#they have a fight and cabeswater shows adam what ronan dreamt about last night that scared him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nightmare-hennessy · 5 years ago

Text

with you wherever

pairing: adam parrish/ronan lynch

rating: teen & up audiences

read on ao3

"What am I dreaming?"

"Dream me a fix for the shitbox so I can go and can come back. And then dream up a new Cabeswater. It doesn't have to be like the other one. Just as good as you can make it."

So Ronan had done exactly that. It had taken him all day and a good chunk of the night. Adam and Opal had been standing there, watching the most important person in both their lives sleep in the passenger seat of the BMW, arms pretzeled, his chest heaving and sinking calmly as he dreamt.

After a few minutes, Opal had taken Adam's hand and squeezed it. After an hour or so, she had let go and sunk to the ground to curl up right then and there. Another five minutes later, she had been asleep.

Adam hadn't been worried about her sleeping on the ground, or outside in general; she was a dream thing, and also a little brat, she wouldn't listen to anything he said anyway. She really was entirely Ronan's doing.

So Adam had bent down and gently booped her nose, before he had climbed in the driver's seat next to his boyfriend, knees pulled up to his chest with his feet on the leather seat. Ronan would have murdered him if he'd been awake, and Adam had smiled at that thought.

☾

Now they were standing in the middle of a forest. The air was thick with fog and mist, the sun unable to get all the way through. Adam found himself wondering if Ronan had dreamt it like this, or if it really just was an early fall morning.

He fumbled with the watches on his wrist. He had two now. One, his old one with Opal's teeth marks on the leather band, strapped right over his pulse, showed Henrietta time. Linear time. The other one was new. It was the first thing Ronan had held out to him after shaking off the after-dreaming paralysis. It was a digital one, way too fancy for Adam's taste — and Ronan knew that — but Adam quickly understood what it was good for.

Time was a complicated thing, on the ley line, in Cabeswater. That was probably the thing that had fucked his mind up the most over the past years. Not the bargain he had made with a mystical and magical forest, promising to be his hands and eyes; not finding out one of his friends had been dead all along and he had been basically talking to a ghost the entire time; not being possessed by an evil demon that tried to unmake everything he loved — tried to unmake Ronan. None of that had made him — smart, analytical Adam Parrish — frown like understanding the concept of time did; understanding that time was a circle; understanding what that meant.

His new watch showed the time passing. He knew from all the times visiting the old Cabeswater that he had never been sure, had never been able to tell, if he'd spent minutes, hours or days wandering the moss-covered grounds. Sometimes, he had been able to feel the time, along with the pulsing of the ley line.

The trees around them were tall and their crowns spread out so widely they were entangled with one another. Adam saw birds sitting on the branches, heard bees buzzing somewhere to his right.

"Gansey would love it here," he commented with a smirk. It was the first time any of them had spoken since getting out of the BMW and walking straight into this magical place and his voice sounded a bit damped by all the leaves around him.

Ronan was standing to his left, his deaf side, so Adam didn't catch everything he said except "-st not hornets."

At least not hornets. Adam grinned just imagining Gansey's eye twitching at that.

Opal was spinning around her own axis, arms stretched out wide away from her tiny body, and she laughed. Her eyes were closed and her hooves somehow managed to look right instead of weird for once.

Ronan reached out to grab her shoulder, stopping her from frolicking around. "Quit fu— messing about," he said in this particular harsh but fond voice that was reserved for Opal, and sometimes Adam, only, "There's more to see."

Adam looked around the huge stretch of grass around them that was the clearing between the massive trees. A small village could be build here, he was sure. "More?"

Ronan grinned wickedly, "You didn't underestimate me, did you, Parrish?"

Adam caught his eye, this familiar light shade of blue. His stomach lurched and flipped like it always did, still, even after almost a year of being with Ronan. "I would never."

They took off across the clearing, Opal galloping ahead as if she knew where to go. Ronan created her like he created this, Cabeswater, old and new, so she probably did know.

They found a small trail between the trees, leading into the woods. Adam was the one towing behind. If he hadn't been continuously becoming happier and happier over the past months, he was sure his face would be hurting by now from smiling so much. But it didn't. His mouth stretched out from ear to ear and he felt an overwhelming wave of pure joy when Ronan reached back and took his hand in his.

