[ for once, ronan doesn't have a rude comeback or biting remark. he can't say what he's really thinking, that there's only one way out of this mess, so he says nothing. he could do what adam's doing and deny the obvious, joke about how maybe cabeswater's just decorating for the holidays, but he's not in the practice of denying things anymore. not admitting something isn't the same as denying it.
even though he's not looking at adam, he can feel adam looking at him. every nerve in his body is on edge and there's a restless energy under his skin. unconsciously, he wets his lips and bites the bottom one, a quick catch and release, like he senses that's exactly where adam's looking. he doesn't have to look at adam to know the shape of his mouth; he's studied it over the course of a thousand subtle (and not so subtle) glances, seen it chewing the end of a pencil, parted just so in sleep, smiling and cursing and disapproving and laughing. he's imagined kissing it and tracing it with his fingers and how it would feel if adam—did things ronan can't afford to think about here, when they're standing so close and can't move away from each other. the point is, he's memorized what adam's mouth looks like as much as he's memorized the rest of his face, his hands. and he...
...realizes he's been looking at adam while adam was looking at him, seconds before adam looked away.
his chest tightens and it's suddenly hard to breathe. with the lack of oxygen to his brain, he struggles to remember what adam just said. when he does, his mouth twists. ]
Yeah. And Gansey might stop wearing salmon-colored polo shirts. [ not fucking likely. despite himself, ronan glances up and his stomach drops to discover the mistletoe is still there. taunting them. unwittingly, he thinks about several dreams he's had about adam and cabeswater and wonders if they have anything to do with the way cabeswater is behaving now. a furrow appears on his brow and he bites his bracelets again before whipping his arm back to his side. ] If we're stuck here long enough, I might just dream up a goddamn axe and turn these fucking roots into fucking kindling.
[ he says it in the direction of a nearby tree, like a threat. because it is one. ]
[ in response to ronan's threat, the roots around their ankles only get tighter, and adam, unbalanced, sways forward slightly before he can get his weight redistributed properly. his hands fly out, unbidden, to grip at ronan's shoulders, holding himself upright while he shifts into a position where he can stand straight again. once he's got himself stable, though, he doesn't let go of ronan. instead he leaves his hands where they are, staring at ronan's lips with a deep frown on his face, like he's debating something in his head. after a moment, he grimaces, shuts his eyes tight, and leans forward until his lips touch ronan's.
it is, in all honesty, a truly unremarkable kiss. adam's not trying to make it a good one, though; all he wants is for cabeswater to release them so they can avoid talking about this ever again. after just a second, he leans back, looking up to check if the mistletoe is still there.
it is. ]
Fuck, [ he says, and drops his hands from ronan's shoulders. clearly, cabeswater isn't going to let them just half-ass it. ]
[ this time, as adam looks at him, ronan deliberately looks right back. but while he's watching adam's eyes, adam appears to be watching ronan's lips, and that makes his heart beat like a caged bird. before he can even open his mouth to ask the question, what the hell are you looking at?, adam kisses him.
adam kisses him.
adam parrish is kissing him, ronan lynch, and he can't do anything but stand there, figuratively and literally rooted to the spot. while adam's eyes are shut tightly, like he was bracing for impact, ronan's are open and wide, like a deer in headlights, and by the time he remembers how to move or breathe, adam is pulling back.
fuck doesn't even begin to cover it.
it figures the only time ronan gets adam to kiss him is while they're being held hostage by a sentient forest that's apparently gone rogue. ronan has half a mind to take a torch to the place, though he doesn't linger on that thought for fear the trees might decide to combust while they're still trapped. he doesn't need to look up to know that the mistletoe is still there. the roots haven't loosened their hold. ronan is starting to lose feeling in his left foot. ]
That was pathetic, Parrish, [ he says as if he has any authority on the subject. (he doesn't.) the low tone of his voice belies his uncertainty, the extent to which he's been shaken. all the same, he raises his hands and cup the sides of adam's neck. ] Here.
[ then he leans in and presses their lips together like he means it. ]
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no subject
even though he's not looking at adam, he can feel adam looking at him. every nerve in his body is on edge and there's a restless energy under his skin. unconsciously, he wets his lips and bites the bottom one, a quick catch and release, like he senses that's exactly where adam's looking. he doesn't have to look at adam to know the shape of his mouth; he's studied it over the course of a thousand subtle (and not so subtle) glances, seen it chewing the end of a pencil, parted just so in sleep, smiling and cursing and disapproving and laughing. he's imagined kissing it and tracing it with his fingers and how it would feel if adam—did things ronan can't afford to think about here, when they're standing so close and can't move away from each other. the point is, he's memorized what adam's mouth looks like as much as he's memorized the rest of his face, his hands. and he...
...realizes he's been looking at adam while adam was looking at him, seconds before adam looked away.
his chest tightens and it's suddenly hard to breathe. with the lack of oxygen to his brain, he struggles to remember what adam just said. when he does, his mouth twists. ]
Yeah. And Gansey might stop wearing salmon-colored polo shirts. [ not fucking likely. despite himself, ronan glances up and his stomach drops to discover the mistletoe is still there. taunting them. unwittingly, he thinks about several dreams he's had about adam and cabeswater and wonders if they have anything to do with the way cabeswater is behaving now. a furrow appears on his brow and he bites his bracelets again before whipping his arm back to his side. ] If we're stuck here long enough, I might just dream up a goddamn axe and turn these fucking roots into fucking kindling.
[ he says it in the direction of a nearby tree, like a threat. because it is one. ]
no subject
it is, in all honesty, a truly unremarkable kiss. adam's not trying to make it a good one, though; all he wants is for cabeswater to release them so they can avoid talking about this ever again. after just a second, he leans back, looking up to check if the mistletoe is still there.
it is. ]
Fuck, [ he says, and drops his hands from ronan's shoulders. clearly, cabeswater isn't going to let them just half-ass it. ]
no subject
adam kisses him.
adam parrish is kissing him, ronan lynch, and he can't do anything but stand there, figuratively and literally rooted to the spot. while adam's eyes are shut tightly, like he was bracing for impact, ronan's are open and wide, like a deer in headlights, and by the time he remembers how to move or breathe, adam is pulling back.
fuck doesn't even begin to cover it.
it figures the only time ronan gets adam to kiss him is while they're being held hostage by a sentient forest that's apparently gone rogue. ronan has half a mind to take a torch to the place, though he doesn't linger on that thought for fear the trees might decide to combust while they're still trapped. he doesn't need to look up to know that the mistletoe is still there. the roots haven't loosened their hold. ronan is starting to lose feeling in his left foot. ]
That was pathetic, Parrish, [ he says as if he has any authority on the subject. (he doesn't.) the low tone of his voice belies his uncertainty, the extent to which he's been shaken. all the same, he raises his hands and cup the sides of adam's neck. ] Here.
[ then he leans in and presses their lips together like he means it. ]