#pynchpromptweek
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through the years we will be together (if the fates allow)
a/n this is a gift for @mletart for @pynchpromptweek Secret Santa! I hope you like it!
summary: The Lynch brothers do Christmas caroling together to uphold the brotherly bond after their parents passed away. It so happens to be that Adam lives at the church they frequent at. The Myth of the Brothers Lynch become a reality when Adam finally meets the middle one.
word count: 2571
ao3
Adam had never seen them, he had tried many times to catch as much as a glimpse but his job at Boyd’s lined up with the mass times and he was always a little too late. Once, he thought he saw the edge of a BMW turn around the corner but he had waved that off. “Good boys” as the attendees had said, didn’t drive cars that were shark-nosed, all edges and brute force.
“They sing like angels,” one old lady told Adam. She attended church often, burning a candle sometimes. Adam wondered who she had lost, if she was the only one left standing. He almost wanted to ask if the angel metaphor was blasphemy but he held it in at the last moment and politely listened instead, the key to his apartment still in hand. “Especially the middle one.”
“Ronan,” Adam said helpfully, nodding his head in recognition. He had been so mystified by the brothers that he had absorbed every bit of information about them like a sponge, trying to piece everything together and create clear images of them.
He never quite succeeded.
“You must come to mass,” the lady said, her watery eyes looking up at Adam hopefully and Adam had politely declined though it cost him great hardship to do so.
“I’m not religious,” Adam said apologetically and stayed to listen to the lady’s story about the grandson she never really saw because he went to study abroad before Adam finally went up the stairs and let himself into his apartment.
The Brother’s Lynch, now a tangible subject in his mind, took residency in his thoughts for the remainder of the day, the week, until it was Sunday again and Adam was home for once.
Boyd had called Adam to him a few days before, telling him that he had to take some vacation days or he would breach the contract he had signed the year before. It so happened that one of those vacation days was that Sunday, since it wouldn’t be too busy at the shop that day anyway.
And thus, Adam was at the window on Sunday, peering through the slightly cracked glass to try and catch the eye of the brothers.
He watched as the shark-nosed BMW appeared again, followed by a much more boring car, parking next to the BMW. The first guy that got out was one that looked like he was the poster child for bad behaviour. Shaved head, tattoos that curled up from his shoulders and around his neck, peeking just above the black suit he was wearing, the tie artfully undone.
Next came another guy out of the more boring car, a displeased frown already set in his eyebrows. He wore a gray suit, everything perfectly in place. Adam wondered if the perfection was compensating for something.
Then, the last guy, which Adam expected was Ronan, the one with the nice voice, the “very kind boy” as one of the old ladies had whispered to him. Golden curls, a sweet smile on his face, an excited jump in his step as he entered the church.
Adam didn’t go down but he snuck out of his apartment and sat on the stairs, hoping to catch one of their voices. He wanted to learn the magic behind the sound, understand why everyone, including him, had been mesmerised by the brothers.
He didn’t hear a single one stand out, all of them combining too much to notice the ‘angelic’ ones the woman had told him about. Adam wished he still had his other ear in use, thinking that perhaps he would be blessed with the heavenly voices of the brothers if his father hadn’t beaten the hearing out of it.
Disappointedly, he stood again and moved upstairs to his little apartment, sitting down to study as he had done a hundred nights before and would continue to do so until the very end.
It wasn’t a half-hour later when he heard a single voice, moving below in the heart of the church, the voice echoing off the wall. Adam quietly tiptoed down and peeked around the corner. He was too entranced by the voice at first to notice the person singing. The musical notes and the quiet timber of it made Adam wonder if the church was built for the sound instead of God. But then he saw the figure and his heart momentarily stopped.
Shaved head, eyes sunken into his head, was he sleeping enough? Perhaps he was an insomniac as Adam was as well, by choice or not was the question. The suit jacket had been shrugged off and laid over one of the benches. His dress shirt had been rolled up his arms, exposing the boy’s pale forearms, scarred and vulnerable looking. Adam could distinctively see two hooks etched into the sides of his neck, the black ink a stark contrast against the whiteness of his skin.
This must be the youngest one Adam thought. He wanted to go up, introduce himself but he was too scared to. The boy was not only taller than him but significantly stronger too. Adam didn’t exactly feel fear but he didn’t want to take any chances either.
He barely noticed the singing had stopped before the boy was in front of him and Adam’s heart stilled in his chest. “Who the fuck are you?” Adam was asked who immediately went into defensive mode.
“I live here,” Adam said with an annoyed pull of his lips. He wondered why the ladies had said they were ‘good boys’. This one seemed anything but.
The boy’s mouth opened and closed, the spell on his hardened eyes momentarily broken and he looked so much younger immediately. “Oh, I didn’t know.”
Adam swallowed and nodded before his everlasting need for approval reared its ugly head. “Adam Parrish,” he said, knowing how ridiculous his name sounded in a church of all things. The boy, Matthew, Adam presumed, seemed to realise as well and smirked a little. Adam wished he didn’t find it as attractive as he did.
“Ronan Lynch,” the boy replied and…
Oh.
Oh.
“You’re not Matthew?” Adam asked and he immediately realised how stupid he sounded. He also realised his hand was still in Ronan’s, pleasantly warm under his soft skin.
“That would be my baby brother,” Ronan answered and cocked his head. Adam didn’t dare to tell him that it made him look like a confused puppy. “Why would you think I was Matthew?”
And here Adam was, standing in front of the most dangerous-looking boy with the most beautiful voice he had ever heard, tongue-tied and all. “The ladies who come here told me Ronan was the nicest of the brothers and well…”
“Matthew looks like a golden retriever personified,” Ronan helpfully added. “We’re all aware.”
Adam bit his lip and finally released Ronan’s hand. It took him everything to not immediately start running. He would have if he didn’t also want to tell Ronan how nice his voice was and, more importantly, leave a good impression for whatever reason that might be.
“Your voice…” Adam started and cleared his throat. “It’s really nice.”
He walked away after that, hating himself for coming up with ‘nice’ of all things. As if that wasn’t the lamest thing he could have said to the hottest person he had ever met in his short and sheltered life. You didn’t often find people like him in little Henrietta, Virginia and Adam blew it completely.
Adam could hear the soft laughter of Ronan echo against the walls again, following him up into his room. It was a quiet and surprising thing, fleeting like the birds’ wings on Ronan’s neck.
Adam dreamt about Ronan that night. Perhaps he truly wasn’t real but just a myth his mind had helpfully added a face to. But it couldn’t be, Ronan’s hand had felt so real in his own, warm and soft, the comforting touch of a mystical stranger.
Adam looked out the next day but Ronan was gone. It wasn’t a surprise, he didn’t think people that drove such cars actually slept in churches but he still felt a deep sense of disappointment that nobody was waiting for him downstairs, singing a beautiful song in greeting.
Adam got back to work the next Sunday and though he rushed back to catch a glimpse of the brothers, or, well, Ronan, it was to no avail. They were gone, carrying their voices with them.
The days flew by, the weather got worse. Adam was cold more often than not and in those freezing days where he could only pace up and down his small apartment to gain some warmth, he remembered the touch of Ronan’s hands, their palms pressed together, Ronan’s finger lightly touching his racing pulse.
“They have a habit of Christmas caroling,” one of the ladies, Dorothy, apparently, had told him with a wink as if she knew Adam had been looking out for them. “They do it every year, it keeps the brotherly bond alive.”
Adam thought Christmas caroling only happened in cheesy Christmas movies but he had thanked her and kept Dorothy’s words to heart. He made sure to finish all of his homework before sitting down on his bed on Christmas eve, eyeing the door with nervous anticipation. He belatedly thought of the possibility they would only carol at the door of the church, not of his apartment. Still, he held the hope that Ronan would remember their conversation and attempt to sing for him.
Though Adam had hope, he didn’t actually expect a knock on his door. He turned the doorknob with a shaky hand, his stomach fluttering with nerves.
Before him stood three brothers.
Declan, his expression stoic, his suit black this time with a tie that looked as if it was made by someone artistic, snowflakes and Christmas trees decorating the red and green background. The tie greatly contrasted what Adam had thought was his personality. Maybe he wasn’t as boring as he portrayed himself to be.
Matthew, all golden curls and happy smiles as he sang, his head bobbing a little with every note, his eyes squinted to feel the music more. He was as he seemed, cheerfulness evident in every word he sang.
And then there was Ronan. He was dressed in all black, not quite right for Christmas eve but it fit him, Adam could tell even though he didn’t truly know him. The scar on his lip pulled a little when he sang, the sole focus point of Adam’s sight until he suddenly remembered he had been staring at Ronan’s lips with fascination and looked up again. His eyes met Ronan’s pale blue ones. It reminded him of the ice he always wished he could skate on but never could afford.
Ronan smiled while he sang, he could tell from the crinkles around his eyes. Adam couldn’t help but smile back and applaud a little when they were done.
“You deserve every praise you get,” Adam told the brothers. Declan nodded in appreciation and squeezed Ronan’s shoulder.
“He really is nice,” he said, smirking a little as Ronan’s cheeks turned red, his expression affronted that his brother dared to expose him like that. “Ronan forced us to sing for you.”
This time it was Adam’s time to blush, unable to meet Ronan’s eyes so they fell on Matthew instead who looked ecstatic. “I think you’ll make a lovely brother in law.”
“Matthew!” Ronan yelled and Matthew laughed as he dragged Declan down to ‘give them some privacy’.
Adam finally looked up to Ronan again and tugged a little on the sleeve of his suit jacket so he met his eyes again. “I’m glad you came here.”
“You are?” Ronan asked, sounding as if he expected Adam to slam his door in his face. Adam could sense the hope in Ronan’s eyes and, hell, it was Christmas Eve . This was the night for miracles and taking chances, for spending time with loved ones that Adam didn’t have but if he played it right, he could have exactly that next Christmas.
Adam thus nodded and ran inside to get a pen, writing his phone number on the palm of Ronan’s hand, the light blue almost the colour of the veins that ran underneath his skin. “I want to get to know you better, maybe you become less of a myth in my head.”
Ronan’s laugh sounded like bells and Adam couldn’t help but grin back, strangely proud that he made the boy with the wonderful voice laugh like that.
“I don’t use my phone a lot,” Ronan confessed but protectively curled his fingers around the phone number anyway and Adam knew he was going to call him.
“See it as a Christmas present to me,” Adam replied and Ronan’s lips pulled in a smirk, leaning closer to him as he spoke his next words.