It was crazy, he realized when he thought back, how quickly he had become addicted to this, to the feeling of Ronan's fingers fitting perfectly in the gaps between his, to the casual kisses, the more intent kisses, the hugs — Adam didn't know why but he had never thought of Ronan Lynch as a good hugger. He had been wrong. Ronan was the best of them all.

Ronan pulled him out of the woods — literally. They stumbled onto another wide stretch of grass. To the left, there were mountains now, but Adam wasn't sure if they'd forever stay just mountains or if they'd become something, or if they already were something �� something sentient, something living. Everything was possible here.

A hundred yards in front of them there was a pond. Bright blue and turquoise and oval-shaped and unreal. The colors seemed over-saturated and would probably be downright blinding if the lake's surface wasn't rippled by raindrop after raindrop.

That's when Adam noticed the rain. He had to see it before he could feel it, despite standing in it for almost a minute now, his clothes already wet and clinging to him awkwardly.

Opal was dancing again but when Adam looked closer, he realized there wasn't just raindrops streaming down her face, but also tears.

"You got the rain," he said.

"Of course I got the fucking rain." Ronan's voice was quieter, softer than usual, but somehow, he still managed to sound a little bit like a smug asshole.

Adam elbowed him. He couldn't help it. This was it, this was it. The new Cabeswater, the new Cabeswater with wonderful trees and mysterious mountains and a bright lake and rain that made you feel happy and sad at the same time. "You did it, Lynch."

The corners of Ronan's mouth twitched. Adam knew he was feeling the giddiness and melancholy of the rain as well, he was just better at hiding it behind sharp cheekbones and thin lips.

"I told you you could do it."

"You just have to have the last word, don't you?"

"Absolutely." And then Adam kissed him. He didn't care that Opal was still there — thinking about it, he had never cared if she saw them exchanging romantic gestures — he wrapped both hands around the back of Ronan's neck and pulled him in until their mouths collided messily.

Ronan was still, despite the fact that Adam had grown a few inches over the summer, significantly taller, and he was being a dick about it, so Adam had to get all the way up to his tiptoes if he wanted to continue kissing his boyfriend.

He wanted to, so he did.

Ronan grinned against Adam's lips.

Without really backing away from the kiss, Adam mumbled, "Your boots have fucking heels, you know that, right? It's cheating."

That made Ronan bend down a little bit.

☾

Soaked to the bones they returned to the clearing between the tall trees an hour later. Adam wiped raindrops off the surface of his new watch. It informed him that they'd been in Cabeswater for just about two hours now.

"It's still Cabeswater, right?" Adam asked then because he had found himself curious.

"What?" Ronan raised his eyebrows.

"The name," Adam said, "I mean… it's obviously different now. It's new. But it's still Cabeswater, right?"

"Yes." It didn't seem like Ronan had to think about the initiate answer, but then he paused as if to contemplate how to go from there.

Adam brushed his thumb over the knuckles of Ronan's hand.

"It's… — Cabeswater is not…" Ronan bit his lip for a moment. Adam understood. Neither of them were particularly good with words, except when it came to banter and fighting with each other — feelings, however, and that's what a big part of Cabeswater was, were difficult.

"Cabeswater is not the forest, or the mountains, or the rain, or it all together," Ronan said finally, "Yes, it is this place, but it would also be this place if it weren't a place."

It immediately made sense to Adam.

"It's like I explained it with the old place," Ronan continued, "I dreamt that, but I didn't. Cabeswater had aways been there, I just dreamt something for it to manifest in."

There was the buzzing again. This time, as they were heading in the opposite direction back toward the car, it was on Adam's other side, his deaf side, so it took the sound a bit longer to be registered.

"I can't believe you put bees in this place."

"I think they're RoboBees," Ronan said, "You know, like Henry's. I don't know, though, it's not like I have control over everything."

Ronan didn't give the tone of his voice the power to sound scary, but Adam could still tell that it was. Ronan could do this magical thing — he was this magical thing — could bring out things and animals and humans out of his dreams, but sometimes, the expanse of his mind was too much to handle, even for him. So no one, not even Ronan, the creator of all this, could say for sure if the mountains lived, or if the bright blue pond was toxic, or if there were bees or small robotic drones shaped like bees housing in the trees.

They were about to leave the clearing behind, a few more short steps through the trees to get to the BMW, when they realized something was missing.

Someone was missing.

