Chapter Text
Adam didn’t need this. With midterms looming so close, and the opening shift at the coffee shop the following morning at ass o’clock, he was really looking forward to going over his chemistry notes one more time and then getting an early night. Instead, he had been forced out of his tiny flat and down four flights of stairs by a blaring siren.
Adam really didn’t need this.
As he reached the parking lot, he noticed how chilly the night air was against his arms and cursed himself for not grabbing his jacket on the way out. He had moved to the city from his hometown of Henrietta only a couple months before, when he’d started college, and he was still a little nervous about his new surroundings. When the fire alarm had sounded, he’d hightailed it directly to the door as his landlord had instructed, but now he was wondering if maybe this was just a drill.
Looking around the parking lot at the other disgruntled tenants, he tried to find someone to ask. Everyone was engaged in conversation already, and Adam felt self-conscious about barging in and interrupting them to ask what was possibly a stupid question. After a few minutes of scanning the parking lot, he finally spotted one tenant who was standing on his own, not talking to anyone. Somehow, he managed to make his lack of activity look pointed.
Adam took a step closer. The other guy seemed to be in his early twenties, tall and broad-shouldered, with his hair shaved to an army-style buzzcut. Adam hoped he wasn’t some crazy survivalist type. Shaved Guy was wearing a black leather jacket, artfully ripped jeans (okay, so maybe not a survivalist) and—was that a raven perched on his shoulder? (…okay, definitely crazy).
Still, Adam had not made it out of the trailer park and into New York City only to be intimidated by a bird of prey, either literal or human-shaped. He walked up to the guy and, trying to hide his accent as best he could, started: “Um, hello. Can I ask you a question?”
The guy looked down at him (he was only about an inch and a half taller, which Adam found inexplicably frustrating, especially because Raven Guy managed to make it look like it was a foot) as if he was surprised and a little affronted anyone had had the gall to come up to him and make verbal contact. Adam did not doubt that was exactly the case.
“You already did, didn’t you?”
His tone was bored and downright rude, but Adam had the weird, unshakeable impression that his disinterest was not genuine.
“I guess I did. Another question, then,” he amended, trying his best not to let Raven Guy get under his skin. “I was wondering if you know what’s going on.” He tacked on a soft question mark at the end, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.
Raven Guy stared at him.
“Are you an idiot?”
Adam’s blood went up several degrees in temperature.
“Pardon me?” he asked, struggling to keep a lid on the anger about to swell up.
“Well, let’s see, a fire alarm just went off,” drawled Raven Guy, sounding, if possible, even more bored and condescending than before, “And now we’re all down here… could it be that there’s – oh, you know – maybe a fire?”
“I thought maybe it was just a drill,” Adam replied, quietly, the way he got very quiet when he was absolutely furious. In that way, he was very different from his father.
Wordlessly, Raven Guy just pointed at the penthouse floor of the building, where sure enough, now an ominous orange light was beginning to show. Adam did feel a bit like an idiot then, which did surprisingly little to placate his anger. He was just about to turn on Raven Guy and thank him for his help as venomously and sarcastically as he was able, when he felt a light touch to his elbow.
“Don’t mind Ronan,” a soft voice piped up to his left, on the side of his good ear. He turned to see a pale boy who looked… well… smudgy was not a good choice of word, but it was the only one Adam could come up with on the spot.
“He’s just mad because he set the fire himself. I’m Noah, by the way.” The pale, smudgy boy extended a hand to a bemused Adam.
“Wow, Noah, thanks, way to fucking have my back,” Raven Guy – who was apparently called Ronan – spat out, as Adam shook Noah’s hand. It was very cold.
“You live in the penthouse?” Adam’s accent coloured his words slightly in his surprise; it was hard to imagine two people that different living together.
Noah nodded. “He was trying to bake an Irish cream cake, and the alcohol caught on fire,” he whispered, conspiratorially. Adam couldn’t hold back a snort at that, though he tried – very poorly and belatedly – to hide it behind a hand. If it was hard to imagine Ronan and Noah living together, it was even harder to imagine Tall, Dark and Asshole (though, okay, Adam had to admit he was also very, very handsome) baking a cake.
