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2015-04-07
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burning all the bridges

Summary:

“Are you high?”

He doesn’t mean it literally, he means it like he hears the other Aglionby boys say to their friends, as a placeholder for what the fuck is wrong with you, but Ronan simply turns over onto his stomach, stretching himself out across Gansey’s bed, one corner of his mouth lifting, followed by a matching eyebrow. Not the answer Adam is expecting.

Notes:

TW: marijuana use, sexual content under the slight influence

Work Text:

--

As Adam pulls up to Monmouth Manufacturing, the smell of french fries has overwhelmed the hondoyota. His stomach is growling. His dinner had been a small peanut butter and jelly sandwich, nothing special. The fries smell special.

Before he gets out of the car, he sticks his hand into the bag and pulls a few from under the greasy burger dripping with ketchup. He licks the salt from his fingers and hopes Ronan won’t notice that almost half of them are gone now. However, if the sound of Ronan’s voice on the phone a few minutes ago was any indication, he probably won’t.

He’d called just as Adam got off of work, begging Adam to swing buy the local fast food place and pick him up something, promising to pay Adam back as soon as he got to Monmouth. I’m not your delivery service, Adam had snapped in his head. But he didn’t snap out loud. Something about Ronan’s voice kept his anger in his throat and not on his tongue. It was softer than normal, lighter somehow. It sounded like he was smiling when he asked, almost laughing when he’d drawn out the word “please” four times longer than he needed to.

“Why can’t you do it?” Adam asked.

“I’m not- I’m not in a driving state,” Ronan answered.

There was a long pause as Adam thought about what this meant. He was about to go pick up food for a drunk Ronan Lynch and then deliver it on command. He was going to have to interact with a drunk Ronan Lynch, which was always… unpredictable. Not always bad, but always unpredictable.

“What do you want?” Adam sighed.

Fast forward to now, Adam wiggling the door handle to Monmouth with one hand and balancing the bag of food and a soft drink in the other.

Just as the soft drink starts to teeter in his hand and he thinks he’s going to drop everything, the door swings open.

Ronan is standing in the doorway, smiling. Like, big time smiling. Adam almost can’t believe that Ronan’s mouth can do that without being sarcastic. Or angry. But he is, Ronan Lynch is standing in front of Adam wearing a huge smile. What he is not wearing is a shirt.

Before Adam’s mouth can even fall open in shock, Ronan beckons him in with wave, turns, and walks back to his room. Adam doesn’t know if this means he is supposed to go to Ronan’s room too, but he follows hesitantly, stopping in Ronan’s doorway.

Ronan has walked over to his dresser and is now rummaging through one of the drawers for something. The muscles in his back are hypnotic, moving and pulling around the pattern of his tattoo like a maze that Adam would like to spend the rest of the night finding his way out of.  He tries to pull his gaze from Ronan’s profile, but he can’t seem to look away from the muscles in Ronan’s sides and arms as they snake and twist while he pulls a soft grey t-shirt on over his head. Adam has now spent a good minute just watching Ronan’s body. That’s new.

Well, maybe not entirely new. Over the past few weeks, Adam has caught himself watching Ronan, observing him more than normal. More than normal meaning all the time. He catches himself doing it in class, while they’re studying for Latin, in the passenger seat of the BMW.

Gansey has also caught him, and while Adam hates the word Gansey uses to describe his behavior, he can’t deny the truth of it. He’s fascinated.  He’s fascinated by the sharp line of Ronan’s jaw, the quick flick of his wrists when he turns his car at the last second, the long almost delicate nature of his fingers, the soft curve of his lower back.

Gansey has said many times now that Adam shouldn’t be ashamed, he’s just returning the favor. Ronan has apparently always been fascinated by him. This was new information to Adam at first, and he wondered if Gansey was trying to play matchmaker without there being any reciprocation. It would be convenient, his two best friends together.

