#but I fucking love tattoos in general so selfishly I wish they could all just keep theirs

[guardian-angle22]

As much as I want to believe Carlos was wearing an earring I think it was just Rafa and they didn't notice because the earring was gone in the very next take. It's like Ronen's SOS tattoo that magically appears and reappears

[reference to this post about earrings]

Oh, I definitely agree that the earring in 4x12 was just Rafa because you’re right, there were too many frames of him without it vs. one singular take with it in. But mistake or not, we now have a visual of Carlos with an earring twice so that’s enough for me to say Carlos officially has them and if the show tries to tell me otherwise then they’re wrong 😝🤣

I haven’t ever noticed the SOS tattoo disappearing tbh. But since I’ve always accepted that tattoo as part of TK since the pilot, I think that one just phases into the background for me and I never really notice it unless it’s obvious.

I can definitely see the cover up of the butterflies sometimes though which is unfortunate. I think they should just let TK have those, honestly. The Kobe & the flower on the chest (and the ass tat lol) all make sense to me for them to cover up because they’re distinctly Ronen and don’t make sense for the character of TK. But the butterflies are beautiful and they could absolutely be tied into TK’s character in my opinion.

[vlindervin7]

For @glyndwrr who sent me this: ok hi, idk if these count as loose or like full prompts or what, but I am a SLUT for proposal fics, but, but, also another thing that I rarely ever see is like. One character thinks the other character is cheating on them or breaking up with them and it causes angst, but they’re not! it was all miscommunication! like, where they’re like ok this is it. the end. they don’t love me anymore and I have no self worth. and the other ones like, no! no i love you! ? do they hate me? idk?? ok sorry bye

Here you go, love! I combined the two prompts in one fic. Hope you like it! I’m not so sure about this, tbh. AO3

There are some mentions of past abuse and Adam Parrish generally being way too fucking hard on himself.

I’m still filled with wonder (you could fool me easily)

The light shining through the thin, white curtains in front of the cracked-open window in the master bedroom at the Barns, falls onto the bed and wakes Adam up. He slowly blinks the sleep out of his eyes and inhales the scent of the light breeze entering and of early mornings, summer, contentment. Next to him, Ronan is lying on his stomach, arms stuffed under the pillow. His face is turned towards Adam. His mouth is slightly open, his long lashes cast shadows across his cheekbones. Ronan doesn’t always look at ease while sleeping, but this is one of the times he does. He looks like it’s the first decent sleep he’s had for a while and Adam tries to push down the overwhelming feeling when he realizes it might very well be because of him.

Adam Parrish is home for the summer after his third year away at college. He’s in love and happy.

He arrived yesterday, his bag is still in the corner, unpacked. Adam dropped it there with the knowledge that he has almost three whole months to put away his stuff if he wants to, but yesterday was not the time. It was the time, however, of hugging Opal, carrying out a blanket and lying down on it with his whimsical family and eat the hotdogs Ronan had made for dinner.

(‘I sure missed your homemade food’, he’d drily remarked upon seeing what Ronan had prepared for his first night back at the Barns.

‘Shut up, asshole. You know you did.’ And God, if it wasn’t the food, he had missed Ronan’s particular kind of pet names, the fuck you’s that sound more like I love you’s.)

It was also the time for kissing, lots of kissing and well, a little more than kissing. After having put Opal to bed and having read her a story like she always requested when he was there, Adam let Ronan take him apart with his hands, his mouth until it felt like he was crumbling, until Ronan had run out of curse words to mix with Adam’s name, until all the air had returned to Adam’s lungs; the kind of oxygen only Ronan can give him.

They’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms, I love you and I missed you mumbled right before the world fell away and made place for his dreams.

Now, he watches Ronan’s back lift in time with his breathing. His tattoo is illuminated too and the stark black creates an almost otherworldly contrast. Adam scoots closer after checking the clock and seeing the red 05:34 flickering. His internal clock is still adjusted to college, but that doesn’t mean he has to listen to it.

Ronan cracks his eyes open when Adam lays closer to him. He gives Adam a lazy smile and turns around so Adam can rest his head on his chest and he can circle his arms around the rest of him.

They get another three and a half hours of sleep.

*

Three weeks, Adam’s been back at the Barns now. He loves Harvard, he loves the atmosphere on campus. He loves to be surrounded by people who all came to that place for one thing: learning. He likes the new friends he’s made. The quiet places he finds himself studying until way too late in the library. He feels the relief of being rid of his past that still hangs all over Henrietta. He loves college. But it doesn’t compare to the serenity and happiness he feels when he’s at the Barns.

It’s probably not the Barns specifically, Adam thinks. It’s more a mixture of magic and Ronan and Opal all in one place. It’s the closest thing to a real home he’s ever had, though he’s pretty sure he could get this feeling anywhere as long as Ronan and his dreams are there. They’re the ones he’s coming home to, not the Barns.

