#Or maybe: Ronan and Declan to the left and their baby Matthew on the right

[cailleachcaine]

This feels unwise.

[pynches]

through the years we will be together (if the fates allow)

a/n this is a gift for @mletart for @pynchpromptweek Secret Santa! I hope you like it! summary: The Lynch brothers do Christmas caroling together to uphold the brotherly bond after their parents passed away. It so happens to be that Adam lives at the church they frequent at. The Myth of the Brothers Lynch become a reality when Adam finally meets the middle one.

word count: 2571

ao3 Adam had never seen them, he had tried many times to catch as much as a glimpse but his job at Boyd’s lined up with the mass times and he was always a little too late. Once, he thought he saw the edge of a BMW turn around the corner but he had waved that off. “Good boys” as the attendees had said, didn’t drive cars that were shark-nosed, all edges and brute force.

“They sing like angels,” one old lady told Adam. She attended church often, burning a candle sometimes. Adam wondered who she had lost, if she was the only one left standing. He almost wanted to ask if the angel metaphor was blasphemy but he held it in at the last moment and politely listened instead, the key to his apartment still in hand. “Especially the middle one.”

“Ronan,” Adam said helpfully, nodding his head in recognition. He had been so mystified by the brothers that he had absorbed every bit of information about them like a sponge, trying to piece everything together and create clear images of them.

He never quite succeeded.

“You must come to mass,” the lady said, her watery eyes looking up at Adam hopefully and Adam had politely declined though it cost him great hardship to do so.

“I’m not religious,” Adam said apologetically and stayed to listen to the lady’s story about the grandson she never really saw because he went to study abroad before Adam finally went up the stairs and let himself into his apartment.

The Brother’s Lynch, now a tangible subject in his mind, took residency in his thoughts for the remainder of the day, the week, until it was Sunday again and Adam was home for once.

Boyd had called Adam to him a few days before, telling him that he had to take some vacation days or he would breach the contract he had signed the year before. It so happened that one of those vacation days was that Sunday, since it wouldn’t be too busy at the shop that day anyway.

And thus, Adam was at the window on Sunday, peering through the slightly cracked glass to try and catch the eye of the brothers.

He watched as the shark-nosed BMW appeared again, followed by a much more boring car, parking next to the BMW. The first guy that got out was one that looked like he was the poster child for bad behaviour. Shaved head, tattoos that curled up from his shoulders and around his neck, peeking just above the black suit he was wearing, the tie artfully undone.

Next came another guy out of the more boring car, a displeased frown already set in his eyebrows. He wore a gray suit, everything perfectly in place. Adam wondered if the perfection was compensating for something.

Then, the last guy, which Adam expected was Ronan, the one with the nice voice, the “very kind boy” as one of the old ladies had whispered to him. Golden curls, a sweet smile on his face, an excited jump in his step as he entered the church.

Adam didn’t go down but he snuck out of his apartment and sat on the stairs, hoping to catch one of their voices. He wanted to learn the magic behind the sound, understand why everyone, including him, had been mesmerised by the brothers.

He didn’t hear a single one stand out, all of them combining too much to notice the ‘angelic’ ones the woman had told him about. Adam wished he still had his other ear in use, thinking that perhaps he would be blessed with the heavenly voices of the brothers if his father hadn’t beaten the hearing out of it.

Disappointedly, he stood again and moved upstairs to his little apartment, sitting down to study as he had done a hundred nights before and would continue to do so until the very end.

It wasn’t a half-hour later when he heard a single voice, moving below in the heart of the church, the voice echoing off the wall. Adam quietly tiptoed down and peeked around the corner. He was too entranced by the voice at first to notice the person singing. The musical notes and the quiet timber of it made Adam wonder if the church was built for the sound instead of God. But then he saw the figure and his heart momentarily stopped.

Shaved head, eyes sunken into his head, was he sleeping enough? Perhaps he was an insomniac as Adam was as well, by choice or not was the question. The suit jacket had been shrugged off and laid over one of the benches. His dress shirt had been rolled up his arms, exposing the boy’s pale forearms, scarred and vulnerable looking. Adam could distinctively see two hooks etched into the sides of his neck, the black ink a stark contrast against the whiteness of his skin.

This must be the youngest one Adam thought. He wanted to go up, introduce himself but he was too scared to. The boy was not only taller than him but significantly stronger too. Adam didn’t exactly feel fear but he didn’t want to take any chances either.

He barely noticed the singing had stopped before the boy was in front of him and Adam’s heart stilled in his chest. “Who the fuck are you?” Adam was asked who immediately went into defensive mode.

“I live here,” Adam said with an annoyed pull of his lips. He wondered why the ladies had said they were ‘good boys’. This one seemed anything but.

The boy’s mouth opened and closed, the spell on his hardened eyes momentarily broken and he looked so much younger immediately. “Oh, I didn’t know.”

Adam swallowed and nodded before his everlasting need for approval reared its ugly head. “Adam Parrish,” he said, knowing how ridiculous his name sounded in a church of all things. The boy, Matthew, Adam presumed, seemed to realise as well and smirked a little. Adam wished he didn’t find it as attractive as he did.

“Ronan Lynch,” the boy replied and…

Oh.

Oh.

“You’re not Matthew?” Adam asked and he immediately realised how stupid he sounded. He also realised his hand was still in Ronan’s, pleasantly warm under his soft skin.

“That would be my baby brother,” Ronan answered and cocked his head. Adam didn’t dare to tell him that it made him look like a confused puppy. “Why would you think I was Matthew?”

And here Adam was, standing in front of the most dangerous-looking boy with the most beautiful voice he had ever heard, tongue-tied and all. “The ladies who come here told me Ronan was the nicest of the brothers and well…”

“Matthew looks like a golden retriever personified,” Ronan helpfully added. “We’re all aware.”

Adam bit his lip and finally released Ronan’s hand. It took him everything to not immediately start running. He would have if he didn’t also want to tell Ronan how nice his voice was and, more importantly, leave a good impression for whatever reason that might be.

“Your voice…” Adam started and cleared his throat. “It’s really nice.”

He walked away after that, hating himself for coming up with ‘nice’ of all things. As if that wasn’t the lamest thing he could have said to the hottest person he had ever met in his short and sheltered life. You didn’t often find people like him in little Henrietta, Virginia and Adam blew it completely.

Adam could hear the soft laughter of Ronan echo against the walls again, following him up into his room. It was a quiet and surprising thing, fleeting like the birds’ wings on Ronan’s neck.

Adam dreamt about Ronan that night. Perhaps he truly wasn’t real but just a myth his mind had helpfully added a face to. But it couldn’t be, Ronan’s hand had felt so real in his own, warm and soft, the comforting touch of a mystical stranger.

Adam looked out the next day but Ronan was gone. It wasn’t a surprise, he didn’t think people that drove such cars actually slept in churches but he still felt a deep sense of disappointment that nobody was waiting for him downstairs, singing a beautiful song in greeting.

Adam got back to work the next Sunday and though he rushed back to catch a glimpse of the brothers, or, well, Ronan, it was to no avail. They were gone, carrying their voices with them.

The days flew by, the weather got worse. Adam was cold more often than not and in those freezing days where he could only pace up and down his small apartment to gain some warmth, he remembered the touch of Ronan’s hands, their palms pressed together, Ronan’s finger lightly touching his racing pulse.

“They have a habit of Christmas caroling,” one of the ladies, Dorothy, apparently, had told him with a wink as if she knew Adam had been looking out for them. “They do it every year, it keeps the brotherly bond alive.”

Adam thought Christmas caroling only happened in cheesy Christmas movies but he had thanked her and kept Dorothy’s words to heart. He made sure to finish all of his homework before sitting down on his bed on Christmas eve, eyeing the door with nervous anticipation. He belatedly thought of the possibility they would only carol at the door of the church, not of his apartment. Still, he held the hope that Ronan would remember their conversation and attempt to sing for him.

Though Adam had hope, he didn’t actually expect a knock on his door. He turned the doorknob with a shaky hand, his stomach fluttering with nerves.

Before him stood three brothers.

Declan, his expression stoic, his suit black this time with a tie that looked as if it was made by someone artistic, snowflakes and Christmas trees decorating the red and green background. The tie greatly contrasted what Adam had thought was his personality. Maybe he wasn’t as boring as he portrayed himself to be.

Matthew, all golden curls and happy smiles as he sang, his head bobbing a little with every note, his eyes squinted to feel the music more. He was as he seemed, cheerfulness evident in every word he sang.

And then there was Ronan. He was dressed in all black, not quite right for Christmas eve but it fit him, Adam could tell even though he didn’t truly know him. The scar on his lip pulled a little when he sang, the sole focus point of Adam’s sight until he suddenly remembered he had been staring at Ronan’s lips with fascination and looked up again. His eyes met Ronan’s pale blue ones. It reminded him of the ice he always wished he could skate on but never could afford.

Ronan smiled while he sang, he could tell from the crinkles around his eyes. Adam couldn’t help but smile back and applaud a little when they were done.

“You deserve every praise you get,” Adam told the brothers. Declan nodded in appreciation and squeezed Ronan’s shoulder.

“He really is nice,” he said, smirking a little as Ronan’s cheeks turned red, his expression affronted that his brother dared to expose him like that. “Ronan forced us to sing for you.”

This time it was Adam’s time to blush, unable to meet Ronan’s eyes so they fell on Matthew instead who looked ecstatic. “I think you’ll make a lovely brother in law.”

“Matthew!” Ronan yelled and Matthew laughed as he dragged Declan down to ‘give them some privacy’.

Adam finally looked up to Ronan again and tugged a little on the sleeve of his suit jacket so he met his eyes again. “I’m glad you came here.”

