[ it's all ronan can do not to go off on adam for being such an idiot. several months ago, he might have. maybe it's a sign of maturity, or maybe it's just a sign that he's losing his mind, but he recognizes that lashing out would be a bad idea before he does it, and the thought is enough to stop him. it might also be that adam's pronounced drawl is making it difficult for him to have too many coherent thoughts at the moment. who really fucking knows?
whatever the case, he takes a deep breath and lets his hands slip down adam's arm's to his elbows, lingering a moment too long before he lets him go and takes a step away. he runs his hands over his own head and strings together a number of profanities, among them the words "kill" and "kavinsky."
his arms drop to his sides as he faces adam again. ] Hey, smart guy. [ he snaps his fingers, in case adam zoned out again. ] You know there's no way you can go to school like this, right?
[ that gets adam's undivided attention, and he stares at ronan like a deer in the headlights. he honestly hadn't considered whether or not he could go to school like this -- he never skips a day anymore, not since he'd gotten away from his parents and had no more bruises to hide. he could be fucking dying, and he would still go to school. what's the point of busting his ass on homework if he doesn't actually go to the damn classes? the thought that he's shot himself in the foot now -- it hadn't occurred to adam, and now that it has, he's feeling vaguely panicked at the prospect of missing the day. ]
No, I -- I can go. It's just wearing off, it'll be out of my system by the time first period starts.
[ he hopes so, anyway. but after that he'll have to get through nearly seven hours of classes and five hours of work without any chemical help.
yeah. he really monumentally fucked himself over. ]
[ believe it or not, freaking adam out had not been ronan's intention. he'd just wanted to point out the glaring flaw in adam's logic, that taking drugs to help with his homework isn't going to mean shit if he's too fucked up to do the actual school part. ronan knows he (probably) can't stop adam from going to school. he'll probably (definitely) have to drive him, since there's no way in hell he's letting adam get behind the wheel of a car, which means he'll also have to drive him to work afterwards and wherever else he needs to go.
he should hate the idea, but he doesn't. ]
You better fucking hope it wears off, otherwise Gansey's going to figure out something's wrong.
[ and ronan has been on the receiving end of gansey's "don't abuse mind-altering substances" lecture enough times to know adam's not going to enjoy it. he doesn't give ronan the lecture anymore, though the concerned side-eyeing whenever ronan has a little too much to drink isn't any better. ]
[ how, exactly, adam isn't sure, but he's too relieved that ronan isn't pressing the stay-at-home issue to really think too hard about it. running a hand over his face, adam drops heavily onto his mattress, sighing. after a moment, he drops his hand from his face and looks blearily up at ronan. ]
Kavinsky gave me a whole bottle of pills. Could you get rid of them? It's in the washroom, on the sink.
[ adam had planned to keep the bottle for any further emergencies, but if this has taught him anything it's that it's better to let exhaustion take him than turn to pills. if he doesn't get rid of the drugs, though, he might try them again one day when he's really desperate, and that would just be a fucking terrible idea. ]
[ the main reason he didn't press the stay-at-home issue is because he knows it would lead to a fight, and fighting with adam in his current state would just be... an even bigger disaster than usual. he hears what adam doesn't say, that he doesn't know how he'd hide it from gansey, but he doesn't bother pressing that issue, either.
he has more important things to deal with, like getting rid of those mystery pills. ]
A whole bottle? Seriously? [ he gives adam a look that says: are you fucking insane? before turning on his heel and ducking into the bathroom. he finds the bottle, picks it up off the sink, and turns it around in his hand. the label seems legit at first glance. kavinsky was always good at making forgeries. as he uncaps the bottle, he calls, ] How many of these did you take, exactly?
[ he pockets a couple of the pills, just in case he needs them when he has Words with kavinsky later (he's already decided that he will), and then upends the remaining contents into the toilet.
there's a flushing sound. as the pills whirlpool around the toilet bowl, ronan chucks the bottle and heads back into the room. ]
[ adam has no response for ronan's first question, just blinking up at him with a mildly sheepish expression, and by the time he asks his second adam is slumped down on the bed, struggling to stay awake. the drugs and caffeine have well and truly worn off at this point, leaving him feeling both moderately depressed and extremely exhausted. he was tired when he started the night, and without the chemical help he's crashing fast. there's no way he can go to school like this, even he knows that, much as the prospect of missing a day makes him feel two seconds away from a panic attack. he did this to himself, though, and he'll just have to deal with the consequences after he's slept.
it takes a second too long, but adam finally responds to ronan's question, his speech slurring and slightly muffled from where he's pressed into the mattress. ]
He said to take two, so I only took one. Figured it was safer.
[ as he leaves the bathroom, the sight that greets ronan gives him pause: adam lying on the bed, finally losing his battle with exhaustion. it dulls all of ronan's harsh edges, smooths his bristles, wears him down until he's nothing but the complex tangle of emotions he feels for adam parrish. it's hard to be annoyed after that. he's still pissed as all hell at kavinsky, but he can't be mad at adam. truth be told, he was never mad at him to begin with. just scared that something might happen to him.
he exhales deeply and continues to the bed, perching on it close enough to the edge to make it clear he doesn't plan on staying. ]
Well, I guess you weren't a complete idiot. Thank God for small mercies.
[ gone is the tension in his voice, the pinched, almost pained tone. before he can think about it, he reaches over and brushes adam's hair off his forehead. ] Get some sleep.