“And what is my present then?”
Adam rolled his eyes, somewhere between exasperated and amused, knowing that he would be walking that fine line more often with Ronan. “A date?���
Ronan’s cheeks flushed a little again and he nodded. Adam cheered inwardly. “Deal,” he replied as if they were in some kind of business meeting. He briefly frowned, having realised that himself too.
Adam wanted to tease that he was more like his brother than he was probably willing to admit but he kept his mouth shut to ensure he would still go on that date.
“Deal,” he replied softly instead and watched as Ronan finally turned to leave, looking back one last time at him before going back into the cold. Adam watched Ronan push Declan and ruffle Matthew’s hair before getting into the shark-nosed BMW and driving off, the pristine snow still lingering to its exterior.
The myth of the Lynch Brothers didn’t end there but next Christmas, Adam was in on it too. He didn’t carol, it was something for the brothers alone. Instead, he comfortably sat on the worn couch of the Barns, sipping hot chocolate with Chainsaw, Ronan’s raven, her beak comfortably pressed into his neck, waiting for the brothers to return.
With them, the Lynches brought warmth and joy, a liveliness that Adam had missed in those years alone. It wasn’t before long that they came barrelling through the door, Ronan curling up next to him, one arm around the back of his shoulders as they retold where they had been caroling, how the old ladies of the church wished Adam a happy Christmas.
And Adam did have a happy Christmas, more so than he ever experienced before. He was surrounded by people he cared for more than anything and finally understood what the true Christmas spirit was about. Love, joy, and most importantly, spending time with your family, be it born or found.
#pynch#pynch fic#pynch fanfic#pynch fanfiction#trc#the raven cycle#trc fanfic#the raven cycle fanfiction#adam parrish#ronan lynch#pynchpromptweek#declan lynch#matthew lynch#mine
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Baby Animals Are Romantic
A gift for @semicolonsandsimiles who gave me the prompt “post-canon/established relationship” for the @pynchpromptweek Pynch Secret Santa 2020. Have some of Ronan and Adam being soft and going on dates with each other!
Title: Baby Animals Are Romantic
Word Count: 3301
Summary: Adam had never been to the county fair before, so when Ronan suggests they go he figures this is a farming thing. But Adam's eager to spend time with his boyfriend, even if he also has to listen to an auctioneer trying to sell steers. Or, in which Ronan just wants to take his oblivious boyfriend on a date and maybe hold hands on the Ferris wheel.
Read on AO3
Ronan approached him a couple of weeks after they had finally discussed the dream-goop. It felt like they had progressed to a new stage of their relationship, with Ronan dedicated to his dreaming again and Adam figuring out what school was going to look like. Adam was bent over one of his many lists (this one a bulleted list of all the work study opportunities on campus) when Ronan rested his shoulder on the door jam to the study where Adam had taken up residence.
He liked the large wooden desk.
“You know, the fair’s coming up,” Ronan muttered.
“The what?”
Adam looked up from his list — the best chance for steady hours was working in the campus cafeteria but the assignment at the library would let him do surreptitious homework on the job more often — and frowned at Ronan. He could remember a school fair in elementary, but Ronan wouldn’t have those same memories.
“Wait, the county fair?” Adam laid his pen down carefully on the desk and leaned back.
The county fair took place every August at the fairground, which was just another field north of Singers Falls. Aglionby never paid much attention to the county fair, with the ruckus of the Fourth of July always outshining anything else that happened during the summer up until last year. Adam vaguely remembered some of his classmates in elementary school talking about their 4H projects or art submissions with markers and crayons.
“I’ve never been to the fair,” Adam said slowly. Ronan stood up straighter, pushing himself off the door. “What’s even there?”
“Y’know, competitions and shit, who can grow the biggest pumpkin, who’s got the best pig.” Ronan slumped fully into the room to lean against Adam’s desk, like standing straight was a hassle for him. “There’s rides they set up for kids, like those tiny airplanes that you get in and spin around.”
Adam didn’t say that he had never been in those rides as a kid. He knew Ronan wasn’t bringing that up to remind Adam of what he hadn’t had. They just had different perspectives of what kids had. Adam had a mattress on the floor of the double-wide, and Ronan had a dad who created magical things from dreams.
“And the auctioneer will come by to sell off livestock and shit,” Ronan said, speaking faster. “Steers and stuff for farmers. Sometimes there’s baby animals from the stock.”
Oh, so that was a thing. Adam leaned his elbows on the desk so that he could be closer to Ronan’s downturned face.
“You wanna go?”
Ronan’s shoulders slumped so fast that Adam barely noticed how high they had been before. But Ronan’s face relaxed at the same time, and that was more fun for Adam to watch.
“Shit, Parrish, don’t act like you're doing me a favor or anything,” Ronan drawled.
Adam rolled his eyes. For everything that had happened over the summer, Ronan was still shit at asking for what he wanted. He could’ve just asked Adam to go with him to the county fair auction.
“Fine.” Adam hid his smile in his shoulder and picked up his pen again. “When’s the auction?”
“Friday afternoon,” said Ronan. “You just have the factory shift on Friday, right? You’re free after that.”
Ronan asked like he didn’t have Adam’s whole work schedule memorized. Adam looked up and didn’t bother concealing his smile at Ronan.
“Yep.”
To Adam’s delight, the tips of Ronan’s ears turned pink as he nodded as if nothing was unusual about that.
“Good.” Ronan turned on his heel and marched back out the door. “Hey, brat, what’re you doing with that?”
Adam left Ronan to manage Opal on his own, but he was still smiling when he hunched back over his lists.
…
They left Opal with the Fox Way ladies on Friday, something Opal herself had mixed feelings about, but she seemed happy enough with all the various herbs the women let her chew on. Ronan drove the two of them back through Singers Falls and up to the fairgrounds.
Adam had only ever seen it when it was an empty field, mostly mowed down grass with patches of dirt or mud, depending on the season. Ronan kept vibrating in the driver’s seat, shifting so aggressively that Adam wondered if he should’ve offered to go “driving” with him before going to the fair. Or instead of it.
When they finally got to the fair, just after lunch, the field was already half full of cars on one side of the skinny two-lane road. The field on the other side of the road was full of white tents and footpaths around the various attractions. Rows of red and yellow and green tractors stretched out from one side of the fair into the empty trimmed field. True to what Ronan had said, there were a few carnival rides for kids, including a full sized Ferris wheel near the center of the fair.
“There’s a lot of people here,” Adam noted as they parked and got out of the Beemer. Lots of people was typically not Ronan’s jam.
“Don’t be a wuss, Parrish,” Ronan said. He hurried around the car to stand close to Adam’s side. “Let’s go.”
He grabbed at Adam’s hand and jerked him towards the road. Adam went. It was hard not to follow Ronan Lynch when he was this much like Ronan Lynch, a black T-shirt covering his shoulders while the wicked curves of his tattoo peeked out at the base of his neck.
For a minute as they crossed the road, Adam wondered if he should be more careful, if he should take his hand away from Ronan’s. His parents weren’t generally fair-goers, so he didn’t expect to see them or anyone else from the trailer park here, but farmers were their own kind of people. What would they think about two boys holding hands as they ran to the admission booth? But as soon as they pulled up to the ticket window where a gray-haired lady with a straw hat sat taking money, Ronan let go of Adam’s hand to dig in his pocket.
“I could’ve got that,” Adam protested, mostly because he could.
“So, you can buy us lunch,” said Ronan as he folded his wallet and shoved it back into his jeans.
The lady gave a string of pink paper tickets to Ronan, who tore it in half and gave one half to Adam. He took them and frowned at them. They looked like raffle tickets, but Adam wasn’t sure what purpose they served here.
“C’mon,” Ronan said and walked through the gates.
Inside the fairgrounds were full of lines of people grouped and moving like pods of fish. The packed squadrons of bodies all moved the same way, like rush hour traffic with bodies instead of cars. Ignoring everyone, Ronan pulled Adam to a stop in front of a fork in the dirt path and tilted his chin up towards the open sky.
“The games are that way.” Ronan pointed to the right.
Adam saw the pointed tops of colorful booths painted in reds and oranges and mechanical spires that — sure enough — propelled tiny metal airplanes up with kids strapped in and screaming in delight.
“I wanna know if they have the stupid carnival shooting games,” said Ronan. Adam rolled his eyes, but Ronan’s eyes went yet another direction. “There’s the Ferris wheel.”
Adam followed Ronan’s finger to the large white and purple wheel at the other side of the fairgrounds, straight ahead of where they were.
“Yeah, looks kinda cheesy.” Adam had only seen those kinds of things in movies. But it wasn’t what Ronan was here for, and in lieu of a responsible farmer, Adam supposed he could nudge Ronan towards the actual prize. “Where’s the animals? You said there would be babies.”
A frown darted quickly across Ronan’s face as he turned to Adam, but then he softened into something private, something reserved for Adam and the Barns. It was the kind of look that made Adam think they could survive a few years of long-distance, as long as Ronan always looked at him like that when he came home.
“Yeah, sure, Parrish, let’s go look at the babies,” said Ronan.
Slipping his shoulder behind Adam’s back, Ronan nudged Adam forward and down the left-hand path. They navigated around the people walking the opposite direction, and Adam felt Ronan’s hand pressing against his back, just below his shoulder blades where Ronan’s body blocked anyone looking closely at the two boys. Adam’s skin felt hot under his T-shirt.
They walked together to a long barn with a shiny metal roof, and Ronan shifted to take the lead up the incline to the end of the barn where the main doors were standing wide open. Adam recognized the smell immediately: hay and warm bodies and corn. But this was different from the Barns in a way that Adam could only attribute to the dream quality of Ronan’s home. Even once everything was awake again, there was a sense of peace over the whole thing, a wildness that the cows, the deer, Opal, and Ronan himself all were a part of.
But Ronan looked happy enough to be in his natural environment. The thought of teasing Ronan that he belonged in a barn made Adam’s mouth quirk up. Ronan grabbed his hand before he could say anything and pulled Adam towards one side of the barn.
“Look,” Ronan pointed into the pen.
People were pressed up against the wood of the pen, but Ronan just elbowed a man out of the way and ignored the glare that he received in turn. Adam scoffed but walked up beside Ronan and looked inside the wooden pen. Two lambs sat in the pen next to the back wall while a third lamb walked around on spindly legs, jerking its way back and forth from the many outstretched hands of the people crowding the pen then darting back to the safety of the other lambs away from people.
