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Adam
Adam took a deep breath and watched people streaming through the sliding doors.
Attempting this on a Saturday morning had been a mistake. He knew that. But it was the only free time in his schedule, already packed with classes and work.
Fucking Ikea.
No, NO, he amended silently, Ikea was the easiest way he could get what he needed on his paltry earnings, and he should be grateful to be able to set up his new apartment.
He’d hated living in the dorm – the noise at all hours, the parties in the common area – so he’d jumped at the chance when he saw the flyer for a dirt-cheap studio rental within walking distance of campus. The Hondayota was going to give up the ghost any day now, and being close enough to get to campus on foot was ideal. He hoped he’d be able to cram a bed, a table, a chair, AND a bookcase into his tiny car.
The bookcase was an indulgence – he’d been stacking his books on the floor for years. And it had been a difficult decision -- he could either get a dresser or a bookcase, and in the end he decided that he could jury-rig a system of cardboard boxes under the bed for his clothes. His books took priority. This semester he’d actually bought all his textbooks, rather than rely on the ones on reserve in the library. He’d worked overtime over the break to be able to do that, and he was going to enjoy the absolute luxury of studying in bed with his own books this semester.
He could do this. He’d made a list the night before and knew exactly which pieces he was going to get, and had just enough money to cover them, along with a celebratory (if solitary) lunch of Swedish meatballs.
He took a breath, squared his shoulders, put his head down and walked into the heart of chaos.
Ronan
“You owe me SO BIG for this, maggot,” Ronan growled, pushing a giant cart that was slowly filling with kitchen wares, towels, sheets and an assortment of crap that Ronan hadn’t been paying terribly close attention to.
Blue glanced up from a display of baskets and rolled her eyes, “This is you returning the favor that you owe ME, remember? I don’t owe you shit.”
“This is not an equivalent favor! Ikea on a Saturday is like three favors,” he protested, picking up a white pillow with an abstract porcupine design on it, grimacing and tossing it back into a bin. “You picked up some fucking cold medicine for me. It took you ten minutes.”
Blue shrugged, “You have to define your favor parameters from the start, bro.”
Ronan huffed.
Blue threw her arms up, exasperated, “We are shopping for the women’s shelter, asshole! This is your good deed for the year, so zip your fucking lip and get on board.”
“Fine,” Ronan muttered, fighting back a smile. He didn’t actually mind the trip -– it was a prime opportunity to indulge in one of his favorite activities -- driving Blue so crazy that her voice rose an octave and a half. They weren’t in dog whistle territory yet, so he clearly needed to up the pain-in-the-ass quotient. He threw a stack of flannel sheets into the cart, “There. I’m helping.”
Blue muttered something indecipherable, but likely obscenity-laced, under her breath and Ronan swallowed a laugh. She’d forgive him. He planned on paying for everything rather than letting her use the petty cash she’d brought from the shelter’s meager reserves. He liked to drive her to the brink of physical violence, and then make her want to hug him. It amused him.
He was picturing this scene when he felt the shopping cart bump against something, and heard a stifled curse that was too low to be Blue. He stretched to peer over the pile of stuff in the cart and saw a guy kneeling next to a low shelf of shower curtains, rubbing his knee.
He looked up with annoyed blue eyes, and Ronan found that everything had suddenly gone quiet – the buzz of the shoppers around him was gone and all he could hear was his pulse.
Well, shit.
“Watch the fuck where you’re going,” the guy muttered, turning back to the shower curtains.
Ronan managed to shrug and approximate the tone of someone who could breathe normally, “Sorry, but if you’re going to sit in the aisle, you take your life in your hands. Welcome to fuckin’ Thunderdome.”
He was inordinately pleased to see the guy fighting back a smile, and figured he could keep pushing his luck, “You need your shopping partner to stand guard, man. Dick move for them to leave you on your own…”
He was fishing. He knew he was fishing. The cute guy probably knew he was fishing. He was fine with that.
The guy stood and gave him an assessing look that Ronan couldn’t quite read.
“You seem to be alone. Did you not tell your shopping partner about the whole ‘no man left behind’ Ikea ethos?”
Ronan grinned and pointed to Blue, only her lower half visible as she rooted through a huge bin of kitchen towels, “My shopping partner is hoping that I get crushed beneath a pile of affordable wool rugs. I think that’s why she brought me.”
Adam looked over and coughed awkwardly, “Oh, well, maybe you should go help your girlfriend before she falls in…” He turned and started to walk away, pushing his mini-cart that held a single pot and pan.
Fuck. There was no way to fix this without being extremely obvious.
Obvious it was, then.
“She’s not my girlfriend!” Ronan shouted at the guy’s back, causing several people near by to turn and stare.
Blue poked her head out of the bin, and raised an eyebrow at Ronan. Ronan caught her eye and gave what he hoped was a subtle nod at the guy who had stopped walking, and was standing stiffly in the middle of the crowded aisle, once again impeding traffic. A knowing grin broke across her face and she gave Ronan a thumbs up before diving back into the bin of towels.
Ronan could feel himself blushing. Fucking hell. He thought about stepping behind one of the displays of curtains and just hiding for awhile. Maybe until June.
