gotten (which, to his credit, were relatively fragile and well-thought-out), and settles in the couch with a beer in his hand.

He flicks his wristband instead of biting it to the downbeat of ‘All I Want for Christmas Is You,’ instead of rubbing the grease from where Adam and he had held hands along his tongue. Besides, the acrid taste of beer lies there.

Things don’t go horribly.

After the so-called party dies down (Gansey calls it quits from Blue’s dancing, and Orla and Helen get a bit too into it and try and have sex on the couch next to Adam unbeknownst to him), Ronan wanders back to his car and drives back to Monmouth Manufactory with his boys and Blue, a title which he thought was very clever. He makes them listen to a dubstep holiday version of the Murder Squash song, which Adam is too woozy to attest to, which he’s pleased about.

He ushers his boyfriend to bed, pets his hair and prays that he doesn’t get up to throw up before he can return. He leaves a trash bin by their bedside just in case.

He hovers around, mulling since when he approaches Noah’s door he hears soft talking. Blue’s murmuring to him, telling him about how the party went, and she looks grateful for the lack of disturbance when she exits ten minutes later. She’s wearing the stockings that Ronan gifted her, and the pink glitter from the scrunchie he’d unironically bought her but she’d ironically loved glimmers in her hair. She offers him a hearty pat on the shoulder, stumbling past him with a brush of her lips against his stubble against his jaw that he probably should’ve shaved for the occasion. It’s comforting, and he takes a deep breath before stepping into Noah’s room.  

The room is untouched save for Blue’s times laying in his bed and from the dents of the pillow which Ronan nearly tore between his hands in anguish when he first disappeared, and the room is as cold as his seven-year-old… Would it be eight or nine years now? Time didn’t matter, anyways. He was still gone.

The taste of beer is bitter on Ronan’s tongue once more and he wishes he hadn’t chugged so many bottles of it before coming here. Well, there’s the toilet waiting for him and his tears after this.

Except this time, Ronan doesn’t want to cry. He clears his throat awkwardly and looks around the room, still seeking out his presence or a trace of his lemongrass scent as he toes the door closed with his polished shoe.

The only light in his abode is the Christmas lights Blue insisted they put up, which Adam helped with. However, they got sidetracked and lay tangled but lit in the corner, traces of their gingerbread cookies lingering around them and crunching underneath Ronan’s boots.

“Hey, Noah… Or, the Ghost of Christmas Past.” Ronan starts awkwardly, cringing afterward at his joke, but his heart leaps into his throat when he hears Noah’s tinkling laughter, with cackles and belly-clutches an everything in his ears. He’s hearing things, but it doesn’t matter because of the flush of warmth to his cheeks and the way his shoulders sag.

He plops himself down on the creaky bed that never moved for Noah, lays his head in his usual spot where the indent is and stares into the spot where Noah’s would’ve been. They used to huddle nose-to-nose when Noah was materialized enough, and there’s a tiny divot in the cot where his delicate body used to rest.

Ronan misses Noah so much it aches.

“I brought you a snow globe.” He whispers, his voice grating and Ronan can’t bring himself to hate himself for it. He’d gotten over that long ago; there would always be more tears for his fallen friend. This time, that won’t be the case. Or, there would be, and he would fire his therapist for all of the coaching and training he’d done for this.

He turns around adds it to the collection on his bedside, shuffling them around to plop his newest and biggest addition to his other gifts, which now in sum make up seventeen from all of his travels. He can never resist indulging in the ghost whenever he sees a cheap snow globe, no matter the fact that a year has passed since his evaporation.

His chest throbs with pain, but he sighs shakily and it dissipates, like the arms of the angel wrapping around his waist and squeezing him against his concave chest.

The door cracks open, and Adam rasps his name. The smell of alcohol hits his nose and he sits up quickly. “Did you throw up?”

Adam is silent, too proud to admit he’d gotten sick on Christmas Eve. He wobbles by the door but still allows him to have his time. Any normal boyfriend might be jealous of his dead friend and the complicated relationship they might’ve had, but not Adam. He’s thankful for the gift of not being able to move on, despite its pros and cons.

He sits up and swallows before standing, the damned bed screeching protests underneath him. He turns and stares at the snow globe, which has the glitter turning around the polar bear on its axis. He remembers Noah’s smile and mimics it, before wrapping an arm around his boyfriends’ sinewy waist. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

He closes the door, just like he always does. Every time, it gets just a little bit easier.