But then Adam had started to notice things. He started to notice the way Ronan would stretch out in the back seat of the Pig, thinking he was just being obnoxious at first and then feeling the warm heat from Ronan’s thigh pressed against his. He noticed how he passed Adam in the hallways, always moving closer to him in the sea of bodies, some parts of their bodies brushing, a small smirk playing on the edges of his lips. He definitely noticed Ronan’s continued overnight existence in his apartment, claiming he was too tired to drive the 5 minute drive back to Monmouth.

All of the fascination and noticing and feeling has led to a now somewhat charged existence between the two of them. Things always feel like they could snap at any moment. Maybe Adam wants them to.

He doesn’t have time to really dissect his last thought because Ronan is turning and Adam has to tear his gaze away from his torso before he gets caught. Unfortunately, he is not quick enough. Ronan’s smile widens in a different way. He looks more like Ronan now, like he’s caught on to something no one else knows.

Adam is frozen in embarrassment in the doorway and Ronan keeps coming closer and closer. He stops right in front of Adam, snatching the food from his hands. He’s only a few inches taller, but Adam feels like he’s shrunk. He feels like Ronan could swallow him whole. He feels like he kind of wants him to.

Ronan opens his mouth, but instead of swallowing Adam, he says thank you.

“You’re the best, Parrish.”

He purrs the words into the space between their faces and Adam tries hard not to gulp.

After a moment, Ronan just smiles that sharp, knowing smile again and walks towards the bed in the center of the room. Adam watches, still half-frozen as Ronan throws himself onto the bed and reaches into the bag, rummaging until he finds the burger. He unwraps it like an animal and eats it like an animal. Literally. Adam is surprised by how voracious his hunger is as he watches Ronan devour it in less than two minutes. His mouth is hanging open slightly by the time he’s done, but Ronan just balls up the wrapper in his fist and flops backwards onto the bed so that he’s laying horizontally across it, his head and legs hanging off either side. He burps once loudly and then turns to Adam.

“I’m still hungry,” he whines. Adam has no idea what to make of his behavior. Has Ronan finally drank himself backwards? Is he 5 years old again?

“There are fries in the bag too,” Adam says, his voice coming out more tentative then he would have liked it to.

Ronan cocks his head to the side and looks at the bag. He considers something, looking between the bag and Adam, a blush rising in Adam’s cheeks under Ronan’s gaze. He seems to come to a decision, crossing his arms across his chest and looking at Adam, still upside-down.

“Feed them to me.”

“What?” Adam blanches.

Feed them to me,” he repeats, his arms falling from his chest towards the floor. It’s a challenge, but it’s a challenge coming from a five-year old. Not super intimidating. More ridiculous than anything. Adam scoffs.

“Are you high?”

He doesn’t mean it literally, he means it like he hears the other Aglionby boys say to their friends, as a placeholder for what the fuck is wrong with you, but Ronan simply turns over onto his stomach, stretching himself out across Gansey’s bed, one corner of his mouth lifting, followed by a matching eyebrow. Not the answer Adam is expecting.

“Oh my god,” Adam says, “you are high.”

In response, Ronan just laughs. No explanations, no apologies, just laughter. It’s high, clear, easy laughter. Genuinely happy laughter. It’s the kind of laughter that Adam always wants to hear coming out of Ronan’s mouth.

“Wanna join me?” he asks.

Before Adam can answer, Ronan nods to himself, gets up off of the bed and walks towards Gansey’s desk. He opens a drawer and removes a small orange pill bottle, a purple glass thing and a black lighter, piling all of them in the middle of Gansey’s bed as he sits, looking back up at Adam.

“Seriously?” Adam asks incredulously.

“Yeah,” Ronan answer, nodding slowly. “It’s fun, I promise.”

Adam takes a step closer as Ronan opens the pill bottle and starts to break apart the green plant, quickly moving it over to the opening in the purple glass thing.

“What is that?”

“Weed?”

“No,” Adam says, shaking his head, “the purple thing.”

“Oh!” Ronan sighs between soft laughter, “It’s called a bowl. It’s what you smoke out of.”

Adam takes another step closer. He has to admit, he’s intrigued. Drinking has never really been his thing, but maybe this could be. Maybe it could be his thing just this once. Truthfully, he wants to join Ronan in whatever fantasyland he’s caught up in. It does look fun. There’s only one thing stopping him.