Adam rested his elbows on the top of the pen and watched the lamb dance back and forth adventurously, nipping at the outstretched fingers of a kid who had climbed up the rungs of the pen and then hopping back out of reach of all the adult hands that stretched out to pet the animal. Beside him, Ronan sighed and leaned down over the closed pen, nearly folding himself in half. He let his hand dangle loosely near the fluffy bedding lining the pen and ignored the rest of the people clamoring to see the baby lamb and entice them closer. Adam watched as one of the lambs from the back of the pen got up on its own shaky legs and nosed its way closer. Ronan wiggled his fingers and let the lamb approach him and sniff cautiously.
Adam leaned harder onto Ronan and watched the lamb lick at Ronan’s fingers, wary but eager for something that Ronan had. Adam could sympathize.
Ronan glanced up.
“Wanna pet him?” he asked softly, his voice toned down from his usual boisterous shredding of the English language.
Adam scooted closer to Ronan and leaned down with him, letting his fingers dangle just like Ronan had instead of thrusting his hand out in beckoning motions like the rest of the people. The lamb moved from sniffing Ronan’s fingers to seeking out Adam’s. It’s tongue tickled the tips of his fingers, and Adam stretched his hand out a little further and gently patted the top of the lamb’s head. He turned to see Ronan grinning at him.
“C’mon,” said Ronan. “I bet there are some calves they got further down.”
…
They passed through the other end of the livestock barn, where Ronan had stopped by pretty much every pen to see the baby animals and try to entice each one closer. Every time he had gotten an animal to come close to him, he offered petting privileges to Adam, which he appreciated. But Adam liked seeing Ronan’s unique magic with barns and baby animals even more than touching them himself. For all his dangerous appearance, Ronan was most at home being soft around animals.
After the barn, Ronan dragged Adam — fairly willingly but still — down the continuing path that looped back around to the carnival games that were all grouped together, next to the mechanical toy rides. Adam beat Ronan in a game of “shoot the water gun at the target,” which won him both an oversized red foam cowboy hat and a heated look from Ronan. It was only when Ronan had a bizarrely large stuffed giraffe under his arm that Adam thought he might be missing something.
“We should get food,” Ronan said. “You’re buying, right?”
Adam glanced down at the beaten watch on his wrist, still able to tell him when he was about to be late for a shift.
“What about the auction?”
Ronan frowned at him.
“Why would you wanna see an auction?” he demanded. “It’s just a bunch of people yelling about cows.”
“You yell about cows on a regular basis, Lynch.” Adam rolled his eyes. Ronan was probably just protesting too much and didn’t want to go to something that he was being forced to.
“Those’re my cows, though,” Ronan said into Adam’s good ear. “Special breed.”
Adam felt his cheeks flush and tried to brush the blush away with the back of his hand.
“Let’s do whatever you want,” he tried. “Where d’you want to go?”
Ronan stopped in between a booth with a ring toss and the back of a food cart that smelled like hot oil and sugar.
“I brought you to have fun, Parrish,” he said. “Are you that much of a workaholic? We talked about this.”
Adam bristled. He breathed in deeply, almost matching Ronan’s smoker-inhale, and told himself to be calm.
“Excuse me for trying to make sure you get what you need outa this,” he muttered lowly.
“Excuse you?!” Ronan’s eyebrows flew up.
Adam grimaced. The words had slipped out. Fighting with Ronan was still a charged activity for the both of them. Adam was still getting used to softness, from both himself and from Ronan Lynch.
“Look, I’m trying to be considerate of you here,” Adam explained very calmly.
“Well, don’t feel like you have to spare my fucking feelings!” Ronan bit out.
Adam threw his hands into the air, funny cowboy hat and all.
“You wanted to come!”
“I wanted to go on a date with you!” snapped Ronan.
Adam blinked his way out of his sudden anger and felt his stomach sink in its absence. Ronan looked suddenly sheepish and angry that he was sheepish. His jaw ticked like he was clenching his teeth, like he was trying to hold his words back from where they could do the most damage to Adam.
“I can do better than just driving in cars,” Ronan said. “This was gonna be fun. Way to ruin the day.”
Adam’s stomach turned to lead. He hated the idea that this was all ruined because of him. Part of his mind argued that going to the county fair was a weird idea for a date, but he recognized the defensive part of himself, the part that constantly looked for ways that he could get hurt so that he knew where to protect himself.
But the larger part of him saw Ronan’s jaw clench the same way it did when he was trying not to let his lip tremble, trying not to show how much he felt.
Adam thrust his red cowboy hat into Ronan’s hands and shoved him towards a wooden table in front of the food truck.
“Wait there,” he ordered. “I’ll get us lunch.” Ronan glowered at him unconvincingly. “Just wait there—” Adam just needed a couple of minutes to get his brain in order. “—I’ll be back.”
He marched off, trying to see what looked like actual food in this place.
…
Adam returned with a paper plate damp with grease and soaked in powdered sugar. Ronan was still sitting at the wooden picnic table, his head resting on his folded arms on the table. Adam slid the fried pile of dough toward Ronan and sat next to him. Sitting across would be too far away.
“I bought a funnel cake,” he said.
Ronan lifted his head and stared at the deep fried treat. It wasn’t real food, but Adam had thought it smelled good and was the kind of thing Ronan would enjoy stuffing his face with.
“I’m sorry,” Adam said. “I didn’t know this was supposed to be a date. I thought you were just looking for more animals for the farm.”
Ronan snuffled into his bare elbow and then rested his chin on his arms.
“You’re a real romantic, Parrish.”
Adam bent his head and leaned into Ronan’s shoulder so that he could hide the small smile that threatened his mouth. Ronan was at least willing to forgive him, which made the shameful tightness in his belly abate a little.
“You like baby animals, though.” Adam pressed his head against Ronan’s stubbled skull. “I knew you wanted to come here.”
Ronan shifted beneath him like he wanted to sit up straighter but didn’t want to actually lose Adam’s touch.
“So, you didn’t wanna come?”
“I didn’t say that,” Adam said quickly. He drew his head back so that he could wrap his arm around Ronan’s waist cautiously, still aware that they were surrounded by people who had probably grown up like Adam’s parents. “I liked seeing you with the lamb. That was cute.”
Ronan’s ears turned bright pink, and he turned to hide most of his face against Adam’s neck.
“Shuddup.”
Adam grinned.
“I’m just saying.” He shifted his hand up to cover Ronan’s ribs. “I would’ve come even if I didn’t know it was a date. I like being with you.”
Ronan relaxed into him, and Adam held his breath like he always did when he had to remind himself that this was his now. He wasn’t being selfish for having this.
“So, next time I should spell things out for you,” Ronan murmured into his neck.
“Might be good.” Adam knew his own weaknesses, and he was prone to not communicating. He was working on that.
Then Adam straightened, shifting so that Ronan’s head rolled off his neck.
“Or I could ask you,” Adam said to Ronan’s confused (and slightly disappointed) look. “Ronan Lynch, do you want to ride the Ferris wheel with me?”
The brief glance of Ronan’s wide eyes made Adam smile through his heated cheeks. He knew he was blushing, but Ronan’s cheeks were fully pink now.
“I can try to bribe the guy to stop us at the top,” said Adam. “Like in the movies.”
Ronan inhaled his smoker’s breath and leaned so close that he nearly headbutted Adam.
“Thought that was cheesy.”
“I don’t need a replay of what I missed out on, Lynch.” A bit of leftover shame curled in Adam’s stomach before he smothered it entirely. He focused on softening his face, and he took Ronan’s hand tentatively. “But if you want to show me your favorite stuff, I can get behind that.”
Ronan threaded his fingers through Adam’s.
“I wanna be with you,” he said. “The rest doesn’t matter so much.”
Adam grinned.
“So, come on.” Adam pulled Ronan until he followed Adam to his feet. “Let’s go.”
“What about the funnel cake?” Ronan protested. Adam didn’t think he really meant it.
“That’s barely food, Lynch.” He rolled his eyes anyway. “I’ll buy you some real food after the Ferris wheel.”
“Fair food is a time-honored tradition, you pleb.”
Adam grinned all the way through Ronan’s complaining as they walked hand-in-hand through the fairgrounds.
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@pynchpromptweek Day 5: Future
This is my cute little ode to the scene in Call Down The Hawk where Ronan dreams of a future Adam, standing in a field, feeding him ripe tomatoes. I looked up dream symbolism after that, and tomatoes, particularly the consumption of, indicates happy married/domestic bliss. I’m pretty sure Maggie knew that when she wrote this. ;)
Sorry this is late! I was super super super busy working on @rainbowcrate the last few days! Enjoy our lovely favorite couple 💖
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[Ronan Lynch / Adam Parrish] Rated T | 3.3k
↳ Day 1: Coffee Shop AU for @pynchpromptweek
“We have a lot of cows.”
Adam pauses mid-pour. “Cows? Like with the ‘s’ at the end? Multiple?”
“Yeah, multiple. Like a lot actually. Just a shit ton of cows.”
Adam practices pouring a latte heart into Ronan’s cup, he admires his handiwork before capping it. “I guess that makes you a cowboy, then.”
Despite his protests, Ronan’s cup boasts cow boy in Adam’s messy scrawl, accompanied by a shitty doodle of a cow smiling back at him.
>> continue reading on AO3
#trc cdth prompt week 2020#ronan lynch#adam parrish#pynch#ronan lynch/adam parrish#ronan/adam#trc#the raven cycle#cdth#call down the hawk#trc fic#trc fanfic#trc fanfiction#my writing#my fic#my posts#pynchpromptweek#cabeswater boyfriends#day one let's go!!!!#coffee shop romance babeyyyyy
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The Sun Will Rise (and we will try again)
@pynchpromptweek
Pynch // Prompt: Missing Scene // Rated: T, for discussion of intense topics
No archive warnings, exposition of bruising, demonic possession, and night terror injuries
Even the darkest night will end
AO3 Link
The Lynch Home bathroom was illuminated only by a dream on the sink counter. A sort of home grown nightlight. It looked like lightning bugs in a jar. Adam dragged Ronan into the dim bathroom and both of them collapsed against the cool tile floor, too exhausted to hold each other up any longer.
The black sludge on Ronan’s face seemed even darker and deeper in the dim and Adam had to look away or risk his stomach revolting. Again. Ronan swayed backwards and Adam barely got an arm around his waist before he fell. Adam had no idea what he was doing. His hands were shaking so badly that he couldn't keep a grip on Ronan's shirt and he'd stopped being able to feel his legs half an hour ago. Every time he caught a glimpse of his red wrists, he gagged and had to collect himself.