“You are?” Ronan asked, sounding as if he expected Adam to slam his door in his face. Adam could sense the hope in Ronan’s eyes and, hell, it was Christmas Eve . This was the night for miracles and taking chances, for spending time with loved ones that Adam didn’t have but if he played it right, he could have exactly that next Christmas.

Adam thus nodded and ran inside to get a pen, writing his phone number on the palm of Ronan’s hand, the light blue almost the colour of the veins that ran underneath his skin. “I want to get to know you better, maybe you become less of a myth in my head.”

Ronan’s laugh sounded like bells and Adam couldn’t help but grin back, strangely proud that he made the boy with the wonderful voice laugh like that.

“I don’t use my phone a lot,” Ronan confessed but protectively curled his fingers around the phone number anyway and Adam knew he was going to call him.

“See it as a Christmas present to me,” Adam replied and Ronan’s lips pulled in a smirk, leaning closer to him as he spoke his next words.

“And what is my present then?”

Adam rolled his eyes, somewhere between exasperated and amused, knowing that he would be walking that fine line more often with Ronan. “A date?”

Ronan’s cheeks flushed a little again and he nodded. Adam cheered inwardly. “Deal,” he replied as if they were in some kind of business meeting. He briefly frowned, having realised that himself too.

Adam wanted to tease that he was more like his brother than he was probably willing to admit but he kept his mouth shut to ensure he would still go on that date.

“Deal,” he replied softly instead and watched as Ronan finally turned to leave, looking back one last time at him before going back into the cold. Adam watched Ronan push Declan and ruffle Matthew’s hair before getting into the shark-nosed BMW and driving off, the pristine snow still lingering to its exterior.

The myth of the Lynch Brothers didn’t end there but next Christmas, Adam was in on it too. He didn’t carol, it was something for the brothers alone. Instead, he comfortably sat on the worn couch of the Barns, sipping hot chocolate with Chainsaw, Ronan’s raven, her beak comfortably pressed into his neck, waiting for the brothers to return.

With them, the Lynches brought warmth and joy, a liveliness that Adam had missed in those years alone. It wasn’t before long that they came barrelling through the door, Ronan curling up next to him, one arm around the back of his shoulders as they retold where they had been caroling, how the old ladies of the church wished Adam a happy Christmas.

And Adam did have a happy Christmas, more so than he ever experienced before. He was surrounded by people he cared for more than anything and finally understood what the true Christmas spirit was about. Love, joy, and most importantly, spending time with your family, be it born or found.

[withthewerewolves]

So I was laying awake last night thinking about a Yours, Mine, and Ours pynch au. Ronan and Adam break up like maybe Adam's sophomore year of college, when he doesn't come back to the Barns for Thanksgiving or something. Adam tries to date, but if he can't make time for Ronan, he definitely can't make time for anyone else. Ronan doesn't even try. He knows he'll never love anyone like he loved Adam.

Adam starts volunteering with a foster care group in college sort of by accident. Volunteer work looks good on a resume and they happen to have an opening. Something about it settles something in him though, so he keeps doing it all through his engineering degree, law school, and his internship at the patent office. He plans to stop once he's got his full time job as a patent lawyer, but that's when he meets Maria.

She's maybe five. Fresh out of a pretty serious neglect situation, but luckily there's no evidence of abuse. She's deaf though, and there aren't a lot of foster homes who can deal with that. Adam, who has always been terrified of losing the hearing in his other ear and so took sign language as an elective all through college, is uniquely equipped.

Usually it's hard for a single young man to foster, but he's been volunteering there for nearly a decade so they fast track him through the process. At first it's hard and Adam thinks he's made a terrible mistake, a commitment he can't live up to. He has to learn to make time for someone else, to put his job second. He passes up a promotion to take a lateral transfer to a job where he can work from home. Maria doesn't know how to ask for what she needs, because she isn't used to getting what she asks for. Adam doesn't know what a child needs, because he never got it. But he applies himself to child care with the same dedication he gives everything. He does research.  He asks questions. He patiently builds trust and learns to anticipate her needs. She begins to thrive, and he thrives with her. The thing he was most worried about, his anger, doesn’t come up for a while. The first time he gets really frustrated with her, he has a panic attack before he can do anything, good or bad. The second time, he applies the anger management techniques he learned from his therapist, and he keeps his temper.

A couple years later, when he’s started working on adopting Maria, a set of twins comes in, James and Jessica. They're 16, each work two jobs, and have been trying to pay rent and buy food for themselves and their mother while she drains the bank account to fund her drug habit. They are not happy to be in foster care, refuse any and all help, and Jessica is out and proud, something which restricts their choices of foster home even in DC. They're about to be sent to a group home when Adam catches a glimpse of them in the hallway at the foster care center and sees a glimmer of magic in them. He isn't sure what kind yet, but he has a spare room and figures he can at least provide them with more than he had as a teenager. He has to tell his supervisor more about his past than he’d ever wanted to, but between that and how well Maria is doing under his care, they come to live with him.

He decides, two weeks in, that maybe what he had as a teenager was not enough. They're exhausted, they’re malnourished, they're failing school, and he can only sometimes get them to eat out of his fridge, much less accept the new clothes they so badly need. He calls Gansey and apologises for how difficult he used to be. Gansey is caught between “you were perfect, always” and “used to be?” Blue laughs until Adam hangs up on her, then calls back to apologise for laughing and admit she has no advice. He wishes he could call Ronan, who always knew how to handle Adam when he was a broken thing, but they don't talk anymore. His therapist has encouraged him to let himself experience his emotions, so he allows how much he misses Ronan to well up inside him for 30 seconds, then he does what he does best and gets to work.

He starts with packing lunches every day, one for Maria, one for James, one for Jessica, and one for him. He labels them and leaves them on the counter in the morning. The first two mornings, he has to throw James’ and Jessica's away. The third morning, when he gets back from walking Maria to the bus stop, the lunches are gone. He makes more of an effort to plan and cook meals, not just dinner but breakfast and afterschool snacks. A dry erase board with the week’s menu takes up residence on his refrigerator, with a section at the bottom for requests. Maria requests a lot of hot dogs. At first, the twins insist they'll eat on their way to work, or at school, even though he knows they'll just go hungry. He grimaces his way through scraping the leftovers into the disposal, a matching expression on their faces. They eat with him and Maria. He has to put his foot down about the jobs. No more than 20 hours a week during the school year, and they have to be home by 10 on school nights. This leads to the worst stand off yet, and he calls his supervisor at the foster care center to beg for advice. She tells him that if anything he should be more strict, so he holds firm. The dark circles under their eyes start to fade. He institutes a study hour, during which everyone is required to sit at the table and work on homework. Maria puzzles her way through long division with his help, and the twins sit in stony silence. College is not the escape for them that it was for him. They’re plenty smart, but their skills lay in other areas. Adam has a folder in his office with research on every trade school in the state. Finally James cracks, and pulls out his chemistry homework. The next night Jessica brings reading for english. Neither of them ask him for help, but their grades start to rise, and he’s satisfied with that. He wishes they had friends, people who meant something to them besides each other, but he doesn’t know what to do about it, and that is when Gansey calls to invite him to his and Blue’s wedding.

~O~

Ronan’s path to parenthood is similar, for all that it’s completely different. He has Opal, but her needs are so unlike that of a human child that she hardly counts.  She doesn’t eat food, and nothing seems to make her sick. She has a bedroom, but she sleeps in the woods or with the goats most nights. Her bed becomes a repository for interesting sticks and globs of mud. She ages at a rate that even Adam, who won’t speak to Ronan but still sends Opal a letter every week like clockwork, can’t figure out. Some years she seems to be growing the way the parenting book Gansey got him as a joke thinks she should, and some years she doesn’t grow at all. He thinks she was maybe six when he brought her out of the dream, and he thinks she’s maybe eight or nine when , nine years later, he finds a teenaged boy sleeping in his barn.

Keith is 17, and informs Ronan that he has run away from home and will not be going back, please don’t call the cops, he’ll be on his way as soon as the sun is up. Ronan doesn’t hear any of this because he’s spotted the deep bruise around Keith’s eye and is caught in a vivid flashback. He offers him a job, helping him milk the cows in the mornings before school in exchange for a bedroom and as much food as he can eat. This turns out to be a lot of food. Keith reminds Ronan of Adam at every turn, even though they’re nothing alike. Keith is sunny and friendly and more similar to Matthew, if Matthew flinched every time Ronan raised his voice. Ronan learns not to raise his voice. Opal is suspicious of him at first, but he treats her like a tiny boss even after he catches sight of her hooves, and this delights her. She orders him to collect the eggs three times a day, despite the chickens only laying them once.

Ronan finds Liam on his front porch one summer night, wrapped up in a blanket and dumped in a cardboard box like an unwanted kitten. People have learned that he takes in animals that are left at the Barns, and he’s converted one of the barns into a cat jungle after he reached his limit on mousers. He doesn’t know how it got out that he’s taking in stray children, but a baby isn’t exactly a puppy that got too big (is he a baby? A toddler? How is Ronan supposed to know?). Declan would tell him to send him to social services right away, but, well, Liam has magic. Not dream magic. Nothing like the psychics. Maybe a little like Adam, but he doesn’t think about that. The cows hate Liam, but all the other animals will come over and snuffle his hair and let him jab his little baby fingers in their faces. Birds perch on Ronan’s shoulder to inspect him in the baby wrap Ronan dreamed so he could cart him around the farm. He only found him that night, rather than in the morning, because fireflies clung to every available space on his little body, a beacon of flashing lights.