“Isn’t it expensive?”

“Weed?” Ronan asks again. Adam nods. “Not really. Kind of. I don’t really know what expensive is to you, but if it makes you feel any better, this isn’t mine.”

“What do you mean it isn’t yours? Did you steal it?” Adam says, taking another step closer, studying it. Is stolen weed better than bought weed? Adam knows nothing about anything.

“No, Jesus. It’s Noah’s. He owes me from the last time I smoked him up.”

The words come out of Ronan’s mouth but Adam stops listening after Noah is mentioned.

“It’s Noah’s weed?”

“Yeah.”

Noah smokes weed?”

“Yeah,”

Noah? Like, our Noah?”

“Yeah,” Ronan says for the third time, finally looking up at Adam with a half-smile, obviously amused at Adam’s confusion. “Why do you think he likes glitter so much?”

“Oh my god,” Adam breathes, starting to pace. This is too much new information. “He wanted that snow globe I bought him last week because he likes to play with it while he’s high, doesn’t he?”

“Yep,” Ronan answers, popping the “p” so hard that Adam looks back at him. He’s laughing silently, his head held in his hands, staring at Adam.

So, not only does Ronan smoke weed, but so does his ghost best friend. They smoke weed together.

“Does Gansey know you guys do this? Does Blue?” Adam asks, really pacing now, only stopping to see Ronan’s answer.

Ronan arches his eyebrow higher, laughing louder when Adam understands.

“Oh my god!” Adam almost shouts. “Am I the only one who hasn’t smoked weed?”

Ronan has fallen over on Gansey’s bed and he’s nodding his head like crazy, his body shaking with laughter and tears collecting in the corners of his eyes.

Apparently, Adam’s friends are a lot better at keeping secrets than he thought they were.

That’s the last piece of information he needs before he makes up his mind.

He stops pacing, takes a deep breath and sits with finality on the other end of Gansey’s bed. This makes Ronan stop laughing. He sits up, wiping a stray tear from his cheek and raising his eyebrows again, this time questioning. Adam raises his right back.

Ronan smiles. It’s dangerous and inviting. Adam scoots closer.

“You sure?” he asks, his voice closer to normal now. It’s more challenge and knife’s edge than anything. It sends something through him, right under his skin. He can feel a blush blooming across his collarbone and he hates how easily Ronan can manipulate his body even when they’re not touching. He doesn’t think he’s ever done something like that to Ronan, but tonight feels different. Tonight feels like a night of firsts.

“Come on, Lynch,” he replies. “Teach me.”

He almost whispers the last part, leaning a few inches closer, trying to get his smile to match Ronan’s. You are not the only one who knows how to make someone blush.

He sees Ronan falter for a moment, sees the way he has to swallow around something lodged in his throat and his chest swells with pride. But Ronan doesn’t stay down for long.

“Put this between your lips,” he says, handing him the bowl.

Adam feels the surprise cross his features at Ronan commanding him to do something with his lips. He flushes, he knows he does. He knows he does because Ronan’s face shifts, a new level of self-satisfaction glowing around the corners of his mouth.

He does as he’s told, shying away from eye contact for a while. He watches through his eyelashes as Ronan holds the end of the bowl in a specific way, grabbing the lighter with his other hand.

“When I say breathe in, breathe in.”

Adam nods.

“You’re probably going to cough up a lung. Fair warning,” he says as he flicks the lighter.

The smell is overwhelming and new, but not entirely unpleasant. Ronan tells Adam to breathe in and Adam does. Ronan keeps doing something weird with his thumb but Adam doesn’t question it. After a few seconds, Ronan pulls the bowl away from his mouth and tells him to breathe in again.

Adam wants to ask, Again? but he can’t, so he scrunches up his eyebrows instead.

“Breathe in, dumbass,” Ronan says, commanding again. Adam breathes in. He feels the smoke pool in his chest, swirling around in what feels like his ribcage.