He didn't know how he managed to get Ronan's shirt off or how his knees were supporting him long enough to tug off his boots and socks, how his fingers could still on the clasps of Ronan's bracelets to take them off. But he did manage because that's what he fucking did. Adam Parrish figured shit out, especially in times of the worst fucking duress of his life. Jesus, less than a year ago, he was newly half deaf and alone in a hospital, and thought it'd never get worse than that.
"Come on, Lynch. Stand up again. I can’t just drop you in the shower in your jeans." He was torn between looking at Ronan's face for any sense of camaraderie and partnership and seeing the black shit that was still all over him. It was worse than Adam's wrists.
Ronan protested weakly, fingers scrabbling towards his bracelets like they were a life line he needed. And though Adam completely understood in the moment, he also knew Ronan had to get in the shower. He set them on the counter and grabbed Ronan’s hand instead. “Up, Lynch,” he ordered, hauling Ronan up with him.
A height difference that normally barely noticed was working against them as Ronan leaned heavily on Adam’s shoulder while Adam tried to undo the button and zipper of his jeans without sending them careening to the floor again.
“Move, Parrish. Got it. I got it,” Ronan finally muttered, swatting at Adam’s hands, one arm going to the counter to support himself while he got to fight with his jeans.
Adam took a shaky breath, watched him for a second, and then turned to get the shower started, stripping out of his shirt and pants too while he waited for it to warm and adjust. He wanted to bur his clothes and never look at them again and hated that it probably wasn’t a possibility since somehow they were still going to have to go to school and take classes and pretend that everything was okay because it felt like things were never going to be okay again.
“Adam,” Ronan said smally, and Adam turned in time to catch Ronan against his chest. His mind was a million miles away from the bare skin on his, his hands sliding over Ronan’s lower back and legs as he tried to half carry him into the shower. Ronan collapsed to the ground as soon as they were past the door, but that was fine, because the shower had a showerhead with a hose and Adam could bring it to Ronan. He grabbed a washcloth and kneeled in front of Ronan, smoothing a hand over Ronan’s arm until Ronan looked over at him. “Where’s Gansey?” he asked, voice weak and wrecked.
“He’s at the hospital with Blue. Remember, I drove all of us over there but you couldn’t go in because of your face. Blue’s gonna take him home. He’ll be with the psychics tonight,” Adam explained softly.
He gently wiped at Ronan’s face, scrubbing soap into the rag when he needed to. The sludge didn’t come off easy and Adam kept stopping every time Ronan’s skin turned red with scrubbing, so it was a long process. Ronan’s eyes were hazy or shut for most of it, not that he was trying to be a burden on Adam. Hell, two weeks ago, he was losing his fucking mind over Adam maybe wanting to hold his hand and now he had Adam piled into a shower with him.
But it was all wrong. Adam’s wrists were bruised and he was covered in dirt and rain and sweat and his eyes, usually so unbelievably bright and knowing and sharp, were red rimmed and exhausted. “I’m so sorry, Parrish,” he eventually said, eating an edge of the wash rag unintentionally.
Adam physically jolted in front of him and looked up at Ronan. “What? What could you possibly be sorry for? You didn't do anything If anything I should..." Adam’s words choked off and Ronan saw him look to the bruises around his throat before glancing away. Ronan had been going to let Adam kill him, without a second’s hesitation. It wasn’t even a question. And he knew he should be sorry for that. Sorry that Adam, who needed to control every single damn part of his life and his narrative, was taken over by something that Ronan and all this Greywarren bullshit had brought on him. Without Ronan, Adam would be safe working too late and sleeping too little and half living in an auto shop. Without Ronan, Adam would’ve never found a dream forest, would’ve never had a dream forest, to give himself over to.
Jesus, from the very beginning, Adam had been giving up his control for Ronan. To Ronan, if he wanted to read too deeply into the connection between him and Cabeswater.
And now it was missing from his head like a physical ache and he could tell by the way Adam’s fingers twitched towards a solution, a spirit that wasn’t there anymore, he felt it too. And it was all Ronan’s fucking fault.
“I should’ve done more,” he eventually said.
“"Ronan, you're...bleeding, or whatever, from your literal eyes. If you'd done anymore..." Adam cut himself off when he realized he was about to say 'I wouldn't still have you.' Instead, he pressed his hand over Ronan's ribs and then stood so quickly he almost fell over. Ronan reached for him, selfishly wanted to keep him there, keep him close.
But Adam just reached out of the shower to flick on the heater and then kneeled back down in front of him.
“Why are you wearing boxers if I have to be naked?” Ronan asked, going for anything to get Adam out of his own head, even though he was exhausted himself and wanted silence and Adam pressed up against him.
But it seemed to work because Adam blushed furiously and pointedly kept his eyes at Ronan’s chest and above. “My boxers cost a dollar a pair. Yours are designer.”
“They still go into the wash, Parrish. Calvin Klein made them with water in mind.”
Adam glared at him, but it was half hearted. Then he shifted and laid across the shower floor and Ronan followed, resting his head on Adam’s shoulder. The water pooled around them and they were both freezing in the cool air and their wet skin, but neither of them moved to get the hose put somewhere useful.
“You’re the first person to ever touch me like I’m in danger,” Ronan muttered softly. “And not the dangerous thing that needed to be controlled.”
“A demon crawled into my head and liked what it found, Lynch,” Adam muttered. “You’re not the dangerous one here.”
And wasn’t that the fucking kicker? Since the night terror and his wrists, everyone in his life--Gansey and Declan, really. That made his whole life--treated him like he was about to explode and hurt everyone around him. But that hadn’t ever been his goal. Hurting himself, fine. But not the people around him. (Except maybe Declan every now and then in a fist fight) But then the demon from his own quests and magical abilities decided Adam Parrish, unassuming and kind and smart and beautiful Adam Parrish, was the most dangerous player on the board.
And Ronan had seen why. It didn’t have anything to do with the biting comments and rash decisions Adam was so good at, or the quick temper he was slowly, so fucking slowly, learning to control, or the diabolical way his mind worked when he had a goal in mind. It was that everyone around Adam loved him and no one wanted to hurt him. The demon that undid all the light and goodness that Ronan made, saw Adam Parrish as the brightest light in his life and tried to snuff it out.
“I need to get your neck,” Adam said and sounded fucking terrified at the idea, so Ronan reached for his hand and worked the cloth free to scrub at his own neck. He could feel enough of the black shit to know when he was making progress and when he wasn’t and he kept the cloth between his skin and Adam’s eyeline so he couldn’t see the bruises.
“Done,” he said and his throat hurt even worse. He just wanted this night to be over. He doubted he’d feel any better tomorrow, but at least they’d have put time between themselves and the demon and the...loss. Jesus, it felt like insurmountable loss. His mother, Adam, Matthew, Cabeswater. Gansey.
“Where’s Gansey?” he asked and felt Adam turn his head to look over at him.
“He’s with Blue,” Adam said softly, worrying tinging his voice. He held onto Ronan’s hand tightly and moved them over his own chest so Ronan could feel his heartbeat. “We can call her if you want.”
Ronan shook his head roughly. “I want to go to bed,” he muttered.
It took several minutes for either one of them to think about sit up. It was too easy to just lay with each other on the cold tile and know that they were alive and as safe as could be.
“Your eyelashes are so long,” Adam muttered eventually.
Ronan’s eyes fluttered open--he hadn’t even realized he’d shut them--and he looked at Adam intently. “They’re not that long,” he muttered. “Your eyes are so fuckin’ blue.”
“They’re not that blue,” Adam teased, leaning his forehead against Ronan’s temple. Ronan could feel him grow more serious in the next seconds. “I’m so sorry about what happened.”
“I am too, Parrish. But...it’s not on either of us. And I know it don’t feel true right now and maybe we don’t want to hear it, but it’s not our fault.”
Adam nodded softly and rubbed his hand over Ronan’s chest gently. “It's not our fault," he agreed. "It's not any of ours fault. It was fated from the beginning. We were meant to all be there. Gansey in Henry's coat and Blue with her curse and me and you there to sway Cabeswater's sacrifice. It had to happen like this. Nothing we did would've changed it. Blue and I saw it in Cabeswater, in that tree.”
Ronan swallowed and held his hand over Adam’s, clumsily lacing their fingers. “This shit in my mouth tastes like literal fucking death,” he said, and a second later, Adam was passing over the shower head for him to rinse his mouth out with.
They had to awkwardly sit up, slick skin sliding on the wet floor, feet and knees and elbows finding body parts along the way. Ronan washed out his mouth and then hosed himself down again, just in case they’d missed something that had dripped into his clothes, even tried to clean his ears out, though that may have to wait until tomorrow.
He turned off the water and shakily got to his feet, pulling Adam up with him. Without saying anything, they crashed into each other, hugging each other tight enough that their ribs ached.
Adam reached for the towel on the door of the shower and dried them off, moving between their bodies like they were the same person. He dried off his own hair last and then kicked his soaking boxers off. Ronan stayed as modest as Adam had, but only because there were dark bruises along Adam’s waist and thighs, from the demon thrashing Adam’s body around in the car, that kept him distracted.
They stayed wrapped around each other as they made their way to the bedroom, pulled on some of Ronan’s boxers, and fell into bed together.
“Where’s…” Ronan started, before he relaxed in the warm blankets. Hospital. Blue. Psychics. They were all alive and okay. He’d call Declan tomorrow, give him a more in depth explanation than what Adam got out in broken pants and choked off sobs earlier on the drive home. “It’s over,” he muttered. Glendower, Noah’s painful fits, the demon, Cabeswater. “It’s all really over.”
“It can only get better,” Adam pointed out a little drily.
Ronan curled an arm around Adam’s waist and pulled him close. He was never letting go.
#pynch#pynchpromptweek#adam parrish#ronan lynch#the raven cycle#fanfiction#writing#otp: in more than his lips
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Late to the party in an embarrassing manner, but I did write something for the @pynchpromptweek, in TRC/CDTH Prompt Week edition of 2020!
Jordan/Declan - Tattoo AU + Non-Magical AU
Click ahead on Ao3 for some intense yearning <3
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Jordeclan fic for day three of TRC/CDTH Prompt Week 2020
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I have an idea that might make this easier for you.” Jordan popped the first button of her shirt. “Mutual nudity.” She dazzled him with a devious smile. “Artist and subject.”- aka, Jordan comes up with a creative way to convince Declan to do some nude modeling for some figure drawing practice.