[ snatching his hand back, ronan starts to rise from the bed. ]
[ ronan's voice washes over adam, somehow soothing. for all that his words are usually caustic and sharp, ronan's voice itself is... nice. adam's never really thought it before, but now that he's noticed it he knows he'll never be able to un-notice it. he opens his eyes to blink at ronan, contemplating getting up and going to school just to be contrary, but the fact is that he wouldn't even make it through the drive there without passing out. it's better for him to stay home than get detention for sleeping in class.
his eyes slip closed, and he'd have fallen asleep in a second if that weren't the moment that ronan reaches out and brushes his hand through his hair. adam's breath catches, and his eyes snap open again. ronan's not looking at him though, starting to rise from the bed, and adam doesn't even think about it before he reaches out to grab his wrist. if he had been thinking about it, he would have let ronan go. he probably still should, honestly. but he abruptly can't stand the thought of falling asleep alone, nevermind that he's done so for the entirety of his life up to this point. it takes a moment for adam to work up to saying the words, though, and when he does, his voice is small. ]
[ it's ronan's breath that catches when adam's fingers close around his wrist. if he hadn't been watching adam's face when he spoke, he might've thought he imagined those two small words. the sky outside adam's window is the gilded blue of early morning, the time between night and day when not even the birds are awake yet and the world seems to be holding its breath. ronan, himself lacking sleep, wonders for an insane moment if this is some kind of bizarre, vivid dream.
but he knows when he's asleep and when he's awake, and adam's hand on his skin is too warm, too real for a dream. which means adam really did just ask him to stay. ronan's heart does a funny stuttering thing and speeds up. for a moment, he's afraid adam will be able to feel it in the pulse in his wrist.
slowly, he lowers himself onto the bed again, sitting that same distance from the edge that's not too comfortable. he doesn't try to take his arm back, just sighs quietly to himself, acting put-upon because if he doesn't he might embarrass himself. ]
What, you want me to sit here until you fall asleep?
[ adam can, in fact, feel the jump in ronan's pulse -- it's not too distinct, but he's hyper-aware of that point of contact, even though he's exhausted. he brushes his thumb over ronan's pulse and gives his wrist a light squeeze, wondering briefly what the hell he's doing before he responds: ]
Yes.
[ he's only saying this because he's too tired to stop himself. at least that's what adam's trying to tell himself, but if he's too tired to stop himself from asking ronan to stay, then he's also too tired to lie to himself. he can ignore that until he wakes up, though. it's too early to have any epiphanies about feelings or sexuality.
thinking better of that answer, though, adam shakes his head. ]
No, I want you to stay.
[ he scoots back on the bed, tugging ronan by his wrist as he does so. his intention is clear: for ronan to lay down with him. now this might actually be because he's too tired to think better of it, but hey. go big or go home, right? adam's sick and tired of dancing around this thing ronan has for him, a thing he would have said yesterday was one-sided. now... now he's not so sure. and he wants to find out. ]
[ if adam could feel the change in his pulse before, he'll definitely be able to feel it when it skips as adam's thumb passes over his wrist. ronan's heart is beating so fast he's pretty sure adam can probably hear it as well as feel it. a second ago he was certain this wasn't a dream, but now he's doubting himself again. adam can't possibly want what ronan wants.
he pulls a breath deep into his lungs. it's just the drugs talking. he lets the breath back out. probably the exhaustion, too. would it be taking advantage if he gave in, knowing adam probably isn't even aware of what he's saying?
but between the words adam says, with his heavier-than-usual accent, and his hand on ronan's wrist, ronan feels like the helpless one. ]
Fine.
[ he kicks off his shoes before allowing himself to be pulled down into the space adam made. it's still warm and everything smells like adam, which isn't helpful at all. for a second he lies on his back, staring at the ceiling and questioning his choices, and then he rolls to face adam. ] Are you going to shut the fuck up and go to sleep now?
[ it feels like it takes forever for ronan to decide to lay down, and in the intervening time adam's heart is in his throat. honestly, it would probably be better if ronan refused -- god knows how he's going to explain this when he wakes up, or what will come next -- but adam can't help but feel, strangely, as if this is some sort of... crucial moment for the two of them. crucial in what way, he doesn't know, just that it's important and if ronan rejects him now... then something important will be lost.
it's probably just the exhaustion talking.
still, despite that, he lets out a relieved breath when ronan shucks off his shoes and gets into the bed next to him. adam is still holding his wrist captive, and he doesn't plan to let go of it any time soon. he watches as ronan stares up at the ceiling for a long moment, but drops his eyes when ronan actually turns to face him. a small smile starts to form on his lips at ronan's question, and he closes his eyes and nods. ]
Yeah, I'll sleep. You should too.
[ the last is tacked on as if an afterthought, and he ducks his chin to try (unsuccessfully) to hide a yawn. after, he shifts around slightly to get more comfortable on the bed, and in doing so slips his hand from ronan's wrist to loosely curl around his palm. after a moment's pause, adam angles his hand so that he can actually take hold of ronan's.
