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[ as adam gets into the car, ronan has no doubt anymore that the restless energy is under his skin. it's amplified in adam's presence. maybe it has something to do with their shared connection to cabeswater, but it probably has more to do with just adam and the smell of pencil lead and fresh dirt and motor oil and shampoo he brings with him, and beneath that the smell of mist and moss. those are the things that make ronan's pulse pick up, a steady buzz in the background of his thoughts. a constant awareness of their closeness.
there's no objection to the seatbelt, obviously, even though ronan's not about to go racing through the streets with adam in the passenger seat. (unlike noah, adam is still very much alive and ronan very much wants to keep him that way.) no sooner has he heard the click than he's jerking the gear shift and peeling away from the curb. ]
Seriously? You sound like Gansey. [ he meant it as a jibe, but it falls short. ] There's only room enough for one of him in this world.
there's no objection to the seatbelt, obviously, even though ronan's not about to go racing through the streets with adam in the passenger seat. (unlike noah, adam is still very much alive and ronan very much wants to keep him that way.) no sooner has he heard the click than he's jerking the gear shift and peeling away from the curb. ]
Seriously? You sound like Gansey. [ he meant it as a jibe, but it falls short. ] There's only room enough for one of him in this world.
[ on the other side of things, adam pretends not to notice anything. it's easier this way, or so he thinks. the longer he remains oblivious to everything, the longer he puts off having to face his own honesty on the matter. mostly because it just leaves him running in circles. why does ronan look at him that way when he's not anything special? why would ronan even care about someone like him? maybe he doesn't. maybe it's all not real. maybe adam's just imagining it because he wants it to be real.
wouldn't that be something.
he leans back against the seat and lets out a sigh. logically he knows how ronan meant it, but logic doesn't always show up when it needs to. images flash through adam's mind that he doesn't want to see right now; it makes his stomach twist uncomfortably and he folds in on himself slightly. his knee bumps against the door and he audibly sighs as he turns his attention to look out the window at the world just passing him by. ]
Yeah.
[ it's a soft agreement. ronan's right, there is only room for one of him and before long there will be none. and it'll be all adam's fault. then what?
why can't he just make a joke to change the subject or lighten the mood instead of just sit here like a lump? absently, he rubs a hand over his knee. ]
Where are we going?
wouldn't that be something.
he leans back against the seat and lets out a sigh. logically he knows how ronan meant it, but logic doesn't always show up when it needs to. images flash through adam's mind that he doesn't want to see right now; it makes his stomach twist uncomfortably and he folds in on himself slightly. his knee bumps against the door and he audibly sighs as he turns his attention to look out the window at the world just passing him by. ]
Yeah.
[ it's a soft agreement. ronan's right, there is only room for one of him and before long there will be none. and it'll be all adam's fault. then what?
why can't he just make a joke to change the subject or lighten the mood instead of just sit here like a lump? absently, he rubs a hand over his knee. ]
Where are we going?
[ the idea that they could make something happen just by imagining it would've seemed absurd before — before gansey hovered his hand over a pool of silver fish and willed them to be red. maybe it wouldn't have seemed so absurd to ronan, who grew up with the extraordinary, the inexplicable; who's been able to take things from his dreams since he was three. but now it's something they all share, not just ronan's secret anymore.
however, he's pretty sure that whatever's going on between him and adam has less to do with ancient celtic magic and more to do with — hormones. or something. the normal, earthly laws of human attraction, even though sometimes when he looks at adam he seems anything but normal and earthly. he may have been born in the backwater with henrietta dirt under his nails, but he's so much more than that now. he always has been more than that, but it took the deal with cabeswater for them (including adam himself, with the exception of gansey, who probably always knew adam's worth) to see it.
so, that's part of the reason ronan looks at him that way.
and it's because he's always paying attention to adam now that he notices the shift and the sighing, audible since ronan turned the music down a little. ronan almost wants to ask what's eating him, but then adam asks that question and ronan shrugs. ]
I was thinking the Barns. [ he flicks his gaze in adam's direction, lingering a little too long on the hand rubbing his knee. his own hand twists the knob of the gearshift. ] Unless you had someplace in mind.