The three last weeks have consisted of running through the fields, of taking the BMW and going for a drive through the deserted streets, of finding a field somewhere and watching the stars and making out. They consist of summer things, of time to spend and happiness. Gansey, Blue and Henry are back in town too, for a while and they go to Nino’s like they used to do despite Blue’s complaints that the pizza is terrible and the only reason they went there is because she worked there, but they go anyway because the pizzas taste like nostalgia now.

It’s almost perfect and Adam hasn’t felt this good in a long time.

Almost perfect. Something’s wrong.

He doesn’t know how to explain it or to name exactly what it is that feels wrong, he just knows there’s something not quite right. Something about Ronan that doesn’t feel entirely right.

He spends more time than usual working, tinkering away at the Barns, in town for some reason and when Adam asks about it the only response he gets is ‘farm stuff.’ And sure, Ronan is serious about farming, more serious than he’s ever been about anything Aglionby, but he’s never worked this hard before.

He kisses Adam every day, whispers quiet, reverent I love yous in the crook of his neck. He wraps his arms around Adam’s waist, feeds him when Adam comes back from the shifts he still picks up sometimes at the factory or Boyd’s; not because he necessarily has to anymore, but because it feels like safety and surety. Ronan still does all the things he always does to show his special brand of love. But.

But he doesn’t catch Adam’s eye as much anymore and his actions may show that he loves Adam, but it’s in his eyes, when he finally let his guard down, that Adam saw those feelings reflected for sure. Sometimes when Adam smiles at him from across the room, he gives a smile back but instead of intensely holding his gaze like he used to do, he looks away and watches something else instead. Or Adam catches Ronan watching him with a detached look in his eyes which Adam knows means he doesn’t want Adam to see whatever it is he’s really feeling. It reminds Adam of the way he looked at him before.

Before the kiss in his childhood bedroom, before their best friend died and then came back to life again, before the wonderful summer followed by Adam’s first year at college, that taught Adam about love and family and belonging.

It reminds Adam of before everything and it hurts to see that look again. He doesn’t know what’s happened that made Ronan climb back into his shell of secrets and darkness; the possibilities he comes up with are not things he wants to think about. With all his heart, he wishes he’s wrong.

Because the most logical reason for all of this is he doesn’t want this anymore.

At first, he thought he was overreacting and Ronan was most likely simply getting used to having Adam around all the time again. So, he pushed the though away. It’s not like he could just confront Ronan about it, anyway. They’ve gotten better at actual communication the past three years, but still. He couldn’t just ask Ronan what was wrong with him when he couldn’t even say what it was that was different exactly, just that it was.

And when he let himself think it finally, he wants this to end it was worse, because dammit, if that was really what Ronan wanted, then – then Adam wouldn’t be the one starting that conversation. He’d let himself selfishly and masochistically enjoy the last moments together. Some prideful part of him wants to run and break it off himself before Ronan gets the chance to, but the truth is that it scares him and the realization of it all just hurts him so much. And his heart, God – he never thought it’d be this bad. He’s known pain in his life, more than most people his age and to be honest, he thought he was accustomed to it. But maybe pain is just something you never really get used to.

The first time he truly realized what was going, was when he tried to take Ronan’s hand in his. Ronan let him, looked down at their linked fingers and promptly made up some bullshit excuse about checking up on Opal and he was gone.

Adam actually almost bust out in tears because what the fuck? Is Ronan that uncomfortable with even the smallest of touches?

He spent so long trying to come to terms with the fact that yes, Adam Parrish is not only worthy of a crush; he’s worthy of being someone’s boyfriend too. He’s worthy of soft kisses and loving glances. He’s worthy of loving, being loved. He’s worthy of love. And that by Ronan Lynch of all people, who does not love easily. Who either loves you with all he has to give, or does not like you at all. And he loved Adam.

It wasn’t easy for him to lose control and give himself completely. To move into the Barns, to do long distance relationship when for the longest time he was convinced he shouldn’t tie himself to this place. And yet, he did all that.

The last three years have been the most wonderful of his life. College is everything he’s ever hoped for, it’s a chance to start anew, to be free of judgement and his shitty past. Granted, it would’ve been easier if he didn’t miss Ronan the way he does, like a part of his heart is actually missing from his chest and sometimes so much he can’t sleep and barely even has the ability to breathe properly until he gets Ronan on the phone, which. Yes, Ronan has learned to use his phone, thank God, but it’s still not the easiest thing in the world.

There have been times when it was hard, to be apart for so long, but they carefully found a way to work and make things lighter to bear. Adam has never once regretted their relationship.

And he was so sure Ronan felt the same; that he was all in from the beginning. And maybe he was. And maybe the distance was too much anyway. Maybe he tried to give all his love and maybe it faded anyway. Maybe when he saw Adam after his third year, he realized that really, he’s not worth all the trouble, after all.

Adam has no difficulty believing that.