The guy turned around and walked back over to Ronan, bumping their carts together lightly. He didn’t say anything, just held Ronan’s gaze for a second too long before looking into Ronan’s overstuffed cart. “So, is all this for you or your not-girlfriend?”
Ronan cleared his throat. OK, back on track. Kind of.
“Neither. Blue works at a women’s shelter, and we’re re-stocking their supplies.”
The guy’s eyebrows rose, and he looked Ronan up and down slowly. Ronan swallowed.
“That’s really nice of you to help. I don’t really get a do-gooder vibe off of you…”
Ronan huffed out a laugh, “Why, because I almost maimed you with a shopping cart?”
“No, because you look like a bouncer at a German EDM club.”
Ronan’s explosive “HA!” caused a new cross-section of shoppers to glance their way.
Ronan extended his hand, “Ronan.”
The guy’s hand was warm and dry, his fingertips lightly calloused.
“Adam.”
“Adam, would you like a shopping partner?” Ronan asked, smiling, “For safety? I think Blue can handle things for awhile.”
Adam smiled back, and Ronan knew that this was perhaps the most important trip he’d ever taken to an Ikea.
“I’d love that.”
Adam
Ronan pushed the big shopping cart over to his small friend, and they had a quick conversation under their breath that Adam couldn’t hear. It ended with the not-girlfriend –- Blue, Adam reminded himself -- giving Ronan a hard slap on the back, propelling him towards Adam.
Ronan turned and pointed at her, “Call me when you’re in line to check out.”
Blue’s grin turned softer, “I know you. Just give me your credit card now, and then you can enjoy the rest of your day without any… interference.”
Ronan huffed and handed his entire wallet to her, “Can’t you pretend to be surprised?”
Blue put her hands to her face in faux shock, “Ronan! You shouldn’t have!”
Ronan picked up a nearby pillow and walloped her in the head. She sputtered something that made a nearby parent cover their child’s ears, and Ronan laughed.
Blue once again shoved him towards Adam, “Go have fun… ‘shopping’…”
Adam could hear the quotation marks around the last word.
He liked her.
Maybe not as much as he liked Ronan, though.
When he’d felt the cart bump into him, he’d been at the end of his rope. Walking through the Ikea maze had driven home just how much stuff he actually needed, and which he hadn’t planned for at all. He couldn’t get by with just furniture. He needed sheets for the new bed. He needed some basic cookware for his tiny kitchenette. He needed a goddamned shower curtain. All those little things added up. He’d been saying goodbye to the Billy bookcase in his mind’s eye when he was nearly knocked over.
It was the last straw, and he’d looked up ready to take out his growing frustration on whomever the culprit was.
But the culprit was… wow.
He was the sort of handsome that was an actual physical shock to one’s system.
And then he’d been funny.
And he’d looked at Adam like… well, he wasn’t sure anyone had ever looked at him like that before.
And he’d gone out of his way to make sure Adam (and the rest of the store) knew he very much did not have a girlfriend, which must have been embarrassing, and which Adam found almost painfully adorable.
And now they were picking out a bed together, and Adam did not understand his life one bit.
“I’m getting this one,” Adam gestured to a simple frame as he wrote down the aisle and shelf where the boxed-up version could be picked up.
Ronan glanced at it, “That one? Hrmmm…”
Adam looked up from his list, “What’s wrong with it?”
Ronan shrugged. “It’s fine. Just kind of basic.”
Adam rolled his eyes, “Which one do you like – the one with the padded headboard and the built-in drawers underneath?”
Ronan shrugged again, “Actually I like the four-poster one. It looks like it would go in an old farmhouse.” He wandered over to look at the tag. “Unttervagist!” he called delightedly to Adam, sounding like a very masculine Swedish chef or a cheerful viking.
Adam laughed, letting go of his annoyance that Ronan thought nothing of suggesting one of the priciest beds. He looked down at the tag on his bed, “Nosenvik!”
“Unttervagist!!” Ronan gestured emphatically at the bed.
Adam shook his head, and whispered with dramatic intensity, “Nosenviiiiiiiiiik.”
Ronan threw his hands up, “Fine! Have it your way.” He sidled up to Adam and leaned in so he was whispering in his ear. “You know what they say about guys with big Nosenviks, right…?
Adam shoved him away, and Ronan fell on a nearby mattress, laughing.
“Hey, this is actually a good mattress. Come try it…” Ronan patted the spot next to him, grinning lasciviously up at Adam.
“You’re trying to get me in bed pretty damn quickly…” Adam muttered, but lay down next to Ronan, brushing their arms together.
“Sir, this is an Ikea, not a Raymour & Flanigan – we don’t abide that kind of thing here.”
Adam rolled on his side so he was facing Ronan. “Is Raymour & Flanigan a known den of iniquity?”
Ronan nodded solemnly, “Yep, famous perverts, Raymour and Flannigan.”
Adam tried to shove Ronan off the bed, but couldn’t quite get enough leverage.
“So, Not-Girlfriend really didn’t mind you ditching her to hang out with me?”