[ adam could ask him to just keep driving until sunset and through the night to morning, and he would, as long as he had adam with him. ]
however, he's pretty sure that whatever's going on between him and adam has less to do with ancient celtic magic and more to do with — hormones. or something. the normal, earthly laws of human attraction, even though sometimes when he looks at adam he seems anything but normal and earthly. he may have been born in the backwater with henrietta dirt under his nails, but he's so much more than that now. he always has been more than that, but it took the deal with cabeswater for them (including adam himself, with the exception of gansey, who probably always knew adam's worth) to see it.
so, that's part of the reason ronan looks at him that way.
and it's because he's always paying attention to adam now that he notices the shift and the sighing, audible since ronan turned the music down a little. ronan almost wants to ask what's eating him, but then adam asks that question and ronan shrugs. ]
I was thinking the Barns. [ he flicks his gaze in adam's direction, lingering a little too long on the hand rubbing his knee. his own hand twists the knob of the gearshift. ] Unless you had someplace in mind.
[ adam could ask him to just keep driving until sunset and through the night to morning, and he would, as long as he had adam with him. ]
[ it'd be funny, sort of, if adam knew it took a supernatural event to showcase his worth. his entire life he's worked hard at showing he's worthy of... something. anything. so far it hasn't worked out all that well for him; all it's earned is fights, bruises, the loss of hearing in one ear, and a crippling sense of unworthiness.
sometimes he thinks it's getting better. that maybe this connection to cabeswater is what he needed to feel better, more secure in his standing in the world. but then other times he sees the extraordinary moving around him, like he's watching from behind a hazy glass, and that he'll never catch up.
adam's yet to let himself think that it's okay if he doesn't catch up, but goes at his own speed.
he shifts slightly in the seat, head tipping to press against the window enough so he can see glimpses of the sky between the swiftly passing streetlamps. there's a shake of his head, but he realizes a moment after he does it that ronan likely isn't looking (or maybe he was, is), and can't hear a non-verbal response. ]
No. [ where else could they go? the later it gets, the less is open in this small town. the gas station, maybe. the diner. both clear hot spot destinations... but adam's tired of smelling cars and doesn't want to deal with the bright lights and jangling country muzak piped through the speakers. so, the barns it is. ] That's fine.
[ maybe they should keep driving. just keep going and never look back. he doesn't say that, though he does think it. and maybe that speaks louder than anything he's ever said. ]
sometimes he thinks it's getting better. that maybe this connection to cabeswater is what he needed to feel better, more secure in his standing in the world. but then other times he sees the extraordinary moving around him, like he's watching from behind a hazy glass, and that he'll never catch up.
adam's yet to let himself think that it's okay if he doesn't catch up, but goes at his own speed.
he shifts slightly in the seat, head tipping to press against the window enough so he can see glimpses of the sky between the swiftly passing streetlamps. there's a shake of his head, but he realizes a moment after he does it that ronan likely isn't looking (or maybe he was, is), and can't hear a non-verbal response. ]
No. [ where else could they go? the later it gets, the less is open in this small town. the gas station, maybe. the diner. both clear hot spot destinations... but adam's tired of smelling cars and doesn't want to deal with the bright lights and jangling country muzak piped through the speakers. so, the barns it is. ] That's fine.
[ maybe they should keep driving. just keep going and never look back. he doesn't say that, though he does think it. and maybe that speaks louder than anything he's ever said. ]
Ronan wakes up gasping, but it’s too late for surprise: he knows what he dreamed. Conviction nailguns his stomach to his throat. He falls out of bed.
Kavinsky is on the floor.
He’s covered in blue. White skin shows rubbery, cyanotic where the slime thins. Cabeswater had vomited the other boy out on him, not the gift -and-giving of Pig, or the violent thefts before. Cabeswater hadn’t wanted Kavinsky.
Ronan scrapes the membrane off Kavinsky’s blind face, and feels the first breath whistle wetly through his fingers. “You couldn’tve made me better, stronger, faster,” Kavinsky croaks; he doesn’t sound surprised.
Kavinsky is on the floor.