All the words his father had sneered at him while he was half-unconscious come back to him, now. Worthless, a waste of space, un-fucking-lovable. Though the last one was never explicitly said, his father didn’t use words like love, it was clear when the punches landed on him and his mother blamed him afterwards.

And then Ronan proved him otherwise, but now Ronan realized that no, this isn’t what he wants after all. Turns out Adam really is unlovable. No real surprise there, though there is disappointment. Because for a moment, Adam actually believed Ronan saw more than the trailer park and dirt painted all over him.

He really should be used to people letting him down, by now. He doesn’t even blame him.

It just hurts.

So much.

He’s not completely sure. He could be overreacting, could be imagining things, the demons from his past may just be playing tricks on his brain, but he can’t find another explanation for Ronan’s distant behavior.

He tries to ignore those thoughts anyway, because he holds onto that one little sparkle of hope that still says that maybe he’s wrong.

*

‘C’mon, Parrish, we’re going for a drive.’

Adam looks up from the book of summer reading, on his lap. He’s sitting on the couch, Chainsaw picking at his hair. It’s calming. The way only Ronan and his dreams are.

It used to bother Adam, how Ronan often just decides things for the both of them, assumes things without ever talking. But now he knows that Ronan rarely does anything without a valid reason. If he wants to go for a drive, it’s probably because some of his reckless energy that dates back to his teenage years, isn’t entirely gone and he needs to release it somehow. Sometimes he does that by violently engaging Adam in a make out session, sometimes he simply needs to get out of the house, alone or with Adam by his side.  

Ronan assuming things used to bother Adam because no, that’s not the relationship he was looking for. Not again. He’s had enough of people telling him what to do for a lifetime. He needs his freedom, needs to make his own decisions. But that’s the thing. He realized that by telling Adam We’re going for a drive, he doesn’t mean it as something official, a decision made. It’s merely the only way he can think of to express himself. Through harsh words, as little as possible. So instead of saying Do you want to join me for a drive, Adam? I’d enjoy your company he says it like that. Though, honestly? He’s kind of happy Ronan doesn’t talk like that. Adam would rather not date Gansey, thanks.

Adam knows Ronan won’t be angry if he says no. He’s softened over the years. His communication skills have improved, but some habits die hard.

Adam isn’t going to say no anyway. He could use a break. And he’s not going to refuse this chance when Ronan actually proposes to do something just the two of them. It feels like ages since they’ve last done anything like that.

So he gets up and follows Ronan outside.

The dark BMW is almost invisible at this late hour. The Barns always bring Adam closer to nature, like he can properly breathe again. The lack of superficial light that usually chases the true essence of the night away, is telling. Though it’s never entirely dark. The fireflies are a reflection of Ronan’s dreams; they bring light, nature, no filter, nothing fabricated.

Their feet on the gravel are crunching through the silence. Ronan is throwing his keys is in the air, the jingling loud in the night. They don’t talk. Adam out of fear that Ronan is going to act distant again. And Ronan probably because he doesn’t want to interrupt the quietness of this moment, the way his mind is at ease.

Ronan settles behind the wheel, while Adam opens the door to the passenger seat. This is nice. This is normal, this is their thing. Since the beginning when their friendship wasn’t as much a friendship as it was Ronan insulting Adam and Adam trying to stay calm, not let it get to him.

‘Where are we going?’, Adam asks when Ronan turns the key and starts the engine. The wheels being dragged across the gravel echo through the night when Ronan turns the steering wheel and guides them outside, through the intricate little roads around the Barns, until they finally arrive on a wide, open road. The likes of which were often used for street racing, when Ronan still ran with that crowd, when Kavinsky was still alive.

‘It’s a surprise’, Ronan then answers, which Adam translates into I don’t know. More often than not, Ronan simply drives around to clear his thoughts or finds an empty field where they can stop. Watch the stars. Kiss. Talk.

So, Adam leans against the headrest and lets his eyes take in the landscape flashing by. Henrietta during summer is mostly dry and dusty. An all too strong reminder of the place Adam once upon a time had to call home. But he tries to not think of that right now, tries to link the images to the summer he’s spent at the Barns, a place he now gets to call home and that genuinely feels like it too.

Nevertheless, while he manages to do that most of the time, there’s still a weight, a dark cloud hanging above Henrietta. No matter how many new memories he makes, there will always be days where he’ll look at the fields and be reminded of the one behind the trailer park. He will always unintentionally check his surroundings before entering a store when he happens to be in town, even though he’s aware his father can’t do anything anymore. It’s hard to let go and he still hopes to one day not to feel that way.

The weight is lighter than it used to be, but it’s still there. It only completely disappears when he’s away at college. It’s almost like the air is clearer there, like there’s nothing holding him back from finally living his life free of worry and running from his past.