"Opal?" Ronan called out before it even fully registered in Adam's brain that it was the small girl with the goat legs that was not with them anymore.

She wasn't really missing, though. She just stood next to a particularly thick oak, fingers spread against the bark covering the trunk. "Kerah," she said, looking at Ronan with absurdly big, round eyes. She hadn't called him by his dream name in a while, not after Ronan told her that, outside of the dreams, he had a real name. Adam didn't know if real name had been the correct choice of words, as it implicated that Ronan's dreams weren't real, which they definitely were, but it was fair enough.

Ronan let go of Adam's hand, he was so rarely the first one to let go that it left Adam feeling a bit like he was still standing next to the lake in the rain, and walked back toward Opal, crouching down in front of her.

It was gestures and body language like this that made Adam put everything he knew about Ronan Lynch in consideration. For at least half their friendship, Adam had thought of Ronan as this cruel, sort of desperate creature. But he had learned — was still learning. He had always known Ronan wasn't a bad person. He had always suspected there was somewhat of a softer side to him. He had always known it, he just hadn't thought he would be the one Ronan chose to expose that vulnerability to.

Sometimes, usually when he had both arms wrapped around Ronan's body and they were listening to the crickets and cicadas outside their window at the Barns with their eyes closed, Adam thought about the first time Ronan had kissed him. The way they had been sat on his childhood bed in his childhood home; the way Ronan had taken a deep breath and released it before finally doing it; the way it had made Adam feel.

It had made him feel like he didn't understand a thing about himself, but finally did understand quite a bit about Ronan. It had made him feel nauseated and fuzzy and hot and cold at the same time.

He had known then, and he knew now, that Ronan Lynch was probably the most difficult person to be with. He had known then, and he knew now, that Ronan Lynch was not a thing to be experimented with.

Adam had never experimented. This had never been a game to him. That had probably made the whole concept of grasping and understanding your own sexuality a thousand times more difficult, but it always, for him, came down to the question of what felt right.

And Ronan did feel right, every time he asked himself the question, over and over again.

And Ronan continued to feel right to Adam when he put both his hands on Opal's shoulders, his eyes level with hers. He asked her what was wrong. They spoke Latin.

Adam stepped closer.

Opal said something, but Adam couldn't quite catch it. He could tell, however, that it made Ronan frown, even without seeing his face. His shoulders tensed in the way they always did when something wasn't going as expected. "Are you sure?" he heard him say, in English this time.

Opal let go off the tree and instead lay her hand on Ronan's head. She simultaneously looked like a toddler and a teenager, which was bullshit, Adam knew, because Opal didn't age, in neither direction of time — if time had been a line, which it was not. She was a dream thing.

Adam saw her mouth the word Kerah again, without any sound to it.

Ronan swallowed, then he turned his head and gave Adam a nod that encouraged him to come closer.

Adam crouched down before Opal, too, his right knee touching Ronan's left one.

"She says she wants to stay here," Ronan said and Adam could hear how close his voice was to breaking.

"What?"

"I want to go home," Opal said.

"The Barns are home," Ronan argued immediately.

But Adam knew this wasn't true. Not entirely, anyway. Yes, the Barns were home, in the animal world, but Cabeswater was home in the dream world. Both worlds were real, both existed.

Opal shook her head.

She had once explained it to Adam and Ronan when they were sitting outside the Barns on the porch under a storm of dreamt fireflies. She said she could sense if someone, something, had dream stuff in them, or if they were pure animal. She'd told them that she, herself, was entirely dream stuff, just like the fireflies. She'd explained that Adam was entirely animal. She'd told Ronan that he was both.

So Ronan belonged in both worlds, he belonged at the Barns as well as at Cabeswater. But Opal was a dream thing, she belonged at the dream place.

"I can't leave you here," Ronan said. He didn't say it in a desperate, sad way. The emotions, desperation, sadness, unwillingness, were definitely there, but he conveyed them in the most Ronan way possible. Which was snapping at people in a harsh voice.

Opal didn't flinch. She knew Ronan, had known him forever.

Adam laid a hand upon the back of Ronan's neck, grazing the beginnings of the tattoo that he knew splurged all over his broad back underneath his t-shirt.

"I want to go home," Opal said again, and then she repeated it in Latin, and then in another broken string of sounds that Adam recognized as the dream language.