Ronan turned his head to look at Adam, his face suddenly very close. Adam’s breath hitched.
“Nah, she didn’t mind. I tend to drive her crazy just by…. existing,” he smiled and looked back up at the ceiling. “She inherited me when she started dating my best friend. We probably wouldn’t have become friends if not for him, but now I think it bugs him sometimes that she and I are really close.”
He looked back at Adam, “I mean, he’s not really bothered – he wants us to get along – but I think he’s surprised that we get along as well as we do, and he doesn’t always get our jokes, you know?”
Adam nodded, “Yeah, I get that.”
They looked at each other, and Adam felt time slow down. Ronan’s eyes dipped down to his mouth, and then back up to his eyes. Adam knew a signal when he saw one.
He leaned in and Ronan’s eyes fluttered shut.
He felt Ronan’s warm breath against his lips…
“MaaaaaaaMaaaaaa!”
Adam jerked back and Ronan opened his eyes looking dazed. The wailing began again, this time even louder. “MAAAAAAAAMAAAAAAA!!
“Sweet fucking Christ,” Ronan muttered, sitting up, “Where is that kid….?”
Adam blinked and shook himself, trying not to grab Ronan and drag him back onto the mattress, “The shrieking is coming from Textiles, I think.”
Ronan stood and offered Adam a hand, pulling him up. “I see her,” he gazed over Adam’s head, “None of these assholes are helping. She must have lost her mom.”
Adam watched as Ronan jogged over to the little girl, knelt down, and began speaking to her gently. She was clutching a stuffed tiger, and Ronan directed a greeting to it as well. This seemed to calm the girl, and she wiped at her eyes with one hand and grabbed Ronan’s hand with the other.
He stood up, looking around, “Hello? This belong to anyone?” his deep voice filled the space.
An Ikea employee finally emerged to come see to the commotion. Ronan nodded to her, “This is Emily. She lost her mom. Says the last spot she remembers seeing her is by the big plants.” Ronan knelt down next to the girl and spoke quietly to her. The girl nodded and took the store employee’s hand, waving to Ronan as she was lead off to find her wayward parent.
Adam took the hand that the girl had been holding and pulled Ronan closer, “That was very sweet.”
Ronan huffed, “It’s what anybody would do. You see a lost kid, you don’t just keep walking.”
“Plenty of people kept walking. You helped her.”
Ronan shrugged.
Adam pulled him closer, “You do that, don’t you? You help. You were helping Blue. Then you were helping me. Then you were helping that girl.”
Ronan made a dismissive sound, “If I’m being strictly honest, I wasn’t exactly interested in helping you…”
Adam smiled and lowered his voice, “Oh, yeah, what were you interested in?”
Ronan tilted his head, and brought his hands up to Adam’s face.
“This.”
Ronan’s lips brushed against his. The kiss was soft and fleeting, and Adam found himself leaning forward chasing Ronan’s lips as he pulled away, straightening up and looking around sheepishly.
Ronan cleared his throat, “Still in Ikea…”
Adam let out a soft laugh, “Did you think my kiss would transport you out of this hellscape?”
Ronan pulled Adam close and trailed his hand down to the small of Adam’s back, “How much more stuff do you need to get?”
Adam found it hard to remember exactly why he was there in the first place, his brain focusing all its attention on the warmth of Ronan’s hand. “Not much more. I just need to grab the stuff from the warehouse section.”
Ronan leaned forward and kissed Adam’s forehead, “Well, let’s get this shit done, and then meatballs are on me.”
Adam smiled at him, “You gave your wallet to Blue, remember?”
“Ahhh, fuck.”
Adam hooked his finger through one of Ronan’s belt loops. “Meatballs are on me. You’ve earned them.”
Ronan took the cart from Adam and steered them towards the warehouse, “Can we get those Swedish sandwich cookies too?”
Adam grinned, “Sure.”
“And that weird elderflower drink?”
Adam faked an exasperated sigh, “Yes, Ronan.”
“And then the ball pit?” he asked, his blue eyes twinkling.
Adam looked around the warehouse, “EXCUSE ME? DOES THIS BELONG TO SOMEONE?”
Ronan covered Adam’s mouth with his hand, laughing. Adam wrestled his way out from Ronan’s hold, and narrowly avoided knocking over a display table of orchids. He caught his breath and wrapped his arms around Ronan’s neck, “Keep it up and I’m dropping you off in the damaged goods section.”
“Cold. You’re really not good at the whole ‘leave no man behind’ thing, are you,” Ronan teased.
Adam looked around and saw that they were in a miraculously deserted aisle. It was clearly a sign from the Ikea gods.
“C’mere…” Adam pulled Ronan against him, this kiss longer and deeper than the first. As they sank into the kiss, Adam heard the distant sounds of couples fighting over sofa covers, children toppling cannisters of silverware, and squeaking shopping carts with busted wheels.
They finally had to pull apart to breathe. Adam rested his forehead against Ronan’s shoulder, amazed at how the day had gone.
Ronan’s voice was broken and breathless, and Adam laughed when he heard his words rumble against his ear.
“I fucking love Ikea.”