If one day, he has the chance to leave this town behind, he would in a heartbeat. But there’s Ronan and Adam doesn’t want to pressure him into doing things he really doesn’t want to do. He’s almost certain Ronan would follow him in any decision Adam makes, he’ll find another farm and be happy. Though, maybe it wouldn’t be his first choice.

Although, maybe his worries are for nothing and in a couple hours he’ll be alone and have the choice to do whatever he wants. With a jolt he realizes that he – he just does not want that.

Ronan’s been biting and pulling on his leather bracelets the whole ride now and he’s strangely, intensely focused on the road ahead, careful to avoid caching Adam’s eye. He’s nervous and wow, Adam thinks. This is it. This is really it. Ronan’s going to do it.

There’s a certainty crawling through his chest, slowly reaching his heart, his brain, so that no part of him has the energy to deny or ignore or push it away. He swallows the tears and wills himself to look confident and ready and strong.

It’s not as easy as it used to be.

It’s the first time the silence between the two has been palpable, loud even. Normally, it’s comfortable and they’re both stuck in their own heads and they just don’t need words. But now, it’s like the words are missing. Like someone has taken away the words and left silence when really, someone should be speaking. It’s like when you come home and you look at a wall where there used to be a painting or something, but it’s gone and when you look at it, there’s just something missing. There’s an emptiness that shouldn’t be there and it feels wrong.

That’s how the silence feels at the moment. If Adam could draw, or take things out of his dreams, he’d hang a painting right there between them.

He’s a terrible artist though, so he stays quiet and lets the wrongness expand and grow, bigger, bigger still.

Suddenly, Ronan jerks to a stops, unnecessarily dangerous. Adam is so used to it by now he doesn’t even startle.

‘Did you bring me here to kill me?’, Adam says, as a poor attempt to lighten the mood. His voice is weak, though, and he’s sure Ronan can see right through the light tone of voice.

Ronan barely even smirks and just shakes his head. He gets out of the car. Adam follows.

Ronan has brought them to a place in the middle of nowhere (to be fair, the entirety of Henrietta is basically the middle of nowhere, but this is even more nowhere than usually), in the mountains. They had to cross a small forest to get here, but it was worth it. They’ve found themselves in a clearing in the middle of the woods. Trees around them form a perfect circle, but the foliage is large enough to cover up most of the clearing anyway. He can’t say for sure, but Adam thinks there’s enough place for sunlight to enter, so it must be beautiful during the day. Not that it’s any less beautiful at night.

The ground is covered in grass and when he looks up, Adam can faintly see stars through the leaves. The moonlight shines through and illuminates the circle like it was made exactly for that purpose. The place has such a strong sense of magic, and symmetry and a wholeness where everything just fits, Gansey would say coincidence?

It reminds Adam of Cabeswater and he has a sudden surge of nostalgia and longing for that magical forest.

‘Did you dream this?’, Adam asks in awe, looking around mesmerized and reverently, distracted by the absolute beauty of it all that he momentarily forgets about the fact that Ronan is most likely going to break up with him in the next two minutes. Though, he doesn’t understand why he brought him here to do it.

‘No’, Ronan says. ‘I just found it once, while I was driving around.’

The branches of the trees have grown in such a way that it seems as if they’re extending their arms and trying to comfort Adam though an embrace. Oh, how he wishes he could hug them back. How he wishes he could feel a flare of Cabeswater surge inside him, just to feel less alone, less miserable.

‘Parrish.’ Ronan’s voice cuts through his thoughts, thought the silence. A breeze makes leaves fall, but it’s still warm enough for it to be pleasant.

‘Are you breaking up with me?’ Adam decides it will be less painful if they just go straight to the matter at hand, like a band-aid. Quick, and then it’s over.

‘What?’, Ronan asks violently. His head snaps around from where he was looking at the ground, to finally, finally, look Adam in the eye. His jaw is tense and there’s something harsh in the blue eyes that are piercing into Adam’s. But an angry Ronan can mean anything, so he doesn’t let that fool him.

‘Are you ending this? Do you not want this anymore? Because if you do, then I don’t see why you brought me to this magical place and – ‘

‘What the fuck are you talking about, Adam?’

‘Do you want to break up with me?’, he repeats, every word emphasized. ‘Please, just answer my question and get it over with.’

Ronan looks confused and then hurt and then a mixture of both. Softly, almost as feathery as a whisper, he asks; ‘Is that what you want?’

A tear has managed to escape out of the corner of Adam’s eye. Quickly, he wipes it away. He doesn’t want to be put in a vulnerable position, doesn’t like it when people see him cry. He remembers what you used to happen at the trailer park when he cried, and the reflex of hiding the tears as soon as they fall out is still inside him.

‘Obviously not.’

‘Then what the fuck?’ Ronan comes closer and brings a hand to Adam’s face, most likely wanting to wipe away another tear that’s falling, but thinks better of it and pulls back. ‘I don’t want that either.’