“Breathe out whenever you feel like it,” Ronan says, leaning back to rest on one of his elbows, watching Adam. He looks slightly impressed.

Adam breathes out slowly just as it his chest starts to burn, just as his throat starts to itch. He does not cough. Not once. Ronan looks extremely impressed.

“Shit, Parrish,” he says, pushing himself back up towards Adam. “You’re a natural.”

Adam shrugs, trying not to look too happy at Ronan’s compliment. Ronan doesn’t compliment often and it feels significant. The whole night feels significant.

He watches Ronan take a hit and he tries not to squirm. There’s nothing inherently sexual about smoking weed, at least Adam didn’t think there was until he watches Ronan do it. He’s a pro, his cheeks hollowing around the mouthpiece, eyes fluttering closed. The smoke curls slowly from between his lips, billowing around him to trace the sharp lines of his face. Adam thinks his mouth might have been hanging open by the way his teeth click when Ronan opens his eyes and he snaps his jaw shut.

They pass the bowl back and forth for a good 15 minutes before Ronan proclaims that it’s “ashed”. Adam has no idea what that means but his fingers are starting to feel tingly, so it can’t be all bad.

Ronan gets up and crosses back to Gansey’s desk, stashing all of the stuff back in one of the drawers and reaching for the stereo. He plugs in his phone and Adam’s ears reflexively prepare for some deafening, ridiculous EDM to assault them. Instead, some softer, much more chill electronic music floats from the speakers and Adam gives a prayer of thanks in his head. When did he start praying? Who knows. His thighs feel really heavy.

Ronan must have gotten his buzz back because he’s smiling that smile again that Adam had never seen before tonight, looking younger and sweeter than ever as he sits back down on the bed. He stretches out, reaching for the forgotten bag of fries on the floor near Adam. He can’t quite reach them, so he gives up and lays flat on his back. His head rests on the opposite side of the bed, near Adam’s feet and it begins to move to the music as his eyes close. Adam follows suit, his head resting near Ronan’s feet.

Monmouth is silent and still save for the soft beats coming from the speakers. Adam can feel each beat in his wrist, in his pulse. Something feels different, he doesn’t feel crazy or unlike himself, but something about the music lets him know that he is in a somewhat impaired state. It takes him a few moments to realize what it is, but when he does, a smile spreads across his face. The music sounds like it’s coming from inside his head. It sounds like everything is being played in his head, not 10 feet away on a speaker. He can hear everything closer, clearer. It’s beautiful.

He’s still smiling when he feels a soft tap on his ankle. He sits up slightly to see Ronan doing the same, looking at him.

“Will you feed me the fries now?” he asks, drawing out “now” like a child would.

Adam laughs without meaning to. It bubbles up out of him before he can think about it, and it feels good. It feels free. For some reason, he nods his head. Ronan’s grin widens so much that Adam worries it’ll split his face.

He reaches down to grab the bag and when he sits back up, Ronan is much closer than before, sitting with his legs crossed across from Adam. His eyes are bloodshot and his eyelids are heavy but his eyes are still focused, and at that moment, they’re focused on Adam. The weed makes him feel less self-conscious, but he still feels a bit ridiculous as he reaches into the bag and finds a french fry. Is he really going to feed Ronan? Is this what the night has come to? As he pulls the fry from the bag, he chickens out and tosses it towards Ronan’s face instead. He expects it to hit Ronan squarely in the forehead, but Ronan is quick and he snaps it out of the air before Adam realizes that he’s moved. Adam tries again, throwing the fry higher in the air this time, but it doesn’t phase Ronan. His teeth flash, blinding white before the fry disappears between them. Adam is impressed. They continue this until Adam is down to the last fry, Ronan smiling between every one and Adam laughing softly every time Ronan misses one.

“Last one,” he says, pulling it from the bag.

