Work Text:
"This was your best idea in a while, Ronan."
Adam felt the soft pressure of lips against his forehead. "Hmm, really? I think last night was better." The low laugh that came from his boyfriend made his heart jump.
"Asshole. You know what I mean." The strong arms that wrapped around to his front tightened like a snake.
Ronan and Adam had been nestled in a hammock for what he guessed had been the whole afternoon. Ronan had wrestled Adam into it after an early morning shift, insisting he needed some comfort in his life. Adam had other tasks to do, although after being enveloped by Ronan, their existence evaporated. The day only became about the Henrietta warmth coupled with Ronan against him. With Ronan, time went by differently.
The (presumably dreamed) hammock was one that had been rolled up in the depths of the Barns, but just last week Ronan had pilfered it with the memory of laying in it himself when he was younger. He, Declan, and Matthew had somehow fit in it all at once–a picture-worthy time, meaning there must have been a picture taken and stored carefully in one of the numerous photo albums the Lynchs kept.
"You're like a dream, you know that?" Ronan's voice was soft and measured. Adam still remembered Ronan's words all that time ago; before the end of the hunt for Glendower. The words, 'maybe I dreamt you' meant so much more now. And it mattered infinitely more as he felt Ronan's chest rise and fall–every time he was close enough to smell the same cologne he wore everyday. If anyone were a dream, it would be Ronan.
Adam coaxed Ronan into loosening his grip and turned around to face him. His eyes were trained on him, the same color the sky was today. They overflowed with suspense.
Adam slowly set his right hand on Ronan's face. He felt the stubble and the soft texture of his skin and the memories of kissing him everywhere his hand touched. Adam closed his eyes and smiled inwardly, before he opened them again to meet Ronan's.
"If I were a dream I'd have crooked teeth. God knows you always overlook the small stuff," Adam huffed. "Maybe I wouldn't even have teeth if I was dreamt by you, Lynch."
Ronan's eyes lightened like a dawn sky and a toothy grin overtook them soon after. But Adam didn't get a long enough chance to see it–he never did–before Ronan pulled him into his chest and mumbled something he couldn't quite hear. That bastard probably said it like that on purpose, too, Adam thought.
Adam asked what he had said and Ronan stayed silent. And Adam let him be. He would say it eventually.
The summer sun had traveled to the other side of the sky, which was clear for the fact of when Adam poked his head out from the comfort of Ronan's chest, it's rays blinded him. Ronan seemed to sense his distress, so he shifted his arm to block it from his eyes.
Adam shifted his focus from Ronan's arm to his face. His eyes stared back, as always. Daring him to say something. Adam stared back, patient enough in the moment to not let Ronan goad him into asking again. He would tell.
Ronan sighed. "Tamquam."
Adam's heart warmed. "Alter idem."
Soon after, Ronan rolled out of the hammock and took a laughing Adam with him over something he had said–which was no longer important when lips met his. They giggled through kissing all the way to the house and to the couch in the living room to kiss some more.
After some time, the collective warmth of their body heat drew them apart and drew Adam to a now shirtless Ronan. His tattoo angled itself and moved impossibly, but that didn't stop Adam from tracing it with his fingers and then his mouth. Under his lips, Adam felt Ronan's muscles tense with every kiss and breath he took. His hands roamed his back to his shoulders, massaging him into the couch.
Eventually, Adam's fingers and lips slowed to a more casual pace, one that lulled them both into wanting a nap. One of them said that to the other–or maybe they both thought it, Adam couldn't tell–so they curled up together in Ronan's bed to talk and share soft, comforting kisses with one another until they fell asleep for the night.