[thebest-medicine]

Problem Solving

submitted by Negligible!anon:

A/N: N shared some wonderful TRC headcanons earlier, which inspired me to write this… a fic based on completely unrelated headcanons. Anyways, this is how I think the Raven Boys discovered each other’s ticklishness. Warnings for book-related levels of (anticipated) violence.

***

Ronan

Ronan and Gansey have been friends for a couple months now, so Gansey’s been invited to the Barns once or twice. More importantly, he’s met the rest of Ronan’s family, including the charming and roguish Niall Lynch - Niall Lynch, who spends his nights dreaming wonderful horrors into existence and his days embarrassing his kids in front of their friends.

Gansey remembers the incident clearly, mostly because it’s such a stark contrast to Ronan after. Niall reminds Ronan to check on the cows before sundown. Ronan, pulling his Aglionby tie off and shoving it into his pocket, replies sure, I’ll check on Declan later, if he’s not too busy mooing at some girl on his phone. Niall laughs affably, reels him in with a friendly arm around the shoulder, and launches into a devastating tickle attack until Ronan apologizes amid peals of laughter. He’s still giggling as Niall claps him on the back and wanders off, telling the two of them to stay out of trouble.

Gansey tucks the thought that the most contact he’s had with his parents in years is a quick handshake very firmly into the back of his mind and gallantly offers an elbow to Ronan, who shoves him in the shoulder with another laugh and sets off for the barn.

Months later, the unthinkable happens.

Ronan comes to stay in Monmouth, and for two weeks it’s as if he’s doing his best to sink into his mattress and disappear. Seeing how miserable he is, Gansey’s almost inclined to let him. At the end of those two weeks, though, he pries open the door to Ronan’s room and goes in. He can’t just let things go on like this – Ronan’s grief is another problem to solve, and even if he doesn’t know how to do it he doesn’t know how to leave it be either.

His presence sets the entire room in motion; empty beer bottles rolling from where the door pushed them aside, the sound of his bare feet on the floor echoing with each step, light forcing through the doorway. Ronan, however, emanates stillness; he’s flung facedown on his mattress, an empty shell of that laughing boy at the Barns. “Get up, Lynch. We’re going for a drive.”

Ronan’s response is an emphatic middle finger, jabbed unerringly at Gansey’s unprotected ankle. Gansey sighs and uses his foot to prod at Ronan’s side. “Don’t argue,” he says, trying to wedge his toes under Ronan’s body – maybe he can flip him over? “it’ll be fun.”

A muffled sound emanates from the pile of lean limbs on the floor. Gansey’s brain, caught up in wondering how much Ronan weighs and how much of a fight he’ll put up if lifted into a fireman’s hold, belatedly registers it as a yelp.

Ronan rolls over before things go any further. “Fine,” he says, eyes still closed. “I’ll be ready in ten. Now get the hell out.” And that’s that.

Ronan gets better. But his laughter is unmistakably bitter now, and his smile is a hook designed specifically to draw in people as angry at Ronan as Ronan is at the world. Gansey still doesn’t know how to solve that, so he focuses on the smaller things. Getting Ronan to sleep. Convincing him to study for tests. Talking him down from fights.

And, every so often, he tries to get Ronan to smile. Usually under the guise of getting him to do things – “why don’t we compare Latin homework?” accompanied by a series of pokes to Ronan’s side to get his attention, and “don’t sleep on the couch, you’ll hurt your neck,” as he swipes a finger up Ronan’s sole. He never does it in a way that draws attention, never tries to provoke a stronger reaction than what he gets, and never when Ronan’s in one of his more dangerous moods. He’s afraid that if he crosses whatever ragged line he can infer from Ronan’s response, it’ll stop working. But for now, he’s usually rewarded with a squirm, an upward tick of Ronan’s mouth, and in his more optimistic moments he likes to think that it’s enough to remind Ronan that someone cares about him.

Adam

Adam’s been friends with Ronan and Gansey for almost a month when he figures it out.

He’s eating lunch with them on Aglionby grounds, under a lush tree that probably eats up more money in fertilizer and water than Adam spends on clothes in a year. It’s been a long morning in a longer week, and once again Ronan’s decided to say something that turns his dull anger into something sharp and sparking.

Luckily, Gansey’s around to play white knight. Eyebrows furrowed, he leans toward Ronan and says something too quiet for Adam to hear. And then – so fast he almost doesn’t notice – he nudges Ronan in the side.