He waves it slightly, trying not to giggle too much. Just as he goes to toss it in the air, Ronan leans forward, leans close. He dips his face and moves his mouth towards Adam’s outstretched hand. Adam freezes. He keeps moving closer and Adam stays frozen. His mouth opens, and he could have easily taken the fry right from Adam’s hand then, but he keeps moving closer. Closer. His lips close around the tips of Adam’s fingers and his eyes flick up to Adam’s. He smirks around his mouthful, not moving. Adam can feel his tongue, warm and wet, touch for a moment before he pulls away, his lips still slightly parted as he does.

Adam doesn’t move, doesn’t speak as Ronan grabs the empty bag from his hands, balling it up and tossing it to the other side of the room. The music changes, something darker and deeper oozing into the room. Ronan looks pleased by the new music, his smile sharpening and his eyes finding their way back to Adam’s still shocked face.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice full of mirth.

All Adam can do is nod.

He had never expected Ronan’s mouth to be something would crave, but now that he’s felt it, the game has changed. Ronan knows this as well by the way he’s watching Adam.

His whole body feels like it’s floating 10 feet off the ground and his head is swimming already when Ronan reaches out and pulls his hand from his lap. Just the sensation of skin on skin is so much more pronounced than it normally is that Adam feels his heart rate spike. His body is a kick drum by the time Ronan lifts his hand to his mouth.

Ronan’s tongue slides along the inside of outside of his pointer finger, his lips stopping to gather near the knuckle. He pulls away for a moment, sliding his lips along the crease where finger meets thumb. Then he opens his mouth and lets Adam’s thumb slip between his lips, his mouth closing around it. Adam feels teeth and tongue and so much all at once that his eyes roll into his head as they close, his neck stretching backwards. Ronan makes a pleased noise around Adam’s thumb as it drags through his lips, pulling the bottom one down slightly.

Adam’s head hits the headboard lightly and he leaves it there, not opening his eyes. He hears a soft laugh from Ronan and feels the bed move under them. It dips to his right and he opens his eyes to find Ronan inches from his face, his hand braced on the bed next to him.

“This okay?” he asks quietly. He’s still smirking, but his eyes are full of actual concern as if this is something Adam might not want.

“Yeah,” Adam breathes, trying to produce as much sound as he can manage. He nods slowly. “Please,” he adds.

Ronan’s eyes light up at the last word.

“Please?” he echoes, self-satisfaction dripping from his lips.

“Please,” Adam repeats.

Ronan grins savagely and goes in for the kill. He doesn’t kiss him like Adam is expecting him to. Instead, his lips find the hollow of Adam’s throat and his tongue makes its way up the side of Adam’s neck.

Adam moans.

He feels like his whole body lets go of whatever it was holding onto and he moans. His legs fall open, his stomach rolls and he bites his bottom lip. Ronan sucks at the place where Adam’s jaw meets his neck and he moans again. Ronan takes advantage and comes closer, pulling himself in the now empty space between Adam’s legs, pushing Adam up against the headboard. He kisses, he licks, he sucks, he even bites once, which sends a shock so powerful through him that his whole body jerks with it. Ronan laughs into Adam’s jawline when that happens and the way his lips vibrate on Adam’s skin makes him moan again.

Finally, Ronan drags his mouth from the underside of Adam’s jaw to Adam’s lips, their mouths connecting just before Adam finally loses it and kisses Ronan himself. Their tongues slide together and Adam reaches up, grabbing the back of Ronan’s neck to help himself get closer. Ronan’s hand snakes around to the small of Adam’s back, pulling him to his chest.

His other hand is braced on the headboard and Adam breaks the kiss to find Ronan’s wrist, trailing kisses from there up Ronan’s arm, who watches him with careful eyes. Adam has to shift to bring his mouth to the base of Ronan’s neck, but when he does, he feels Ronan humming softly under his lips. Returning the favor feels almost as good as receiving when Ronan’s neck tenses and he breathes out lightly as Adam bites down softly on the skin right under Ronan’s ear.

This sparks something in Adam, making Ronan feel the same way he does. He knows now that he has just as much affect on Ronan as Ronan does on him. That’s power. He wants to use it.

He pulls his lips away and Ronan opens his eyes. They’re still bloodshot, but all Adam can see is hunger. He expects his eyes look pretty similar. He feels hungry, blood singing in his veins, fingers itching to touch, mouth wanting to explore.