Adam knew Ronan couldn't speak this language when he was awake, but it didn't matter, his mind was the same, awake or dreaming, so the sounds did something to him. His eyes widened and he seemed to understand. Even though the words I want to go home to Adam just sounded like I want to go home, they seemed to carry a different weight in the dream language.

Ronan just looked at her for a minute. Then his hands let go of her shoulders. "Don't go into the lake," he said, "I know the water looks nice, but it might burn the skin off your bones."

A smile spread across Opal's doll-face.

They hugged and Adam heard Ronan release a shaky breath before letting go. Opal pressed a kiss to Adam's cheek and he booped her nose and she laughed. She reached out and squeezed Ronan's hand and then she ran off.

☾

Adam still wasn't living at the Barns, despite spending every day of the summer there. He slept there eighty percent of the time, too, curled up against Ronan, their arms and legs entangled with each other, but he still had his apartment above St. Agnes church.

That's where Ronan dropped him off now.

Well, Ronan parked the BMW and went in with him, because that's just what Ronan did.

It had been nice to have this place to study, Adam found, when he was still going to school every day and couldn't focus on anything but lips and the lack of clothes whenever he was with Ronan. But now, after graduation, with college on the horizon, his small one-room apartment was pretty much blank.

There was his bed, yes, to which Ronan was now pulling him while kissing him urgently. There were his favorite books piled in a corner because he couldn't afford a proper shelf. There were two strips of four pictures each from the ancient photobox they installed at Nino's a few months back; one of them showed Blue, Gansey, Henry, Ronan and Adam squeezing into the tiny frame, either grinning or making faces; the other was just Adam and Ronan, on a different day, different poses.

Adam found himself on top of Ronan — where did his shirt go? — straddling him with one knee on either side of his hips. He ran his fingers over long stretches of firm, warm skin, over Ronan's chest, tracing his collarbones, and then around his neck, touching the beginnings of the complicated tattoo there. Adam could spend entire afternoons just looking at the ink on his boyfriend's back. It seemed to never be still, in the same way Adam never was still.

Except now. Looking at Ronan, he felt pretty damn at peace with himself.

Ronan's hands had sneaked under Adam's hoodie and were now pressing against his bare skin. All Adam had to do was lift his arms. But he didn't. Not all the way, anyway; just so far that he could trace his thumb along Ronan's bottom lip. Slowly.

Ronan's breathing hitched.

Adam always felt a little weird, doing this stuff here. They were just above a church, after all. That didn't mean a lot to him, he had stop believing in something Almighty Good somewhere between the first time his father slapped him across the cheek and the time he punched him so hard he went deaf in his left ear.

Ronan did go to church every week, though. Adam didn't know if he actually believed or if he just went to see his brothers, Matthew and Declan, the only two family members he had left, but he never questioned it.

Ronan made a noise that could easily be classified as needy against Adam's fingers. His hands pushed Adam's hoodie up further.

Instead of lifting his arms, though, Adam wrapped them around Ronan's torso, burying his face in the crook of Ronan's neck, breathing in deeply. Ronan smelled like everything good — like a long autumn day spent outside; like wet grass and fresh rain; like nature; like home.

Ronan released a breathy laugh into the silence between them, "Okay, Parrish, either you're aiming for extremely vanilla here or you're turning me down."

"Shhh," Adam made against his skin and watched, over Ronan's shoulder, as goosebumps crept up his back.

"Seriously?" Adam knew Ronan meant for it to sound annoyed, but he failed. He could hear the fond smile on his boyfriend's face. That smile Ronan hid away from everyone, including Adam. Adam just knew it existed because he had picture proof of it hanging on the wall right next to them. It was an expression of pure fondness, always aimed at Adam but never for him to actually see. "Did I wore you out with that hike?"

Adam rolled his eyes. "No. But you came up with all of this today, maybe you should sleep."

Ronan scoffed as Adam leaned back. Adam silenced him by pressing a feather-light, innocent kiss to his lips. He could tell Ronan was tired. He always was because he rarely slept well.

"You dreamed up a small world today," Adam whispered against his mouth.

Ronan chased his mouth with another kiss. Adam granted it, fingers smoothing down his shoulders.

They shifted on the mattress until they were lying down, now next to each other instead of on top one another. Adam pushed Ronan, a grin on his face, until the other boy rolled over and allowed Adam to wrap his arms around him.