@potterholic1999 This was your request!
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Happy holidays!! Here’s my Pynch Secret Santa for @literallylen! Some soft wintery fluff set between The Raven King and Call Down The Hawk. Hope you like it, Len!
And a special thank you to @pynchpromptweek for hosting! You guys rock!
#pynch secret santa 2019#pynchpromptweek#pynch#adam parrish#ronan lynch#the raven cycle art#the raven cycle#the raven boys#the dreamer trilogy#call down the hawk#trc#tdt#cdth#minor spoilers#tdt spoilers#cdth spoilers#art#fanart#my art
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Hello!” Adam looked up, startled out of his theories about Aglionby social life. “You’re Parrish, right?”
Adam recognized the other boy - he was the only other eighth-grader new to Aglionby. He looked just as rich and not-Henrietta as the rest of the school, but for some reason he seemed excited to be talking to Adam.
“Yeah,” Adam said cautiously. “Cheng?” He knew Cheng’s first name was Henry, but using last names seemed to be an Aglionby thing.
“That’s me! Mind if I join you?”
“Um. Sure.”
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AU where Adam and Henry meet in 8th grade, and Seondeok and Mr. Gray got their shit together sooner.
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Little late, but this is kidfic for day 5 of @pynchpromptweek . Many thanks to @galwaygremlin for betaing this as well as my other prompt week fics!
This also happens to be some backstory for my TRC Big Bang fic.
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it might be cold outside, but i don’t feel it
hello! here is my gift to @two-of-swords-621 for @pynchpromptweek secret santa! they asked for dream-barn-chore shenanigans so here’s some of that, christmas themed. :) enjoooyyy.
pairing: adam parrish/ronan lynch
words: 3599
summary:
Ronan has shanghaied Adam into helping get the Lynch Christmas decorations out of storage and there are endless boxes to go through, and likely a number of dreamthings within reach. He’s currently peering down into a scuffed plastic tub on the floor, apprehension and uncertainty laced through his fair eyebrows. He gives it a wary, gentle kick with the toe of his boot, the contents making a disgruntled clattering sound.
follow the link ! 🎄
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This is my gift to @squash1-squash2 for 2019 Pynch Secret Santa organized by @pynchpromptweek
Hope you enjoy it!!
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@pynchpromptweek is back, and so am I! #^_^# Technically, it’s TRC/DT prompt week, but the account is still Pynch prompt week, and I’m all about Pynch anyway, so!
Day 2: Hurt/Comfort
So, this is not my favorite subject. I prefer comfort. Comfort. Comfort! So, I made sure that the hurt was coming from other places, and not from one of the boys toward the other. There’s no hurting each other allowed in this house right now!
#pynchpromptweek#trc#lgbt#manga#pynch#ronan lynch#adam parrish#the raven cycle#cdth#call down the hawk
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[Ronan Lynch / Adam Parrish] Rated T | 2.2k
↳ Hurt & Comfort for Day 2 of @pynchpromptweek
“The black stuff, it’s nightwash.”
“Where’d you find that out?” The sleep is there in Adam’s voice, but there’s curiosity, too.
“I didn’t,” Ronan hums into the pillow. “I made it up. Just now.” He leans his head back until he can feel Adam there, too. “Sounds scary right? Kinda sexy.”
Adam rolls his eyes, not that Ronan can see it, but he can definitely sense it. “Okay. Nightwash, then.” He shifts again, back to how he was positioned before. Typical. “Now you know what to call it when you make it stop.”
>> continue reading on AO3
#please appreciate the first quadrant im pretty happy with that find lol#pynch#ronan lynch/adam parrish#ronan/adam#ronan lynch#adam parrish#trc#the raven cycle#cdth#call down the hawk#trc fic#trc fanfic#trc fanfiction#my writing#my fic#trc/cdth prompt week#pynchpromptweek#i had a watch pun in here but I cut it out you're all welcome
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Wasting No Time
Yay it’s pynch secret santa gift exchange time! My secret santa giftee is @alliwannadoiswrite :) They wanted some canon stuff, with college, the Barns, domestic fluff, Adam being psychic, among other things :) This does have spoilers for Call Down the Hawk! So if you haven’t read it yet, I would not suggest reading this until after you have!
So I tried my best to weave all of these things in. I hope you like it. Happy Holidays! Thanks to @pynchpromptweek for getting this together :D
Adam couldn’t stop thinking about Ronan. This had become something common in the past year that they had almost been officially together. Being with Ronan and loving Ronan was something that had consumed Adam unexpectedly, and wholly. He did not regret one thing about it though. The languid summer nights that they had spent together before Adam went up to Cambridge, were some of the best memories Adam will ever have, and he cherished them greatly.
He also loved college life too. He had made his group of friends surprisingly quickly and found he cherished their friendship more than he anticipated. Though there was still plenty of room for their growth, and he knew he could never compare them to his friends back home. It was impossible to given the circumstances. But he now had given them a brief introduction to his other side, the world of magical forests, and demons, and boyfriends who had the power to take things out of his dreams. Their feet were in the door, and Adam was still hesitating on whether he should push them through or push them out and shut, lock the door and hide the key. Fletcher was still recovering from the trashed dorm room filled with dream crabs with human teeth, and a motorcycle that shouldn’t work but did. He did his best to hide it, but Adam knew that things had fundamentally changed between them. Adam was still trying to figure out if it was for better or worse.
Adam enjoyed most of his classes, though taking the ones that were gen ed requirements was sometimes like pulling teeth. His professors were all just a little bit quirky, but they all meant well. The coursework was challenging and stimulating, something that Adam used as a great distraction when his thoughts got too wild. The food wasn’t great, but Adam did not have high expectations. Anything would be better than what he lived off of growing up in Henrietta. He was thankful that he could have a steady three meals every day. Something he made sure to take advantage of no matter how busy he got. He would make the most of the thousands of dollars that meal plans cost; even with a full ride. And especially since he had to make up for the damage done to his dorm room.
Adam had tried to go on the next few weeks like everything was normal. Even if a nagging voice in the back of his mind constantly reminded him that no, everything was not fine. He watched as the leaves change color as autumn came in full swing. For the first time, he really felt what it meant for winter to be lurking around the corner. It was only early November, but Cambridge already had its first flurry of the year. That had come as a bit of a surprise to Adam, who wasn’t expecting any snow until at least after Christmas. After Halloween, the temperature seemed to drop twenty degrees, as if Mother Nature was antsy to get on with winter and leave autumn behind. He had found a Columbia jacket in one of the many thrift stores he and Gillian frequented in great condition, and bought it for himself at the advice of her. Gillian who had grown up in Saratoga Springs, New York, knew about cold winters.
Midterms were closing in on Adam faster than he thought. It felt as if he were just moving into his dorm yesterday, sweating through his shirt helping his roommate, and future friend Fletcher, move a mini-fridge up three flights of stairs in the middle of August. But even the summers in Cambridge were not nearly as bad, thanks to it being close to the Charles River and Boston Harbor. Unlike Henrietta which was landlocked deep in western Virginia in the Shenandoah Valley.
He was sitting in the library preparing for his big quiz he had to take tomorrow morning. Even with half of his hearing permanently missing, Adam still found the library restless. There were too many people in one place, who had the same idea as he did. Doing the last minute cramming for midterms they had coming up. But with too many people, and running into friends and colleagues, it turned to striking conversations, and then being too loud. Adam wished he had been able to book a study corral, but those went faster than hot concert tickets here. Even if the library had been completely silent, it wouldn’t have helped his own thoughts that seemed to be screaming.
He had attempted to scry this morning, feeling something just a bit off. The session wasn’t very successful, so he tried pulling some tarot cards. Adam was thankful Fletcher was such a heavy sleeper. The cards he pulled weren’t exactly worrisome to Adam, but he wasn’t exactly happy with the outcome either. It also did not help that Ronan seemed to be a little more elusive than usual. Adam hoped he wasn’t finding himself into too much danger. He couldn’t stop thinking about who this Bryde character was, and what they were doing with Ronan. Adam wanted to know more about him.
Finally, Adam huffed and closed his books. He glanced at the watch that Ronan had given him as a gift. Thankfully they were both in the same time zone, so the time displayed was accurate. Adam did the mental calculations quickly to see if he could swing the crazy idea that had formed in his head last night. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was still early in the day.
“Screw it,” he muttered to himself.
He practically swept all his books off the table and into his backpack and darted out of the library. He shoved the code into his door and rushed in. Fletcher was on his bed reading a book and he startled.
“Adam! What’s got you in a big hurry?” he asked.
Adam didn’t respond for a moment and was too busy replacing the books with some clothes, and other necessities because you never know. When he zipped his backpack up, he finally looked at Fletcher.
“Going home to visit Ronan,” he responded.
Fletcher’s mouth dropped and his eyes widened. “Like right now? Adam, we have a presentation tomorrow morning!”
Adam nodded. “Yeah, I know.”
Fletcher sputtered for a moment before shaking his head. “How are you getting all the way to Virginia?”
Adam shrugged his shoulders. “The motorcycle.”
“The motorcycle? Do you even have a helmet? Do you even know how to ride it?” he exclaimed.
“I’ll learn on the way. I promise, I’ll be there for Alexander’s class tomorrow,” Adam replied.
Fletcher murmured something under his breath and then heaved himself off the bed. Adam watched as he dug around in his closet for something and came out with a helmet. He tossed it to Adam who caught it.
“Doesn’t exactly go with the aesthetic, but my Vespa's helmet is better than no helmet. Also wear that leather jacket that Gill and you bought, it’s insulated. And wear gloves! Adam, your hands will be exposed. It’s cold out, and I don’t want you getting frostbite.”
Adam had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at his roommate’s dramatics but did as he was told anyway. He yanked the brown leather jacket and put it on over his t-shirt he was wearing. Adam didn’t own any actual gloves, but he did have a pair of gardening gloves he used when working in the greenhouse for his botany club he joined, thanks to his proctor who also ran the club. They would have to do.
“Okay, I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow!” Adam said as he ran out of the room with his helmet in tow.
“Be careful!” Fletcher called out after him.
Adam ran out of the building and went towards the place where he had hidden the illegal and impossible motorcycle. Adam didn’t even have a proper license for this, and he would just have to hope no cops pulled him over. He took his phone out of his pocket, just to make sure he was still good for time. And a small part of him hoped that Ronan had texted him something, anything. No cigar for that though.