Ronan is pretty well at the end of his rope and not in the mood for more problems when Keith brings Laura home from school one day. She’s a year younger than him, and the rumor is that her parents kicked her out when she told them she was pregnant and she’s been living in the woods. Keith, being the friendly, helpful, maybe a little nosy sort, tracked her down and asked her about it. She told him she’s actually been sleeping under the bleachers in the gym, but the rumors are otherwise true. What’s Ronan going to do, turn her away? Then he has to hire her boyfriend, who’s an alright kid for all he forgot to wrap it. He grew up a few streets over from Fox Way, but even though his parents are supportive and loving they can’t afford to take in his girlfriend and their future baby. The boyfriend and Keith become fast friends. Laura takes over the vegetable patch.

So this is how Ronan goes from having one dream child to having four children and a grandkid on the way in the space of a year.

Then Blue and Gansey decide to get married. It’s a little bit the result of their desire to solidify the legality of their relationship and a little bit the result of Mrs. Gansey’s desire not to have her son living in sin as she starts her governor campaign. They decide to let Mrs. Gansey plan an extravagant church wedding exactly the way she wants it, as long as they don’t have to do anything besides show up, and to plan a smaller, more meaningful wedding for themselves at the Barns. They decide this kind of last minute, and Gansey calls Adam in a panic, begging him to come down and help them get everything ready. (Sidenote: Gansey and Blue argue for weeks about who gets Ronan and who gets Adam as their Best Man/Maid of Honor. Finally they realize that they each sort of want both of them and sort of want the other to have both of them, so they flip a coin. Blue gets Ronan and Gansey gets Adam. Henry was always going to perform the ceremony, because he was always going to be a part of the marriage.)

So Adam takes two weeks off work, packs his brood into the car and takes them to his ex boyfriend’s magic farm to plan a polyamorous wedding for his best friends.

Adam’s kids and Ronan’s kids...do not get along. Some of it is that they each think their dad is the best dad. Some of it is that James and Jessica think Keith and Laura have had it easy out here in the idyllic countryside and Keith and Laura think James and Jessica have had it easy because they’ve never milked a cow. Some of it is just that they’re teenagers and they’re expected to get along, so they stubbornly do not.

Opal and Maria hate each other on sight because they each know, through Adam’s letters to Opal, that the other occupies a special place in Adam’s heart that they would like to occupy alone. Opal eats the leg off of Maria’s stuffed dog. Maria starts teaching Ronan sign language. Points are scored and lost by both parties.

Liam, of course, falls head over tiny baby heels for Adam. The sight of Adam effortlessly calming a child that Ronan has been trying and failing to win over for months makes rage well up in Ronan’s chest, and also makes him want a cold shower. Ronan’s careful attention on Maria’s small hands as she teaches him the basics do something similar to Adam.

(Calla shakes hands with James and Jessica and gives a harsh bark of a laugh. Maura later explains, with a little more tact, that Jessica is a mirror, like Blue, and James is a dampener. They’ve been canceling each other out their entire lives.)

Adam and Ronan fall back in love, obviously. Neither of them ever really fell out of it. Adam can work from anywhere with internet now, and James and Jessica never made any friends at their old school, so what’s keeping them in DC? (Maria had friends, but Maria can make friends anywhere. She’s good at that.) Adam makes blissful plans to move himself and his kids to the Barns. Ronan makes blissful plans to build an addition and fill his house with even more family (one of which can calm Liam).

The kids are not pleased and resolve to break them up before Blue and Gansey say their vows. The probably bond with each other in the process. Maybe Keith’s parents make a reappearance and Jessica and James help beat them up. Maybe Laura starts freaking out about having a baby and Jessica offers her expertise (one of her jobs is babysitting). Maybe someone says something racist or ableist about Maria and the others defend her. Maybe Opal and Maria bond over popsicle stick crafts.

They all definitely live happily ever after.

[treebananas]

Hey y’all this is my Pynch Present 2017 for @fingersnapchaos Hope you enjoy!

Ronan hated Christmas time. He loved Christmas day and Christmas Eve, but he hated the days leading up to it. The shoppers. Thinking about what to get his family. The relentless, pop music. It was terrible.

For someone who could make the impossible possible like himself, gifts could be endless. He hated the pressure of having to think of the best gift ever year. People expect since he can dream anything, he should give the best gifts, but they are always tremendously disappointed when all he gets them is socks and a candle. Ronan is more of a spontaneous gift giver than is holiday gift giver.

Considering how bad he is at holiday gift giving, he really hoped Adam liked his present.

He laid in bed staring at the specks of dust on the ceiling. He could hardly feel his fingertips of the back of Adams t-shirt and the puffs of breath against his cheek. It was Christmas morning, a morning that should feel magical and smell of pine. This morning; however, was nothing of that sort. Anxiety leapt up his throat; his heartbeat a complete mess. He couldn’t think straight, and his vision was blurry. This was not a good start to Christmas.

The smack of lips were a more present sound. They were louder and could be heard.

“Why are you thinking so loud?” Adam whispered, voice still husky from sleep.

Ronan sighed and turn to press a kiss on top of Adam’s head, “It’s Christmas.”

“Yeah, merry Christmas.” Said Adam.

Ronan sighed again and shuffled to look at Adam. He stared at Adam and was captivated by his bare, unguarded face. The bags under his eyes hadn’t changed; they were still deeper than the depths of hell. His freckles were still mixed into his sepia skin, but somehow this Adam was different. He was more open and had gallons of trust shown in his expression.

Ronan managed a small, genuine smile.

Adam had no choice but to return it, “There’s my beautiful boyfriend.”

“Don’t call me beautiful Parrish.” Ronan scoffed, pushing Adams face away, but keeping his hand of Adams cheekbone.

“Just calling it as it is, baby.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,”

“How ‘bout you call this!”

The two boys jumped each other, kicking and tickling their way to the top. Adam was able to maintain a solid ground before Ronan took him by the middle and flipped him. The two settled laughing with Ronan on top of Adam, foreheads pressed together.

Adam bore into Ronan striking blue eyes, “I love you.”

All the tension had left Ronan’s body, “I love you too, baby.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas!” A voice shrieked.

The voice came with a small body knocking into the couple, tangling with them. Ronan locked into the Lynch blue eyes he shared with Opal. She was bouncing up and down on the bed, barely containing her excitement. She kept on chanting Christmas, Christmas, Christmas.

Adam smiled and kissed her on the cheek, “Merry Christmas, Opal.”

“Come on, Matthew and I made breakfast.” She said, dragging them downstairs.

“Then, it better not taste like nature shit.” Ronan complained.

“It doesn’t!”

The first person who Ronan saw in the kitchen was Declan. The two were really trying to have a good relationship, not just for Matthew anymore, but for each other. Their relationship was still strained, but they could be in a room together without getting into a fight.

Declan was on the phone with someone, probably one of his most recent conquests.

Conquests? G-d, Ronan was spending too much time with Gansey.

Declan gave a small, smile that quickly turned into a frown, “Helen, no! You could not defend someone like that. It’s too close to home…I know, I’m not trying to control you. You know what, do what you want.” Then he turned to them, “ugh, I’m gonna have to call her back aren’t I?”

Adam snickered, “You’re the one who is voluntarily dating Helen Gansey.”

“Poor, big brother with his relationship issues.” Matthew piped up from the kitchen. “You know I would feel bad but I’m there everyday when you come home and don’t see that I’m home because you’re attached to her face like a parasite.”

“You say that as if I wasn’t home two days ago when you were with Austin. I had to get earplugs.”

Matthew blushed as everyone laughed. Ronan clapped him on the shoulder and pulled Adam to the kitchen table. Declan followed them and sat down with his head in his hands.

“Damn, she’s really got a hold on you.” Ronan said.

He lifted his head, “I’ve never felt like this before.”

Maybe I should stop calling their relationship a conquest. Ronan said, “Then you’ll be fine.”

“I know,”

“Good,”

“I don’t mean to break up this very touching moment of my two eloquent brother, but I got a hot steamy breakfast and I doubt you’re gonna wanna miss it!” Matthew called.

@ @ @

“Presents!”

Adam laughed, “Okay, okay Opal.”

She continued to squeal looking at a small-ish box, “This one’s for me!”

She tore open the wrapping and looked inside the box, “A box of bark from Argentina from Aunt Blue and Gansey! It’s just what I wanted!”

Ronan’s family laughed together. They continued to watch Opal damaged that wrapping paper bit by bit.

“I can’t believe she calls Gansey Aunt Gansey.” Matthew giggled.

“Hey, can I give you your present?” Ronan said to Adam aside.

“As long as you let me give you yours first.” Adam smirked.

Ronan shakingly nodded. Adam reached behind him to the Christmas tree and picked up a neatly wrapped present. Adam grabbed one of Ronan’s hands as he opened it. Inside was a Yale sweatshirt and a necklace. Taking a closer look at the necklace, Ronan saw a tiny plant moving side to side. When Ronan touched the casing, it’s bud opened, releasing a scent. Gasoline. He gasped at the familiarity of it. He could never forget that smell that he missed so much. There was nothing like the fresh smell of gasoline on Adam’s skin after a hard shift at Boyd’s.

Adam cleared his voice, “Remember about three months ago when we were missing each other so much that we fell asleep on skype together. Somehow I ended up in your dream and watched you go through some of our favorite memories together. I remember smelling the air and thinking why would he love this smell, it’s terrible, but then it hit me. The smell of gasoline reminds you of me. I asked Cabeswater if there was something that you could have so you would always have the smell and it gave me a seed. I planted it and watched it grow into this tiny little plant and that’s when I thought of the necklace so you could always have it with you.”

Ronan gave him a watery smile, “You asshole. Put it on me?”

After the clasp was safely secured behind his neck, Ronan gave Adam a smaller box. Ronan watched as Adam opened it and as his eyes filled with tears. Adam laughed and touched gift. He lifted his head and stared right into Ronan’s eyes.

“Ronan, I love it.”