Adam was built shorter and narrower �� despite enjoying three generous meals and snacks a day when at the Barns all summer — than Ronan, but not by much. He pressed his knees to the back of Ronan's thighs.

"I dreamed up something for the shitbox, too," Ronan said, referring to Adam's shitty, tricolored car, "Dunno if it'll be any good, though. It looks suspiciously like an ordinary torch."

Adam kissed the hollow spot beneath Ronan's ear.

Ronan closed his eyes. He was completely silent for at least two minutes, and Adam almost thought he'd fallen asleep, when suddenly, Ronan pushed his hand up against Adam's and laced their fingers together, "Saturday, right?"

His voice. It was, like that one smile, something Ronan hid away. It was reserved for Adam, and Adam only (not even Opal had heard him use that voice), and he only ever used it when they were alone and there were no barriers to uphold. It was soft, but bleeding honesty.

"Yeah." Adam was leaving for Harvard in four days. The moments of disbelief, when he felt like his stomach was digesting itself by help of pure adrenalin, had long passed and now everything that was left for Adam was the perspective of Leaving. Soon.

And then coming back.

Because he would always come back to Ronan.

"I'll—" Ronan stopped. His mouth remained open for another split second, but then he pressed his lips together into a fine line. I'll miss you, was what he wasn't saying. Adam knew.

"Do you think I can still scry into Cabeswater?" Adam asked, the tone of his voice mirrored Ronan's. Honest. "I'm wondering, since I'm not bound to this new place, right? I didn't make a bargain with this Cabeswater. My hands and eyes belong to me, and me only." He paused. "I'm just Adam now."

Ronan barely held back a small snort, "Just Adam. Come on. You're many other things."

"Like what?"

"Well," Ronan's eyes moved underneath their lids in an undoubtedly mischievous way, "First of all, you're a pain in the ass."

Adam's mouth made a pff sound. "You like that," he argued, rolling his hips forward once, and watched Ronan bite down on his bottom lip.

"Fuck you." Ronan scooted back a little, chasing Adam's movement against him.

Adam grinned.

"You're the Magician," Ronan said then, softer and with so much certainty it almost made Adam shiver, "You'll always be the Magician."

He almost gave in then. He almost leaned over Ronan and kissed him. But Ronan's breathing had calmed down a lot over the past minute and Adam was sure he was on the way to falling into a dreamless sleep.

So instead he said, "Damn, is that right? Is being The Magician something of academical importance? Because I didn't put that on my resumé for Harvard."

The corners of Ronan's mouth twitched, "Well, then you're fucked, Parrish. If it's not on your resumé, then you're really just Adam."

☾

Four days went by too fast.

Granted, without Opal pestering them, Ronan and Adam spent most of the time in bed, tangled either in sheets or each other, but it still felt like time was slipping through their fingers.

Adam fixed his car just in time for him leaving. He'd packed up all his things and moved them from St. Agnes to the Barns. He wasn't going to pay any more rent for a place he wouldn't return to.

Ronan hadn't asked him to move in. And Adam hadn't asked for it. Not that moving in together was really what they were doing, Adam was merely changing the place he'd stay at when he wasn't in Cambridge.

Now, Adam was wearing his gray Harvard sweater and Ronan was making fun of him for it instead of saying goodbye. They were standing by Adam's car. It was an eight hour drive and Adam had planned to get to Harvard in the early morning, so now they were standing in the almost complete darkness of the night.

Ronan's dream fireflies were dancing around their heads.

Their laughter was dying down now. It had been like this for the past couple of days. They'd still been bickering with each other — of course, they were Ronan Lynch and Adam Parrish, after all. The universe would probably be thrown off balance if they ever went a day without pissing each other off — but it had almost always been followed by a short stretch of silence in which both boys remembered all of this would be over way too soon.

Adam was ready for it. He had been ready since he'd first realized — at the tender age of maybe ten — that he was not trapped in Henrietta, Virginia for the rest of his life; he did not have to take blows from his father for the rest of forever, he just had to survive long enough.

And that he did.

Without another word, Adam took the first step and wrapped his arms around Ronan's shoulders tightly. Ronan's hands came together behind Adam's back and Adam heard him inhaling a shaky breath. I'll miss you, was what they both didn't say but knew anyway.

"You come up for your birthday," Adam said against Ronan's neck. It was a long time to go until November 14th but they both needed this silver lining.

