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it starts with gansey because everything starts there.
it starts when he pulls adam into their circle by way of a broken down car and the understanding in adam's face when gansey starts on with his glendower preaching. ronan used to have that face. (who is he kidding, he still does.)
so it starts with gansey bringing adam home and ronan's already been thinking things about boys and not-girls and that maybe that thrum in his chest when he races kavinsky isn't so much to do with the fast cars but with the slope of kavinsky's shoulder and the way ronan's name drips from his mouth.
but adam's the opposite of kavinsky in more ways than ronan wants to stop and think about. he's hard and vulnerable and so fucking strong and when he looks at ronan that first time like he's not sure how to act around him, ronan's respect surges. he watches and he listens and he fucking falls.
it starts with wanting to bruise adam’s mouth with his own, wants to drop to his knees and make adam scrabble for purpose on the door behind him, secrets from gansey and noah forming in the way adam’s knees tremble and his palms sweat from ronan’s mouth on his dick. it starts with lust and lust is easy. lust is tangible but easily controlled.
more than that comes later. it comes around the time things start heating up with glendower and gansey and blue’s appearance. blue who holds hands with adam, turns him to a bigger mess than he already can handle. blue who doesn’t drop eye contact with ronan, not once, not ever. blue who stares at gansey like he hung the sun and she hates him for it. everything fucking changes and somewhere in the middle of it ronan moves behind the scenes, takes care of adam’s money, listens to adam saying huge things about cabeswater and trusts him to make the right decision no matter how dangerous it is. he trusts adam in a way the others don't, not really.
the end of blueandadam and the end of kavinsky collide. there are other things to think about but ronan has a lot of room in his brain, he can focus on the change in adam’s stance, the confidence and fear that battle inside of him, and on the bastard who killed his dad who maybe isn't as awful as ronan needs him to be.
ronan is in the mindset that this thing he has for adam parrish is a secret that will never make it out of his head. it’s something for himself, no one else needs to know.
flash forward a couple of months. blue is still around, still stuck in this dance with gansey that makes ronan want to puke. noah is still dead, still so goddamn annoying. adam is -- well, right now, adam is sprawled on ronan’s bed and kissing him. ronan’s still not really sure how this came about, considering yesterday they had an argument about magic and adam’s recklessness and ronan’s hypocrisy and they hadn’t really left things on the best of terms.
but now adam is kissing him and it feels fucking great. he’s fast and eager and fuck he knows what he’s doing and it's a cliche, it's such a fucking cliche, to say that this is like something out of his dreams, but that's what their lives are now, dreams come to life and kings and fucking magic.
(anyway, the adam in his dreams isn't like this. doesn't let ronan get close enough to touch him, to talk to him, only stands from afar, voice scathing and mouth sharp enough to rival ronan's. )
this adam, the real adam, his mouth is warm and wet on ronan's, his lips chapped and his tongue sliding into ronan's mouth. it's dirty and feels a little like cheating, but ronan doesn't know who they're betraying, aside from god and maybe gansey and who says they're not the same thing, really.
("i've known for a while," adam had said when he had knocked on ronan's door and slipped inside. "about you... and about me."
ronan had known he had been obvious, what with the rent and the way he always gave into adam's whims, the way they all did these days. he had been so fucking obvious and yet he had been clinging to the thought that maybe adam hadn't noticed.
(it had been the first and only time he had underestimated adam parrish.)
"you don't sound sure about that, parrish," he had said, and then who had marched into his mind but fucking kavinsky, the motherfucker always sure of everything he ever did. he had pushed him aside violently, unwilling to let him taint this, the way he seemed to taint everything. "you want to elaborate?"
and adam had tried, fumbling over glances and money, and then ronan had tilted his head, all faux hesitation like he hasn't been wanting this for months and months, come on, everyone knows it now. and adam had joined him on the bed, leaning back on his elbows looking like he belonged and yet was somehow out of place, out of his depth.)
they're here now. kissing. lips sliding against one another's, slipping to jaws and necks, tasting. it feels fast and quick, adam's hands skittering nervously across ronan's abdomen, up to his chest and back again, but if ronan turns his mind back to cliches and metaphors again, he finds time moving slowly, everything intensified as he kisses adam.
adam pulls back a little, eyes darting down to where their thighs are pressed together, their hips nudging, the constant awareness of the other's presence. they're real. both of them.