[abarbaricyalp]

Loved too Fondly to be Fearful

Ronan’s skin was tacky with sweat by the time they reached the little alcove in the mountain he’d dragged Adam out to. Adam, for his part, looked fucking amazing and just a little glistening and Ronan had half a mind to shove him off the cliff. He didn’t. Instead, he shrugged his bag off his shoulder and grabbed some of the blankets he’d brought and began to lay them out.

“Dad used to bring us up here all the time,” he explained as he worked. He took the larger comforter from Adam without looking and laid it across the other blankets before throwing himself down on them with a content sigh. He could feel his muscles unwinding and loosening and it felt like coming home.

Until Adam suddenly flopped down on top of him and evacuated all the air from Ronan’s body. “Oh my God, get off me,” Ronan wheezed, shoving Adam onto the ground and then dropping his weight on Adam’s chest.

It startled a laugh out of his boyfriend which made Ronan laugh and soon they were just holding onto each other, throwing elbows and not willing to get far enough away from each other to avoid getting hit. Ronan eventually got his weight situated over Adam’s body enough to hold him down, one hand at Adam’s wrists above their heads and the other curled into his hair.

“Is this the only view?” Adam asked. He still had a wide grin and smile lines were eating dozens of his summertime freckles. Ronan felt like his heart was going to burst in his chest and he quickly hid his face against Adam’s shoulder. “Ah, much better.” Adam rubbed his jaw against the softness of Ronan’s hair and then worked an arm free to pet along his hairline against his neck.

“It’s beautiful up here, Ro,”  he murmured softly. “I mean...I feel like I can touch the sky from here.”

“Parrish, so help me God, if you lift your arm and try, I’ll throw you off the mountain,” Ronan mumbled against the worn fabric of his shirt. No wonder he wasn’t sweating. There was hardly any material left to it. It wouldn’t keep heat in.

Adam laughed under him and wrapped his free arm around Ronan’s waist tightly. Even after all this time, Adam laugh was single handedly the most beautiful thing Ronan ever made. And he just caused it. It wasn’t really making it. Adam’s laugh was like coming home from school in the dead of winter and passing out in front of a fire. It was jumping in a lake with your best friend on the last day of school. It was the beautiful few minutes between afternoon and dusk in the summer when the bugs hadn’t come out yet. All these little infinite moments that Ronan wanted to live in for forever.

He yelped as Adam ruined everything and pinched his side, sending Ronan scampering off of him. When Adam looked over at him, Ronan could feel his own face pouting but he couldn’t stop it. It made Adam laugh again so the ensuing embarrassment was definitely worth it.

“What a morose look!” Adam laughed, reaching over to hold the side and back of Ronan’s head to pull him into a kiss. Ronan braced his hands on Adam’s waist and let them stay in the odd pose for just a few more kisses before he pushed Adam back and rearranged them on the blanket.

“I get that we saw the sunset while we climbed up,” Adam said, leaning his shoulder against Ronan’s and staring at the dark dusk that was falling over the mountains and leaving far sides in the dark. As it was, their little spot was beginning to darken and cool off. “But now it’s going to be dark most of the time we’re up here. What’s the point?”

Ronan wrapped his arm around Adam’s waist and tilted his head back, soaking in the last few desperate rays of sunshine.

When he was little, it wasn’t only Niall who brought him up to the mountains. When Ronan had fought with Declan or Niall or anyone at school, Aurora would bring her son up here and lay him down until the absence of the sun cooled him off. She could tell he’d have the tendency to temper that he sure enough grew into and she staved it off better than anything else in Ronan’s life had. Most anything. Maybe she was tied with Adam.

She’d hold him against her chest and point towards the stars and whisper in his ear, “Look there. Those celestial bodies are watching over your for your whole life. They hear you, Ronan. They hear everything you tell them. Whether you shout it or you whisper it, they’ll hear you and they’ll remember you. Your secrets, your hopes and wishes, your dreams and your nightmares.”

“Why are they listening to me?” Ronan had asked the first time she brought him up there. “No one else listens to my dreams.” Which at the time were to be a pirate and not in line with Declan’s wish to be a spy.

“Because you dream just like them, baby boy. You dream of stars and light and fire that you can control.”

Ronan’s cheeks had heated because it was embarrassing. One, that his mother knew what he dreamt and two, that he dreamt of lightening bugs and trees while Declan dreamt of their father and adventure and Matthew dreamt of dogs and soldiers.

“You create just as much as they do,” Aurora had said, kissing his temple and then hugging him tight. He’d wanted to exist in that moment for forever too. It was different than with Adam though. When he thought of forever it Adam, it wasn’t necessarily that stationary moment. He just wanted the moments for the rest of his life, for a longer life just to spend the extra time with Adam. With his mom, he just wanted to stay in her arms. He didn’t care if he aged or not. If his brothers ever found him. If his father ever found them. He just wanted to stay with his mom and never let anything else happen again.

That would have been simpler. But he couldn’t deny the same feeling of blooming magic and wonder in his chest as he sat next to Adam and watched the stars slowly peak out of dusk and then dark blue jean sky and then finally the velvety expanse of nothing but far away secret keepers. Adam had traced senseless designs on the back of Ronan’s hands as they sat in silence together while darkness fell. The only sounds that broke through the peace was the eventual crickets and cicadas and maybe a bicker or two that would end in kisses and bodies pressed closer together.

Finally, when Ronan deemed it dark enough and he was starting to get irritated with the mosquitos buzzing around, he shifted to wrap his legs on either side of Adam, holding them chest to back and tangling his fingers with Adam’s in the other’s lap.

“Hey, Parrish,” he mumbled against Adam’s neck as he pressed light kisses to his skin.

“Yeah, Lynch?” Adam hummed back, tilting his head to Ronan’s shoulder.

“Did you know the stars are listening?”

“Tell them to mind their own business.” Ronan snorted against his shoulder and Adam chuckled softly. “What do you tell the stars, Ronan Lynch?” he asked.

Ronan paused because he hadn’t expected Adam to ask anything, much less that. He screwed his courage to the sticking place--somewhere between his heart and Adam’s--and took a breath. “I tell them that I’m afraid.”

“When are you afraid?”

“I’m always afraid.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“I’m afraid of losing.”

“Losing what?”

“You. This. Memories. The future.”

Adam shifted in Ronan’s hold and freed his hands to bring them up to Ronan’s face. “You’re not going to lose any of that,” he said with so much confidence it actually made Ronan feel it too. “I’m not going anywhere and as long as I’m here, I promise I’ll make sure everything else is too.”

Ronan shivered and felt his eyes close involuntarily. Then he felt Adam’s mouth on his. His lips parted under Adam’s and he felt Adam’s smile, even as he kept the kiss chaste and soft. It was just as hot to just be sharing air together as it was to have Adam pinned beneath him. Or to be pinned beneath Adam. He wasn’t picky.

“I love you,” he breathed without opening his eyes, without really pulling away from Adam.

“Are you telling me or the stars?” Adam asked, a laugh still in his voice that made Ronan’s shoulders loosen just a little.

“I’m telling both. I want the stars to remember.”

“Is that what they do? Listen and remember?”

“That’s what they do.”

Adam kissed him again and Ronan relaxed finally. When they parted next, Adam turned over in Ronan’s arms again and looked up at the sky.

“I love Ronan Lynch!” he shouted with a laugh. Because where Ronan would go quiet, Adam would be loud. “Is this how I promise myself to you?” he asked over his shoulder. “Tell the stars and know I can never go back on it?”

“God, I love you,” Ronan said instead of answering and then swooping in for a breath-taking kiss.

“Did you drag me all the way up here just to promise ourselves to each other?” Adam asked once they’d pulled apart and gasped in a few breaths.

Ronan thought about the box tucked under some baggies of sandwiches and extra jackets. Not yet, he thought. Tonight was something magical in its own right, now.

“You said you’d never seen a light show,” Ronan said as he leaned back and pulled Adam with him. “I give you the Perseids.”

Almost on cue, in a fashion only befitting a magical dream boy who talked to the stars, three meteors flew across the sky right after each other. Adam gasped above him and brought a hand up to his mouth.

“Shooting stars. I’ve never…” He stared up at the sky and Ronan felt when he took in a shaky breath. He remained quiet.

“Did you make a wish?” Ronan asked softly, trailing his hand up and down Adam’s stomach.

“I already promised myself to the only thing I’d wish for.”

Ronan smiled softly and kissed his jaw. “Me too, Adam,” he murmured. “Me too.”

[actuallymollyweasley]

kids of the in-between: ch. 14

aka “Ticking Backwards”

Honestly, you’re all amazing for being so patient all this time, and I hope this chapter was worth the wait! Managed to finish just in time to celebrate the end of the beauty that was Pynch Week haha. Feel free to ask to be tagged in future updates if you want!

Read all parts: on tumblr | on ao3

One second, Adam was highlighting his calculus lecture notes from last week in an effort to try and remember how the hell he was supposed to answer the questions in his problem set. The next second, Blue Sargent had somehow managed to snatch up his notebook and highlighter, toss them onto his bed, and perch herself on his desk, all in a single motion. She then proceeded to smile at him as if this was completely normal.

(Although Adam supposed that because Blue Sargent was involved, it kind of was.)

“Hello, Adam.”

Adam narrowed his eyes. She was using her customer-service voice, the one that managed to convey I'm running on two hours of sleep so you can be polite to me or die just by the way she shaped her vowels. “Blue. What do you want?”

“Can’t I just want to talk to my best friend, whom I love dearly and never see anymore?”

“You can,” Adam said. “But you generally do that from your own desk, not mine. Also, it's not my fault that you've only slept in your own bed three times in the last week.”

“Adam!”

Blush was an interesting color on Blue. It clashed rather horribly with the neon green streak Noah had dyed in her hair the other day—but the neon green streak also clashed horribly with her ripped purple overalls, so maybe it all balanced out in the end.