“What the fuck, Noah,” complained Ronan, now absolutely livid. “What is wrong with you?”
“I was just trying to be friendly,” Noah shrugged defensively.
“Oh, friendly, I see, that’s awesome, man. So the first random guy rolls in from Hicksville and you throw me under the fucking bus?”
Adam saw red.
Not bothering to hide his accent anymore, for all the good it did, he stared Ronan right in the eye. “Maybe if your mama had taught you how to talk to people, your friends wouldn’t feel the irrepressible impulse to expose you for the bag of dicks you are.”
Ronan stared back at him in what looked like disbelief, outrage, annoyance and – was that a tiny, microscopic hint of respect Adam could see?
“Is that how it is?” he asked, dangerously pleasant. “And what the fuck do you think you fucking know about me, exactly?”
Adam didn’t hesitate one second: “I know you think you’re too damn cool to be nice to a stranger asking you a question. Well, and that you’re apparently a shit baker, but that’s neither here nor there.”
Noah gasped softly, Ronan opened his mouth to reply, and Adam was not at all sure he knew what he was doing, really, except that he was not going to step away from this, dammit—but before Ronan could fire back something truly incendiary, they were interrupted by a steady, pleasant, rich voice (Adam hadn’t thought it was possible for a voice to sound wealthy before, but there it was).
“What’s going on here?”
Adam expected the voice to come from a middle-aged politician. Instead, it was a boy that looked glaringly implausible standing in the dark parking lot of a badly maintained block of flats. He was wearing khakis, boat shoes, and a polo shirt that was… Adam wasn’t certain he knew the name of that shade. Some variation of turquoise that probably had an even fancier name. The boy was regarding him with an affable smile that looked practiced, but genuine curiosity was shining from behind his wire-framed glasses. Adam couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard Ronan mutter ‘oh, there we fucking go’ under his breath.
“I’m Gansey.” A hand was extended towards him with unwavering confidence.
“Adam Parrish,” Adam replied, a little puzzled, but shaking his hand regardless.
“Do I need to make apologies for Ronan? I usually do. Consider apologies extended. Come on, we’ll go and have pizza while this all blows over. I have been speaking to a few of the people handling the situation, and the fire has apparently not spread any further than our kitchen. Don’t ask. I don’t know. I don’t want to know. Gentlemen, shall we?”
He turned and headed towards the most hideously orange Camaro Adam had ever laid eyes on. Adam stared at it, then at Gansey’s retreating form again, as if he was certifiably insane. Ronan rolled his eyes and started stomping after Gansey, letting loose a litany of what was a truly impressive range of swears. When he got into the car, he slammed the passenger side door, then slammed it again for good measure.
Adam still stared. Something was telling him to follow those boys to their improbable car. Even though every rational cell in his brain thought it was a massively stupid idea, somehow he knew with unshakeable certainty that he would still do it – get into the improbable car and have pizza with these improbable strangers.
The quiet boy – Noah – nudged him very lightly. Adam, despite his better judgement, started walking, with Noah following one step behind.
“Don’t mind Ronan,” Noah said again, softly. Adam turned to look at him, wondering if he’d misheard.
“Beg pardon?”
“He’s all bark and no bite. And also he’s just mad because he’s been talking about you ever since you moved in and he wanted to make a better first impression than ‘arsonist baker’.”
Adam’s head was reeling. Ronan wanted to make a good first impression on him – or anybody? Ronan had been talking about him? He had noticed Adam?
“Yeah, most people do,” he replied, a little bewildered.
“Don’t let it put you off him though. He’s a great guy, really.” Noah smiled in a vague, wistful way, only to be replaced by a bright grin a moment later.
“Hope you like avocado on your pizza!”
Avocado.
Adam’s life had just taken a turn for the very, very strange. But somehow, he had a good feeling about it.