“Ronan, you better be there,” he muttered before plugging in his headphones that Ronan dreamt for him and turning on a queue of audio files that had all his lectures on. Just because he made a whimsical decision based on slight psychic intuition did not mean his academic studies went on the back burner.
He looked down at the motorcycle that was between his legs. How hard could this possibly be? He knew the guts of these as well as he knew his own hand, thanks to working as a mechanic for most of his young life. He turned it on and hit the throttle a little to test it out. He lurched forward unexpectedly, and he let out a yelp. Finally, he got some semblance of control and made his way down.
There were definitely a few close calls, and he had nearly fallen a few times trying to get used to the motor underneath him. Thankfully the highway didn’t seem too busy even for a Sunday. He made it back to the Barns in good time, with the sun just over its zenith for the day. He pulled into the Barns but was hit with a sense of dread and unpleasantness. Adam couldn’t think straight, but it was eerily reminiscent to when Cabeswater was being unmade due to the demon that had been unleashed thanks to the Greenmantles. But Adam pushed through and when he left whatever invisible barrier that was there, it felt as if he was breathing properly after being underwater for too long. He still wanted to have the element of surprise for Ronan though and pulled up only halfway to the driveway. He cut the engine and made his way up by foot and snuck in through the back door. Adam knew Ronan was home because the BMW was in the driveway, but he didn’t know if he would be out in the fields or in the house.
Adam had made his way into the kitchen and saw Ronan. His first reaction was relief at seeing his boyfriend but then surprise at seeing the handgun being leveled at him by said boyfriend. Adam put his hands up.
“Jesus, Ronan, it’s me!” he exclaimed. He turned on the kitchen light so he could get a better look. He took off the helmet and tucked it under his arm, still eyeing the gun in Ronan’s hand. “You know how to take a surprise well.”
It had taken Adam back that Ronan seemed to be paranoid about something. He didn’t trust that Adam was really who he was. But he was just glad to be home and close to Ronan again. He had only talked to Ronan on the phone the night before, but it seemed so far away. When they hugged, Adam wrapped his arms tightly around Ronan and made sure to revel in this. How much he missed Ronan’s warmth, and how much he loved it too. He felt the thrumming of the ley line under his feet, the magic of the Barns and the man who lived in it. It made Adam feel alive in a way he didn’t at Harvard, no matter how much he liked it there. He made sure to wish Ronan an early happy birthday. Even if he only had three hours to spare here, he would make good use of every second.
He did not expect things to take such a sharp turn as they did. He had been thinking about Bryde, and he wanted to see what was up with him. What he did not expect was something too bright and horrible that words could not even begin to describe it. Adam had never seen or even felt anything like it before. Not even when he was being possessed by the Demon. It had shaken Adam a bit to find out that his heart had actually stopped beating for a moment when he was snapped back into his mind thanks to Ronan’s talon knife. It had been like a dream; he couldn’t possibly remember all the details but was left feeling even more uneasy than before. Normally, he was able to remember his scrying sessions with great detail. The fact that he couldn’t was worrisome to Adam. Something big was moving, and he didn’t know what. But it seemed to be aiming for Ronan and anyone associated with him. Which included Adam.
They both sat on the cold tile floor of the master bathroom. Ronan had gotten the first aid kit and was slowly cleaning the wound that had been inflicted on his hand. The antiseptic burned a little, but he let Ronan continue.
“Parrish, what the fuck did you see?” Ronan asked again.
Adam had remained silent for a while. The images though he could not properly articulate them, and could not fully remember them, still seemed to be burned in the back of his eyelids every time he blinked. Adam shook his head.
“I-I don’t know Ronan,” Adam said. His voice was hoarse, and his throat sore from letting out a guttural scream he didn’t recall doing.
“Whatever you saw, it made you scream as if you were dying. Adam, your heart literally stopped beating!” Ronan exclaimed.
Adam glared up at where Ronan sat on the toilet bowl lid. Of course, Adam knew that when he came to it felt as if his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. It felt as if he hadn’t breathed in years.
“I know, Lynch. I can’t describe it. It’s like a fading dream. But I know it wasn’t Bryde.”
“How do you know though?” Ronan asked.
He was still trying to stop the bleeding from the cuts that went all the way up his hand and arm. He dabbed a little more of the antiseptic on a cotton swab and gently rubbed it to sterilize. Adam let out a hiss. Ronan grunted, as his way of saying sorry. Adam took in a deep breath and let out a long exhale.
“I just know. It was dark, and it felt almost similar to the demon’s energy. But stronger?” he tried to explain.
Ronan’s eyes looked up from Adam’s arm and to Adam’s eyes. His eyebrows pinched and his lips formed a scowl.
“Stronger than the demon? Parrish, what the fuck does that mean?” he demanded.
Adam threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “I don’t know Lynch! This entire situation just seems messed up. You’re seeing doppelgangers of your mother, and hearing voices in your dream that cause them to be uncontrollable? The energy I’ve been feeling when I scried and even when I pull cards feels off. Something weird is happening, and I think it’s bigger than just you and me.”
Ronan just let out a growl of frustration and didn’t push the subject any further. Which Adam was glad for. He didn't want this to ruin the small amount of time they had together. He wasted enough of it digging into things that he didn’t know the first thing about. Adam watched silently as Ronan finished cleaning his wounds and carefully wrapped bandages around it. When he was finished Ronan washed his hands and walked out. Adam followed.
Ronan was standing by the large window in the master bedroom. The sun was setting, casting long shadows and the bright glow of the evening sun. Ronan’s body was tensed up, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Adam padded up quietly next to him and forced his hand to intertwine with Ronan’s.
“This is fucked,” Ronan finally said.
Adam did not disagree. “Yeah, it is. But we’ll find a way through it.”
Ronan turned his attention from the outside world and gave it to Adam. Adam would always be grateful for Ronan and the unconditional love he had given Adam when Adam had never been offered it. Adam was already meeting Ronan halfway when it came to that. The sunlit up half of Ronan’s face while covering the other half in shadows. The light made his ice irises even more stunning than usual. His lips were in the usual scowl, but somehow it was softer.
“How do you know?” he wondered.
Adam squeezed his hand. “Because we’re stronger together.”
He watched as Ronan did his smoker’s breath and closed his eyes for a long moment. When he opened them back, Adam put a hand behind his head, feeling the bristles of the shaved hair and rubbed his thumb back and forth. He watched as Ronan’s pupils dilated, and gently pulled him down for a kiss. Ronan was more than happy to oblige Adam’s request. After a few moments, Adam released. He smirked at his boyfriend.
“Now, we only have a few hours. And I did say I needed to take your clothes off, so since we’re here…” he teased, leaving the rest for Ronan to figure out.
Ronan let out a harsh bark of laughter and rolled his eyes. He gently pushed Adam’s head away, which elicited a laugh from Adam.
“Parrish, you fucker.”
Adam grabbed Ronan by the collar of his t-shirt and dragged him to the bed before pushing him down. Adam then climbed on top of Ronan.
“Well, that’s kind of the point isn’t it?” he asked with a smirk.
“Not what I meant, shithead,” Ronan growled.
“Let’s not waste any more time, Lynch. I’m on a tight schedule.”
Ronan scoffed but pulled Adam down and into a deep kiss.
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In Any Version of Reality (i'd find you and i'd choose you)
@pynchpromptweek
Pynch // Prompt: Alternate Meeting // Rated: T for mature themes
Warnings: Discussion of canon typical abuse and night terror injuries several times, discussion of blood, death, and trauma
AO3 Link
In which:
Adam and Ronan meet over and over again
It might’ve happened like this: 16
Ronan Lynch was quitting the tennis team but still had to go to practices for the semester. So he was particularly angry when he realized he was in pain and his nose was gushing blood during said practice.
“I’m going home,” he said, in the particular surly way sixteen year old boys, but particularly Ronan Lynch, had.
His coach grabbed him by the gym shirt and hauled him to the nurse’s office anyway. “Sit down, shut up, and behave,” the man ordered and disappeared around a corner to explain to the school nurse what had happened.
Ronan wasn’t paying attention because in front of him, the most beautiful boy he’d ever seen was organizing supplies and cross checking some log. He saw the boy look up at him and knew he was talking because his mouth was moving but Ronan didn’t hear any of it.
“I don’t know, a bandaid?” he ventured eventually.
The boy raised a fine eyebrow. “A bandaid did that to your face? Here.” He handed Ronan a gauze ball and showed him how to apply pressure properly without hurting himself too much. Ronan assumed there were verbal instructions too, but he couldn’t hear them over the roar of his heart.
“It’s Ronan, right?” the boy asked, familiar words breaking through Ronan’s stupor.
“Yeah. Ronan Lynch,” he answered. “Who are you?”
The boy grinned a little shyly and shrugged. “I’m new. I’m only a nurse aid until I can take my entrance exam for Latin II. I transferred over and they won’t just let me join my cohort.”
“You’re a sophomore?” Ronan asked, excitement bubbling in his chest because he was a sophomore in Latin II which meant he’d see a lot more of the new kid.
“Yeah, yeah, I transferred at the break. My name’s Adam. Adam Parrish,” he said, and held out a perfect hand.
Ronan shook it.
It might’ve happened like this: 15
Ronan was sitting in a hospital hallway, scratching at the thick bandages around his forearms while Declan filled out paperwork down the hall and Gansey tried to prove he wasn’t beside himself with worry by buying too much from the vending machine in the next wing.
He wasn’t expecting a boy his age to sit down next to him in the uncomfortable plastic chairs, a blue cast all the way to his elbow.
“Hey,” Ronan said.
“Hey,” the kid greeted. He had light hair and sad eyes and Ronan already wanted to take him home like he was some lost puppy.
Like Ronan wasn’t the lost puppy at the moment.
“Sitting over here feels like sitting at the kids table at holidays, huh?” Ronan said.
The kid shrugged. “Wouldn’t know. I don’t have a lot of extended family.”
“What happened to your arm?”
“What happened to yours?”
Ronan scowled but the kid didn’t seem like he was easily cowed. “I sleep walk. I hurt myself doing it.” Which wasn’t...a lie lie. It was...an untruth.
The kid glanced at a man at the receptionist’s desk and grimaced. “I fell down the stairs.” And Ronan knew that was a lie lie.
“Well, I hope you get less clumsy,” Ronan said anyway.
“Could say the same to you.”
“Yeah, it wouldn’t do either of us very much good, would it?” Ronan asked.