It takes a while for the words to sink in, his heart seems to be running late. ‘Then why did you – why were you so distant and – and why are we here? Why did – ‘

Ronan pushes something into Adam’s hand and folds Adam’s fingers around it, gently. It’s cold on his skin. Before letting go of his hand, Ronan softly kisses the back of it.

When Adam opens it, he is greeted with the sight of a ring, silver and catching in the moonlight, some sort of engraving on it that Adam can’t properly see like this. It’s beautiful and it takes Adam too long to realize it’s meant for him. And then his breath catches in his throat. He thinks he might faint. No scratch that, he might actually die.

‘Marry me, Adam’, Ronan says then, looking at him with a nervous look on his face.

Adam doesn’t believe this. Can’t believe this. Surely he’s dreaming right now. Ronan might know when he’s awake and when he’s dreaming, but Adam doesn’t always know the difference. ‘What?’, he whispers finally.

‘Let’s get fucking married, Adam.’

Now, when Adam meets Ronan’s eye, the other boy is wearing the hint of a smile, but it’s not really there. His eyes still reflect his nerves and fear, but there’s a hopeful undertone there too. And a tenderness in his gaze Adam recognizes as love.

‘I – I don’t –‘

‘I know it’s fast and unexpected, I didn’t know how to ask and how you’d react, but I just – I want this and I always will. I – I couldn’t not ask.’

‘Yes.’

‘What?’ For a moment, Ronan looks surprised and doesn’t say anything. All he does is hold his gaze on Adam as if he’s frozen to his place, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. His deep blue eyes focused on Adam’s face, without blinking. It’s a little bit like the way he looks when he brings back a dream and is paralyzed for a couple of seconds. Then, his smile breaks open on his face and Adam is, after all these years spent together, still taken aback by the force that one smile of Ronan Lynch has on the world.

Before they became a thing, Adam already knew Ronan’s smiles could set the world on fire, could probably start a war. But those smiles were sharp and bitter and yielded like a knife, out there to destroy his enemies. It was the opposite of what a smile is supposed to be, really. It belonged in the middle of a battlefield, it was not surprising that it belonged to a boy made of fire and smoke.

But this smile, his real smile, the one approximately five people on this world have had the honor of seeing and live to tell the tale, is powerful in an entirely different way. The pure and all-encompassing happiness that it takes to put that smile on Ronan Lynch’s face is strong enough to grow a forest, or – or cure cancer or something. It’s so strong, blinding almost. Adam loves it and wants to keep it in his heart forever so that when he’s sad, missing Ronan in college, he can take it out and look at it and feel a little better.

‘Yes, Ronan, I’ll marry you.’

Ronan pulls Adam closer by the back of his head, the other hand fisted in his shirt and kisses him. Kisses him and kisses him and kisses him. Until his lips are numb and the air in his lungs is gone and his heart is beating out of his chest, trying to connect to Ronan’s. Beat in sync.

‘I can’t fucking wait. Let’s got to Vegas right now,’ Ronan says when they finally pull back, their foreheads still pressed together and their breaths mingling as if they’re breathing as one.

‘I mean, sure. If you want Gansey to kill us because he won’t get to be best man and give one of his long-ass speeches.’

‘Man’, Ronan chuckles, ‘he’s going to fucking cry.’

‘Yeah, he is.’ Adam can see it and he can’t help the little, disbelieving laugh spilling from his lips. He can’t believe this is real. Ronan smiles softly when he hears the sound.

‘He’s going to cry more than you are. At our wedding.’, Ronan says.

‘Me? If one of us is crying at our wedding, it’s most definitely you.’

‘Just wait ‘till you hear my vows! No eye will remain dry, hey that rhymes. I’ll even manage to make Declan shed a tear and we all know he’s got a heart of ice.’

Adam can’t stop smiling at Ronan’s carefree speech. ‘We’re writing our own vows then?’

‘I don’t know. We’ll see. Probably better if we don’t. I wouldn’t know how to – how to put all this into words.’

He doesn’t have to specify what this means, Adam can guess.

Then he remembers the ring he’s still holding in his hand and detaches himself from Ronan. He looks at it again and the way the light catches on it, the moon reflected, it’s truly perfect. Simple, but beautiful. Just the way Ronan knows Adam likes it.

He carefully slides it on his ring finger and he thinks yes, because this is his life now. He’s at an Ivy League and has the chance to escape this town, he’s loved and here he is, sliding the engagement ring of a wonderful, breathtaking boy on his finger and he’s happy. Which isn’t something that used to be on his list of things he wanted.

What do you want, Adam?

To get out of Henrietta.

To feel awake when my eyes are open.

To be successful.

To marry Ronan Lynch.

To be happy.

That’s all there is.

Ronan watches Adam look at the ring, Adam feels his gaze. He can’t believe he actually thought Ronan was going to break up with him. He was so sure and God, he would’ve never in a million years considered this to be the reason of Ronan’s strange behavior. But he’s so, so glad to be wrong for once.