He’s seen this before. A nudge. A flinch. The flicker of a smile on Ronan’s face, stealing the harshness of his stubbled head and harsh features away for a few precious moments. But here, with the dappled-green sunlight rendering the two boys across from him almost otherworldly, is the first time it really clicks in his head.

Ronan Lynch, pugnacious Aglionby student with no regard for grades or dress codes or other people’s feelings, is ticklish.

He doesn’t plan to do anything with that knowledge. Ronan would probably punch him, and even the thought of that is enough to dissuade him. But somehow, forces beyond his control compel him to do something stupid. As usual.

About a week later, they’re all stuffed into the Pig, headed off on one of Gansey’s day trips. Gansey, as always, is at the wheel. Ronan’s snagged the passenger seat, which leaves Adam and Noah in the back. Unfortunately, this gives Ronan control over the music, and he’s chosen to abuse his power by playing the murder squash song for the fifth time in a row.

Gansey’s already asked Ronan to play something else and drifted off to Glendower-land with a disappointed sigh when his request was refused. Noah’s been staring out the left side window since they left, sun and shadow swirling over the half of his face that Adam can see. So it’s just him, teeth gritting and blood pounding in his ears every time another scream blares over the speakers, and Ronan, arms curled up and around his headrest as he lounges.

He doesn’t want to start a fight for no reason, so he decides to ask Noah first, gently shaking his shoulder to get his attention. “Should I do something?”

Noah turns his head, inscrutable as ever. He eyes Ronan, then Adam, and grins unexpectedly. “Go for it. It’s been a while since Ronan laughed.”

Adam blinks. So Noah knows Ronan’s secret too? Huh.

His crusade justified, he returns to the task at hand. “Lynch. Lynch! Change the song, or I’m going to make you.”

From what he can see in the rearview mirror, Ronan doesn’t even bother to open his eyes. “Yeah, good fucking luck with that.”

Well. Adam shifts forward, takes a deep breath, and makes his move.

Exposed in his tank top, the hollows under Ronan’s arms make for a pretty good initial target. Especially when Ronan shouts, yanks his arms down, and starts laughing so hard that he’s wheezing for breath.  There’s a terrifying moment where Gansey starts in surprise and almost swerves the Pig straight off the road, but Adam’s gone too far to stop now and when Gansey’s eyes catch his in the rearview mirror his expression is somewhere between shock and approval.

Ronan isthrashing, long legs hitting the dashboard as he tries to escape his seatbelt and Adam’s torturous fingers. He doesn’t beg – not that Adam expected him to – but the relatively tame curses leaking out amid his cackling are proof that he’s weakening.

“Change the song,” Adam says as firmly as he can through a smile so wide he can feel it stretching his face, “or I’m going to keep using you to drown it out.”

“Fine,” Ronan shouts. Adam pulls his hands away and grimacing, wipes them on his shirt. Ronan slumps back into his seat, reaching out to cut off the murder squash song mid-scream, and for a few moments the Pig is filled with blessed silence.

“Gansey, pull over.”

Gansey’s proud-parent smile disappears. “I’m not going to stop so you can threaten Adam for acting on behalf of the rest of us.”

“Pull over or I’m getting out of the car right now.” Ronan’s hands tighten on his seatbelt buckle and the door handle, and Adam suddenly can’t breathe. This was a mistake.

He wonders, abruptly, if he can shift any of the blame onto Noah for enabling him. But he knows better than anyone that nothing he says will matter here.

Gansey pulls to the shoulder of the road, warning, “Don’t do anything stupid, Ronan. I mean it. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

It’s not like that matters either, Adam thinks miserably, but at least he’s fairly sure that Gansey won’t let Ronan kill him.

Ronan stalks around the front of the car and knocks on Noah’s door. “We’re switching places, Czerny. Don’t play any of that weird pop music shit.”

Noah nods and calmly gets out. He smiles happily at Adam. Adam can’t bring himself to smile back.

Ronan’s gaze meets his for a single instant, and Adam closes his eyes.

Ronan thumps into the seat next to him. Fastens his seatbelt with a scowl. Leans back, eyes fixed firmly on the back of Gansey’s headrest. “You can start driving now. See, nothing stupid.”

“Thank you,” Gansey says, and the Pig sputters back to life. Adam couldn’t be closer to the door on his side if he was welded to it.