[ they're close enough that ronan catches the beginnings of adam's smile, and he wishes he could freeze the moment and put it in his pocket. that way he could take it out again later, after adam comes to his senses, and remember how good it felt when he thought this could be real.
even after adam closes his eyes, ronan keeps his open, tracing the lines of adam's face and counting the nearly invisible freckles scattered across adam's nose and cheeks. his heart is still beating a little too fast and he can't make it slow down, no matter how many times he tells it to. it becomes completely impossible when adam's fingers slip around his, and ronan is so startled he looks down to confirm that, yes, adam parrish is holding his hand. as if lying in bed together weren't hazardous enough on its own.
"you should too." like it's that easy. adam falls asleep right away, but ronan can't, not when his pulse his racing and he's measuring his breathing because adam is holding his fucking hand. he has to remind himself that adam was crashing from a drug-induced high and sleep deprivation when he did it, so he shouldn't read too much into it. he should probably let go, so that adam doesn't wake up and freak out and they can go on with their lives without ever talking about it again.
he doesn't. somewhere between wondering why adam grabbed his hand in the first place and contemplating the length of his eyelashes, ronan falls into sound, dreamless sleep. ]
[ when adam wakes up, he's still tired. that's nothing new, and something he's learned to live with over the years. he takes a moment to scrunch his eyes shut tight and pass his free hand over his face --
wait. his free hand?
slowly, adam opens his eyes. he's met with ronan's face, inches from his own, their hands loosely clasped between them. the memory of that morning hits him like -- like his father's fist. terrifying and sickening and oh, god, what's he done now? it takes adam a second to be able to move, frozen as he is in mortification, and when he does he tries to be as quiet and slow as possible, so as not to wake ronan up. once he's out of bed and certain that ronan's still asleep, he immediately goes to check the time -- 2:27 pm, so he still has two hours before he has to be in to the factory. that gives him an hour to figure out how to deal with this... situation he's gotten himself into.
turning back toward the bed, adam looks at ronan. just... looks. he's peaceful in sleep in a way he isn't in the waking world, and that doesn't exactly track, does it, because ronan has nightmares. lots of nightmares. nightmares that keep him from sleeping for more than three hours at a time and which leave him waking up with corpses of himself. but today, now, he's undeniably peaceful, and the thought that it could be adam that's done that for him makes something in adam's chest tighten unbearably. he wants so badly for it to be true, but he can't tell why -- is it vanity? wanting to be that important to someone else, because he's never been important to anyone before? or is it something else, something more? the very idea scares adam.
he's never had a problem with the thought that ronan might be gay. what bothers adam -- what terrifies him -- is the idea that he could be. not gay, obviously, because there was blue, but bisexual. anything but straight, really. and he knows why, why it's okay for everyone else but not for him, but that doesn't make the fact that the idea of having any kind of feelings for ronan scares the shit out of him go away. his father hated him enough just for existing, if adam had had the gall to be different? he probably wouldn't have even made it long enough to meet gansey. there is an instinctive part of adam warning him away from thinking about all this too much, because what he finds will get him in trouble, and adam's only lived this long because he's always listened to that voice in the past.
but now... he doesn't live with robert parrish anymore. robert parrish has a fucking restraining order. adam can think whatever he wants to, and no one's going to tell his dad. the thought had honestly never occurred to adam before.
slowly, he walks back over to the bed and sits on the edge of it. even more slowly, he reaches out for ronan's hand and takes it in his own, carefully considering his emotions as he does. it's not something he's particularly adept at, navigating his own feelings, but he wants to try. for his own sake, if not ronan's. ]
[ it's true that ronan rarely sleeps for nightmares. not just because he's afraid of them, because they used to try to kill him, but because he's afraid of bringing them back and endangering his friends. his dreams haven't been quite as dangerous since he came to terms with some things about himself. even so, he hasn't quite been able to break his insomnious habit or shake the fear of what awaits him on the other side.
so it's a wonder he was able to sleep at all, let alone sleep through his phone going off with multiple texts from gansey. at the very least, adam untangling their hands and getting out of bed should've disturbed him, but either adam has a promising future as a spy or cat burglar, or ronan was just that far gone. at some point between adam leaving and returning to bed, ronan must have become subconsciously aware of his absence because he shifts in his sleep, his fingers curling around nothing. but it's not until adam takes his hand again that he really wakes.
before he even opens his eyes, he inhales, his chest and shoulders rising, and as he lets it out again, his fingers tighten around adam's. that seems to trigger something, because he goes from foggy to fully conscious faster than the bmw goes zero to sixty. the pieces of last night—that morning—slam into place, and he realizes that the moment he'd been dreading up until he fell asleep has arrived. all he did was blink.
but there's a few pieces he's not sure where to put, like adam sitting on the edge of the bed instead of where he fell asleep. that means he woke up before ronan, that he left and came back, and he's still holding ronan's hand? in all the scenarios ronan imagined, there wasn't one that allowed for this possibility.
he tries to swallow, but his heart is in his throat. ]
Parrish. [ his voice is rough with disuse, and his tongue feels clumsy, too big for his mouth. he'd say it's too early for this, but based on the position of the shadows that can't be true. when he looks at adam, all the questions he's too afraid to voice are in his eyes: what are you doing?what are we doing? he pushes himself onto his elbow and hangs his head. ] ...shit.