He sees the edges of Ronan’s tattoo slithering out from under his collar. His curiosity and hunger get the best of him.

“Take off your shirt,” he says.

His voice is solid, it doesn’t falter. His heart is beating fast, but the weed is keeping him calm, reminding him that he wants this, that he’s wanted this for a long time.

One side of Ronan’s mouth lifts as he reaches down without taking his eyes off of Adam and pulls off his shirt. As he settles back down between Adam’s legs, Adam rolls his eyes at Ronan. He knows he’s hot, he knows how bad Adam wants this, wants him. It sends a rush of adrenaline through him because he realizes he wants Adam to want him.

“Turn around,” Adam says.

He doesn’t realize what he’s said until it’s already out of his mouth. Ronan’s teeth gleam under the lamp light.

“Moving a little fast, aren’t we?” he snickers.

“Shut up,” Adam replies, shoving one of Ronan’s shoulders. “Turn around.”

Ronan obeys with a slight roll of his eyes, but Adam sees his nervousness. He’s not sure what Adam is going to do, and honestly, neither is Adam. He pulls his legs under him as Ronan moves. When his back and vast tattoo are staring back at Adam, he places a hand in the middle of his back and pushes him forward. Ronan glances back at him and Adam raises an eyebrow as an answer. Ronan lays down.

Adam takes a moment to take everything in, the huge pattern in front of him and the muscles still settling under it. He moves closer, straddling the back of one of Ronan’s legs, all of his self-consciousness gone.

He takes one of his hands and moves his fingertips slowly up the center of Ronan’s back, gently, like how he used to trace patterns on his own stomach in the middle of the night. When he reaches the bottom of Ronan’s neck, he changes direction and scratches back down. All of the muscles in his back roll and Adam hears him growl. That’s the sound he’s been looking for. He pulls his nails down Ronan’s skin again. Ronan growls louder. Adam smiles.

“Fuck, Parrish,” he says through his teeth.

“Adam,” Adam corrects. Last names are for when they’re around other people, for when they’re teasing, when they’re fighting. He wants to hear Ronan says his name.

He leans down and presses his lips to the center of Ronan’s back, to the nexus of black ink. Soft, careful.

“Adam,” Ronan breathes.

Adam drags his lips up and Ronan says it again.

“Adam.”

Adam bites.

“Adam.”

Adam finds the place where his shoulder meets his neck.

Adam.

The last one pulls at Adam’s stomach and his blood is rushing down, down, down. He lifts his mouth away and settles down on the bed next to Ronan, trying decide what to do next. He’s not sure, maybe it’s time to ask Ronan where they go from here.

He nudges his shoulder and Ronan’s eyes open, first studying Adam’s face and then following Adam’s hand down to where he’s palming himself through his jeans. Ronan’s eyes widen with his smile as he rolls over, and Adam can see that they’re on the same page.

He moves to touch Ronan because this seems like the logical next step but Ronan sits up and pulls himself out of Adam’s reach. Then he shifts up onto his knees and places both of his hands on Adam’s shoulder.

“Nope,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s my turn.”

He pushes Adam backwards so hard that Adam bounces once or twice on the bed. His heart starts racing again but he doesn’t stop Ronan. He doesn’t want to stop Ronan, that’s literally the last thing he wants. When he settles, Ronan climbs on top of him, his hands finding Adam’s wrists, pinning them next to his head. Adam can’t help the way his body rolls under Ronan’s weight, but it only adds to the satisfaction hidden between Ronan’s teeth.

He kisses Adam’s neck once, long and hard before he starts to pull himself down Adam’s body, his mouth following the whole way. When he gets to the bottom of Adam’s t-shirt, he grabs it between his teeth and tugs, so Adam reaches down and pulls it off. His skin feels hot and pulsing even without his shirt on, even more so when Ronan starts to trace it with his tongue.