Five minutes later, Ronan uncrosses his arms. Adam watches in confusion as his hand comes closer. Ronan’s index finger moves to rest exactly where the seams of his shirt meet under his arm, and he’s too rattled to do anything but watch as Ronan prods at him repeatedly. A giggle escapes, half relief and half actual ticklishness, and as Ronan smirks he knows he’s screwed in an entirely different way than he first expected.

It takes twenty minutes until they reach their destination, and Adam’s breathless with laughter the entire time.

Gansey

It doesn’t change anything. They’re not less likely to snap at each other, they don’t try to tickle each other out of bad moods because neither of them have the kind of problems that a little laughter can cure.

But whenever Ronan’s half-hearted attempts to distract Adam or Gansey from homework get a little too out of hand, Adam doesn’t hesitate to grab whatever limb is nearest, haul Ronan into a rough approximation of a pin, and start wiggling his fingers into sensitive skin. And Ronan makes it a point to unceremoniously wreck him every single time in return, and a few more besides. At least Adam’s stopped looking at him like he’s going to start ripping throats out if anyone so much as pokes him the wrong way.

It’s on one of these occasions, Ronan looming over Adam on Monmouth’s dusty floor, that Adam gets curious. “Hey, wait – wahahait! I don’t understand – how come you never get Gansey back for tickling you?”

Ronan barely pauses, squeezing right below Adam’s ribs and grinning at the resulting yelp. “Gansey’s not ticklish, Parrish. Unfortunately for you.”

“H-how did you figure that out? What did he even say? ‘I appreciate your testing my nervous system, but you can’t possibly think I’m susceptible to your childish weaknesses?’”

It’s a good imitation of what Ronan likes to think of as Gansey’s Dick the Third accent, and it’s only when he tries to answer the question that he realizes he’s overlooked something. “Never actually tried it.”

“Wait, what? You got me back within, like, the first ten minutes.”

Ronan’s always figured that Gansey would never start a fight he could possibly lose. It’s never even crossed his mind that Gansey too could be reduced to a breathless, giggling heap like he and Adam (and Noah, sometimes, though half the time it’s like he’s not ticklish at all). But instead of saying that to Adam, he turns abruptly to Monmouth’s single couch, where Gansey has neatly arranged himself.

He’s on the phone with his sister, ankles neatly crossed and one arm pillowing his head as he nods thoughtfully at something or the other. Ronan gestures watch this at Adam and drapes himself over the back of the couch. “Hey, Dick, I’ve got a question for you.”

Gansey holds up a finger to quiet him, the kind of unintentional imperiousness that makes Ronan really hope that he and Gansey share this particular trait. “It’s a yes-or-no question. You don’t even have to say anything.”

Gansey shrugs and gestures for him to continue. Ronan smirks.

“Are you ticklish?”

Gansey actually flinches. He recovers quickly, shaking his head emphatically and giving Ronan a prohibitive look for good measure, but he really should know better than to think that’s enough to stop Ronan now.

He deploys a single finger to poke at Gansey’s stomach, covered today by an offensively magenta polo shirt. “Oh, good. I’d hate for this to disturb your phone call.”

Gansey bites out a broken stop it as Ronan keeps teasing him, reaching down to catch Ronan’s wrist with his free hand. Over the phone, he can just make out Helen asking a question.

“No, Helen, nothing’s happening-” Ronan raises an eyebrow and waggles his other hand at him tauntingly, and Gansey, blushing, abruptly tells Helen he’ll have to call her back.

Gansey hangs up and opens his mouth to say something, but Ronan’s worked both his hands free now and the only thing that comes out is laughter.

“Rohohonan – whahat – hahahnoho!”

“Thank Adam,” Ronan tells him, rucking up his polo shirt to get better access to Gansey’s torso. It’s lean from rowing practice, but, to Ronan’s delight, that doesn’t make him it any less susceptible to a light scratching that has Gansey in stitches. “He pointed out that I’ve never actually tickled you, which means you have a lot of payback due.”

“That’s not what I said,” calls Adam. He’s grinning, though, happy that Gansey is happy and that he’s not the one under Ronan’s hands today, and Ronan finds his mood rising to match.

Gansey, halfway to hysterics, is an absolute mess. He’s curled up around Ronan’s hands, not that it helps him any, and his golden hair is mussed beyond repair. Still, he hasn’t asked Ronan to stop yet, so Ronan’s not inclined to show him any mercy just yet.  