[ adam had hoped that ronan wouldn't wake up for a while longer, so that he could work through his thoughts without having to talk about them. of course that means that he wakes up almost as soon as adam's taken his hand again. rather than let go of his hand, as was adam's first instinct, he deliberately curls his fingers around ronan's, holding his hand tighter. his heart is pounding and he can hear the blood rushing in his ears, but over all of that he can hear ronan.
it's not that anything clicks into place, exactly -- he's still not sure what he feels, or how much, or anything like that. there's no magical moment where he realizes that he's in love with ronan and that realization fixes both of them and they get a happily ever after. adam does realize, though, that there's only one way to figure out all of this for sure. with that thought in mind, it makes perfect sense to lean forward, slowly, until his lips land on ronan's. it's a clumsy sort of kiss, conscious as he is of the fact that he hasn't brushed his teeth yet, or kissed anyone before, but it's not meant to be sexy or exciting. it's a question, more than anything, one that he's not sure ronan will have the answer to. ]
[ his first thought is: i'm dreaming. it's the only thing that makes sense. that he's still asleep and dreaming makes more sense than him being awake and having adam kiss him. for a moment, he can't move, can't even breathe (which is probably for the better, since his breath must be awful). but, several heartbeats later, he exhales through his nose and closes his eyes. whether he's dreaming or not, the fact remains that adam is kissing him, and he might as well enjoy it before reality catches up with him.
he holds adam's hand a little tighter and presses back against adam's lips. as far as first kisses go, it's a pretty nice one. but he always thought kissing adam would be nice, when he let himself think about it.
but, after a moment, his brain comes back online and doubt comes creeping up on him. his heart is beating so hard he almost can't hear himself think. it would be better if he couldn't hear himself think, because then he probably wouldn't be pulling back, wouldn't be frowning with a pained look in his eyes, as if anticipating the heartbreak he's about to experience. he leans away far enough to be able to look at adam without going cross-eyed. ]
You're not still high, are you?
[ because, aside from this being a dream, or worse, just adam being a dream, that's the next most plausible explanation in ronan's mind for what's happening. ]
[ the kiss is nice while it lasts, though it doesn't last long. just as adam's moving to angle his head a bit, slot their lips together more neatly, ronan pulls away, and the look on his face makes adam's stomach drop. he did something wrong, obviously. maybe ronan doesn't like him the way he thought he did? but he'd been sure -- he'd been certain -- ronan kissed him back, didn't he? there's a moment where all adam can do is quietly panic, the same as in the morning when he thought about missing school. when ronan actually speaks, he goes through a range of emotions, which, being that he's still tired, must show on his face. there's relief that the kiss wasn't the problem, then confusion at the question, then some not inconsiderable indignance, and then, lastly, a sort of sheepish acceptance. yes, he did kind of deserve this reaction, seeing as how just that morning he was coming down off of dream-made adderall and extremely fucked up. still, the question does sting a bit. ]
No, I'm not high. It's been hours, I'm totally sober. I just wanted --
[ adam cuts himself off, frowning down at the mattress as he thinks through his next words. he doesn't want to come off as just using ronan as an experiment -- granted, he sort of was, but not in a mean way. he figured he knew the answer to the question already or why would he be asking it, he just... needed confirmation. but even with as little knowledge as he has of the way gay people work, he knows it's not really nice to tell someone "i needed to figure something out so i kissed you". no one likes being used like that.
eventually, he starts up again, though still avoiding ronan's eyes. ]
I wanted to see if what I thought I felt was actually what I felt.
[ he winces a little at how ridiculous that sounds, but doesn't clarify. maybe ronan will just get it and they can move on from this whole conversation. ]
[ despite adam's claim of being sober, ronan can't bring himself to relax. he still feels like he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. before today, he'd spent so long convincing himself adam didn't feel the same way, that he probably didn't even swing that way, it's just easier to come up with reasons why that's still true than to accept the opposite.
but, fuck if that kiss didn't spark a tiny flame of hope inside him. he's hardly breathing as he waits for adam to find his words. he finishes the sentence, "i just wanted—", in his own head half a dozen different ways, not all of them good. that this is all just some kind of experiment for adam does occur to him, and even if it's not in a mean way, it'll hurt just as much. if that's the case, ronan will be pissed, but mostly he'll be crushed, which he'll disguise as more anger.
the answer he finally gets is a little too close to that scenario for ronan's comfort. he shifts, extricating his hand from adam's, because he doesn't think he'd be able to stand that point of contact while being let down. a chill sweeps across his palm once it's separated from adam's. ]
What did you think you felt? [ his voice is tense, tightly moderated to hide whatever emotions he might otherwise expose. ]
[ fuck. he screwed up. adam's hand reaches back for ronan's before he can stop himself, but once he realizes what he's doing he drops it back in his lap. this time, he tries to really take his time finding something to say that won't make ronan hate him. after nearly a minute of thinking, adam slowly begins to speak. ]
I thought I might like you. But I haven't really... [ this part is hard to get out, reluctant as adam is to ever really talk about his parents, his father in particular. but he obviously hurt ronan, he can see that easily, and he wants to fix it. hopefully a real explanation will help. ] My dad wasn't ever really... a fan. Of that kind of thing. So I had never thought about it before, until you. And I knew -- or, I guess I was pretty sure that you liked me, so.
[ abruptly, adam realizes that none of this is helping and he groans, running his hand over his face. talking is hard, why can't they just keep kissing? ]
I didn't mean that like it sounded, I wasn't using you. I meant -- I do like you, I just wanted to be sure. I was like... 85% sure? But that was all, you know, drug- and exhaustion-fueled epiphanies and I wanted to know for sure. Now I'm 100% sure.