And yes, it may be fast and they may be young. But they’ve had to endure way more than any person their age should have to go through. So why shouldn’t the good things come early too? Their lives have been hard enough, now it’s time for the happy tears.

They don’t have to get married right away, though Adam wouldn’t mind. It’s not like it’s going to be a big thing. They don’t have that many people to invite, anyway and that’s fine, because the people that are here are more than enough. Maybe Adam wants to invite some of his college friends, maybe Ronan wants to invite some of the people he got to know through farming.

And even if they don’t get married immediately, the ring on their finger will be a reminder that they’re in it for the long run. That this is it. They are loved. They knew this before, of course, but the doubt takes every chance to creep back inside when things get a little rough. When the distance takes its toll and they end up lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, debating whether they should call or not. Whether the other wants them to call. Whether all the times apart have taken away the others feeling. Whether it’s all been a dream after all.

But the ring will be there to remind them of a promise made. By two boys who hold their promises close to their heart like it’s all they have.

And if they do end up getting married soon, then Adam will definitely not complain.

‘I’m thinking of moving closer to you,’ Ronan says then, breaking the silence.

‘But The Barns. You love The Barns, I thought – I don’t want you to sacrifice that for me.’

Ronan is quiet for a moment. Then he says with certainty in his voice: ‘The Barns were my father’s. I’m not going to sell them, but. I just – I want to make something of my own.’

‘That’s’, Adam is overcome by emotions, all of a sudden. ‘That’s great, Ronan.’

‘And I’m tired of missing you.’

‘Me too.’

Ronan kisses him again, soft this time, without the hunger of before.

‘I love you’, Adam whispers.

Ronan smiles again. Adam is addicted to that smile, he thinks he could live off that smile if he tried. ‘I love you too’, he whispers back.

It echoes into the night, the trees rustle like they agree. If Adam closes his eyes, he can almost pretend he’s back in Cabeswater. Happy.  

I hope you liked it! *fingers crossed* Why do I have to end each fic I write with an I love you? I’m too sappy, it’s A Problem. God. Anyway. The title is from ‘Sleep baby sleep’ by Broods, which is such a Pynch song, tbh.

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Love, Jasmine

[gerxrdwxy]

Happy Birthday Gerard

Read it on ao3 By PagebyPaige

Summary: Gerard is 40 and that’s a big fucking deal to Frank - big enough to do something drastic.

Word Count: 2425 Chapters: 1/1 Language: English

•Fandoms: My Chemical Romance •Rating: General Audiences •Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply •Categories: M/M, F/M •Characters: Gerard Way, Frank Iero, Lindsey Way (mention), Jamia Iero (mention) •Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Frank Iero/Jamia Nestor, Lindsey Ballato/Gerard Way •Additional Tags: Angst, Fluff, Angst with Fluff, Happy Birthday Gerard, Birthday Fic, Gerard is 40 wtf, post-mcr, present day, stop tagging paige

April 9th, 2017. It has been circled on Frank’s calendar ever since he bought one. He bought the tickets around the same time, months before he needed to. He has three days in LA, and seats in the roiling pit of the crowd. He has glasses and a hoodie, even gloves to cover up his identifying knuckle tattoos. He is ready, and he’s going like a fan. This is going to be the surprise of his life, Frank thinks.

This has to be Frank’s millionth plane ride to a show, but he’s still jittery. This isn’t even his show, but it isn’t just any show, either. He again reaches into his carry-on, checking to make sure it’s there. He runs his hands over it, feeling the soft fabric. He feels the card he pinned to the back of it, and he almost cries again. He really hopes Gerard likes it.

Frank can feel his emotions boiling up as he strokes the shirt in his bag. Gerard is 40. He’s grown up so much since Frank first saw him at 25, barely alive and desperate for something to cling to, and at the same time Frank can still see the little 25-year-old in Gerard’s face, the hope and the dreams paired with their real-life counterparts in his memory. Gerard has everything that 25-year-old ever wanted, and yet the only way he’s really changed is that he’s happier and healthier.

Frank also kind of feels like he’s slipping out of Gerard’s life. That 25-year-old let Frank into his band because they needed an extra guy, but now Gerard could have as many extra guys as he wanted. Frank’s first real crush was on that 25-year-old, who by the time he hit 27 loved him back.

By 30 he was married and still they stayed in love.

By 32 he had a daughter and still kissed Frank just as passionately, still told him he loved him when no one was listening to them, or when thousands were.

All it took, apparently, for him to fall out of love with Frank was 36. Frank knows Gerard’s mental state wasn’t the best then, so it was better for him not to deal with the emotional stress of having a family and loving Frank, but that doesn’t make it any easier for Frank. He stubbornly, selfishly believes that Gerard still harbors some feelings for him deep inside and he’s desperate to feel that again. Even Jamia has never made him feel quite like Gerard did, and Frank is willing to risk their friendship to prove himself right.