He’s covered in blue. White skin shows rubbery, cyanotic where the slime thins. Cabeswater had vomited the other boy out on him, not the gift -and-giving of Pig, or the violent thefts before. Cabeswater hadn’t wanted Kavinsky.
Ronan scrapes the membrane off Kavinsky’s blind face, and feels the first breath whistle wetly through his fingers. “You couldn’tve made me better, stronger, faster,” Kavinsky croaks; he doesn’t sound surprised.
Ronan looks scared and frustrated and angry, which is newish, but familiar.
Kavinsky personally doesn’t feel much, which is normal for him. No feeling except for the physical, Ronan’s chest drumming his shoulder hotly, hard right arm pinching under his back. When Ronan puts him down, the bathtub squeaks on his ass. Monmouth Manufacturing sounds empty.
His memories are indistinct, unsequenced, vague, but he remembers Ronan screaming from below. “If it’s too much trouble, you could just kill me and bury me out back,” he offers, but Ronan doesn’t smile; gives him a look that’s as raw as a wound.
Kavinsky personally doesn’t feel much, which is normal for him. No feeling except for the physical, Ronan’s chest drumming his shoulder hotly, hard right arm pinching under his back. When Ronan puts him down, the bathtub squeaks on his ass. Monmouth Manufacturing sounds empty.
His memories are indistinct, unsequenced, vague, but he remembers Ronan screaming from below. “If it’s too much trouble, you could just kill me and bury me out back,” he offers, but Ronan doesn’t smile; gives him a look that’s as raw as a wound.
Edited (grammatical error, boring, no one else noticed (maybe)) 2015-09-13 15:31 (UTC)
It’s not until Kavinsky is eating his sandwich that Ronan recognizes the smell: gasoline. The shower and the sweet-sour mayonnaise smell have cut it now, but Ronan still looks around. No open flames in Monmouth.
Not yet, anyway.
But Kavinsky is different in as many ways as he’s the same. It could be the trauma of rebirth or just… fucking sobriety. He’s fighting Chainsaw over a rind edge of sliced ham. She doesn’t bite him, and his fingers flex short of her eyes.
Abruptly, they both look at him. Dream creatures, one black and one chalk-white, greying in the dawn.
Not yet, anyway.
But Kavinsky is different in as many ways as he’s the same. It could be the trauma of rebirth or just… fucking sobriety. He’s fighting Chainsaw over a rind edge of sliced ham. She doesn’t bite him, and his fingers flex short of her eyes.
Abruptly, they both look at him. Dream creatures, one black and one chalk-white, greying in the dawn.
“Maybe,” Blue interrupts, irritation edging into her voice, “we should ask him.”
Gansey stumbles on the combination of female annoyance and All-American Heroism. Noah fades. Adam hasn’t spoken since Ronan yanked Kavinsky to sit against to him instead of wandering every three minutes. Kavinsky went still; Adam became a salt pillar.
“Right.” Gansey clears his throat. He’s—bad with death. “How’re you—psychologically.”
“No kidnapping, suicide, or dragon plans.” Kavinsky’s smile stretches like taffy.
Gansey nods. “Can you still steal dreams?”
“Ehh. Haven’t slept, but I doubt Lynch could picture me without.”
Ronan’s glares at him, furious because it’s true.
Gansey stumbles on the combination of female annoyance and All-American Heroism. Noah fades. Adam hasn’t spoken since Ronan yanked Kavinsky to sit against to him instead of wandering every three minutes. Kavinsky went still; Adam became a salt pillar.
“Right.” Gansey clears his throat. He’s—bad with death. “How’re you—psychologically.”
“No kidnapping, suicide, or dragon plans.” Kavinsky’s smile stretches like taffy.
Gansey nods. “Can you still steal dreams?”
“Ehh. Haven’t slept, but I doubt Lynch could picture me without.”
Ronan’s glares at him, furious because it’s true.
Brb athensBorrowing the BMW is easy—everyone’s exhausted. It’s a ninety minutes to Ohio, going ten over.
Ronan shows up in an hour.
