the smell of polluted pleasure

[thedreamthief]

He's sore all over, bleeding from his bottom lip as well as from a re-opened gash across his chest. His sides and lower back ache, doubtlessly covered in not-yet-visible bruises, and his right cheek is already sore to the touch. Ronan hasn't taken a look at a mirror at all yet, has no real idea how roughed up he looks, but he can feel it.

And he feels like he's flying, utterly high with it, adrenaline still pumping through his veins as he heads for Adam's. He can't go back to woods like this, can't let Gansey's disapproving eye bring him down right away.

He's at least smart enough to text him, a short and sweet 'at Adam's' to keep him from worrying. Because the only thing worse than Gansey in lecture mode is a Gansey in mother hen panic mode.

Ronan doesn't have a key to Adam's place, doesn't have the access that St. Agnes provided. Though that hardly deters him.

Even bruised and sore, Ronan has little difficulty using well-placed windowsills and ivy trellises to climb his way up to Adam's second-story balcony. Grinning wide, he bangs on the glass door, then cups his hand to try to squint inside. It's late and it's dark and there's a good chance Adam's asleep already, but it's fucking Friday, Parrish, open the goddamn door.

Comments

[incognoscibilis]

Adam wasn't asleep. He'd been sitting down at the glass coffee table provided to him, shuffling and spreading Persephone's deck again and again. Celtic cross spreads, ankh, new moon formations. All of them provided useful, meditative interpretations, but none of the cards had hummed with the frequency that indicated a message from Cabeswater.

Absorbed in the cards, Adam didn't notice his would-be burglar and the banging on the terrace sent him leaping out of his seat and cursing with a vocabulary learned directly from the perpetrator at his window. "Ronan! What the hell!?" he demanded.

[thedreamthief]

Ronan's grin widens to all teeth, as Adam stalks toward him in clear irritation. He doesn't feel even a little bit bad about scaring the piss out of him, if anything feels only proud. He gives the door another dull bang with the butt of his fist and then pushes through once Adam opens it just enough.

Heading straight through Adam's living room, Ronan grabs a glass from Adam's kitchen and pours himself water from the tap, taking a large drink before turning back to face Adam.

"There's a fight club here," here he announces, a little bit winded from the climb and the pure adrenaline still pumping through him. Then adds quickly: "Don't tell Gansey."

[incognoscibilis]

"Christ," Adam said. "Jesus Christ." If ever there was a time to use blasphemy on Ronan Lynch, this was it. It was the least he was owed when Ronan just stomped into this space (Adam's space) as if it belonged into him.

Ronan looked like shit but Adam didn't say it out loud, didn't wan to give him the satisfaction. "Of course they do."

[thedreamthief]

"Fuck you, don't give me that disappointed look," Ronan says with a sneer. He rests back against the counter, one hand on the edge of it as he takes another long drink of water. He swallows, then wipes a drop from the corner of his mouth with the back of his wrist. "If I wanted a dose of self-righteousness I'd have gone back to the tent.

It's an unfair statement, honestly, both to Gansey and to Adam but there's still an itch under Ronan's skin and Adam only seems to know to keep on tickling.

Nodding toward the table, Ronan's frown deepens. "Blue's family got you doing their work for them now, too? You on the clock?"

[incognoscibilis]

"You're making a mess in my kitchen," Adam replied, neatly sidestepping the mess that Ronan had made of himself. Knowing that Ronan was going to treat this place as an extension of Monmouth whether or not Adam liked it, he sank back down onto his couch. His mind stayed with the cards and not the water drop that had framed Ronan's mouth.

This Ronan didn't know how Adam used the cards. He didn't know that they'd helped the ley line, Cabeswater, and therefore Ronan as well. "They were Persephone's." Were, not are. "Cabeswater used them to talk to me. I've been reading the cards, but they're just cards here."

He shrugged. "But they help me think."

[thedreamthief]

Ronan makes a show of looking around himself within the kitchen, first over one shoulder and then the next. He arches an eyebrow.

"My fucking glass of water is messing up your kitchen," he says, tone utterly deadpan and disbelieving. He stays exactly where he is, but his gaze drops to the cards again, watching for a long moment. His buzz from the fight is fading fast and he takes another sip of water.

Finally, he says, "So what do you need help thinking about?"

[incognoscibilis]

Adam noded at him, trying to rouse up some gravitas after having the shit scared out of him by his deranged best friend trying to crawl into the window. "It's a disaster. You've thrown off all the feng shui," he said in his best impression of Gansey's mother. He sort of missed that rubber plant now so maybe there'd been something to it.

"Just doing card spreads and thinking them over. I'm not really asking questions except for ones about Cabeswater and those haven't gotten me any answers." Adam stacked them together and slid them into the velvet bag that Persephone had used to keep them.

He wondered what Ronan's card might be and doubted he'd find out.