"you okay?" ronan murmurs, wanting to press his lips to the curve of adam's collarbone but not sure if this is continuing, adam's moment of assertion over.
"m'fine," and fuck, he drawls that word out so long and that fucking accent has always been a thing for ronan, something to make him feel that bit more unsteady when he had already been teetering near the edge.
this kiss is deeper, slicker, the intention of moving somewhere clear when ronan shifts to fall back into the bed, adam following. their legs swing up, tangling quickly. ronan's thigh slots between both of adam's and when he nudges it upwards, a long slow drag, the sound adam makes pulls a moan from his own throat. his left hand fists in adam's hair, his right jerking at the hem of his t-shirt, half wishing they were in a dream trapped in his head if only so he could think the clothes away and they would be gone.
ronan’s fingers are pressing at adam’s waist, the skin warm, and when he pushes just a little adam’s breath hitches and he holds tighter. this is what he’s been wanting, fuck kavinsky, fuck everyone. right now adam is solid and strong and easy above him, his body flush with ronan’s and fuck.
there’s a whisper of something in his ear where adam is smudging kisses along to his jaw, down to his neck. a whisper of a secret and a confession -- i want you. ronan’s head spins, he feels so weak, reduced to flesh and skin and bone. there’s nothing otherworldly about the way their bodies move together, the fit of their hips, their chest, but ronan finds himself thinking of magic and ley lines and what’s the use of a king and his wishes when everything you want is right here.
i want you
but the kiss is slowing down, lips moving apart then back together once twice before adam is lifting his head, pulling away from his words. he looks down at ronan, looking every inch the danger the cards say he is with his t-shirt gaping at the neck and his lips red and full.
“can we stop here?” adam mumbles, mouth breaking into a tentative smile when ronan swears. “for just now?”
“whatever you want, parrish,” ronan says, head falling back to his pillow. he twists his neck to find chainsaw, catching her over by the window, her head cocked as she watches ronan get so close to another human with no blood spilling. they’ll both get used to that. “you okay?” he asks again because he has to be sure, he doesn’t want this halfway -- in or out, that’s his deal.
“give me a minute.” adam’s hand falls to rest on ronan’s chest. his finger taps along to his collarbone, swooping along to ronan’s neck. there’s so much trust here ronan doesn’t know what to do with it. he stays still. closes his eyes. “i can’t believe this.”
“you sacrificed yourself to a goddamn forest and this is what you can’t get your head around?” ronan asks, keeps his voice low. chainsaw croaks a sound of agreement.
adam shakes his head, smiles a little again, more from him than ronan can remember seeing in the last few months. “i think i always sort of knew about you. not me, just that it wasn’t girls...” he trails off, thinking, and ronan drops his eyes to watch the way his fingers trip across to ronan’s shoulder, the callouses of his hand rough on his skin. “you never looked at them. i think you were looking at me.”
“once gansey told me not to scare you away, i always was looking at you.”
adam makes a noise close to a laugh, almost a groan. “gansey. of course.”
“it’s always gansey,” ronan points out, knowing adam already knows this. “haven’t you worked that out yet, parrish?”
“this doesn’t have anything to do with him.”
“and what does it have to do with?”
“you and me, lynch. however this falls, whatever fuck-ups happen, however great it will be, this is you and me.”
it’s quiet in ronan’s room. the sun bleeds through the blinds, casting an orange hue across adam’s face. ronan bends his leg so his foot is flat on the bed, nudging adam’s body closer to him. he meets adam’s eyes, feels the power in his hands, the power that matches ronan’s. “you and me, parrish.”
when adam ducks his head to kiss him again ronan meets him halfway, hand curving at the base of his neck. it’s safe and it’s dangerous and it’s magic but it's real, every little bit of it.