They're in the Barns, in Ronan's room, the bed he's had since he was eight, a dream thing created by his father like so many other things in the house. Ronan can remember every detail, the exact pattern of the quilt, the dents and dings on the wooden bed legs made by errant skateboards and dog teeth and cat claws and carelessly discarded baseball bats. He can remember the dip of the mattress, the scent of his pillows, the strip of warmth from the sun peeking in through the window.
Adam fits as though he's always been here, the width of the bed expanding to hold him, to welcome him, blankets draping over his calves like an embrace.
They're tangled, legs entwined, bare from the waist up, Ronan with one arm under Adam's head and the other wrapped around his middle, fingertips tracing invisible patterns up the center of Adam's back. Noses brushing, Ronan breathes gently into Adam's mouth, still enthralled by the flush of pink across Adam's cheekbones, the line of his nose, the fall of dark eyelashes. Still amazed, even now, that he can have this even beyond his dreams.
In dreams, words aren't necessary. In dreams, Adam already knows what lies beneath Ronan's chest, all he wants and has to offer. In dreams, Ronan can press his lips to Adam's and paint his fingers over soft skin, can leave delicate, beautiful lines with only a touch and not worry that it's too much.
Adam fits as though he's always been here, the width of the bed expanding to hold him, to welcome him, blankets draping over his calves like an embrace.
They're tangled, legs entwined, bare from the waist up, Ronan with one arm under Adam's head and the other wrapped around his middle, fingertips tracing invisible patterns up the center of Adam's back. Noses brushing, Ronan breathes gently into Adam's mouth, still enthralled by the flush of pink across Adam's cheekbones, the line of his nose, the fall of dark eyelashes. Still amazed, even now, that he can have this even beyond his dreams.
In dreams, words aren't necessary. In dreams, Adam already knows what lies beneath Ronan's chest, all he wants and has to offer. In dreams, Ronan can press his lips to Adam's and paint his fingers over soft skin, can leave delicate, beautiful lines with only a touch and not worry that it's too much.
