Chapter Text
Adam didn't want to be running a tutoring class for third graders in Henrietta's most prestigious elementary school. But it was the best paying position he could find on short notice, even though he was incredibly overqualified. He had a masters degree in applied electrical engineering. He was most of the way through a PhD thesis. And now, he had to deal with entitled, self-righteous parents.
“I’m sorry sir, but you can’t sign-out any of the students,” Adam repeated firmly. He stood in the doorway of the classroom where he had been tutoring third-graders in math, barring the frustrated stranger from entering.
“That’s fucking bullshit,” The man scowled darkly. He seemed to be about the same age as Adam in his mid-twenties, but he used his height and glare to try and intimidate Adam. His leather jacket stretched over crossed arms and every line of his body screamed ‘dangerous’. Adam's eyes traced the dark line of a tattoo curling over the collar of his leather jacket. He repeated his previous demand like Adam was simple, “I’m here to take Matty home.”
Adam had worked enough customer service in his undergrad to keep his frustration behind an impenetrable mask, even in the face of an angry man who raised all of Adam’s red flags. Adam had been working this tutoring job since the beginning of October three weeks prior and he had met each of the student’s guardians at least once. He had never seen this man before.
Most of the students had at least two adults listed as approved guardians who were allowed to pick up the students from the after-school group. Adam had met absent-minded grandparents, doting nannies, brusque fathers and everyone in between. But one kid - Matthew Lynch - only had a single name written next to his own: Declan Lynch.
Adam had spoken to Mr. Lynch briefly every day after the program when he would arrive in a different designer suit and stoically wait for Matthew to cheerfully collect his messy homework. He always patiently listened to Matthew’s aimless chatter and would periodically ask Adam about Matthew’s progress. Mr. Lynch and this impatient man in front of Adam could not be more dissimilar.
So far the conversation was just going in circles, but Adam tried one last time before he called the school’s ancient security guard. He said, sharply, “Sir, only the people on the approved list can sign-out a student from the program.”
The man started to tell Adam where he could shove the list when they were both interrupted by Matthew bounding up behind Adam and happily exclaiming, “Ronan! You’re here!”
The man’s expression lightened a bit when Matthew poked his blond head out the door around Adam. He said gruffly, “Hey bud, I thought we could surprise Dec together. Go get your shoes and shit.”
“Okay!”
And before Adam could protest, Matthew had rushed back into the classroom, calling out goodbyes to his friends.
Adam realized, from just this exchange, that Matthew recognized the man in front of him. But he also understood, maybe more than most people, that a child knowing someone did not guarantee that child’s safety. Adam didn't usually work in child-care - he had only gotten this job based on a recommendation from Calla - but his training had included an emphasis on child safety and some previously asleep part of Adam had woken up at the responsibility for a child’s well-being. He knew that the adults on the list weren’t any more or less likely to be safe for his students, but he would rather not send a student away with someone that was completely untraceable.
“Look,” Adam maintained his professional mask with some effort, “I can’t let kids go home with just anyone. I know this is inconvenient, but this isn’t the first time this has happened. There is a simple solution - you can get Mr. Lynch to add you to the approved list and in the future there won’t be a delay. But today I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“You shouldn’t follow rules just because they exist,” the man - Ronan - scowled. He didn’t look like he was going anywhere.
Adam bristled at this, but said frostily before Matthew could return, “I’m following this rule for Matthew’s safety.”
Ronan paused and considered Adam. This abrupt change in demeanor cleared his sharp, dangerous features into something a bit handsome. Then he said in a calm, gruff tone, “So Dec can get me added to the list?”
“Pardon?”
Ronan sighed and snapped, “‘Mr. Lynch’, you know? Declan? Jesus would you just -”
“Yes.” Adam cut him off, “Only the child’s guardian can update it.”
“Fine,” and then Ronan was leaving, combat boots a thudding echo in the empty hallways.
Adam watched him go, mostly to make sure that he didn’t do anything else sudden.
Matthew didn’t return until the man was out of sight. The eight-year-old had his backpack over one tiny shoulder and his coat bundled up in his arms. His blue eyes stared up at Adam in wide confusion, “Where’d Ronan go?”
Adam admitted, “I’m not sure. But why don’t you go back inside and we’ll help Angelica with her worksheet?”
Matthew let out a loud, childish groan, but returned obediently to the classroom.
Enough time passed that Adam’s guard slowly lowered. He didn’t expect the mysterious Ronan to come back, so he returned to the small group of students left in the classroom to make sure that they were all making progress. He kept an eye on the door and two more students were picked up - thankfully with little fanfare - before he heard the sharp knock on the door frame that had preceded Ronan’s first appearance.
Adam stood quickly and approached the door. Ronan stood in the doorway again, still looking dangerous but this time he was smirking sharply at a second man standing next to him - Declan Lynch.