After a few torturous minutes of that, Ronan’s mouth finds the top of Adam’s jeans. His tongue touches the skin under and Adam tries not to squirm. Ronan unzips his jeans and Adam tries not to scream. His eyes are shut tight, worried that if he watches Ronan do what he’s about to do that he’ll lose it.

Ronan’s mouth moves softly against the cotton of Adam’s boxers until his hands suddenly jerk the fabric away. Adam exhales sharply, the cool air of Monmouth a shock to his system.

“Shit,” Ronan says.

Adam cracks his eyes just to look at the expression on Ronan’s face. It’s worth it just for the swell of pride in his chest. He chuckles to himself but Ronan catches it and his eyes narrow at Adam. His smile is bloodthirsty. Adam’s face drains of color as Ronan lowers himself down between his thighs.

He teases, running his lips along the inside of Adam’s thighs. He’s biting and sucking and leaving marks that Adam will probably treasure for the rest of his life. He keeps teasing until Adam is practically trembling with anticipation. He teases for too long and when his mouth finally sighs along the sensitive skin at the base of Adam’s cock, Adam can’t help himself.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his whole body shivering.

“Fuck who?” Ronan asks just before he drags his tongue up.

“Fuck you,” Adam tries to growl, but the last word disappears into another moan as Ronan swallows him down without warning.

The sensation is so overpowering that Adam isn’t sure how he keeps from screaming. Ronan’s mouth is like something out of a dream and Adam does not ever want to wake up. He’s biting down so hard on his bottom lip that he thinks he starts to bleed by the time Ronan introduces his hand into the mix. Adam does shout then, a guttural sound that leaps from his chest. He’s not going to last much longer. Ronan starts to work furiously, and Adam is shaking from head to toe. He opens his eyes, knowing that he’s going to come at any second and he wants to warn Ronan. But Ronan is already watching him and when they make eye contact, Adam’s eyes blown-out and glassy, he hums approvingly. His dark eyes are enough to send Adam over the edge.

He throws his head back, a final fuck passing his lips as his orgasm rips through him. He’s gripping the sheets with one hand and the back of Ronan’s head with the other. Ronan pulls off and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his grin devilish. He knows how well he’s done by the way Adam hasn’t moved, hasn’t breathed.

“You okay?” he laughs.

When Adam finally does move, it’s just to look up at Ronan and roll his eyes. Ronan’s face is self-assured and satisfied and it makes something curl in Adam’s stomach. He feels like if he looked at Ronan for just a few more minutes, he’d be ready for round two. But then he sees the way Ronan is touching himself, the fabric of his jeans stretched tight.

Adam is tired, he’s drained but he wants to do this. He wants to watch Ronan unravel.

He sits up, his eyes more focused and determined around the haze of the weed. He’s never done this before, but that doesn’t mean he’s never thought about it. He has a few ideas.

He pulls his own pants back on and zips them up, standing when he’s done and extending his hand to Ronan. Ronan takes it hesitantly, but he follows Adam’s lead and stands at the edge of the bed. Adam turns them around and as soon as Ronan is on his feet, Adam drops to his knees.

It has the desired effect. All of the breath in Ronan’s throat rushes out and he throws his head back. One strangled noise escapes from his mouth. Adam hasn’t even touched him yet.

“You okay?” Adam echoes, trying not to laugh.

“Yeah,” Ronan breathes. He’s not looking at Adam. “It’s just-”

“Just what?”

“Just a sight I never thought I’d see outside of my own head.”

Ronan has pictured this before. Not just this, but Adam doing this. The emotion that shoots through him is something they’ll have to talk about in the morning because it’s something he wants to keep feeling. He wants to keep feeling the way Ronan makes him feel.

If Adam wasn’t so determined to suck Ronan’s dick at that moment, he would have kissed him. But sucking his dick also felt like a good reward.

As he unzips Ronan’s jeans, Ronan closes his eyes again. Adam is glad for this, he’s a little nervous and he doesn’t want Ronan watching his every move. As Adam pulls the elastic of Ronan’s boxers over the sharp bones of his hips, he breathes out in surprise. He was pretty sure he could do this before, but now, he’s a little more nervous.