Ronan didn't say anything. He didn't nod, either. Nothing. Adam knew Ronan's voice would break if he made use out of it now, so he didn't push him.

What did push, though, was something. Something sharp and edgy digging into Adam's thigh.

"Ro—"

Ronan let go off Adam and took a small step back. His blue eyes wandered over Adam's face once again, slowly, as if he made it his mission to remember Adam in detail so he could dream up an exact replica later.

Adam really hoped he wasn't planning on doing that.

Then Ronan reached into the pocket of his jeans. What he pulled out Adam immediately recognized as a mixtape. He did not the wave of memories, though. He had another mixtape from Ronan in the car behind him, titled A Shitbox Sing Along and, on the other side, Parrish's Hondayota Alone Time.

He still listened to that sometimes.

Ronan's mouth twitched a couple of times as if he was about to say something, but he didn't. He merely shoved the mixtape at Adam's chest. It had his messy handwriting all over it.

Adam took it, but he wasn't looking down at it; not yet. "If there's only electronic shit on here I'm going to throw it out the window and make sure you see it."

Ronan almost broke their eye-contact to roll his eyes, "You know damn well I don't only listen to EDM, Parrish."

"That weird dubstep remix of Chocolate by the 1975 counts as such, too."

"That was one time and only because it came on shuffle."

"But for it to come on shuffle it had to be in your playlist in the first place, right?"

Now, Ronan rolled his eyes. And what a show he made of it. "God, I'm so glad you get to be a fucking smartass somewhere else now."

Adam laughed, his hand clasping around the mixtape. "Fuck you, Lynch."

"Fuck you, Parrish."

"Wow, maybe work on your comebacks until November?" Adam suggested, "They're seriously lacking punch these days."

Ronan kissed him then. I'll miss you, I'll miss you, I'll miss you.

Adam pulled him closer, stumbling back a little until his back hit the driver's side of his car. He wasn't sure if he was really leaving tonight.

Just as that thought came to his mind, Ronan brought space between them again.

Adam finally looked down at the mixtape and the words written on it.

Cum te ubicumque.

His lips slightly parted as he formed the words without putting a sound to them. Once, twice. Something in him stirred; something big and wonderful and scary. It made him tongue-tied for a moment, and all he could do was flick his eyes between the tape and Ronan, back and forth, back and forth.

"With you wherever," Adam finally said.

"Wherever," Ronan echoed, and it was that voice again, bringing so much new weight to this simple word. He looked suspiciously like he was about to blush, if that was something Ronan Lynch would do. It made him look younger, Adam found, more like how he looked when he first kissed Adam — insecure but sure. "I love you."

It wasn't the first time Adam heard the words from Ronan. It wasn't the second time, either, and it wasn't like their meaning didn't swing with every other sentence Ronan directed at Adam on a daily basis. Adam knew Ronan loved him. He knew he loved Ronan. And yet, actually hearing the words was something that took him off guard every single time.

He placed the mixtape on the hood of his car and stepped back into Ronan's space. It was probably the fiftieth long, drawn-out-to-the-max hug of the day, but it didn't matter. Adam whispered the words back before kissing Ronan again, and again, and again.

He was savoring every single bit of this.

With you wherever.

Adam felt wetness on his cheek, but he wasn't sure if it was him or Ronan or them both who shed a tear or two.

With you wherever.

Ronan pushed him back then, a bit harsher than before, and he took a step back towards the Barns himself. His voice was still soft but hoarse when he spoke again, "Now get out of my face, Parrish."

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mychemicalrachel · 7 years ago

Text

I started thinking about Adam at college and I accidentally wrote a thing.

Read on ao3.

Adam had anticipated college to be stressful. The good kind of stress, if such a thing existed. He’d expected the overload of homework and reading, welcomed it readily. But with a full ride scholarship to one of the best schools in the country, for once in his life, Adam didn’t have to worry about where money for his next meal would come from. And that was the kind of stress he would gladly live without.

For the first few months, Adam still saved every penny like it might be his last. He kept a cereal box under his bed stuffed with extra cash, eventually giving in to opening a checking account at Gansey’s insistence. After getting a job at the local mechanic’s shop, Adam slowly came to realize that he didn’t have to scavenge for money anymore. For the first time, Adam had money he could spend on whatever he wanted.

