Work Text:
Winter was a funny thing, what with the aching cold and the need to be indoors. Pretty snow, pretty cold.
Cold, cold, cold was all Adam Parrish could think as he pulled up in front of the farmhouse.
He pressed an icy palm to the icy door knob, anticipation warming his icy brain.
Inside was a bustling sort of warmth. He could hear Ronan busying himself in the kitchen, a tornado-like clattering of metal utensils and footsteps on linoleum. Adam stepped through the foyer and toed off his shoes, hung his coat, then placed his winter gloves in his coat pockets.
He stepped through the living area and into the kitchen, here he found smells of garlic and rosemary. Here he found home.
“Welcome back, Parrish” Ronan said, chopping tomatoes and cucumbers into a salad. “I take it you’re hungry--“ he was cut off, because now Adam was clinging to his waist from behind.
“Missed you” Adam whispered, not like a secret.
“Glad you did,” Ronan managed. “Does your shitbox still have a broken heater? Your hands are freezing.”
Adam took a deep breath,
Home home home.
“Yeah.”
*
Dinner was good. He was so full, in fact, that lying on the couch was all he could think to do afterwards.
The fireplace was warm. Ronan’s head, currently resting on his chest, was warm. Adam felt warm. Fuzzy, happy, elated.
Warm.
“And then, after I walked towards the rose bush in the back garden, they turned green. Not like, fucked up green. pale green. I reached for one and pulled it out of the dream. It’s pretty, and it smells nice.” Ronan was describing a dream he had while Adam was away. His dreams were terrifying half the time, but occasionally, they sounded sort of lovely. Pleasant images he wouldn’t have thought of himself. Something not meant for the imagination of Adam Parrish.
Adam wanted to ask a question he knew the answer to. Adam wanted to ask because he was curious for more, curious or greedy. All under the same subheading.
“Do you ever dream of me? ” Adam whispered to the ceiling.
It was quiet, for a moment, but not uncomfortably so. Not unbearable. Just expectant.
“Yes,” Ronan said, because he wasn’t a liar. “Sometimes I do.”
“What am I like in your dreams?” Adam persisted.
“You’re you, but different. Depending on whether it’s a nightmare or a dream. It’s all mind-fuckery. It’s also, sometimes, nice. I’ve had nightmares with you in them. I’ve had good dreams with you in them.” Ronan continued, “You aren’t really like yourself, though. You’re dream you, doing whatever the dream calls for.”
Adam was lazily drawing small circles into the small of Ronan’s back, as he said “give me a for instance. One of the good dreams.”
“Well, that’s just fucking embarrassing, Parrish.” but he went on to say, “I’ll give you.. one. But that’s it. And you aren’t allowed to laugh, because that’d be shitty.”
“I promise not to be shitty.” Adam said, though he audibly smiled.
“I mean, there are a few. I’m gonna pick one that’s not so fucked up.” He went on to describe his dream, voice hesitant, he began. “It was sometime while you were at work, or school, or something.
“I fell asleep upstairs. I think I was fixing one of the window latches, and I fell asleep right after.” He took a moment to think, “when the dream started I was outside somewhere, by a lake. I saw a pavilion. A big, wooden pavilion with benches along its sides. I was stepping into the pavilion, I don’t know why, it just felt right to do. Dreams are weird like that. I’m not sure why I do half the shit I do in them, when they’re vague.
“You were there, laying on one of the benches, reading. You looked like you do when you’re studying or thinking or focusing, fucking pretty or whatever. You were reading and then you weren’t, because you were looking right at me and smiling. It was nice. It felt right. You sat up, and I sat next to you. We kissed, and kissed some more, and then you asked me if I was tired. I said I wasn’t, and you said I wasn’t being truthful - because I looked tired. I told you to fuck off, but you laid my head down on your lap anyway.” Ronan sighed, eyes closed tight. “That’s it, that was the dream. I brought back the book after, for whatever reason, but it’s blank. It’s on the bookshelf upstairs.”
“Ronan...” Adam languished. He held Ronan tighter, closer, and whispered “Thank you.”