[ jesus christ, he needs to stop rambling. adam bites his lip, frowning deeply at the mattress instead of looking at ronan. ]
[ the first part of adam's speech definitely doesn't help. the mention of robert parrish has a sobering effect, as it always does. unhappily, ronan is reminded of declan and the look on his face when he saw ronan's leg draped over adam's lap in the backseat of the pig. the difference is that if declan ever tried to punch him for being gay, ronan would just punch back twice as hard. still, he gets it. even though adam is out of his parents' trailer and his dad has a restraining order, fathers have a way of casting long shadows that are difficult to escape.
but all ronan can hear after the "so" is: "so i decided to test my newfound sexuality on you, since i knew you wouldn't refuse." and that's a unique pain he's never before experienced.
he pushes himself into a sitting position, muttering, "fuck this." he's tempted to leave the bed and the apartment altogether. but adam keeps talking, and what he says next brings all the gears working furiously in ronan's brain to a screeching halt. the stormy look on his face turns to confusion and uncertainty, then a tentative sort of calm. the hopeful flame inside him grows. adam may be rambling, but out of the tumble of words ronan gleaned one very important thing: ]
...You like me?
[ he'd been almost afraid to say it, as if saying it out loud would scare it off. ]
[ adam is expecting ronan to get fed up with him and leave -- not so much because of ronan himself, but because he was being an idiot and phrasing everything wrong and he would deserve it if ronan did leave. when he curses and pushes himself up to sitting, adam closes his eyes tight, waiting for the creak of the mattress to signify that ronan is leaving. it never comes, though. instead there's quiet, long seconds of it, and adam opens his eyes to look at ronan. his expression is inscrutable, too calm to give anything away, but if ronan were actually angry he'd already be out the door, so maybe adam hasn't fucked this up entirely. if that weren't enough to put adam at ease (and simultaneously make his heart feel like it's going to beat out of his chest) ronan's question and the nakedly hopeful tone of voice he says it in would do it on their own.
it feels weird to say it while actually looking at ronan -- no, not weird, exactly. it makes adam feel vulnerable, in a way that is both incredibly uncomfortable and terrifying as a heart attack. but ronan suffered through his rambling and hasn't left yet, so adam can look him in the eye when he says: ]
Yeah. I do. I like you.
[ it's possible this could be seen as moving too fast. maybe adam should have taken a few days to think things over, give himself a chance to really feel his way through it all. if he had a therapist, she'd probably say he's pushing himself too far, too fast because he finally can, now that he doesn't have his father's expectations looming over him. but hell, when has adam parrish ever done anything just because he wanted to? he wants to tell ronan he likes him, and he wants to kiss him again, and he wants to stay in this bed with him for the rest of the day. maybe he can't have all the things he wants, but he'll settle for just one. ]
[ it still seems too good to be true. ronan watches adam's mouth frame the words, hears them in his voice that's tinged with the colors of a henrietta sunset, but he still doesn't dare to believe it. he makes good forgeries too; after all, he learned from the best. with the dream pills burning a hole in his pocket, ronan glances around the tiny room, from the bathroom to the front door to window over his shoulder, like he expects the real adam to reappear any second. they were touching when he woke up, so it's entirely possible he took this adam out of a dream by accident, right? and the real adam woke up hours ago, somehow without ronan noticing, and booked it to school to turn in the homework he almost killed himself over.
the thought sits like a weight in his stomach, and not for the first time he resents being the greywaren. anyone else wouldn't have to ask themselves if the boy who just confessed to liking them is real or something they dreamed up.
but ronan doesn't remember dreaming, and he always remembers, especially his greywaren dreams. he's always aware of the creating, even if he can't always control what happens after, whether it comes back with him or not. but his sleep had been blissfully blank, which probably had something to do with adam's fingers slotted between his and the smell of dust and motor oil and adam's shampoo surrounding him. for all the questions and uncertainties circling his brain as he fell asleep, he'd also felt inexplicably safe and content, because that's what adam means to him.
a little of the tension leaves his shoulders, and he relents. ]
You should've led with that, asshole, instead of making me think I wasted my first kiss.
[ ...he hadn't actually meant to say that last part out loud. heat rushes to his face, and he ducks his head like he can hide it. his heart is beating heavily in his chest, each pulsation seeming to echo: he likes me, he likes me, he likes me.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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whatever the case, he takes a deep breath and lets his hands slip down adam's arm's to his elbows, lingering a moment too long before he lets him go and takes a step away. he runs his hands over his own head and strings together a number of profanities, among them the words "kill" and "kavinsky."
his arms drop to his sides as he faces adam again. ] Hey, smart guy. [ he snaps his fingers, in case adam zoned out again. ] You know there's no way you can go to school like this, right?
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No, I -- I can go. It's just wearing off, it'll be out of my system by the time first period starts.
[ he hopes so, anyway. but after that he'll have to get through nearly seven hours of classes and five hours of work without any chemical help.
yeah. he really monumentally fucked himself over. ]
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he should hate the idea, but he doesn't. ]
You better fucking hope it wears off, otherwise Gansey's going to figure out something's wrong.