“Hello,” Adam greeted cautiously and watched them both with assessing eyes. Mr. Lynch looked just as unassuming as Adam had become used to; he was just another young business man in a fitted suit with a large, tasteful watch. The school was prestigious, so the few fathers who picked up their kids instead of sending nannies were dressed in similar expensive business attire as though they were coming from the office and intended to return immediately. Ronan’s unexpected leather-jacket-ripped-jeans and dangerous glare had actually been what raised Adam's suspicion when he had first appeared.
But where Mr. Lynch was usually politely impassive, only bestowing small smiles on Matthew, he was currently biting back an angry scowl. He still replied politely. “Good evening, Mr. Parrish. Is Matthew ready to go?”
Adam glanced at Ronan and the man bared a victorious grin back, all sharp teeth and glittering blue eyes.
Seeing the two men standing together, Adam could see, now, that they looked similar in that way only genetic family could, but their dissimilarities - in clothes, bearing, and words - were what convinced Adam that they were brothers who had consciously attempted to define themselves in opposition to the other.
Adam said, “I’ll go let him know to pack up.” And then he turned back into the classroom. He could hear the two brothers bicker in the doorway even as he tried to catch Matthew’s attention.
“- was going to pick him up in half an hour. Why are you so impatient, Ronan - “
“We could be havin’ dinner by now, but you’re the one who forgot to add me to their stupid list - “
“I didn’t know that you would be in town yet -”
“As if that’s the only fucking reason you didn’t - “
“Don’t swear, we’re in a school -”
Matthew perked up at the sight of the two of them and shouted across the room, “What’s for dinner?”
Ronan’s hostile tone lightened as he shouted back, “Whatever you want, bud!”
Mr. Lynch muttered something about manners, but Matthew was busy scooping up his jacket again and rushing over to the two of them. He was chattering excitedly about his school day, “- and then at recess -”
Mr. Lynch had spackled over his expression with his usual polite impassiveness, “Put on your coat, Matthew. It’s cold outside.”
Matthew didn’t stop talking, but obligingly dropped his backpack and started struggling to get his coat on. Ronan knelt down next to him and helped him hold his coat as the little boy wiggled his arms through the sleeves, “-and then in art class we made these little animals out of plasticine or something. Can I show you?”
“When we get home, bud,” Ronan replied with a gentleness that surprised Adam.
Mr. Lynch half-turned away from the two of them towards Adam with a detached sort of charm, “I apologize for my brother’s behaviour, Mr. Parrish. ”
In this job, Adam had quickly become used to this sort of money-soaked apology that asked Adam to ignore any offence done to him. He didn’t particularly like the treatment, but he also wasn’t paid to like the parents of the children that he tutored, so Adam had gotten used to brushing it off.
Despite Mr. Lynch’s attempts at privacy, Ronan had clearly heard his brother and injected sharply, “Why don’t you slip him some bills to really shut him up, Deklo?”
“Don’t be gouache, Ronan,” Mr. Lynch replied sharply.
Adam frostily ignored Ronan and murmured, “No apology necessary.”
“Hey,” Matthew, still beautifully ignorant of the tension between the three adults, tugged at Ronan’s sleeve. When he had the man’s attention he raised his arms up with an exaggerated pout.
Ronan obligingly leaned over and hoisted him up in a piggy-back, “Up you go!”
Mr. Lynch’s expression became, if possible, more flat, “He’s too old to be carried, Ronan.”
“Never too old,” Ronan easily held the eight-year-old even as small arms wrapped around his neck and challenged his brother, “Just watch me, I could still pick you up.”
Mr. Lynch ignored his brother and said evenly, “Have a good evening, Mr. Parrish.”
Adam nodded slightly and said to his student, “See you tomorrow Matthew.”
“Bye-bye, Mr. Parrish!” Matthew replied from behind Ronan’s shoulder, his smile wide.
The three of them headed down the hall and Ronan shot Adam a dangerous smile with a sardonic, “Later, Parrish.”
Adam just raised one eyebrow and tipped his head in a slight nod. He still had five kids to look after and review geometry work from. He didn’t have time to parse that parting shot.
Blue shared a cramped one bedroom apartment on the east side of Henrietta with Adam. It was a sublet from an eccentric older woman who seemed to be some sort of spiritual-tourist-cum-life-coach based on the patchwork of decorations that seemed to be from every religion across the globe that were scattered around the place. Blue was not particularly thrilled at the casually irreverent collection, but whatever ‘spiritual journey’ this woman was on had called her abroad and so Blue could afford the place dirt cheap. She appreciated the low rent because she was saving up for her own travel plans.
Blue didn’t mind the cramped space (possibly because she had been the one to get the bedroom). Both her family and Gansey had homes in Henrietta, so her only necessities for the apartment hunt were a place where she could sleep and cheap rent. She was old enough, now, that she didn’t want to crash in her childhood bedroom (which she was pretty sure Calla had turned into an aerial acrobatics studio anyway) and she wasn’t quite ready to give in to Gansey’s impulse to nest and move in together.