Frank reads the card over and over again, thinking about what he’s about to do. He feels so awful about it but he can’t stand not doing it either. Frank pulls the army green button down that Gerard repeatedly stole from him out of his bag. After Gerard announced the breakup and by extension their breakup Frank had stolen it back, telling himself it was because it was his and he needed it back if they weren’t going to be practically living together anymore, and definitely not because it smelled like Gerard. Frank pulls it out of his bag now, buries his face in the scent of Gerard and cries on a plane on his way to see the now 40-year-old be successful without him.

—

When Frank gets to his hotel room he doesn’t even bother to unpack fully. He grabs the hat, sunglasses, and gloves, for once not caring how hot it is in April in California. He gets to the venue way too early and enters with the first crowd. He makes it to his seat with obstructions and sits quietly, checking his phone. On impulse, Frank tweets a ‘Happy Birthday’ at Gerard and shuts his phone off, not wanting to see the thousands of retweets from fans saying exactly what he’s thinking.

When Frank makes it through the opening act without shitting himself he feels like he deserves a medal. He and Gerard haven’t even seen each other in person since 2014 and they only really talk occasionally (the group chat doesn’t really count) on the phone. He’s practically vibrating with nerves plus the added bonus of there being a chance someone recognizing him and ruining the surprise, resulting him getting completely mobbed. Of course, this is the one show where practically everyone in the room would know who he is.

When Gerard goes on, Frank actually cries. Just hearing Gerard sing again, live, gives him flashbacks to heated kisses under the eager eye of an audience, rushed and sloppy and fumbling because of the adrenaline haze of being on stage. Frank wishes he was up there beside his best friend, shredding and jumping and injuring people and touching him. Frank just stands, half-sobbing the words to songs that he definitely hasn’t cried over before. A girl with lavender hair and a 2001-infinity tattoo pats his arm gently and then goes back to singing along. By Gerard’s last song Frank has dried his tears but his hands and voice still shake as he slowly composes himself.

By the time Frank has gotten himself together most of the crowd has emptied out and he can easily make his way up towards the front in the direction of the dressing rooms. Dressing rooms that he has stayed in, since this is a venue that MCR played. When he reaches the barrier security moves to block him when he takes a risk and removes the sunglasses. One of the guys was on the MCR crew during Black Parade and gives him a curt nod. Frank replaces his glasses to be safe and heads back into the depths of backstage.

Frank follows the tunnel, removing hat and glasses and gloves as he goes. He sees some familiar faces and puts a finger to his lips when their jaws drop. They nod overenthusiastically back and Frank continues on, his determined step shaky. He carries the shirt neatly folded under his arm, the card stock of the note tucked inside it poking his arm with every step.

His guess is as good as anyone’s which dressing room Gerard is in, but he takes a shot and knocks on the one he and they guys were in years before. When Gerard opens the door sweaty and ruffled, Frank almost cries again. Both of them sputter awkwardly in the doorway, equally shocked and feeling too many emotions at seeing each other. Gerard eventually steps aside, allowing Frank to come inside. He gently closes the door behind them and Gerard falls back onto a couch. Frank stands awkwardly in front of it, all of the sudden unsure of what to even say.

“Um,” Frank breaks the silence and somehow manages to make things even more awkward. “Happy Birthday?” Frank looks at the floor. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. When he looks up again, Gerard is smiling. He’s grinning that happy little smile that usually only really special people get to see; the one with his tiny little teeth poking out and even his eyes turning up at the corners.

“You came all the way out to LA, bought tickets to my show, and stalked me in my dressing room just to tell me happy birthday?!” Gerard is incredulous, but still grinning. “You ridiculous bastard.” He giggles a little bit and stands up, the ice having been broken. They’re almost as easy together as they used to be, even after three or four years apart.

Frank can’t help himself. He drops everything he’s holding and walks over to the still-smiling Gerard, hugging him tightly. As soon as they touch, Frank is overwhelmed by just Gerard. Frank lays his head on Gerard’s shoulder and feels all of his muscles relax. Any previous apprehension he had about coming is erased just by being in Gerard’s hold. Too soon, Frank feels Gerard gingerly peeling them apart. He backs off reluctantly, almost tripping over the clothes he dropped. As he struggles to remain standing, Frank follows Gerard’s eyes to the mound of stuff on the floor. On top of it is the still mostly folded green shirt. Gerard raises his eyebrows at him and it’s pretty much now or never.

Frank picks up the shirt and smooths it gently, subtly checking to make sure the note is still there. He holds it out to Gerard.

“Happy Birthday, Gerard.” Frank tries to keep a straight face, which involves biting the inside of his cheek to keep from bursting into sobs. He hopes Gerard knows what this means, but isn’t sure if it would really be worse if Gerard had forgotten. Soon enough, the recognition flashes in Gerard’s eyes and then a frenzy of emotions, some of which Frank can’t even name, flash across his face as he stares down at the shirt that has been transferred to his waiting hands.