“I'm just saying,” Adam continued, “don't try to pass all the blame off on my double shift and weird boyfriend.”

To his surprise, that statement made Blue eye him carefully. “That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually.”

“The double shift?”

“The weird boyfriend, you idiot.”

“Could have gone either way,” Adam argued, although he couldn't quite keep the corners of his mouth from twitching. “What about him?”

Blue snagged one of his pens and started doodling on her overalls, as if owning ripped purple overalls wasn't anti-establishment enough already. “How are things going between you two? Since your… since that phone call?”

“They're good,” Adam said, and was surprised to find that for once in his life, he actually meant it. Good wasn't something he came across very often.

Blue drew a suspicious smiley face on her overalls. It sported a single raised eyebrow and a curled mouth and a judgmental stare that pointed directly at Adam. “So no problems at all?”

“I said good, not perfect.”

After all, Ronan had blown into this very dorm room yesterday morning to show Adam a caricatured painting of Gansey that he'd created using Gansey's sleeping face as a model. Adam had been working at his desk with his deaf ear pointed toward the door and all his focus directed toward his assignments. When Ronan had let the door slam shut behind the tail end of his hurricane, Adam had flinched. It had been instinctive, and unavoidable, and had nothing to do with Ronan himself, and he had still freaked out and left and refused to talk to Adam for the next several hours out of misplaced guilt.

So they were working on it.

But that was good too. It was nice to work for something that Adam actually thought he could get.

“There's already too much perfect in our friend group,” he continued. “Henry and Noah never even frown at each other, and don't think I didn't notice that Gansey’s wearing a lavender polo shirt today.”

“Coincidence,” Blue insisted.

“You guys matched outfits,” Adam replied, unrepentant. “Ronan and I have to have disagreements just to balance out the rest of you.”

“That's a terrible reason to have a fight.”

“You yell at Gansey for wearing boat shoes every day just to keep up your three-week streak.”

“This conversation isn't about me and Gansey.”

“The thing about a conversation,” Adam said, “is that you shouldn't start one if you don't want it to go both ways. Why are you suddenly asking about Ronan?”

At that, Blue finally looked up from the drawings on her overalls, rolling Adam’s pen between her palm and the desk. “I just… Are you sure you want to stay here for Thanksgiving instead of coming home with me? Because I know that you don't want to cause issues with money, but you know my mom always cooks too much food anyway, and you really wouldn't be imposing and my baby cousins would love to see you and I don't want you to have Thanksgiving with Ronan just because you don't think you have any other options.”

“Oh, Blue.” Adam reached out, rolled the pen out from under Blue’s hand, and started drawing. “I'm staying here for a lot of reasons. One reason is that I don't want to go back to Henrietta so soon after telling my father that I don't need to.”

“But Adam,” Blue protested, “you shouldn't—”

“Another,” Adam continued pointedly, “is that Calla always looks at me like I'm either going to destroy the house or fall down dead at any moment, just because she knows I notice when she's doing it. Also, your mom always burns the turkey, and Ronan has never actually burned anything that he's cooked in front of me. Not to mention that I genuinely like Ronan and am looking forward to making out with him over break. I'm pretty sure all of those are valid reasons. Do you disagree?”

Blue looked at him, blinked, looked down at the vines now twisting across the hem of her overalls, and sighed. “No. I just had to make sure I didn't need to beat Ronan up for you. And I was hoping I could convince you to come so I wouldn't have to suffer through my mom’s burnt turkey alone.”

“And the truth comes out,” Adam grinned, capping his pen. “Don’t worry about it, Blue. I'm sure Orla will show up with her husband for Thanksgiving dinner so she doesn't have to cook anything herself, and if Orla enjoys doing anything with you, it’s painting nails and complaining.”

“You got me there,” Blue said, then paused. “You realize that I'm never going to be able to wash these overalls now, right? These drawings are a symbol of our friendship and ability to have serious conversations without deflecting. I have to preserve them forever.”

“All I did was make squiggly lines,” Adam said. “If you really want something worth preserving, hand them to Ronan and give him a Sharpie.”

“He'd just write the lyrics to the Murder Squash Song across my ass.”

“Or he'd draw something really thoughtful on your front pocket and pretend Chainsaw did it.”

Blue considered that statement. “Knowing Ronan, he'd do both.” She clapped both hands on his shoulders—a distinctly Gansey gesture—and looked him in the eye. “He really is perfect for you.”

Then she hopped off his desk.

“Did you just… give me your blessing?”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Isn't that Gansey’s job? Are you assigning each other parental duties now?”

“Sorry, gotta go, meeting Henry to tear holes in our clothes and drink tea from his expensive mugs.”

“Henry would never defile his vintage Madonna t-shirts and designer jeans.”

“My and Noah’s clothes,” Blue corrected. “Have fun with your calculus.”

Blue had been his best friend for over three years at this point. Adam didn't know why he kept making the mistake of attempting to understand her.

“Now, I restocked the coffee beans and cereal—and remembered to buy milk this time, before you ask,” Gansey said, glancing around the kitchen like the cabinets would help remind him of what he wanted to say. “Ronan said you two were fine to do the grocery shopping on your own, but I didn’t know if you would get a chance to go out before breakfast tomorrow so I wanted to make sure you didn’t have to worry about that. The lock on our door is still broken, so you might want to push the couch in front of it at night just in case. Declan and Matthew are welcome to stay in my room if they don’t want to book a hotel. I’m planning to return Sunday afternoon around four, but if anything happens before then, just give me a call and I can be back in three hours. In fact, if you think I might need to be here for any reason at all, say the word and I can cancel my plans. Maybe I should just call Helen right now and tell her to let Mom know that I can’t make it home for Thanksgiving after all. I’m sure she’d underst—”

“Gansey.” Adam had been planning to let Gansey tire himself out, but this was getting out of hand. “I have been self-sufficient for the last ten years. I'm pretty sure I can handle a week in the dorms, even if that week does involve Ronan.”

“Dickface,” Ronan called out from inside his room.

“Are you talking to me or Gansey?”

“Yes,” Ronan said.

Gansey’s face contorted like he wasn't sure whether to feel offended or amused. “Regardless. You'll call me if the need arises, won't you?”

“Yes, Gansey, we'll call you.” Adam pushed at Gansey's rolling suitcase with his toe, watching with satisfaction as it bounced off the kitchen cabinets and slowly rolled back. “Now go enjoy your Thanksgiving.”

“You too.” Gansey considered Adam for a moment and then held out one hand for a fistbump. It was absurd and boyish and brilliantly Gansey, and Adam accepted it with a smile tugging at his lips.

Gansey's responding grin was blinding as he reached down and grabbed the handle of his suitcase. “Ronan, I'm leaving!”

“Good fucking riddance!” Ronan replied before sticking his head out of the doorway. “Watch your shifts into second gear. That's when the Pig stalls out most often.”

Adam wouldn't have thought it possible, but Gansey's smile widened. “Thanks, Lynch,” he said, and then he was gone, and Adam and Ronan were alone.

Adam turned and raised his eyebrows at Ronan, who very purposefully turned around and retreated back into his room. Unfazed, Adam followed him. “Second gear, huh?”

“You're the mechanic,” Ronan said. “Didn't you notice?”

“Oh, I noticed,” Adam said, “but I wasn't the one who made sure that Gansey knew too.”

“Shut up,” Ronan said, and kissed him.

They'd been dating for a few weeks now, but kissing Ronan Lynch still felt like starting a wildfire. Adam had to break away before they burned down the whole dorm.

As he did, he eyed the extra sheets draped across half of Ronan's room. “When are you going to let me see what's under those?”

“When I’m fucking done with it.”

He frowned. “‘It?’ Is all of that for one art piece?”

Ronan shrugged. “Dr. Azalea.”

“But I thought you already turned in your last assignment.”

“This,” Ronan gestured vaguely, “is for my first assignment.”

Adam felt his heart collide against his ribs, a bang rather than a thump. “Happiness?”

“Yeah.” Ronan tugged the sheets more securely over his stack of canvases. “It's stupid.”

“It's not.” Adam reached out and took one of Ronan's hands in both of his, rubbing his thumbs over Ronan's knuckles. “Now come on, what are we supposed to be buying for tomorrow?”

“This was a terrible idea.” Ronan looked about five seconds away from throwing the pasta he was cooking out the window. “Adam, why the fuck did you let me cook? We should have met them for lunch somewhere. I shouldn't have let them come here in the first place. We should have driven to D.C. We should have stayed here by ourselves. Fuck, this dish is shit.”

Adam peered over Ronan’s shoulder. “Doesn't look like shit to me.” He snagged a bite of penne with a fork before Ronan could stop him. “Doesn't taste like it either.”

“It’s shit compared to my mom’s,” Ronan said, and that was startling enough to make Adam turn off the stove and take the spatula from Ronan’s slightly shaking hands. He hadn't heard Ronan mention his mother since before his father had died. Actually, he'd never heard Ronan mention his mother at all.

“Ronan.” Adam frowned at his boyfriend’s hands, trying to find the right words. He'd never been particularly skilled at offering comfort. He'd never really needed to be. “It doesn't have to taste like your mom’s to be good. I'm sure they'll love it.”

“Matthew might,” Ronan muttered. “Declan’s going to hate it.”

“He won't,” Adam insisted, but the look on Ronan's face told Adam he knew that Adam had no idea what he was talking about. He was an only child, his parents were both alive and terrible, and he had never met Declan Lynch before in his life.

“I mean it,” Adam said, not sure how he would back up that statement, and then there was a knock at the door.

Ronan tensed, gave the pasta one last stir, opened the door—and was promptly tackled by a medium-sized bundle of brightly colored clothing and hair like sunshine.