He remembers having brothers. This, somehow, is even better.

[ravensandthings]

On Silent

Based on this prompt by @mad-the-swine

“so I like to think that every Sunday when Ronan goes to church, he thinks about stopping by to see adam but never does because maybe sundays are the only days the garage is closed and he can get some sleep for once, and then one day as the organist is playing in mass he realizes that adam must be able to hear everything, there’s no way he could sleep through it. So one day he dreams some noiseless headphones and leaves them outside adam’s door, and well-rested adam starts smiling more after that”

Thank you so much for submitting i looveeed this idea, you’re so creative!!

This is 1,714 words, pre relationship

He was so close.

Just for fun, Ronan tried to calculate the distance in feet between him and Adam during mass. The distance in yards, inches, meters.

Shuffling brought him out of his daydreams. The service was over, people were getting up to leave. A certain distinct part of Ronan became thrilled.

Maybe he could do it today. Maybe he’d casually stop by Adam’s scrappy appartement on this bright Sunday, he was in the area anyway, right?

As Ronan walked out of the old church building, he looked up to where he knew Adam lived and sighed. He wouldn’t go to Adams, he never would on a Sunday morning- the only day Boyd’s was closed and Adam could even attempt to sleep in. Adam needed the rest.

With a deep breath and a considerable amount of restraint, Ronan walked by the door of Saint Agnes’, saying a simple prayer to whoever would listen on behalf of Adam’s well-being.

Thinking about seeing Adam tomorrow made Ronan excited about the start of the school week. The fact that someone could do that to him was more than uncomfortable but also more than thrilling. Just twelve hours more.

In deliberate nonchalance the next morning, Ronan flopped down into the chair beside Adam’s, hardly sparing a glance his was. Hardly holding himself back from looking more.

Adam’s eyes were sunken it and glazed, not in the classroom or aware. Disheveled hair and sustained blinks were all the clues Ronan needed.

“Sleep much Parrish?” He pried with carefully disguised concern.

“Hm?” Adam looked to Ronan for the first time that morning, revealing the full vacancy of his expression.

Ronan found himself struck with an unfounded feeling of anger. Of course a few hours extra of sleep wouldn’t really change much. He just wanted better for Adam. How dare sleep in Sundays not help this boy more?

Ronan had been staring and Adam hadn’t been awake enough to realize, when Gansey arrived in class wearing some horrible new boat shoes that disgustingly matched his Aglionby uniform.

Ronan cracked a joke that Adam didn’t catch and Gansey reprimanded Ronan for his lack of preparation for class. Ronan didn’t care. He had one reason for coming to school this morning, and that reason was currently a sleepy dead man walking.

A bell rung, class began and Ronan couldn’t stop think about Adam. Wondering about the dark rings under his eyes and how to change their existence. Why didn’t thoes few extra hours of sleep make any difference for Adam? Ronan avoided him after church just so he could catch up on sleep-

Wait.

Church. Maybe that was it. Of course. It had to be. The church’s organ was scarcely well played, never well receive and always incredibly loud. And at seven thirty every Sunday morning, it began blaring some underrehearsed hymnal right below Adam’s room.

No wonder the extra hours asleep did nothing for Adam- he wasn’t getting them. Ronan couldn’t blame him; who could sleep through those atrocious sounds?

Fuck the organ. Fuck the organ player. But this was good. At least Ronan knew the problem, that meant he could dream away to stop it.

Ronan dreamed without sound.It was disorienting to be cut off from the senses within his own head.

He saw Adam. They were, both of them in the forest, but Adam was laying down on that shitty mistress from his apartment. He was tossing around, holding hands to his ears.

Ronan sat in the edge of the bed, next to the restless Dream Adam. Still, Ronan couldn’t hear a thing. Adam sat up and looked st Ronan- his eyes glassy with this dream world. Reaching his hands out, Dream Adam brushed his fingers by Ronan’s ears.

Shivering unwillingly, Ronan watched as Dream Adam pulled solidly black earbuds from Ronan’s ears. Sound came back at once.

“Oh,” Ronan mused, “I get it.”

Ronan took the headphones from Adam, savoring the way their fingers brushed in the exchange.

Following the thin headphone cord to his pocket, Ronan found them connected to a solid black cube, printed with simple white letters, reading:

ABSOLUTE SILENCE

Perfect.