The kid looked at him, appraising and tired and then he shrugged. “Probably not.”
“My name’s Ronan,” Ronan said.
“Adam, let’s go,” the man from the receptionist’s desk barked, and Adam jumped up so fast he might’ve knocked over the bolted down chairs.
“I’ll see you around, Ronan,” Adam said.
But they didn’t.
It might’ve happened like this: 22
Gansey was having a field day with this whole scenario. Ronan hated him for it. But probably not as much as he hated himself for agreeing to it. Then again, the check sitting on his kitchen table--a down payment, no less--was enough for him to forgo hatred for a while.
He watched the studio trailers drive in like little white ants. They set up a perimeter where they wanted to work and Ronan watched horse trailers get unloaded and set up in old barns and cameras set up in empty fields.
The first person to approach him was a dusty man with dusty hair and dusty skin and bright eyes. “Hey, sir, sorry to bother you,” he greeted, all Virginia charm and hick. “But I was wonderin’ if I might be able to use a spare room. The talent don’t show up until tomorrow and we’re a bed short without our full camper caravan. Uh, they told me to remind you the house is part of the contract.”
Ronan scowled and the man grinned cheerily back. “You’re not an actor, right?” Ronan asked.
The man paused, head almost ticking to the side. “Like I said, sir, the talent’ll show up tomorrow.”
Ronan grumbled and turned around to let the man in, detouring to the kitchen to pour him coffee.
“Wow, you better not let anyone else know you make the good stuff,” the man said with a laugh, sipping at the drink even though it was hot and he cringed every time. “They’ll come raid your whole place for a good cup.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Ronan said drily. He sat down at his dining table and the man followed. “It’s Ronan.”
“Adam,” the man said.
Ronan eyed him suspiciously. “Isn’t the lead actor on this project Adam Parrish?”
Again, the man’s eyebrows rose a little and Ronan got the complete sense that he was being studied. “You don’t know what Adam Parrish looks like?”
“Does he look like you?” Ronan asked.
The man’s mouth quirked into a smirk and he leaned back in the chair. “Nah, Adam Parrish is a movie star,” he said, like Ronan hadn’t just said the same thing. “I’m just trailer trash.”
“Are you making a joke about your campers or divulging life information on me?”
The man shrugged. “Why not both? You really don’t know who Adam Parrish is?”
Ronan shook his head and took too large a swallow of his drink, making a face as it burned his throat. “I don’t have a TV. I prefer to read.” Every single one of his high school teachers would’ve begged to differ, but a lot could happen in five years. “And my friends aren’t big into movies either.”
“Yeah, but he’s on all the magazine covers,” the man tried.
“Do I look like a middle aged housewife? I ain’t reading People and US Weekly.”
Adam hummed and nodded. “He’s a good guy, people say. Don’t be too mean to him.”
“Who, Parrish?” Ronan asked. “Didn’t he win a bunch of Oscars the other year or something?”
“Well, there was only one solo award. The rest was ensemble awards. Best Movie and all that. Besides, even winning Best Actor means he had a good director and supporting cast, y’know.”
“You don’t sound like a fan,” Ronan said.
The man choked on a laugh and shrugged again. “Guess I just know how much teamwork goes into a movie, is all.”
“How come an Oscar winner wants to come do some campy western all the way out here?”
The man leaned forward conspiratorially. “I heard he’s always wanted to be a cowboy. Even took horse riding lessons with his first check. Besides, he’s from out here. This town I think.”
“There’s no way Henrietta made some movie star and I’ve never heard of him,” Ronan objected. There were many ways that he’d never heard of him, but that was besides the point.
The man shrugged. “Too many schools out here. Easy to miss someone.” Then, tripping over himself to explain, he said, “We did a lot of scouting of the region.”
Ronan shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. Is Parrish playing the werewolf? Is he a cowboy-werewolf?” he asked.
Adam laughed and shrugged. “Who’s to say. You might just have to go watch this movie.”
Ronan rolled his eyes and stood up. “Come on, let me show you to the spare room. The closet is stocked with blankets and pillows. Bathroom’s connected. It’s a Jack-And-Jill, but no one’s in the other room. And I guess if you don’t tell anyone, you can help yourself to the fridge.”
Adam grinned at him and held out his hand. “I think we’re gonna get along great, Ronan.”
Ronan rolled his eyes but shook Adam’s hand. He had a cowboy’s handshake, or at least what Ronan assumed a cowboy’s handshake would feel like, warm, firm, calloused. A lifetime of work behind it.
“Whatever, just let me know if you need help clearing property or something.”
The man grinned, crooked and beautiful. “Sure thing, sir.”
Ronan left him to do whatever he wanted and by the time he got downstairs, there were three more people at his door.
“Jesus Christ, what do you all want?” he snapped.
Someone with a clipboard blinked up at him. “Uh, we were told Parrish came over here? He’s got a light check in five minutes.”
Ronan frowned and shook his head. “No, I’ve just got one of you crew guys up here. I thought Parrish wasn’t coming in until tomorrow.”
Behind the guy with the clipboard, a woman smacked her palm into her forehead. “Jesus. Is this crew guy’s name Adam by any chance?”
“Wait,” said clipboard guy, “you don’t know who Adam Parrish is?”
Ronan’s stomach dropped out from under him. “Why are you asking me like that?”
“I told all of you I’d be there on time,” Adam said from behind them. He put his hand on the small of Ronan’s back to slip by him. “I know how to read a time schedule.”
“You really didn’t know this was Adam Parrish? And he introduced himself to you as Adam?” clipboard guy repeated, pointing up at Adam.
Adam smiled bashfully. “Sorry. It was just so nice to talk to someone who didn’t know who I was,” he said. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
Ronan blushed furiously as Adam Parrish was herded away.
As it turns out, he did go see the movie. At the premier, on Adam Parrish’s arm.
It might’ve happened like this: 18
It was the dead of night and Ronan had followed the only flicker of light across down in a truck that was wheezing its last breath. He’d (barely) graduated highschool and immediately decided to never take another class in his life and start a farm instead.
Only he hadn’t expected all the old trucks his father had owned to be on their last leg and completely useless for hauling wood and supplies. So here he was, half pushing the truck into Boyd’s garage. He’d driven past the old bays a thousand and one times but had never gone in. The BMW drove like a dream and so he’d never had reason to. Until now.
A tall man came out of the far bay, wiping his hands on a towel, and appraised the truck in the dark. “Sorry, I’m not gonna be able to get to it until the morning,” he said and Ronan’s toes curled at his voice.
“That’s alright. I just couldn’t leave it on the side of the road,” he said. “And risking the engine to get it here was better than calling a tow truck.”
“You need a ride home?” the guy asked. “I was just gettin’ ready to lock up.”
Ronan weighed his options, between calling Gansey and taking a ride from a stranger. A stranger with really nice hands.
“I could use a ride.”
The guy grinned at him and hooked something up to the front of the truck to finish pulling it into the bay. “Might not get to this one until tomorrow evening, if that’s alright. We’ve got a full garage right now. Lots of minivans getting ready for summer vacations.”
Ronan snorted and shrugged. “Guess I can’t argue. Ain’t like I can take it anywhere else.”
“That’s true. You’re a captive audience. I’m over here,” he said, nodding to a Franken-Car. “Just give me half a second to lock down the doors.” The guy ducked into a bay and pulled all the garage doors down until Boyd’s was just a black shape against the night sky, and then he came out of the front office, and locked the door.
“What name should I put down on the paperwork?” he asked as he piled into the ugly car. With a dubious look at the hood, Ronan followed.
“I’m Ronan.”
“Good to meet you, Ronan. I’m Adam. Where am I taking you?”
And if people saw movement in the yellow glow of Boyd’s second bay the next night, bodies tangling together and coming apart, it wasn’t any of their business.
It might’ve happened like this: 13
Ronan sat in an uncomfortable chair outside of a boring cubicle and tried not to think about how Delcan was curled around Matthew in a kid’s playroom of the foster agency building and Ronan would be more than welcome. Nothing about the past twenty four hours felt childlike. He didn’t feel childlike anymore.
The image of his father laying in the driveway and no one else around the pool of blood was imprinted on Ronan’s brain forever. He was never going to be okay again.
Shouting made Ronan lift his head. In the attached wing of the building, a man was shouting obscenities and a female social worker led a boy away from him, shielding the kid with her body as they waited for doors to unlock.
The boy was small, but Ronan’s age, he could tell by the way his hair hung in his eyes and the uneven knobs of his elbows. He was growing into his body the same way Ronan was. Puberty camaraderie was a thing. The woman came into the children’s wing, murmuring reassurances to the boy and petting his hair. The man who’d brought Ronan, Declan, and Matthew in had done nothing of the sort.
“Here, Mr. Adam. Sit here with Ronan for a little while while we get paperwork sorted out for you.”
Up close, Ronan could see the kid was bruised all to hell and he moved gingerly as he sat down beside Ronan. He hugged his arms against his chest and didn’t glance at Ronan until Ronan nudged his foot against the kid’s.
“Your name’s Adam?” he asked, and ignored how his voice wobbled a little bit.
The kid nodded. “And you’re Ronan. What kind of name is that?”
“It’s Irish,” Ronan said. Normally he had a whole spiel about his name, but just thinking about his dad made his throat seize up and he couldn’t give it.
“Who did that to you?” Ronan asked.
“Who do you think?” Adam asked, nodding at the name of the foster agency on the wall.
“What’s gonna happen to you?” Because they both seemed like sensible guys who knew what this building meant.
Adam shrugged. “I guess they’re trying to call my aunts and uncles, but I don’t think I have any.”
“I don’t either,” Ronan said. “They said they had to read my Dad’s will.”
Adam grimaced next to him. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“I am too. About your face.”
“Do you want to stay here?” Adam asked.
Ronan nodded quickly. “It’s home. I want to go home!” he said a little louder, to no reaction from the caseworker next to them. “What about you?” he asked, when he’d settled down. “Do you want to stay.”
Adam shook his head. “I hate this town.”
“Well,” Ronan said, sitting back. “I hope you get out.”
At the same time, the door opened and a wild haired woman--white hair, down to her waist--rushed in. “My name is Persephone. I’m here for Adam.”
Adam and Ronan looked at each other.
“Do you know here?” Ronan asked out of the corner of his mouth.
Adam shook his head. “I’ve never seen her before in my life.”
“That’s alright,” the woman said from across the way, no way she could’ve heard them. “I know you, Adam.”