However, before he can even think about giving up, Ronan’s hand finds its way into his hair and he tugs lightly. He’s impatient and Adam aims to please. Ronan wants him, he’s demonstrated that time and time again tonight. He can do this, he can do this because Ronan wants him to.

He opens his mouth and tries his hardest not to let his teeth scrape, and this, apparently, this is just what Ronan has been looking for. His knees buckle slightly at the first contact and Adam is a little worried he’s going to collapse. But Ronan straightens himself after a moment, pulling even harder on Adam’s hair. Adam takes this as a sign to keep going. After a while, he thinks he starts to get the hang of it because Ronan’s breathing gets louder and louder and his grip gets tighter and tighter. Adam brings his hand up to help, thinking of all the things Ronan did that Adam had liked.

“Jesus,” Ronan sighs and the rush of adrenaline Adam receives at pleasing him is terrifying. It’s enormous, it’s overwhelming.

His efforts redouble and if the way Ronan’s knees are trembling, he won’t be able to hold out much longer. A few seconds later, Ronan pulls at Adam’s hair once, sharp. Adam looks up at Ronan, making eye contact, and apparently just the sight of Adam on his knees for him is the last straw before Ronan loses it. Adam isn’t ready for what comes next, so he pulls away, keeping a hand working as Ronan comes onto Gansey’s perfectly white, perfectly clean sheets.

Maybe he’ll feel guilty in the morning, but now, as he watches Ronan lose absolutely all control because of him, all he feels is pride. Ronan is beautiful, flushed red and out of breath and Adam wants to kiss the air back into him. So he does. He stands and doesn’t care about anything else, just his mouth on Ronan’s. Ronan pants between kisses, redressing himself enough so that he and Adam can retreat back to his room.

Adam pushes them backwards until they fall into Ronan’s door, their bodies pushing and writhing on top of each other. Ronan reaches behind him for the door handle and they stumble into darkness.

Adam closes the door.

-

The next morning, Adam wakes to shouting.

It’s not the voice he was expecting to hear that morning, it’s Gansey’s.

“Seriously?” he shouts through the door.

Adam is glad he remembered to lock the door last night.

“Congratulations and all, but seriously? Your bed is ten feet away! It could not have been that much effort to move ten feet!”

It’s too early to be awake and definitely too early for shouting so Adam turns to wake Ronan. He needs to make the shouting stop. But when he turns, Ronan is already awake, and he’s watching Adam. They both flush slightly, but Ronan recovers first. He leans over and kisses Adam on the mouth, just a small, soft kiss. It’s exactly what Adam needs.

After Ronan finally wore them both out last night, he had passed out, but Adam had laid awake, full of anxiety about what the next morning would bring. Would they both blame it on the weed? Would it be considered a mistake and never talked about again? Adam had not wanted either of those things. He wanted to wake up and kiss Ronan.

As Ronan’s lips move slowly over his, things start to feel real. They start to feel even more important than they did last night. Ronan pulls away and looks him in the eyes, something tentative in the way his eyes are searching, searching for regret or shame.

Adam kisses him back.

When Gansey shouts again, Ronan breaks the kiss, rolling his eyes. He gets out of bed, his hips swinging slightly as he makes his way to the door. Adam thinks he could get used to this view.

Ronan unlocks the door, opening it enough so that Gansey can see him but not Adam.

“I’ll buy you some new fucking sheets in a few hours,” he growls, “Now let us sleep.”

“Fine, but- us? Wait, is he still here?”

Ronan nods and Gansey starts to falter.

“Oh, sorry. Yeah! Anytime you want it is fine, I guess. Uh, congrats!” he shouts through the door.

“Thanks Gansey,” Adam mumbles, his face red hot with embarrassment.

“You’re welcome,” Gansey replies as Ronan flips him off.

“Goodbye now,” he says just before he slams the door in Gansey’s face.

After Gansey’s footsteps move away from the door, Ronan turns to face Adam. He doesn’t move forward, he just stands in the doorway, his head cocked to the side. He smiles.

Yeah, Adam could definitely get used to this.