It was Saturday night before Ronan finally found the guts to bring the noise eliminating gift to Adam. He had to bring them tonight so the church organ wouldn’t wake Adam in the morning.

He pulled up into the gravely parking area of St. Agnes’s, noted the absence of Adam’s shitbox and opted to wait in the hallway outside Adam’s door.

Ronan stretched his legs out strait in front of him, back against a wall of peeling paint. He put the dream buds into his ears and closed his eyes.

Almost, Ronan thought, he could dream like this. This particular brand of silence was like a blanket, protecting whoever experienced it from whatever pain and noise existed outside of it.

Ronan started when he felt a gentle kick to the side of his knee. Ripping the soundless ear buds from his ears, he looked up to see Adam Parrish, messing with the apartment key before unlocking his door.

“Sleep much, Lynch?” He smirked. Adam had the sleeves of his blue coveralls tied around his waist, white tee shirt hugging his chest in a way that forced blush to Ronan’s cheeks. He got up and followed Adam inside, deciding to have some fun.

“Listen to this new song I found Parrish?” Ronan said, meeting Adam at his desk where he already stood looking over the weekend’s homework.

“Ronan I swear, if you’re talking about the Murder Squash song-” Ronan cut Adam off by bringing the headphones to the boy’s ears.

Ronan held his hands over Adams ears, thumbs along his jaw bone. Ronan told himself this action was necessary in order to ensure Adam didn’t rip the buds away, but in actuality, Ronan wished he could hold Adam’s face like that all day.

“I don’t hear anything!” Adam said, a bit too loudly. Ronan hesitantly removed his hands from Adams face in order to dangle the connected ABSOLUTE SILENCE CUBE by Adams face.

Ronan smirked and Adam laughed. This reactions supercharged Ronan’s state of being. His stomach felt light and his eyes felt on fire.

Ronan reached to take the ear buds from Adam, wishing to make some snide comment he hadn’t thought of yet. Ronan was saved the trouble of figuring out some witty remark when Adam grabbed his hand.

It seemed like maybe he would swat it away, but Adam just kept his fingers on Ronan’s palm, thumb on the back of his hand

“I like you better on silent.” Adam joked, adjusting his voice to what he probably thought was a normal volume but just came out low and undeniably sexy. Adam still held Ronan’s hand in his own.

Touch was electric.

Breathing shallow and heart thoroughly wrecked, Ronan stumbled away from Adam in an awkward tornado of too long limbs. Adam caught Ronan by his left arm, took out the ear buds and laughed.

“So, standing? Were you skipping school the day that was covered?” Adam quipped.

“Fuck off Parrish.” Ronan snapped, but he made no move to leave Adam’s grasp. Standing was one thing, standing in the presence of Adam Parrish was another.

They both smirked. Adam headed to the shower leaving Ronan with the soundless headphones and the dimming light in the room.

If he stayed, Ronan knew what would happen. He’d try to kiss Adam, he knew he would. It was just one of those nights where Adam was extra irresistible. The firework touches didn’t help.

Ronan resolved to go home. He left the soundless earbuds on Adam’s pillow and quietly left.

Sunday was torcher. All through mass, Ronan could only hope Adam was getting the extra sleep he needed. What if he didn’t notice Rona had left the headphones, or just disregarded them all together? Adam was used to Ronan’s accidental dream creations, maybe he thought nothing of the ABSOLUTE SILENCE creation.

The urge to stop in at Adam’s was stronger than ever but Ronan tore himself away from the church apartment buildings and prayed for a well rested Adam.

When Ronan entered his first period class the next morning his eyes went strait to Adam as they always did. He looked slightly more at ease and aware of his surroundings. Adam jerked his head in greeting as Ronan walked in, even smiled at him for the seconds before obnoxious classmates began to fill the room.

This time, when Ronan commented on Gansey’s strange style choices, Adam laughed and ignited the electricity in Ronan from that weekend. He felt on top of the world, like he was finally doing something worth any amount of time put into it.

Adam seemed better during class, he smiled more, his notes were more organized. Ronan was sure he was imagining it but it seemed like Adam kept stealing glances his way. Even the possibility made Ronan soar.

After class, Adam held back until Ronan was ready to leave. They walked out of the room together into the already emptied out hallways. Adam stopped before heading out of the building to his next class.

“You’re gonna be late Parrish, the entire faculty with shit their pants if-”

Ronan couldn’t continue, not with Adam’s mouth pressed against his own, Adam’s fingers gripping his uniform tie.