It started to show in small ways at first; Adam splurged the extra two-dollars on the good toilet paper instead of the sand-paper off brand. He ordered coffee instead of water when he spent late hours studying at the campus coffee shop. He was even able to fill up the BMWs gas tank instead of buying gas in ten-dollar increments when it started getting low.

So yes, Adam had anticipated college to be stressful, and it was, but withdrawal from Henrietta was even more so. The first few weeks were the worst. Nightmares were still fresh in his mind, memories of Gansey’s death and Ronan’s almost unmaking. More often than not, he still dreamt of his own hands on Ronan’s throat, squeezing until he could feel the breath stop. Some nights, he simply dreamed of Cabeswater, what it was now that it was nothing.

He called Ronan on those particularly bad nights. On the occasions that Ronan didn’t answer, Opal did. She would talk to him, sometimes in English or Latin or that other language he didn’t understand. Somehow, she knew it didn’t matter what she said. Just to know that she was okay, that her and Ronan were safe, it was enough.

The days were even worse. Something small could set Adam off into a spiral; a girl who, in passing, looked like Blue; a boy whose laugh sounded like Gansey’s; a breeze would close a door and Noah’s name would slip off his tongue before he remembered that Noah was gone. Adam did his best to cope with their absence alone-- he couldn’t very well call his friends every time he missed them. They had lives, and Adam needed to let them be without worrying about him all the time.

The first pack of cigarettes Adam bought was for a friend who didn’t have the cash on him. His friend gratefully handed him a single cigarette from the pack, saying thanks. He left Adam alone, staring at the thin white stick curiously; he’d never smoked before. It had never occurred to him, never been an option or a lure, but staring at it now, it seemed to call to Adam. A pull that he hadn’t felt since the death of Cabeswater. Adam went back into the convenience store and bought a lighter.

He choked on the first drag. It burned his throat more than anything, left his lungs feeling full and deflated at the same time. He took another drag, slower, and exhaled. Staring into the smoke, like searching for shapes in the clouds, Adam felt himself relax.

When he crushed the butt of the cigarette against the pavement, he told himself it was a one time thing. One cigarette didn’t make you an addict.

Adam went back the next day and bought himself another pack.

By the time Adam’s first year of college had officially ended, he realized he might actually miss this place when he goes back to Virginia for the summer. For the past nine months, this dorm room had been his home. Leaving it feels surreal. But the draw of Ronan and Blue and Gansey is even stronger. He packs up the BMW and leaves college behind.

It’s an almost seven hour drive to Virginia, and Adam spends the whole time anxiously tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. Blue texts him a few times, reminding him to pull over and rest if he gets too tired, but the pull of home fills him with adrenaline. He can’t wait to be back. Not to the town, or even to the Barns, but to see his friends again.

Everyone is waiting at the Barns when Adam parks the BMW and climbs out. He can see the Pig and his Hondayota parked to one side of the drive. The sun is kissing the horizon, the beginning of dusk leaving everything glowing orange and pink. Magical, as if the Barns could ever be anything but.

He’s not even up the porch steps when the front door crashes open and Blue is charging him. She flings herself at him, and Adam barely manages to grab her and steady them before they both fall down the stairs. He staggers back, laughing, as the familiarity swarms him. Gansey is right behind her, not even waiting for them to part before inserting himself into the hug. Over Gansey’s shoulder, he spots Ronan standing back, watching them. There’s a hint of a smirk tugging the corners of his lips.

Adam disentangles himself as best as he can. He stands at the bottom of the stairs, Ronan at the top, with four steps between them. Adam leans against the railing. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Ronan mimics.

“Your hair is longer,” Adam notes. “It looks good.”

Ronan lifts a hand to brush through his hair, like he’s just noticed. Then he shrugs casually. “I figured you might want something to pull.”

Adam grins at him. “That’s presumptuous, Lynch.”

Ronan jumps down to the ground, not bothered to use to the steps. He casts a look toward Blue and Gansey. Blue, seeming to take the unsubtle hint, grabs Gansey’s arm. “We’ll give you two some privacy.” She tugs him back toward the house, leaving Adam and Ronan alone. Without an audience, Ronan seems to soften a bit. He nudges his shoe against Adam’s. “I was serious, what I said about my hair.”