“Ronan Lynch, we’ve got everything squared away with the school. They’ll have dorms for you and your brothers by this evening,” the caseworker next to them said with a cheery smile that belonged nowhere near the situation.
Ronan and Adam stood up together.
“Sounds like we’re both staying here,” Adam said.
“And neither of us is getting what we want,” Ronan replied.
The boys sighed and Adam held out an arm with a nasty friction burn on it, fingers curled in a fist. “Maybe we’ll see each other again,” he suggested.
Ronan knocked his knuckles against Adam’s. “Yeah, maybe.”
And they did.
It might’ve happened like this: 17
Ronan pulled up to the red light with a rev of his engine. The Mitsu revved back. For once, Kavinsky’s windows were tinted and he didn’t roll down the window to leer at Ronan, but he knew Kavinsky’s Mitsu, the spoiler and the decal and all the gaudy ugliness of it all.
The light changed and the cars were off.
But something was wrong. Kavinsky didn’t stall like he always did and he didn’t let up on the first turn, like he always did. He did tear through the next yellow light, making Ronan continue the chase. And another. And another, far longer than Kavinsky had ever raced before. The longer they drove, the less sure Ronan got of himself until he hesitated at a two-way and the Mitsu kept going, screeching to a halt in a cul-de-sac. The BMW sadly roared in a second later.
Ronan jumped out of the BMW, fuming and angry and embarrassed. He had to beat the shit out of Kavinsky so he’d think it was just a dream or something. Instead, though, he came up short when someone other than Kavinsky folded himself out of the Mitsu. And it wasn’t anyone else in the immediate Dream-Pack either. It was a tall kid with a blonde hair, tanned skin, a bruised cheek, and a taunting grin.
“I don’t know how K hasn’t done that to you before,” the guy gloated as he strode over to Ronan. “He made it seem like you were a racer and you’re not anything more than he is.”
Ronan fumed and stepped up to the guy. He had an inch or two on him, but it was nothing like the advantage he had on other guys he fought. As it was, before Ronan could lift a hand, the blond held up a finger, then pointed down the street where the rest of the Dream-Pack was turning.
“I won’t tell if you won’t,” he said and climbed into the passenger side of the BMW.
Shocked, Ronan followed on autopilot, getting back into the driver’s seat. “If you win this one,” the guy said, “I’ll blow you on the drive back.”
“Who are you?” Ronan demanded, turning to look at the guy, a blush high on his cheeks.
The other man grinned at him. “You don’t recognize me, huh? Name’s Parrish. We have Bio together.”
Right, fuck. The scholarship kid with the grease on his hands.
“Did you rig the Mitsu to do that?” Ronan asked. “At the shop or whatever?”
Parrish laughed, head thrown back, mean and biting. “Hell no. Kavinsky doesn’t have a clue what to do with all the firepower under that hood. I do.”
“You do?” Ronan repeated.
“I’m good with my hands,” Parrish said and then nodded to the line of cars around them. “Drive and you’ll find out.”
Ronan drove.
It might’ve happened like this: 18
Matthew somehow had friends at Mountain View High and had begged Ronan to take him to see them play in their baseball game. Aglionby’s baseball team sucked. Mountain View, it turned out, did not. Most of their success, Ronan thought, could be contributed to the fact that Aglionby hadn’t managed to get a single hit off of MVH’s pitcher.
If Ronan managed to find a stray dog to play with near the bullpen while he was warming up, or happened to be chilling next to the home team dug out when he wasn’t batting, that was no one’s business. After the game, after Matthew had disappeared with his friends, after the stands had cleared, the boy emerged from the dugout, dragging equipment with him.
“Hey,” Ronan said, pretending like he hadn’t been waiting around. “Need help?”
“Why am I not surprised that you’re still around, Raven Boy?” the kid asked, a scowl coming to his pink mouth. “Need help finding the parking lot?”
Ronan rolled his eyes and reached for the base that was falling out of the kid’s arms. “No, told you I’m just trynna help.”
The pitcher glared at him but didn’t keep arguing. Instead, he walked off to a shed set away from the fields and fought a key free to unlock it.
“They always leave this job for one person?” Ronan asked.
“No, usually it’s two, but the guy who was supposed to stay with me got hurt and had to go to the med clinic,” Adam said.
Ronan remembered a kid taking a bad pitch to the ribs. He sucked in a breath in sympathy.
“Well, how about you help me with this shit and I’ll treat you to dinner,” Ronan suggested. It was brash and forward and dangerous, but he felt like it would work. He really wanted it to work.
The kid looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “It’s my job. Aren’t you supposed to be helping me and I’ll pay.”
Ronan shrugged. “Sure, I’m sure there’s a MVH discount at Nino’s.”
Adam snorted. “They’d lose half their money that way.”
“Well, they definitely don’t give a shit about giving us a discount.”
“Poor rich kids. How do you afford nine dollar pizzas?”
“Hey, some of us go often enough to keep the doors open,” Ronan laughed. “So… is that a yes to dinner?”
“What’s your name, Raven Boy?” the guy asked.
“It’s Lynch. Ronan Lynch.”
“I’m Adam. And you’re buying me dinner tonight.”
It might’ve happened like this: 16
Gansey caught Ronan staring at the boy with the bike and pulled over in front of him.
“Hey!” he called, waving like the kid wouldn’t be able to see him. “Need a ride?”
And the kid put his bike in the trunk and climbed into the car. “I’m Gansey,” Gansey said, turning the full effect of his charm on the new kid. “This is Ronan.”
The kid glanced between them warily, eyes lingering on Ronan’s like he could see the longing in them, before knocking his knuckles against Gansey’s. “I’m Adam Parrish.”
“Well, Adam, what do you know about dead Welsh kings?”
It might’ve happened like this: 16
Gansey sat down at the lunch table across from Ronan like all the troubles in the world were on his shoulders. Surprisingly, someone sat down next to him. It was the kid from the road, God damn Gansey.
“Ronan, this is Adam. Adam, this is Ronan. Ignore his snarl, he’s a decent guy,” Gansey introduced and then set off on swapping pieces of his sandwich for Ronan’s and taking one of the sweets Ronan had grabbed for an apple from Gansey’s plate. “It’s Adam’s first day. I’m his guide for the school.”
“Sucks for you,” Ronan said to Adam, teasing out a grin from Adam, which he hid very well.
Gansey kept chattering with Adam while he ate a sandwich. When it was gone, so was Gansey, off to talk to the row team or something.
“Um, so you play tennis right?” Adam said after a second of watching Ronan categorically destroy his own sandwich.
Ronan looked up at him with irritation but shrugged. “Sure. I used to.” He half expected Gansey to appear and remind them both that he had two junior titles and a state title behind him.
“I, uh, just saw your tattoo the other day. I was getting a tour. You musta been trying to take the cover off the ball, you were hitting it so hard.”
Ronan sneered, but it might have been an aborted smile. “They took you by the tennis courts?”
“I tried to tell them I wasn’t going to play a sport, but I guess your PE credit is required here.”
Ronan balked at the thought of watching Adam work out. “You’re a nerd then?” he asked, finally taking a bite of his sandwich.
Adam took a significantly smaller bite of a peanut butter sandwich. Ronan realized he didn’t have anything else and he flicked the apple at him. Adam looked at it and ignored it. “You mean I transferred in to learn and not to get recruited for a row scholarship?” he clarified.
“Yeah, something like that,” Ronan said. “You’re not so bad, nerd.”
Adam rolled his eyes.
But, really, it had to happen like this: 16
Two months after the scholarship kid showed up at the school, he walked through the door of Monmouth. Ronan turned down his music, curious but keeping his face schooled as anything but.
“Ronan, Adam just saved my life!” Gansey called. Ronan appeared in the mouth of the hallway connecting the living room and bedrooms and found Gansey, almost disheveled, and the scholarship student/bike kid standing in the the middle of Gansey’s ‘bedroom.’
“How’s that?” he asked. “He dig you out of whatever ditch your shitty car left you in?”
Adam was reading the spines of the books on Gansey’s desk and didn’t seem keen on answering.
“Yes, exactly. He actually got it up and running before I had to call a tow truck,” Gansey explained, shrugging out of his jacket and revealing grease and mud stains on the shirt under it.
“It sounds magical,” Ronan said, deadpan.
“And he knew about Glendower.”
Now Adam did turn, looking a little bashful. “Just that he’s a character in Henry IV,” he explained.
“That’s more than most people know,” Ronan said.
“You guys don’t read Henry IV in private school?”
“You read Henry IV freshman year?” Ronan asked.
Adam shrugged. “My teacher hated Romeo and Juliet.”
Gansey laughed, full chested and free, and pulled Adam towards a spread of journals. “So, here’s what we’ve figured so far…”
“Have you double checked French translations?” Adam asked, pointing to something in a journal.
Gansey beamed up at him and Ronan realized he was doomed.
(I know I’m so late with this! Forgive me!)
#pynch#adam parrish#ronan lynch#pynchpromptweek#fanfiction#meet cute#meet ugly#baseball au#street racing au#meet earlier au#meet later au#don't meet at school au#hollywood au#writing#otp: in more than his lips
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Homesick at Space Camp by FifteenHundredPaperDragons
Chapters: 1/?
Fandom: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Characters: Adam Parrish, Ronan Lynch, Richard Gansey III, Blue Sargent, Henry Cheng, Original Characters
Additional Tags: Pynch Week 2019, Pynch Week, Alternate Universe - Space, Astronauts, Post-Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Long-Distance Relationship, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Minor Henry Cheng/Richard Gansey III/Blue Sargent, Ronan Lynch is Bad at Feelings, Adam Parrish is also Bad at Feelings, Past Relationship(s),
Summary:
Adam spent his whole childhood trying to run away, so he never expected to feel homesick. Ronan is used to causing unexpected emotions.
or,
the They-never-really-discuss-their-feelings-and-then-Adam-goes-off-to-space AU.
My contribution to Pynch Week 2019, day 5: Space AU, because I saw the prompt and suddenly remembered that I was working on an astronaut AU at one point and thought “hey wait a minute!”
#pynch#the raven cycle#trc#adam parrish#ronan lynch#blue sargent#richard campbell gansey iii#henry cheng#pynch week#pynch week 2019#pynch week day 6#space au#pynchpromptweek#yo yo yo i almost entirely did not edit this!! in this house we dont respect the writing process#ive got a whole plot laid out tho this is gonna be multichap so buckle tf up#mine#lowkey forgot about this one but its fine
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