“Ronan! I've missed you so much! Your hair is so short! How is college?”

It's mostly like high school,” Ronan said, voice a little rough, “but with better friends. Are you still growing?”

“Like a weed,” came from behind Matthew’s mass of curls. “If you don't watch out, he’ll end up taller than you, Ronan.”

“Doubtful,” Ronan said, shoulders stiff but eyes still soft because Matthew had stuck his tongue out at him in response. “Are you coming inside for lunch or what?”

“Or what,” Matthew replied, although he was already passing Ronan in the doorway.

Adam hid a smile in his shirt collar.

At the same moment, Matthew caught sight of him and bounded forward like a wayward basketball, only skidding to a halt to extremely vigorously shake Adam’s hand. “Hi! I'm Matthew, Ronan’s brother. It's great to meet you! What’s your name?”

Adam’s smile froze onto his face. Had Ronan seriously not told them—

“Hello, I’m Declan Lynch, and you must be Adam Parrish.” Ronan's older brother slipped past Matthew to introduce himself. He had Ronan’s sharp cheekbones, the type of suit that a millionaire would wear for a casual evening out on his own personal yacht, and a handshake with half of Matthew's enthusiasm and twice his firmness. “Matthew, don't you retain anything Ronan says?”

“I retain the things that matter, like that he said lunch was ready,” Matthew retorted. Then he glanced at Adam. “Um, not that you don't matter, obviously. I just forgot that you were going to be here the whole time. But now I'm even more excited to meet you! Ronan’s never had a boyfriend before.”

The Lynch in question was currently glaring at the pot on the stove—probably because he couldn't bring himself to glare directly at Matthew, Adam thought with amusement. “Shut up,” Ronan said, “and grab a plate.”

“I'll shut up if you let me drink beer with lunch,” Matthew said.

“Not a fucking chance,” Ronan replied.

Adam had no way of proving it. But when he turned around to shut the front door, he was pretty sure he glimpsed a small smile on Declan’s face.

The rest of Wednesday went so well that Adam had to refrain three times from asking Ronan what he'd been so worried about. As he’d expected, Matthew had nothing but compliments to bestow on the food Ronan made, and Declan didn't mention it at all, which Ronan claimed was its own kind of silent approval. After that, they spent most of the afternoon shopping for last-minute groceries—or rather, Ronan and Declan argued about what they needed to buy while Matthew stealthily added cans of whipped cream to the shopping cart behind their backs. By the time they reached the checkout line, there were at least fifteen cans tucked between the bags of sweet potatoes and fresh green beans, but the older Lynch brothers placed each new can on the conveyor belt without a word.

Declan made dinner and spent most of the meal talking about his job.

Matthew begged Ronan for beer unsuccessfully half a dozen times.

Ronan painted all through the night, telling Adam that with a little luck, he could be finished by the end of Thanksgiving break.

And then Thursday morning came.

Adam woke up to yelling, which was both familiar and discomfiting. For a moment, he couldn’t distinguish reality from his dream about the double-wide trailer he’d grown up in. The sheets felt scratchier. The room felt smaller. He even thought he heard the sound of breaking glass.

But then Declan shouted, “And it’d be nice if you’d answer your phone every once in a while,” the polar opposite of anything Robert Parrish would have said to his son, and Adam refocused.

“It’s college,” Ronan snapped. “I’m fucking busy.”

“Oh, please, you’re an art student.” Declan’s voice was scathing. “Don’t bother pretending that you’re drowning under some heavy workload.”

Adam decided to grab a pair of sweatpants and open the door before somebody got punched.

“Good morning,” he said pleasantly, doing his best to pretend that the walls weren’t paper-thin. “You’re up earlier than usual, Ronan.”

“Didn’t sleep,” Ronan growled, which Adam already knew. “I was working on an assignment for class.”

“And I’m sure it’s very pretty,” the eldest Lynch brother said. Ronan was still silently fuming behind the kitchen counter, but Declan’s expression had shifted from derisive to politely neutral the moment he caught sight of Adam. “Good morning, Adam. Would you like some coffee?”

“I’d love some,” Adam said.

“Sugar? Cream?”

“Just a little cream is fine, thanks.”

“Gross,” Ronan muttered.

“You’re gross,” Matthew said over a yawn, wandering into the hallway. “What are we talking about?”

“Coffee,” Ronan said.

“Oh, yeah. That is gross.”

Adam furrowed his eyebrows. “I thought you two were staying in a hotel room?”

(It was the type of decision he had a feeling he would never understand—in his opinion, spending money on a hotel when there was a perfectly usable bed and couch in the suite was a frivolity and a waste. But Declan had thought a hotel room would be more comfortable, and so the money was spent.)

Matthew rubbed a hand across his eyes, yawning again. “We did.”

“But Matthew said he was going to use the restroom and ‘accidentally’ went back to sleep on your friend Gansey’s bed,” Declan explained.

“Lame,” Ronan said. But this time he reached out and ruffled Matthew’s hair, so Adam figured things would be all right.

Less than an hour later, the Lynch brothers were arguing again.

“What do you think you're doing?” Declan demanded.

“Making the spice rub for the fucking turkey, like I said I was going to,” Ronan growled.

“With those spices? You're doing it completely wrong.”

“No, I'm fucking not.”

“It doesn't need sage.”

“Yes, it does.”

“How would you even know?”

“Because I actually cared about helping Mom out with Thanksgiving dinner, unlike you, and I listened when she was teaching me! It's parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme, like in that fucking song, but without the parsley because who the fuck needs parsley anyway. And then if you’re not a fucking idiot, you’ll remember that it also uses salt, pepper, and garlic powder. That's what she told me.”

“Yeah? Then I'm sure she would have loved to hear you repeat it back like that.”

“Guys,” Matthew whined.

Ronan turned to him. “Matthew, you always hung around the kitchen at Thanksgiving too. Tell Declan that he's wrong.”

Matthew bit his lip, eyes darting between the two of them, and said, “I'm sorry. I don't remember how Mom made it.”

Declan and Ronan both froze for such a long moment that Adam inexplicably remembered the drawing he’d seen on Ronan’s wall the first time he ever entered his room—Declan and Matthew wrestling in the grass, Ronan perched on Niall’s back, and Aurora Lynch smiling softly in the background.

Which was worse? To have never felt the kind of love that the Lynches offered each other, or to grow up surrounded by that love, only to have it all ripped away in a single bloody morning?

Declan sighed. “Maybe it has been too long since I helped Mom in the kitchen,” he said. “Go ahead and do what you want, Ronan.”

Ronan’s knuckles were white as he gripped the edges of the mixing bowl. “Who even fucking cares about the turkey anymore?”

“I do!” The turkey was lying on the other end of the counter, so Matthew nudged it within Ronan’s reach. “Come on, Ro, I’ll help you with the turkey.”

“I can start peeling potatoes,” Adam offered.

Declan stiffened like he had forgotten Adam was there. But when he turned to face him, his smile looked unshakable. It would have been enough to make Adam question whether Ronan and Declan were actually related, except that they shared too many facial features. “That’d be great, Adam,” he said, as if tension wasn’t stretched between everyone in the room like bungee cords just waiting to snap. “But I don’t want you to feel like we have a monopoly on tonight’s menu. Do you have any family recipes you want to make?”

Adam flinched—but a quick look at the rigid lines of Ronan’s back told him that one family’s worth of drama was enough for this Thanksgiving, so he covered it by pulling the bag of potatoes closer to him. “No,” he said simply. “My parents never cared much for Thanksgiving.”

Ronan snorted, and not kindly. “You can say that again.”

Matthew looked between his siblings and Adam, frowning. “So. What are we doing for lunch?”

Lunch was an argument, as Ronan thought they would be too full to eat dinner and Declan thought he was just trying to be difficult. Cooking was an argument, as they were constantly bumping shoulders and using each other's mixing spoons and changing the oven temperature. Chainsaw flew into the kitchen at one point, looking for scraps, and that sparked yet another argument, as Declan couldn't decide which was more horrifying: that Ronan had broken the dorm’s rules to get a pet, that said pet was a raven, or that Ronan was planning on feeding her some of the leftover turkey later.

When the Lynch brothers got along, it made this too-large-for-a-couple-of-college-freshmen dorm feel like a home.

When they were fighting, it made this too-small-for-a-couple-of-angry-boys dorm feel like a certain double-wide trailer that Adam was still trying to put behind him.

And on top of that, he was developing a migraine—because everything sounded louder when you could only hear out of one ear.

So when Matthew went digging through their grocery bags, surfacing only to exclaim that they had forgotten to buy pumpkin pie filling, Adam jumped at the chance to get out of Walton.

“I think there are a few grocery stores just off-campus that are still open on Thanksgiving,” he said. “I can bike around and see if any of them carry pumpkin pie filling.”

“Oh, we couldn't ask that of you,” Declan said.

“It's really not a problem,” Adam replied. “Besides, I want pumpkin pie just as much as Matthew does.”

“Don't be stupid,” Ronan said. Then, when Adam turned to frown at him, “It’s fucking freezing outside.” And he tossed the keys to the BMW at Adam.

Adam caught them out of reflex and sheer luck, furrowing his eyebrows. If he'd been having a shitty day, how much shittier had Ronan been feeling? He’d spent the entire day arguing with the only family he had left. “Ronan,” he started, and then hesitated, not wanting to offend Declan. In the end, he settled on, “Do you want to come with me?”

Ronan just shoved his hands in his pockets. “Nah,” he said. “Gotta keep an eye on the turkey.”

Adam frowned at him again, but when Ronan didn't budge, he had no choice but to leave.

Buying pumpkin pie filling on Thanksgiving afternoon took Adam almost an hour. It turned out to be more difficult to find an open store than he'd anticipated, and if he'd lingered in the one store he had found, walking through every aisle and relishing that it was quiet enough for him to hear the buzz of the fluorescent lights… well, no one could prove it.