[ and ronan has been on the receiving end of gansey's "don't abuse mind-altering substances" lecture enough times to know adam's not going to enjoy it. he doesn't give ronan the lecture anymore, though the concerned side-eyeing whenever ronan has a little too much to drink isn't any better. ]
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[ how, exactly, adam isn't sure, but he's too relieved that ronan isn't pressing the stay-at-home issue to really think too hard about it. running a hand over his face, adam drops heavily onto his mattress, sighing. after a moment, he drops his hand from his face and looks blearily up at ronan. ]
Kavinsky gave me a whole bottle of pills. Could you get rid of them? It's in the washroom, on the sink.
[ adam had planned to keep the bottle for any further emergencies, but if this has taught him anything it's that it's better to let exhaustion take him than turn to pills. if he doesn't get rid of the drugs, though, he might try them again one day when he's really desperate, and that would just be a fucking terrible idea. ]
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he has more important things to deal with, like getting rid of those mystery pills. ]
A whole bottle? Seriously? [ he gives adam a look that says: are you fucking insane? before turning on his heel and ducking into the bathroom. he finds the bottle, picks it up off the sink, and turns it around in his hand. the label seems legit at first glance. kavinsky was always good at making forgeries. as he uncaps the bottle, he calls, ] How many of these did you take, exactly?
[ he pockets a couple of the pills, just in case he needs them when he has Words with kavinsky later (he's already decided that he will), and then upends the remaining contents into the toilet.
there's a flushing sound. as the pills whirlpool around the toilet bowl, ronan chucks the bottle and heads back into the room. ]
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it takes a second too long, but adam finally responds to ronan's question, his speech slurring and slightly muffled from where he's pressed into the mattress. ]
He said to take two, so I only took one. Figured it was safer.
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he exhales deeply and continues to the bed, perching on it close enough to the edge to make it clear he doesn't plan on staying. ]
Well, I guess you weren't a complete idiot. Thank God for small mercies.
[ gone is the tension in his voice, the pinched, almost pained tone. before he can think about it, he reaches over and brushes adam's hair off his forehead. ] Get some sleep.
[ snatching his hand back, ronan starts to rise from the bed. ]
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his eyes slip closed, and he'd have fallen asleep in a second if that weren't the moment that ronan reaches out and brushes his hand through his hair. adam's breath catches, and his eyes snap open again. ronan's not looking at him though, starting to rise from the bed, and adam doesn't even think about it before he reaches out to grab his wrist. if he had been thinking about it, he would have let ronan go. he probably still should, honestly. but he abruptly can't stand the thought of falling asleep alone, nevermind that he's done so for the entirety of his life up to this point. it takes a moment for adam to work up to saying the words, though, and when he does, his voice is small. ]
Don't go.
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but he knows when he's asleep and when he's awake, and adam's hand on his skin is too warm, too real for a dream. which means adam really did just ask him to stay. ronan's heart does a funny stuttering thing and speeds up. for a moment, he's afraid adam will be able to feel it in the pulse in his wrist.
slowly, he lowers himself onto the bed again, sitting that same distance from the edge that's not too comfortable. he doesn't try to take his arm back, just sighs quietly to himself, acting put-upon because if he doesn't he might embarrass himself. ]
What, you want me to sit here until you fall asleep?
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Yes.
[ he's only saying this because he's too tired to stop himself. at least that's what adam's trying to tell himself, but if he's too tired to stop himself from asking ronan to stay, then he's also too tired to lie to himself. he can ignore that until he wakes up, though. it's too early to have any epiphanies about feelings or sexuality.
thinking better of that answer, though, adam shakes his head. ]
No, I want you to stay.
[ he scoots back on the bed, tugging ronan by his wrist as he does so. his intention is clear: for ronan to lay down with him. now this might actually be because he's too tired to think better of it, but hey. go big or go home, right? adam's sick and tired of dancing around this thing ronan has for him, a thing he would have said yesterday was one-sided. now... now he's not so sure. and he wants to find out. ]
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he pulls a breath deep into his lungs. it's just the drugs talking. he lets the breath back out. probably the exhaustion, too. would it be taking advantage if he gave in, knowing adam probably isn't even aware of what he's saying?
but between the words adam says, with his heavier-than-usual accent, and his hand on ronan's wrist, ronan feels like the helpless one. ]
Fine.
[ he kicks off his shoes before allowing himself to be pulled down into the space adam made. it's still warm and everything smells like adam, which isn't helpful at all. for a second he lies on his back, staring at the ceiling and questioning his choices, and then he rolls to face adam. ] Are you going to shut the fuck up and go to sleep now?
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it's probably just the exhaustion talking.
still, despite that, he lets out a relieved breath when ronan shucks off his shoes and gets into the bed next to him. adam is still holding his wrist captive, and he doesn't plan to let go of it any time soon. he watches as ronan stares up at the ceiling for a long moment, but drops his eyes when ronan actually turns to face him. a small smile starts to form on his lips at ronan's question, and he closes his eyes and nods. ]
Yeah, I'll sleep. You should too.
[ the last is tacked on as if an afterthought, and he ducks his chin to try (unsuccessfully) to hide a yawn. after, he shifts around slightly to get more comfortable on the bed, and in doing so slips his hand from ronan's wrist to loosely curl around his palm. after a moment's pause, adam angles his hand so that he can actually take hold of ronan's.
after that, he's asleep within a minute. ]
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jk here's the real tag
even after adam closes his eyes, ronan keeps his open, tracing the lines of adam's face and counting the nearly invisible freckles scattered across adam's nose and cheeks. his heart is still beating a little too fast and he can't make it slow down, no matter how many times he tells it to. it becomes completely impossible when adam's fingers slip around his, and ronan is so startled he looks down to confirm that, yes, adam parrish is holding his hand. as if lying in bed together weren't hazardous enough on its own.