Adam leaned against Ronan with his whole body and Ronan felt he would melt into the wood paneling behind him if he didn’t hold onto something. He gripped Adam around the waist and closed his eyes.

Ronan couldn’t be sure if this was real or not. He needed to remember it forever, he needed to understand what was happening in his brain.

“Adam,” was all he could manage to say.

Adam pressed one more kiss onto Ronan’s mouth.

“For the record,” Adam began simply, “I don’t like you better on silent.”

Ronan laughed even though he didn’t have the breath for it.

“Even when you’re being and asshole.”

Ronan smiled against Adam’s check and kissed him there without thinking before bringing their lips back together.

Really, if all Adam need was a few extra hours of sleep to be interested in this, in him of all people, Ronan figured silent headphones were a small price to pay.

[ronans-sepiaphotograph]

Adam Parrish, going home to the Barns for summer and Dogs:

It's Adam's second summer after he's gotten into Harvard. He going back to the Barns, with Ronan since he insisted because "Parrish I haven't seen you in months you better believe I'm coming to pick your smartass".

So that's how a while back, Adam finds himself in the BMW, all of his Harvard belongings in the trunk and Chainsaw dozing in the backseat. He is surprised Opal hasn't come with him.

"Where's Opal?" "The little runt was misbehaving" "Ronan" "I didn't tell her, it's a surprise" "oh"

Ronan's laugh makes his heart flutter like a hummingbird, as he watches Ronan drive. The weather is comfortable, with the green blur behind Ronan. Adam takes a moment to drink him in, the blue of his eyes, the sharp curve of his jaw, his buzzcut and of course the tattoo creeping out of his leather jacket.

"Stop staring at me Parrish" "I like looking at your face okay?"

Ronan blushes, the colour of his cheeks matches the pink hue of the sky. Adam smiled, places his hand on Ronan's on the gear stick.

They drive in silence. Adam is surprised that Ronan isn't playing the Murder squash song. He ponders whether something is wrong.

"I didn't think you'd want to come back"

Adam is shocked to hear the whisper of Ronan's voice as they make their way to singer's falls, to the Barns, to Home.

"Ronan, why would you think that?" "I don't know, you have a life there. You have smartass friends like you, all nerds and destined for greatness and I'm just, me" "Lynch you're being an idiot" "am I Parrish?" "Yes because I didn't goddamn leave for Harvard permanently you fucking asshole. Yes I wanted to leave Henrietta forever but you, you have given me to reason to stay. And I'll always come back, until you don't want me to. You, you giant idiot are the reason I come back, that I want to come back because I love you, if that's wasn't clear before. And yes I will leave at the end of summer again but I'm pretty fucking sure I'll make time to come back and stuff my mouth with turkey and cranberry sauce. I have a home at the Barns"

Adam swallows, he doesn't realized he's yelled at Ronan until Ronan stops the car and just stares at him. He doesn't want to fight, ever. But he's Adam and he's Ronan, they're bound to. Adam pokes a finger in Ronan's chest and quietly whispers "I have a home here, Lynch" as he feels his cheek become wet

"I love you too, Adam. Like a bee loves a flower, like the soil loves the rain, like the stars love the moon" "Of course, I almost forgot that you're a farmer boy, my farmer boyfriend" "shut the fuck up I'm not a farmer boy" "Sure"

They reach the Barns as Adam gets out and takes a moment to absorb all of it until he hears the hooves running and Opal crashes into him, Ronan smiling softly at them while Chainsaw caws in agreement. Laughing, he picks her up as she sobs and nuzzles into his neck.

"Hey Opal" "Et vos desiderabat, Adam" I missed you, Adam. "I missed you too, I'm here now all yours until the summer ends" "really?" "Yes, really"

She kisses both of his cheeks, before grinning at him and running off. Adam watches her and Ronan exchange whispers before she runs into the house.

Adam showers and changes into comfortable clothes, and sees Ronan sitting in the bedroom. They kiss lazily in the bed, Adam getting lost in Ronan's lips as Ronan's hands find their way on his waist, Ronan's fingers warm on his bare skin.

They make dinner together. Ronan is excellent at making pasta and meatballs and Adam doesn't mind watching Ronan cook, it's very adorable seeing Ronan in an apron cooking while he curses as usual.