He cleaves through the nightclub like a tiger, shirt skewed, one cut-ice hipbone exposed, the hauteur of his buzzed profile lambent by throbbing blacklights. Kavinsky has two seconds to wonder if Ronan could’ve found him on gut alone, before Ronan’s on him, snarling—
But he falters when Kavinsky pulls him in, matches groin to groin, mouth to throat. Sets the rhythm, hips rolling and shoving against the bass-line. Ronan doesn’t fucking dream anything meant for cages.
five
Eventually, they spill back outside the nightclub. Ronan’s throat and palms tingle from contact, but he keeps hold of Kavinsky in case of unscheduled disaster. He hates being socially responsible cop; he belongs in the fucking lineup. Downward comparisons with Gansey do not apply here.six
“Hey, fags!” Two frat guys stumble up; one throws beer at him.
Ronan beats the shit out of them. A bloody nose is enough to scare one guy off. The other one lasts a couple uppercuts, splits Ronan’s lip. Afterward, Kavinsky gives him a cigarette. Like the rest of this strange night, it hurts well.
Apparently the whole fucking band came to Athens, searching. The motel room is theirs for thirty minutes max.
Ronan lies beside him, texting.
Kavinsky wonders if Ronan knows how easy it would be. He'd barely have to touch him; one finger on his hip, and Kavinsky would open up his mouth and his legs for him; there's a lot you can do in half an hour. But he won't. Maybe that's what he liked about Ronan. Sordid Catholic rage bullshit aside, he's a good guy. Before, the thrill was to wreck that.
Now, this is enough. Kavinsky's heart drums, fast.
They're my only way of getting out of here. Since I have three jobs I have no time for any extracurriculars, which is what Ivy League schools really look for. If I can't be the president of the student council or whatever, I need a 4.5 GPA.
[ to get that and keep all his jobs, sleep is kind of out of the question. hence adderall. ]
[ to get that and keep all his jobs, sleep is kind of out of the question. hence adderall. ]
[ this boy is going to be the death of him. never mind that the reminder of adam going off to some fancy college after graduation creates a small, stabbing sensation between his ribs. ]
you're not getting into any ivy league schools if you're dead from taking kavinsky's mystery drugs, genius
you're not getting into any ivy league schools if you're dead from taking kavinsky's mystery drugs, genius
[ adam doesn't respond to ronan's text, instead tossing his phone on his bed and pacing through his room. it's small, so he can't get far before he has to turn back around, but he has to move somehow or he's going to explode. he feels like he's going to shake out of his skin and he wasn't really joking, the room is spinning a bit. he's not actually going to die, at least he's pretty sure he's not, but he's going to be really out of it until the caffeine and adderall wear off. ]
[ it actually takes the average person at least ten minutes to get from monmouth to st. agnes, but it takes ronan half that time. the screech of tires on asphalt and the slam of a car door announce his arrival, followed by hurried footsteps on the stairs leading to adam's apartment. he enters the room without preamble, saying as he opens the door, ]
I'm coming in, Parrish, so you better not be doing anything weird.
[ when his eyes fall on adam, alive, something inside him settles. like a vital piece had been knocked loose but is now sliding back into place. his chest expands, and he realizes he'd been holding his breath. ]
I'm coming in, Parrish, so you better not be doing anything weird.
[ when his eyes fall on adam, alive, something inside him settles. like a vital piece had been knocked loose but is now sliding back into place. his chest expands, and he realizes he'd been holding his breath. ]
[ when ronan walks through the door, adam looks up at him with an expressionless face, and doesn't pause his pacing. it's impossible not to see how concerned ronan was for him, the way he actually seems to catch his breath upon sight of adam, but adam's mind is moving too quickly for him to hold onto that thought for long. it's jumping between topics too fast for him to even really formulate a coherent thought, instead just forming vague impressions of a thought and then moving on. sometimes he gets caught in a loop, repeating one thought over and over until he can form it into a full sentence, and then he's bouncing off to something else again. it's maddening, the feeling that he isn't in control of his own brain, and it'd be concerning if adam could actually slow down long enough to be concerned.
belatedly, adam's expression changes, like he's actually seeing ronan now, and he blinks. ]
Hey. Sorry, you said something?
belatedly, adam's expression changes, like he's actually seeing ronan now, and he blinks. ]
Hey. Sorry, you said something?
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