Adam reaches up to pull a few fingers through the hair. He gives it a experimental tug and Ronan’s eyes narrow, either an invitation or a challenge. Adam assumes it’s a mixture of both and he finally leans in to capture Ronan’s lips. The heat that immediately surrounds him, the warmth that seems to come from the inside out, it’s all familiar. It’s addictive and safe and tantalizing, all at once.

And then Ronan pulls back, frowning. “You taste weird.”

“I didn’t brush my teeth,” Adam admits. “And I had onion rings for lunch.”

“No,” Ronan shakes his head. “That’s not it.” He watches Adam for a moment, rubs his thumb along his lower lip in a gesture that seems distinctly Gansey of him. Ronan frowns a little more. “Have you been smoking?”

“Oh,” Adam realizes. “Yeah. A little.”

“How do you smoke a little?” Ronan demands. “Either you’ve been smoking or you haven’t.”

“Okay,” Adam corrects himself. “Yes, I’ve been smoking. What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you so mad all of a sudden?”

“It’s fucking gross,” Ronan snaps. “Since when do you smoke?”

“Since school is stressful, I guess.” Adam shrugs. “What’s the big deal?”

“They’re bad for you--”

“Oh, you’re one to talk about bad habits,” Adam laughs. “You’re the one who used to drink himself into oblivion to avoid dealing with feelings.”

Ronan chooses not to acknowledge that. “What if Gansey and Blue found out?”

“So what?” Adam asks. “I’m a big boy. Gansey is not my father. I can do whatever I want.”

“And you want to kill yourself?” Ronan says. “There are easier ways, man.”

Adam is taken aback. “What the fuck, Ronan?”

Ronan’s nostrils flare. He looks down, shuffling his feet. At his sides, his hands tighten into fists. Ronan turns to walk away, but Adam catches his wrist.

“No, Ronan. Do not just shut me out. What the hell is your problem?”

“I’m self-destructive,” Ronan snaps. “I know that. Sure, you’re right; I drink myself stupid sometimes. But I’ve never fucking smoked because those things kill, Parrish. They fucking kill you. Slowly. And I cannot lose you.”

Ronan drops his gaze, sighs, and Adam can see the way his shoulders deflate. The fight leaves him. For some reason, this Ronan seems harder to deal with than an angry Ronan. Adam says, “You can’t tell me what to do.”

Ronan barks out a bitter laugh. “Thank God for that, huh? You’d never listen to me anyway.”

“I didn’t know you would hate it so much.” Adam nudges Ronan’s arm. “I figured it would make me look hot.”

Ronan rolls his eyes.

Adam clears his throat. “If you hate it so much, I can try to stop.”

“I’m not your fucking father,” Ronan says. “I’m not going to make you do anything. I’m not giving you some fucking ultimatum, like if you don’t stop I’ll break up with you.”

“I know,” Adam says. “But you don’t like it. Relationships are about compromise, right? And you grew your hair out just for me.” Adam laces his fingers through the hair and tugs at it again. It makes Ronan smile. “So I’ll try to stop. I’m not making an promises, though.”

“If it’s about stress, I can dream you something,” Ronan says. “There are millions of ways to relieve stress.” He pulls Adam into his arms, mouthing at Adam’s neck, his throat, his jaw. “I can dream you up a sex doll that looks just like me. Sex is shown to be a great stress reliever.”

Adam laughs, shoving at Ronan’s shoulders. “I would love to explain that to my roommate.”

Ronan bites down on his lip and watches Adam carefully, suddenly serious. “Promise me you’ll call if you get too stressed out. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night, I will drive your shitty Hondayota all the way to New Jersey if you need me.”

And Adam knew that Ronan would be there for him, was always there for him, but hearing Ronan offer like that… it made something in Adam’s chest swell. “Yeah, I promise.”

“Good.” Ronan laces his fingers with Adam’s. “Now, we should go see the others. Opal missed you…”

Ronan leads him inside, launching into a story about Opal and Chainsaw. Adam smiles as he listens, feeling more settled than he ever had before. For the first time in months, his fingers don’t itch for a cigarette. He doesn’t feel the tension and the stress like a physical weight on his back. He feels calm, relaxed. He feels like he’s home.

#Pynch #the raven cycle #my fics #adam parrish #this is seriously all about adam #but it has Ronan/Adam at the end #and Gansey and Blue make an appearance #Set post canon #trk spoilers #ronan talks about his feelings instead of punching things

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