"you should too." like it's that easy. adam falls asleep right away, but ronan can't, not when his pulse his racing and he's measuring his breathing because adam is holding his fucking hand. he has to remind himself that adam was crashing from a drug-induced high and sleep deprivation when he did it, so he shouldn't read too much into it. he should probably let go, so that adam doesn't wake up and freak out and they can go on with their lives without ever talking about it again.
he doesn't. somewhere between wondering why adam grabbed his hand in the first place and contemplating the length of his eyelashes, ronan falls into sound, dreamless sleep. ]
you nerd
wait. his free hand?
slowly, adam opens his eyes. he's met with ronan's face, inches from his own, their hands loosely clasped between them. the memory of that morning hits him like -- like his father's fist. terrifying and sickening and oh, god, what's he done now? it takes adam a second to be able to move, frozen as he is in mortification, and when he does he tries to be as quiet and slow as possible, so as not to wake ronan up. once he's out of bed and certain that ronan's still asleep, he immediately goes to check the time -- 2:27 pm, so he still has two hours before he has to be in to the factory. that gives him an hour to figure out how to deal with this... situation he's gotten himself into.
turning back toward the bed, adam looks at ronan. just... looks. he's peaceful in sleep in a way he isn't in the waking world, and that doesn't exactly track, does it, because ronan has nightmares. lots of nightmares. nightmares that keep him from sleeping for more than three hours at a time and which leave him waking up with corpses of himself. but today, now, he's undeniably peaceful, and the thought that it could be adam that's done that for him makes something in adam's chest tighten unbearably. he wants so badly for it to be true, but he can't tell why -- is it vanity? wanting to be that important to someone else, because he's never been important to anyone before? or is it something else, something more? the very idea scares adam.
he's never had a problem with the thought that ronan might be gay. what bothers adam -- what terrifies him -- is the idea that he could be. not gay, obviously, because there was blue, but bisexual. anything but straight, really. and he knows why, why it's okay for everyone else but not for him, but that doesn't make the fact that the idea of having any kind of feelings for ronan scares the shit out of him go away. his father hated him enough just for existing, if adam had had the gall to be different? he probably wouldn't have even made it long enough to meet gansey. there is an instinctive part of adam warning him away from thinking about all this too much, because what he finds will get him in trouble, and adam's only lived this long because he's always listened to that voice in the past.
but now... he doesn't live with robert parrish anymore. robert parrish has a fucking restraining order. adam can think whatever he wants to, and no one's going to tell his dad. the thought had honestly never occurred to adam before.
slowly, he walks back over to the bed and sits on the edge of it. even more slowly, he reaches out for ronan's hand and takes it in his own, carefully considering his emotions as he does. it's not something he's particularly adept at, navigating his own feelings, but he wants to try. for his own sake, if not ronan's. ]
guilty
so it's a wonder he was able to sleep at all, let alone sleep through his phone going off with multiple texts from gansey. at the very least, adam untangling their hands and getting out of bed should've disturbed him, but either adam has a promising future as a spy or cat burglar, or ronan was just that far gone. at some point between adam leaving and returning to bed, ronan must have become subconsciously aware of his absence because he shifts in his sleep, his fingers curling around nothing. but it's not until adam takes his hand again that he really wakes.
before he even opens his eyes, he inhales, his chest and shoulders rising, and as he lets it out again, his fingers tighten around adam's. that seems to trigger something, because he goes from foggy to fully conscious faster than the bmw goes zero to sixty. the pieces of last night—that morning—slam into place, and he realizes that the moment he'd been dreading up until he fell asleep has arrived. all he did was blink.
but there's a few pieces he's not sure where to put, like adam sitting on the edge of the bed instead of where he fell asleep. that means he woke up before ronan, that he left and came back, and he's still holding ronan's hand? in all the scenarios ronan imagined, there wasn't one that allowed for this possibility.
he tries to swallow, but his heart is in his throat. ]
Parrish. [ his voice is rough with disuse, and his tongue feels clumsy, too big for his mouth. he'd say it's too early for this, but based on the position of the shadows that can't be true. when he looks at adam, all the questions he's too afraid to voice are in his eyes: what are you doing? what are we doing? he pushes himself onto his elbow and hangs his head. ] ...shit.
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it's not that anything clicks into place, exactly -- he's still not sure what he feels, or how much, or anything like that. there's no magical moment where he realizes that he's in love with ronan and that realization fixes both of them and they get a happily ever after. adam does realize, though, that there's only one way to figure out all of this for sure. with that thought in mind, it makes perfect sense to lean forward, slowly, until his lips land on ronan's. it's a clumsy sort of kiss, conscious as he is of the fact that he hasn't brushed his teeth yet, or kissed anyone before, but it's not meant to be sexy or exciting. it's a question, more than anything, one that he's not sure ronan will have the answer to. ]
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he holds adam's hand a little tighter and presses back against adam's lips. as far as first kisses go, it's a pretty nice one. but he always thought kissing adam would be nice, when he let himself think about it.
but, after a moment, his brain comes back online and doubt comes creeping up on him. his heart is beating so hard he almost can't hear himself think. it would be better if he couldn't hear himself think, because then he probably wouldn't be pulling back, wouldn't be frowning with a pained look in his eyes, as if anticipating the heartbreak he's about to experience. he leans away far enough to be able to look at adam without going cross-eyed. ]
You're not still high, are you?