[thedreamthief]

Fucking feng shui. Despite himself, Ronan almost quirks a smile, hides it with another sip of water, his eyes not leaving Adam's. He notably still doesn't move, and he's not going to.

A moment later, his gaze drops again to the cards, to Adam's hands as he gathers them all up and slips them into an unfamiliar little bag. Once again, Ronan's struck by how much has changed, how much Adam's link to Cabeswater has effected him, how much Ronan still doesn't understand.

"No Cabeswater here," Ronan says, almost sounding petulant even to his own ears. And it's nothing Adam doesn't already know. "Guess you and I are just stuck screaming into the void now."

[incognoscibilis]

Ronan's expression was just short of predatory but Adam didn't comment on it. In different applications, Ronan's look could inspire dread in Adam, whether for himself or others. Now, in the dark of the apartment, it was the sort of look that might earn an invitation to the bedroom from a braver man.

Adam didn't think of himself as being particularly brave. Or seductive.

Instead, he put the cards away and leaned back on the sofa. "You should ice that."

[thedreamthief]

Ronan's focus drops, for just a second, to the stretch of Adam's torso before he catches himself. For a moment, he isn't sure what Adam's referring to, his high from the fight dying a swift death despite his best efforts, but a quick swipe of this tongue across his bottom lip after he swallows his water down is a quick reminder.

Shrugging, Ronan glances down at himself, his shirt still damp with sweat and streaked with blood: both his own and others'.

"Am I gonna fuck up your feng shui if I do?" he asks, tone snide but not cruel. Almost fond, even. He doesn't wait for Adam's reply, placing his nearly empty glass on the counter before he starts rifling through Adam's drawers. "You even have any goddamn plastic bags in here?"

[incognoscibilis]

For a second, Adam glanced at Ronan through his eyelashes, tried to read what Ronan wanted of him. Maybe if he were braver, better, he'd make a move and find out for sure. But he wasn't. Adam watched, lost for a moment, as Ronan licked his lip.

It took a second to fall back into himself before Adam thought to ease up from his spot on the couch and go into the kitchen. In the narrow galley space, it was hard not to brush against Ronan as he went into the cabinet that held his sandwich bags. "Right here."

[thedreamthief]

There isn't a lot of space in Adam's small, tired excuse for a kitchen, and Ronan steps back when Adam comes closer, making room for him even as he flashes sharp teeth as he snatches a bag from Adam's hand.

"You're a gem," he says, his tone now dripping with sarcasm. Opening the freezer door, Ronan starts filling the bag with ice cubes. Not for the first time, he wonders how often Adam's been in his position, how many times he's had to quietly fill a bag with ice to tend the wounds inflicted by his father. He wonders if that makes Adam more or less sympathetic in this moment. Less, Ronan imagines, if only because Ronan went looking for his bruises.

[incognoscibilis]

"I'm a rock," Adam said. A stone. A pebble. He'd been picked up out of the dirt, but there was no polishing a jewel out of him. "Wrap it in a towel. It'll help."

Sighing, he opened his fridge and looked through it. "Hungry?" Not that he had much to offer. There was a bag of apples, two loaves of bread, and cheese and meat for sandwiches.

[thedreamthief]

"I know how a fucking ice pack works," Ronan snaps, but there isn't much heat in it, still all too aware of how often Adam's had to do this on his own.

He grabs the lone towel off the stove handle and wraps it around the bag, glancing briefly into Adam's mostly empty fridge in the process. "I'm good," he says and it's not really a lie, especially when he adds, "Could go for some pizza."

[incognoscibilis]

"For all you know, I've got the superior technique," Adam said, soft and mellow but obliquely acknowledging the life that had taught him all about applying ice and walking on injuries without making it look as if anything hurt.

Pizza. After weeks of sandwiches, that sounded amazing. "You got money to split? Could get a bacon avocado. Just don't tell Gansey we got one without him."

[thedreamthief]

Ronan acknowledges the first with only a glance. In this, he'll brook no argument. He presses the pack to the side of his jaw, flinching only out of surprise; he hadn't realized there was a bruise quite so deep til just now.

"I got money," he says, pulling the wallet out of his back pocket with his other hand and tossing it on the counter. It isn't much, but it should be enough to cover at least half a pizza. Resting back against the lip of the counter again, he eyes Adam a little more openly. Asks, "You really like it here? In this apartment, I mean."

[incognoscibilis]

Adam caught the flinch but didn't say anything about it. He just opened a cabinet and handed Ronan a small bottle of painkillers. He didn't ignore Ronan's question so much as deliberated on how honest he should be and filled the meditation by going through his phone to find a twenty-four hours pizza place.

"It's a place to live until we find a building to buy," he said, which was the truth. "I don't want to camp if I can help it. We did that when I was a kid. Only it wasn't camping. It was 'We Can't Pay The Electric Bill This Month and It's Cheaper To Live In The Dirt We Came From.'"