In any case, by the time he returned, Ronan was no longer in the kitchen. Instead, his awful electronic music was blaring inside his room.

“The turkey finished cooking, so Ronan decided to let us make the rest of dinner while he went back to painting.” Declan didn't roll his eyes, but with that tone of voice, he didn't need to.

“Well,” Adam replied, “he’s extremely dedicated to his art. He wants everything he works on to be perfect. That's what makes him such a good artist.”

Declan looked like he couldn't imagine Ronan Lynch being dedicated to anything. “Good for him,” he said, sounding unconvinced. “Were you able to find the pumpkin filling, then?”

Adam nodded.

“Awesome!” Matthew sprang up from where he'd been lounging on the couch. “Do you want to help me make the pie, Adam?”

What Adam really thought he should do was check on Ronan. But Matthew’s eyes were shining with excitement, and Adam found himself unable to refuse.

Between making pie, throwing together a few side dishes, and reheating the turkey once everything else had finished baking, hours passed without Adam noticing. Suddenly it was seven o’clock, and dinner was ready.

“We usually try to eat by five,” Declan said, sliding into his chair at the kitchen table, “but with putting everything together ourselves, I suppose delays were inevitable. I hope you don't mind, Adam.”

Adam thought Declan must not have actually gone to college to believe that a seven o’clock dinner was some horrible catastrophe. “It's fine,” he assured him. “Should I go get Ro—?”

“RONAN!” Matthew shouted out of nowhere, making Adam jump. “DINNER!”

“He's fifteen feet away, not five hundred,” Declan chided, although even he seemed unable to properly discipline Matthew. “I’m pretty sure you didn't have to scream that loudly in order for him to hear you.”

“Yeah, but it was fun,” Matthew grinned. “And apparently necessary, because he's STILL NOT OUT HERE!”

A pause.

“RONAN?!”

“I'm coming, I'm coming, Jesus,” Ronan said, shrugging on his leather jacket as he came out of his room. “I had to finish the thing I was working on, calm the fuck down.”

“We were all waiting for you,” Matthew said, in a supercilious tone he could only keep up for half the sentence before breaking into giggles, but Adam’s eyes narrowed as he took a second look at Ronan’s hands.

Declan followed his line of sight and frowned. “Ronan… Ronan, are those bandages? Are you all right?”

“Calm the fuck down,” Ronan repeated. “My hands slipped, it's not a big fucking deal.”

Declan’s frown only deepened. “You cut yourself… on art supplies?”

“Ever heard of a palette knife?” Ronan said, scathing.

“Nope!” Matthew broke in cheerfully. “Now come on, Ronan, sit down, we have to pray.”

Ronan's shoulders stiffened. “Right.” He sat down next to Adam. “I guess that's your job now, Declan?”

For the first time since Adam had met him, Declan looked visibly uncomfortable. “Actually, I was thinking we could all say it together?”

Ronan clasped his hands together so tightly, Adam thought it must be hurting the cuts on his palms. “Fine.”

He bowed his head, and after a moment, Matthew and Declan followed suit. “Bless us, O Lord, and these, thy gifts, which we are about to receive, from thy bounty, through Christ Our Lord. Amen.”

“Amen,” Adam said along with them, although he wasn't sure he believed in gifts or bounty, let alone a benevolent God who supposedly offered them. It just seemed like the polite thing to do.

When they were done, Matthew's head popped back up like a puppy's. “Okay! Let's eat!”

Declan smiled, passed Matthew the mashed potatoes, and stood up to begin cutting into the turkey. Adam got so caught up in filling his plate with green beans and sweet potato casserole and stuffing and peas and turkey and gravy and cranberry sauce—he may have been getting three meals a day from the dining hall, but putting as much food on his plate as he could, whenever he could, was second-nature by now—that he didn't look over at Ronan until he'd sampled everything in reach.

“Ronan,” Adam said, “this turkey is amazing. Whenever I go to Thanksgiving at Blue’s house, her mom always burns it and makes us eat it anyway, but I… Ronan, why is your plate empty?”

Ronan was staring off at nothing.

“Yeah, Ronan, if you don't get some food soon, I'm finishing off the sweet potato casserole without you.”

No, not nothing—the empty chair at the head of the table.

Adam started to get a hard feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Ronan?”

Ronan stood abruptly and nearly knocked his chair over. “I need a drink,” he said before heading toward the refrigerator.

“A drink,” Declan said drily.

Ronan threw open the refrigerator door.

“Are you serious? Beer on Thanksgiving?”

He grabbed one, seemingly at random, and slammed it on the counter. “Yeah, Declan, beer on fucking Thanksgiving. Who's gonna stop me?”

“I—”

“No, I mean it,” Ronan said. “Who's gonna stop me? Because Mom hasn't spoken in months, Dad’s dead, and I don't have to listen to a word you say. You're not our fucking parents.”

Declan went completely still, as if this was another one of Ronan's paintings. Adam thought he knew which emotion Dr. Azalea would accept this one for. Heartbreak.

“Shit,” Ronan said, “I’m sorry.”

The door slammed shut behind him when he left.

For a moment, silence.

Then, “Ronan, wait!”

Matthew scooted out of his chair and hurried after him.

Adam got up and ran to Ronan's room, intending to use his window to see if Ronan headed into the parking lot, but when he finally tugged Ronan's door open, he couldn't do anything but stare.

At last, the sheets Ronan had been using to hide his happiness assignment had been tossed aside, leaving the project in full view.

It was a wreck.

Adam thought Ronan had actually been proud of how his artwork was turning out, but that was clearly no longer the case. Several of the canvases had been slashed through, while others looked like they had been kicked in. A paint tube had been squeezed out over a few more, leaving behind red paint hardened and flaking to the touch like dried blood. Preliminary sketches had been torn up and scattered over the mess, perverted confetti celebrating creative disaster. And when Adam finally remembered to lean out and look for Ronan, all he noticed was another pile of Ronan's ruined paintings that he’d apparently thrown out of the window. Everything was just—

“What the fuck is this?”

“It’s his art,” Adam said. “He's been working on these canvases for weeks, insisting that he was getting close to finishing, insisting that his next idea was going to be the right one, and now it's all destroyed.”

But when he turned around, Declan wasn't staring at the ruined paintings. He was staring at the objects that Adam had gotten used to after spending so much time in Ronan's room.

“What?” Adam asked. “You can't tell me you don't know about Ronan's dreams.”

“Of course I know about his dreams,” Declan snapped, his eyes too wide and horrified to make his harsh tone effective. “But these are…”

Adam looked around and tried to remember how it had felt to see Ronan's room for the first time. The unnaturally bent sword, the twisted clock that ticked backwards, the dark stain on his floor that was now mostly hidden by ripped canvases and red paint…. That pit in his stomach came back. He'd known the objects weren't exactly fun dream souvenirs, known they could even look menacing, but they were just dispersed among the other objects, right? Tucked between self-bouncing balls and clocks that worked properly, hidden behind dream lights and whimsical inventions? Everyone had nightmares sometimes, and anyway, Adam hadn't seen Ronan dream up anything bad since that night at the campground. Of course, he hadn't been around Ronan every night—but he'd been around sometimes—and Ronan had never objected when Adam asked to spend the night, he'd never said that there was anything to be worried about—but then he was always the one who woke up first, and last night he had never fallen asleep at all.

“This isn't normal,” Adam said. It wasn't a question because he already knew the answer.

He knew it wasn't normal.

But Ronan had been so happy for the last few weeks—he’d thought Ronan had been so happy—that he'd stopped worrying.

Adam felt, abruptly, like a terrible boyfriend.

“No, it’s not normal,” Declan said derisively. “None of this is fucking normal. I haven’t seen him dream like this since…”

“Since Kavinsky?” Adam guessed.

“How do you know about Kavinsky?”

For some reason, the question snapped Adam into action. “This may surprise you,” he said, “but being in a relationship occasionally requires communication.” Except, apparently, when you destroy weeks’ worth of hard work. No, that’s not worth mentioning at all. Adam pushed the thought out of his mind. “Listen, Declan, I still have Ronan’s keys. That means he can’t have gotten that far. You should take your car and look around off-campus. He likes to go to St. Agnes or Nino’s, but check liquor stores too. I’ll search his usual on-campus hideouts because you can’t exactly find those on Google Maps.”

Just then, someone started banging on the front door. For one hopeful moment, Adam thought Ronan might have changed his mind about storming out. But when he flung the door open, only Matthew was waiting on the other side, red-faced and breathless.

“I tried to run after him, but by the time I went into the hallway, he was already gone. I went down the stairs and looked around, but I couldn’t—I couldn’t figure out which direction he’d taken.”

“That’s okay, Matthew,” Adam said. “We’re going to find him. You stay here in case he comes back, all right? Do you have my phone number?”

Matthew shook his head, so Adam took Matthew’s phone out of his hand and punched his number into his contacts, sending himself a text so he would have Matthew’s number as well. Then he did the same to Declan’s phone, grabbed his coat off the couch, and felt in his pockets to make sure Ronan hadn’t taken his keys without Adam noticing after all. They were there, a cool and hard and reassuring weight.

In the same time span, Declan had barely managed to put on one shoe. “You seem to have this search-team business down to a science. Have you… has something like this happened before?”

Adam felt something shatter inside of him. “Not in a while,” he managed to say.

Then he was gone.

Adam checked everywhere. Every classroom Ronan had bribed or broken his way into, every tree he’d sketched, every bench he’d fallen asleep on. By the time he got back to Walton, it was almost nine, Thanksgiving dinner was a forgotten feast weighing down the kitchen table, and nobody had been able to find Ronan Lynch.

Finally, feeling guilty and desperate, Adam called Gansey.