“Frank, I can’t take this.” He looks up, avoiding Frank’s eyes. “It’s yours.”

Frank feels a spark of anger course through his body. You took things from me all the time, including this shirt. Frank doesn’t realize until he sees the look on Gerard’s face that his retort wasn’t entirely in his head.

Gerard puts his head in his hands, nearly smothering himself with the shirt. His voice develops an edge that cuts though the shirt that muffles him when he says, “That was different.” Frank can feel his face fall.

“S-sorry I shouldn’t have-” Gerard lets his arms, and the shirt, fall to his sides.

“Frank, you have to realize that things are different now! We’re both married and we have kids and here we are acting like a high school couple!” If Frank’s going to go all the way back home now and be miserable, at least he’s going to go out with a bang.

“I just miss you, okay? I’m not happy. We’re looking into divorce papers; we’ve already worked out what to do with the kids. I never see you anymore, and the best parts of my life had you in them. My life isn’t going the way I want it to, okay Gerard?”

“You know Frank, I’m not here just because your life isn’t-”

“Do you love her?” Frank has to force the words out. Everything seems to be pressing down on him, willing him to just give up.

“Of course I… this is stupid!” Gerard’s face gets a little redder. “My ex boyfriend should not be standing here asking me if I love my wife!”

“Then finish that sentence,” Frank challenges.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s ridiculous.”

“Well if it’s so ridiculous, why can’t you say it?”

“Because… I…” Gerard fumbles for words.

“You’re not happy either, are you?” Frank’s every word is a dare, his voice getting stronger as he spins his pain into anger. “Are you?” Frank is seething at this point, all of his pent-up feelings for Gerard coming out as one huge wave of anger. “Goddamnit Gerard, are you fucking happy with her or not!?”

Gerard buries his face in the shirt again.

“I’m not dmfnit!” Gerard mumbles into the shirt, and it sounds suspiciously like “I’m not, damnit!” Which is, of course, exactly what Frank wants to hear. Frank listens closer, hoping to hear better and make sure Gerard said what it sounded like he did. He hears sobs instead, increasing rapidly in volume until Gerard is flat out crying into Frank’s shirt. Just like Frank did hours earlier.

Tentatively, Frank walks over and puts his hand on Gerard’s back. Gerard shakes him off.

“Leave me alone,” he says into the shirt.

“I’ll go. Whatever. Just read the card.” Gerard kind of snort-groans but lifts his head, revealing puffy eyes and tears wetting his cheeks. Frank feels his heart break a little more at the sight. Reluctantly, Gerard fishes around in the shirt, finding the card pinned to the inside of it mostly legible. As soon as he reads the first line, Gerard says exactly what Frank wants him to.

“Frank, wait.” So Frank does. As he waits in silence, he feels the wave of anger ebb into love for the man in front of him as he stands silently and thinks about the words he so meticulously copied onto that little piece of card stock.

“I’d end my days with you in a hail of bullets /

I’m trying, I’m trying, /

to let you know just how much you mean to me /

and after all the things we put each other through /

and I feel like there’s nothing left to do /

but prove myself to you /

but this time, I mean it /

I’ll let you know just how much you mean”

-Demoliton Lovers, but you know that. You wrote it, after all. I pulled lines from your  our song because I figured then you’d understand that this is how I feel about you. Still. Damn it, I love you Gerard. I just wanted you to know that. I know I probably just ruined it, but Happy Birthday Gerard! I hope 40 treats you well. I really do. xofrnk

Gerard stares at the card in his hands, turning it over and over.

“This is…-”

“Yep.”

“And you really…”

“Yep.”

They stand there, the silence thick and tense.

“Well if you don’t have anything else to say, I’m going to get going…”

“Frank, wait.”

“What?”

“I’m just.. trying to figure this out.”

“What is there to figure out? Do you want to be with me or not?”

“Frank… I just need some time. Okay? Frankie, I love you. I do. It’s just, I’ve been trying so hard to forget us that having it back is… complicated.” Frank takes a second to breathe, partly to keep his anger at bay and partly to keep from running over and kissing Gerard’s face off.

“I’ll wait for you, Gerard. I’ll always wait for you.” Frank feels himself stumbling forward, half falling into Gerard’s arms. Gerard drops shirt and card in favor of holding Frank.

“Then I guess we’ll have to figure something out.” Is whispered into Frank’s hair.

“Yes, I we will.” Is said through a grin into Gerard’s shirt.

“I love you, Frankie.” Frank can feel himself melting both at the words and the nickname.

“I love you, too. And we’re gonna get through this, okay? No matter how long it takes.” Frank feels Gerard nod against the top of his head and they quickly untangle themselves when there’s a knock at the door. Frank folds his arms awkwardly as Gerard opens the door.

“Oh, hi Lindsey.”

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10581510