[thedreamthief]

"Better the dirt than the pits of hell," Ronan says, but there's no real heft behind the words. He's used to Adam talking about himself this way, used to rolling his eyes and moving on to other topics. Nothing he or anyone else ever says is going to change the way Adam sees himself and Ronan has a feeling that, even if Adam got the Ivy League education and the Wall Street job and started raking in dough left and right, he'd still see himself as some backwoods Virginia hick.

It doesn't matter what Ronan thinks of him. Though, Ronan doesn't wonder sometimes if Gansey's opinion makes a difference. He thinks it probably does.

"We've actually found it already," he says, shifting the subject as he moves the ice pack to his shoulder briefly. "It's just a matter of figuring out how to pay for it." He doesn't mention that he has an interview in three days, doesn't mention that he's actually fucking nervous about it. That's his secret for now, one of the few he has left anymore.

[incognoscibilis]

"You're too handsome for the pits of hell," Adam said, distracted enough with using his phone to order a pizza that he didn't stop himself until it was too late. Smart phones were dangerous. Clearing his throat, Adam held up his phone. "Pizza should be here soon. It's seventeen seventy-two."

He'd gotten an extra-large because he wasn't stupid. At least not about feeding Ronan.

"I'd like to see it. Did you go while I was at work?" He didn't know if Ronan had figured out that Adam was working at Peter's now too. So far, he'd only visited while Adam was at West's.

[thedreamthief]

It's an off-hand comment, and bizarrely casual. Ronan just stares for a moment, scrutinizing, but Adam has his head lowered, ordering their pizza. And then it's like nothing was said at all.

Probably a joke then. A bad one, but shit's been awkward all around; Ronan won't hold it against him.

"We can go this week if you want," he says. He doesn't have Adam's current work schedule memorized, just knows he's working both at the garage and a sporting good's store. "Unless Gansey drags you there first." Which is honestly much more likely. And probably better all around. Adam and Gansey have a shared past now, a stronger connection binding them with Ronan constantly staggering two steps behind. It makes him uncomfortable even if he isn't willing to completely let go.

[incognoscibilis]

"We should probably all go together." It was an offer, an act of solidarity. Adam accepted himself as one of the group and wanted to be part of them rather than just a hanger on, isolated unto himself. It was the problem with him wanting Blue and then Gansey wanting her. When those lines got crossed, it meant they got divided and he couldn't do that again.

"Pizza should be here in half an hour." Adam already knew that Ronan was going to occupy his couch (a dangerous part of his mind said he should offer his bed and Adam crushed it down). "Should I read your cards in the meantime?"

[thedreamthief]

"Cool, together then," Ronan says because that probably won't be too difficult to arrange. It's Adam's schedule they need to work around; the only other thing Ronan has is the interview and if it comes down between that and looking at the warehouse, he knows which one he'll choose.

He arches an eyebrow at Adam's question, then glances over into the other room where the cards have been carefully put away. His lips curl into a smirk. "What, think you can find Cabeswater in me?" he asks, but he's heading over to the couch already anyway. It doesn't look like much but the cushions are actually comfortable and Ronan eases into them, holding the pack to his shoulder. "Good luck, man."

[incognoscibilis]

"You're the Greywaren. Who knows what you bring with you," Adam said. He dropped into the seat next to Ronan, wondering if he should sit closer. Did he like Ronan back, really? Or was it just the simple satisfaction of being wanted? Or was it Cabeswater? Adam pushed the though aside for now.

To keep his hands busy, Adam began to shuffle the cards. "I like them, the meanings. I don't think they're telling me the future. But they help my head when it comes to the present."

[thedreamthief]

A Greywaren, Ronan thinks instinctively, but then stops himself. Adam knows more than he does, has lived through and seen things Ronan has only been told. What does it mean if he's the Greywaren? Does that change anything at all? Does it make him different than his father or Kavinsky?

Does he even want to find out?

Adam takes a seat on the couch and Ronan's skin prickles all too aware of how close they are, the limited amount of space between them. He keeps his focus on Adam's hands instead, frown deepening as he shuffles the deck. Finally, he glances up again.

"So you want to try to find meaning in me," he says, more of a question though it comes out sounding like a statement. "Fuck that, you already know me."

It's maybe the closest to a lie Ronan's ever gotten. He wonders about what Adam means though, about keeping his head. He wonders how much he's really missed in being stuck here, how much Adam's had to deal with that Ronan hasn't seen.

[incognoscibilis]

The first lie, which Adam had known years ago, was Ronan claiming to be straight. It was the only lie he knew Ronan ever to tell in the whole of their friendship and Adam didn't think that Ronan even knew it was a lie. Adam supposed he did know Ronan, but not as well as he thought he had.

"I know you as well as you know me," Adam said. And it was the truth, but Adam was mostly unknowable still. Except, maybe, to Ronan.

At random, Adam peeled two cards off the top of his deck and two from the bottom and laid them flat on the table, face down.