“Adam! I’m so happy to hear from you! I hope you’re having a lovely Thanksgiving. I’m just,” he hiccupped, “watching Food Network with Helen. Because obviously we haven’t seen enough—hic—food for one day.”

Gansey sounded sleepy, wine-drunk, and content. Adam could picture him leaning against Helen on an extravagantly luxurious couch in their living room, even though he had yet to actually see a photograph of Gansey’s sister. It made him feel even worse about saying, “Ronan is missing again.”

Gansey caught himself mid-laugh. “What? But I thought—”

“I don’t think it’s anything serious,” Adam was quick to add. “I mean… you know. Now that we know the truth about that one time. But he left during dinner and Declan and I have checked all the usual places and I….” He sighed. “I would just feel better if I knew where he was.”

Gansey was quiet for a while. “Did he take his car?”

“No.”

More silence. “Did you check the roof?”

Adam felt his heart stop, restart, and stutter again, all in the space of a moment. “The roof?! Gansey, I thought we just established that Ronan wasn’t—”

“Not like that!” Gansey interrupted hastily. “Ronan and I used to go up to the roof to talk. We haven’t been up since… but anyway, it’s worth a shot.”

Adam’s heart did its best to reestablish a natural rhythm. He didn’t think it was particularly successful. “Oh. Okay. Thanks, Gansey.”

“Do you need me to come up? I wasn’t being flippant, you know, when I said I would the other day. If you’re concerned that Ronan might—”

“No!” Adam’s voice was too loud for the near-empty campus. “No, Gansey, you really don’t need to come. You’ve already been helpful enough.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Adam hesitated, squeezed his eyes shut, and opened them again. “I’m sorry for calling you like this. Don’t worry, all right? Ronan is fine. This isn’t like before.”

“Just text me when you find him, okay?”

Gansey’s voice was smooth, measured, and nowhere near immature enough to belong to an eighteen-year-old boy.

Adam tried not to let the guilt crush him like a cartoon anvil when he said, “Of course I will, Gansey. Have a nice night.”

After a moment’s indecision, Adam ducked into Ronan and Gansey’s suite on his way up to the roof. It had gotten cold, and Ronan’s leather jacket offered almost no insulation, so he just wanted to grab a couple hats and maybe a blanket before heading up to the roof.

Of course, Matthew Lynch stopped him in his tracks.

“Did you find Ronan yet?!”

Adam shook his head. “Still looking. Gansey told me about another place I haven’t checked yet.”

“Okay,” Matthew said before handing Adam a brown paper bag.

Adam frowned. “What is this?”

“Well, you both pretty much missed dinner, so I filled up some plastic containers for you,” he said. “They should still be warm. There are forks and knives in there too.”

“I—thank you, Matthew.”

“I had to do something while I waited,” Matthew shrugged. “Now I’m working on this.”

He turned around in his seat and gestured at the kitchen table, on which rested a medium-size square canvas. From the underlying design, Adam recognized it as one of the ones that Ronan had elected to squirt paint over rather than completely mutilate, but it was getting harder and harder to make that distinction. Matthew was methodically covering every inch of the canvas in a gentle, chrysanthemums-at-sunrise yellow.

“You’re repainting one of Ronan’s canvases?” Adam asked in surprise.

Matthew shrugged. “He said he was having trouble with his happiness assignment. I thought this might help.”

Adam looked at the bag of food in his hands, at the serene smile on Matthew’s face, and at the yellow canvas. For the first time, he understood why Ronan had such a soft spot for Noah Czerny.

“Paint fast,” he said. “Ronan will be back soon.”

He draped one of Gansey’s spare blankets over his shoulders and took the stairs as high as he was allowed to go, and then higher. The door to the roof read, Locked: Authorized Access Only, but when he pushed on it, it swung open.

Adam poked his head out. The wind whistled in his one good ear, making it difficult to hear anything.

He squinted into the darkness.

“Ronan?”

@reytrashqueen @nymphhadora @thehufflepuffshuffle @thegreywarenloveshim @siriiusblcck @thefangirldiaries98 @adamprrishcycle @xerxesians @lirapheus @sacrebleusargent @laniemoriarty @actuallyronanlynch @iridescentsparrows @sapphicclary

[treebananas]

Here’s To New Beginnings

Pynchweek2017 is here! This is my work for Day 1: Something new

Summary: Adam and Ronan get coverage after the events from TRK tw: mention of child abuse, minor character death, light angst

word count: 1103

Adams hands shook as he drove to the magic place known as the Barns. He was a hurricane with anxiety and nervousness. His broke down mobile crushed over the gravel of the driveway. The car stopped, but Adam kept on shaking. He looked at himself in the cars small mirror and took a deep breath.

He walked up to the door, memories replaying in his head. Ronan’s birthday. The toy car. The kids. It felt magical and perhaps it was. Adam was unsure if he was Ronan’s first kiss. He was sure that he was the second person Ronan has kissed. The second kiss. Adam’s hands on Ronan’s ribs. His gentle baby soft lips. That night Ronan gave himself to Adam and Gansey told Adam not to break him. But what does that mean? Ronan and Adam fight, that’s what they do. Is that going to change if they continue into a relationship? Are they in a relationship?

Adam was so trapped in his head, he didn’t notice Ronan was standing into front of him staring. Adam looked him up and down. He was wearing his normal outfit, black muscle tee, and black skinny jeans. His hair was grown out longer, but his neck was still bruised with finger marks.

Why didn’t Ronan fight back? The whole night came flooding back. Adam noticed salt water falling to the ground. It took him a little bit to realize he was crying.

He reached up and lightly touched the bruises on Ronan’s beck. Ronan followed his hand and used it to pull Adam into a hug. Adam melted into Ronan.

They stayed pressed together till loud stomps announced the Orphan girl. Adam pulled back and smiled at the young girl. She took his hand and kissed his wrist.

Ronan grabbed his other hand and leg him inside, “Come on in, Parrish.”

The three walked farther into the Barns. Chainsaw appeared at some point, but flew out of Adams sight when the Orphan girl ran to some unknown room in the Barns.

“How’s Matthew and Declan?” asked Adam.

“Alive.” Ronan answered, disguising his thankfulness.

“Good, I was worried.”

“Me too.”

“How about you?”

“Me, Parrish?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m-Im fine.”

“You know it’s okay if you’re not.”

“Look, Parrish, I know it is not easy getting over whatever the hell we just went through, but Matthews alive, Declan’s alive and were not fighting anymore, Gansey’s alive, Blue, Henry, and Blue freaky family are alive, Noah’s g-d knows where, and my moms dead, but we’re alive for the most part. We lost less people than I thought, so yeah I’m fine. What about you?”

“…I-I don’t know.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“I keep having nightmares of…that night.”

“Which part?”

Adam looked down at his hands. Ronan walked over and stood right in front of Adam. He took Adam chin from where it was locked against his chest and forced him to make eye contact with Ronan.

“Adam it was not you.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t my hands.”

“You didn’t have control.”

“I could feel myself choking the life out of you.”

“It wasn’t you. You didn’t have control.”

“That’s not an excuse!”

“You were controlled by a literal demon. You were not drunk, you were possessed.”

“I can’t get it outta my head. It’s all I can think about.”

“You’re not reduced to a single memory. You are you, not the demon controlling you. You are you, not your possessed hands on my neck. You are you and you’re amazing. You are the smartest person I know and you have such a bright future that I only can hope to be a part of. You’re going to go to the college of your dreams with a full ride and impress big people like the president and become famous for finding the cure for cancer. You are you and you amaze me everyday, but not just me. You impress everyone you meet including Gansey, Blue, Noah, Henry, everyone. You are so much, but none of you is that man.”

Adam had tears streaming down his faces as he nodded. Ronan pulled Adam into his chest. Ronans neck became wet with Adams tears, but neither of them cared. It took awhile for them to let go of each other.

“Two hugs in a day? Turning into a sap, Lynch.”

Ronan shut off. “Fuck off, Parrish. C’mon it’s 11:00; time for Orphan girl to get to bed.”

Awkward silence flooded through the house. Ronan led Adam and Orphan girl through the house like a mother of ducklings.

Ronan tucked Orphan girl into bed and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. As he was leaving, he waved to Adam signifing Adam to follow him.

The two went into Ronan’s room. Ronan cleared his throat and asked, “Do you want to stay over?”

“Yeah.” Adam said, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

Both worked around each other and quietly got ready for bed. Adam wondered if he should sleep on the floor like Ronan would at St. Agnes, but Ronan lifted the comforter for Adam and he got in anyway. They left as much room as they could on Ronan’s small bed. They were both laying of their backs, but Adams hands and legs were crossed while Ronan spread his legs in a wide V and had one hand on his stomach the other on his stomach. Despite the fluffy pillows and warm blanket, it was uncomfortable.

Ronan was dying to say something or ask the underlying question on both their minds. His mind went a mile a minute making it impossible to sleep, but Adam saved him from his mind.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.” Ronan answered. “What is it?”

“Do you want this?”

“Fuck, Adam.”

“Never mind.”

“No, no, of course I want this, but be more specific.”

“Me. Us. I don’t know. Do you want to be my boyfriend and go on dates and all that shit?”

“Fuck. Adam.”

“Or we could forget about all that.”

“Fuck, no. Did us kissing on my birthday mean nothing because I thought actions spoke louder than words and all that bullshit?”

“I wasn’t sure if you meant it as just a fling.”

“Have you ever seen me do something without 100%?”

“Well, no.”

“Exactly.”

“So if I kiss you right now, you won’t push me away?”

“Fuck, no.”

So Adam kissed him.

And in the morning, he woke up to bad breath morning kisses and arms snug around his body. Everything was amazing because Ronan was his boyfriend and he couldn’t be happier.