[ because, aside from this being a dream, or worse, just adam being a dream, that's the next most plausible explanation in ronan's mind for what's happening. ]
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No, I'm not high. It's been hours, I'm totally sober. I just wanted --
[ adam cuts himself off, frowning down at the mattress as he thinks through his next words. he doesn't want to come off as just using ronan as an experiment -- granted, he sort of was, but not in a mean way. he figured he knew the answer to the question already or why would he be asking it, he just... needed confirmation. but even with as little knowledge as he has of the way gay people work, he knows it's not really nice to tell someone "i needed to figure something out so i kissed you". no one likes being used like that.
eventually, he starts up again, though still avoiding ronan's eyes. ]
I wanted to see if what I thought I felt was actually what I felt.
[ he winces a little at how ridiculous that sounds, but doesn't clarify. maybe ronan will just get it and they can move on from this whole conversation. ]
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but, fuck if that kiss didn't spark a tiny flame of hope inside him. he's hardly breathing as he waits for adam to find his words. he finishes the sentence, "i just wanted—", in his own head half a dozen different ways, not all of them good. that this is all just some kind of experiment for adam does occur to him, and even if it's not in a mean way, it'll hurt just as much. if that's the case, ronan will be pissed, but mostly he'll be crushed, which he'll disguise as more anger.
the answer he finally gets is a little too close to that scenario for ronan's comfort. he shifts, extricating his hand from adam's, because he doesn't think he'd be able to stand that point of contact while being let down. a chill sweeps across his palm once it's separated from adam's. ]
What did you think you felt? [ his voice is tense, tightly moderated to hide whatever emotions he might otherwise expose. ]
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I thought I might like you. But I haven't really... [ this part is hard to get out, reluctant as adam is to ever really talk about his parents, his father in particular. but he obviously hurt ronan, he can see that easily, and he wants to fix it. hopefully a real explanation will help. ] My dad wasn't ever really... a fan. Of that kind of thing. So I had never thought about it before, until you. And I knew -- or, I guess I was pretty sure that you liked me, so.
[ abruptly, adam realizes that none of this is helping and he groans, running his hand over his face. talking is hard, why can't they just keep kissing? ]
I didn't mean that like it sounded, I wasn't using you. I meant -- I do like you, I just wanted to be sure. I was like... 85% sure? But that was all, you know, drug- and exhaustion-fueled epiphanies and I wanted to know for sure. Now I'm 100% sure.
[ jesus christ, he needs to stop rambling. adam bites his lip, frowning deeply at the mattress instead of looking at ronan. ]
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but all ronan can hear after the "so" is: "so i decided to test my newfound sexuality on you, since i knew you wouldn't refuse." and that's a unique pain he's never before experienced.
he pushes himself into a sitting position, muttering, "fuck this." he's tempted to leave the bed and the apartment altogether. but adam keeps talking, and what he says next brings all the gears working furiously in ronan's brain to a screeching halt. the stormy look on his face turns to confusion and uncertainty, then a tentative sort of calm. the hopeful flame inside him grows. adam may be rambling, but out of the tumble of words ronan gleaned one very important thing: ]
...You like me?
[ he'd been almost afraid to say it, as if saying it out loud would scare it off. ]
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it feels weird to say it while actually looking at ronan -- no, not weird, exactly. it makes adam feel vulnerable, in a way that is both incredibly uncomfortable and terrifying as a heart attack. but ronan suffered through his rambling and hasn't left yet, so adam can look him in the eye when he says: ]
Yeah. I do. I like you.
[ it's possible this could be seen as moving too fast. maybe adam should have taken a few days to think things over, give himself a chance to really feel his way through it all. if he had a therapist, she'd probably say he's pushing himself too far, too fast because he finally can, now that he doesn't have his father's expectations looming over him. but hell, when has adam parrish ever done anything just because he wanted to? he wants to tell ronan he likes him, and he wants to kiss him again, and he wants to stay in this bed with him for the rest of the day. maybe he can't have all the things he wants, but he'll settle for just one. ]
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the thought sits like a weight in his stomach, and not for the first time he resents being the greywaren. anyone else wouldn't have to ask themselves if the boy who just confessed to liking them is real or something they dreamed up.
but ronan doesn't remember dreaming, and he always remembers, especially his greywaren dreams. he's always aware of the creating, even if he can't always control what happens after, whether it comes back with him or not. but his sleep had been blissfully blank, which probably had something to do with adam's fingers slotted between his and the smell of dust and motor oil and adam's shampoo surrounding him. for all the questions and uncertainties circling his brain as he fell asleep, he'd also felt inexplicably safe and content, because that's what adam means to him.
a little of the tension leaves his shoulders, and he relents. ]
You should've led with that, asshole, instead of making me think I wasted my first kiss.
[ ...he hadn't actually meant to say that last part out loud. heat rushes to his face, and he ducks his head like he can hide it. his heart is beating heavily in his chest, each pulsation seeming to echo: he likes me, he likes me, he likes me.
and i like him. ]