They stay up till midnight, after Opal has disappeared to sleep and Adam has unpacked to some extent and they're officially done for the day. Adam rambles about stars and constellations as Ronan tangles his fingers in Adam's hair. Adam stops as he notices him doze off.

Adam wakes him up and they tumble into the bedroom, tired limbs and stomachs full.

That night, when Adam sleeps, his back pressed close to Ronan's chest, he prays to whatever God, big or small that Ronan believes him. Please let me get to keep this boy, all of shattered and healing edges, he prays in silence, I know I'm leaving again but I promised him that I would come back. Again and again and again because I was homeless and he made room in his heart for me. He clutches Ronan's hands tighter. And I want him, I need him as long as he'll have me and I'll love him until I die, he prays, hoping he's heard.

Ronan sleeps soundly that night, not waking up once. Adam counts that as a win as he wakes up. The other side of the bed is empty and Adam knows Ronan must've gone to do his daily chores. Before he can open his eyes, he feels his cheeks being licked.

He shrieks as we wakes up and opens his eyes.

THERE'S TWO DOGS

Two golden retrievers, hopping and jumping around him on the bed. Adam is shocked as he bursts into laughter and starts petting the dogs.

They plop down on the bed, tongues doing a blep and tails wagging as Adam scratches their belly. Opal and Ronan come in later, grinning from ear to ear. They sit beside him, joining him in petting the dogs.

"Who are these Lynch?" "Cinnamon and Butter"

Adam laughs. Cinnamon has a pink collar and Butter has a blue, so Adam assumes it's a girl and a boy.

"Are they-" "Jesus fuck no, I adopted them. Few months ago, the little runt is basically their mother"

"I'm not their mom Kerah!" Opal huffs as she coos at the dogs. They don't look very old, they're probably a few months at most, Adam thinks.

"Do you like them?" "So much that I want to take them with me" "fuck no" "why?" "Now you have one more reason to come back"

Adam rolls his eyes. He doesn't tell Ronan he's the only reason, the reason enough to come back. Ronan probably knows this.

Adam carries the dogs in his hands, they're a handful but he manages. He's fallen in love with them in an instant. Adam wants to cry seeing that they've managed to doze off in his arms, in a matter of few minutes.

He sits with them on his lap, Opal watching him with heart eyes as Ronan makes breakfast for them. He runs his fingers through their soft, fluffy and golden fur as Opal just watches, her head on Adam's side and arm locked with his.

She's missed me so much, he realises. How she look at him, never letting him out of sight, as if he'll disappear. No wonder she came out of Ronan's head, they're practically related, Adam laughs privately.

Ronan calls them for breakfast and it's just Adam who's awake by the time they get up. Even Opal had managed to fall asleep. The dogs wake up and run towards the kitchen, bumping and knocking furniture.

Adam follows them. He sees two food bowls on the floor as Cinnamon and Butter eye them and begin munching.

"I'm your boyfriend Parrish, not them" "I think you're mistaken" "asshole" "I'm leaving you for Cinnamon and Butter"

Ronan throws pancake at him as Opal just laughs in her chair. Adam grins and Ronan huffs before pressing his lips to Adam's. Adam smiles. Ronan tastes like maple syrup and mint toothpaste and home, home, home.

Ronan's a lovely shade pink by the time they've pulled apart.

"Now who's your boyfriend?" "You make a good point Lynch"

Ronan grins, sharp yet soft at Adam, his boyfriend. His boyfriend. Adam takes his pride in calling Ronan his and Ronan calling Adam his, and nobody else's.

They take a walk around the Barns, Ronan's hand in his and Opal and the dogs running around the fields. They both sit under a tree, with the dogs napping on their laps as they watch Opal make something with twigs and wildflowers.

She places something on both of their heads. The sight of Ronan Lynch in a flower crown is enough to give Adam a heart attack. Ronan glares but the tips of his ears are red and he carefully removes it and keeps it aside before he lies down too, his head on Adam's lap.

"I'm going to play, you're both boring" Opal huffs before running away. Adam knows she'll be back by the evening. Adam sits quietly under the blue sky, the rustling of the trees evident in his ears and the smell of flowers and earth and moss. He missed Cabeswater, he knows it wasn't his, but he was Cabeswater's. He feels the faint thrumming of the leyline and almost, almost feels Cabeswater.

He chooses to instead watch Ronan, who's napping adorably with Cinnamon on his chest and his hands around her as Butter makes himself comfortable on Adam's lap.

And this, Adam muses. This is what coming home feels like.