This apartment had been available on short notice, but really wasn’t ideal. Since it was a single bedroom unit, Blue had semi-successfully partitioned off one end of the living room as a bedroom for Adam - there was only room for a lumpy futon and a wobbly dresser for him. So the apartment wasn’t really meant for two people, but Blue had stubbornly made it work. Besides, she had lived with far more people with far worse habits than Adam Parrish in the effort to save enough money for her next adventure.
That was not to say that Adam didn’t have bad habits, but most of them were familiar to Blue at this point in their friendship. She had spent the better part of senior year trying to pin down his neuroses, and then when he went away to university, she gained enough distance to see the pattern play out - under every circumstance Adam would work himself to dust in some feverish desire to achieve some undefined security. Adam would commit himself fully to any goal that he set his sights on until he either burnt out or attained his goal only to immediately set one even higher.
Blue had only ever known Adam to truly burn out once - this past summer after his second year of his PhD. Based on his complete ignorance to self-care, Blue assumed that the well-oiled academic machine known as “Adam Parrish, accomplished PhD candidate” had broken down many times, but that he had just been better at hiding it from her before. She had only been allowed to discover the depths that Adam had sunk to when she surprised him with a visit shortly after the previous semester had ended. She had found him burning the candle at both ends, taking on too many jobs even as his research eclipsed his attention and enduring sleepless nights from the stress of being only one year out from defending his final dissertation. He had lost weight and had perpetual dark circles under his eyes. His condition scared her and she could tell in the way he would deflect her questions that he wasn’t letting her see the worst of it.
Blue had barely managed to convince him that he should come back with her to Henrietta. She had told him that she wanted to stay near her family while she saved up for her next trip, but needed someone to split the rent with. He had quietly agreed. She had fully expected him to walk back his commitment since she had never succeeded before, but apparently he had instead turned helping her save up into his new project. He had looked up the paperwork for academic deferral the next day. She had helped him pack up his few belongings from his tiny flat near the university and drive down to Henrietta. Over the summer he had found a couple jobs and actually seemed to be sleeping again.
But recently Adam was falling back into his bad habits again so fast that it was almost a parody. He had just returned home from his tutoring position, shot her a quick ‘hey’, and barely took the time to shove down a granola bar before cracking open his laptop to work on freelance articles that he had added to his ever growing list of jobs.
Blue rolled her eyes at his weak greeting and dropped into the other chair at the tiny kitchen table across from Adam. She shoved her foot against his shin to get his attention, “Hey, I’m ordering chinese in for dinner. What do you want?”
Adam just kept frowning down at his laptop screen, “I’m not hungry. The nearest place is overpriced anyway.”
The unspoken judgement about saving money grated against Blue because she had been offering for his own good. To try and make sure that he actually ate something before he got too focused on writing. But if she told him that her offer had been motivated by care for him, Blue knew that he would stubbornly refuse to eat anything she bought for the next week. So she said, “Fine, I’ll just order extra szechuan beef, and our mysterious ghost roommate can eat it tonight.”
Adam gave her a weak glare over the lid of his laptop.
Blue grinned mockingly back and shoved her foot against his shin again because she had caught him eating leftovers at midnight twice last week. She had delighted in his embarrassment at being caught in the dark, hunched over the glow of the fridge.
“Stop kicking me,” Adam grumbled and caught her foot between his knees.
Blue just let him have this win as she added an extra side of eggrolls to the order on her phone. She asked, “So you’ll have Thanksgiving off, right?”
“That’s over a month away.”
Blue knew that if she didn’t get Adam to commit now, he would probably find some way to work and get paid holiday time while Gansey tried to not mope at his absence, “Yeah, but I think Gansey has already started trying to source a turkey. We’re going to need all hands on deck to take that thing down.”
“I thought you were on his case about celebrating holidays with excess,” Adam replied.
Blue recognized the stubborn creature Adam would become when he wanted to get a rise out of her. She didn’t want to let him know that it was working, so she just propped her other foot up on his lap and said, “Henry insisted that there should be a bird at his ‘second thanksgiving’.”
Adam nodded, “Thanksgiving: revenge of the turkey.”
“Thanksgiving two: electric boogaloo.”
Adam hid a small smirk behind his laptop, but Blue noticed it anyway. He asked, “So Henry is coming down for that weekend?”
“The whole week,” Blue said, “His flight gets in on the Monday. Mom’s going to give me Persephone’s pumpkin pie recipe.”
Adam paused and looked down at where his hands rested against the keyboard, but his voice was even when he said, “Ok- Ok, I’ll come. But not for the market. I’ll help Gansey with dinner.”
“He’s going to need it,” Blue muttered and put her fingers up in scare quotes, “He’s so determined to ‘have an authentic dinner’ and ‘not go the catered route’.”
Adam shrugged, “I’ve never cooked a turkey before, so you should probably have a back-up plan.”
"Don't worry, I have KFC on speed dial."