(no subject)

[thedreamthief]

The bed in Ronan's room on Cabeswater Farms was currently occupied by two boys. Two men, really. They were both in shorts, the taller bare-chested and flat on his back with one arm flung out and serving as a pillow to the smaller one who was curled on his side, a loose t-shirt hanging from his frame. The floor was covered in loose papers, each of them scribbled upon in ink and dirt and blood. A rock tablet was propped against the wall, bearing an ornate lemniscate that seemed burned into the stone.

A raven sat atop another, similar stone, her talons curled over the edges as she watched over the sleeping men.

The forest whispered around them and, deep, deep within its branches, within that nook reserved for dreaming, they were stretched upon a bed of moss on their bellies with flowers at their fingertips. They wore more clothing in this world though it was difficult to identify any material or any specifics at all. It was an unimportant detail in comparison to the rest, to the lines in the dirt and on the moss, the careful arrangement of flower petals and leaves and grass.

Ronan drew another long, sweeping line in the dirt and then sat up, wiping his hand across his thigh as he crossed his legs under him.

The air around them shimmered with designs, each of them exact copies of one another, the curves and angles glittering under the sun that peeked in through the trees. With that same finger, Ronan touched one. It shuddered slightly but remained hanging in the air and Ronan looked to Adam.

His voice was careful when he spoke, confident but not pushy. "Think you're ready?"

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[incognoscibilis]

Adam shifted against the soft moss, reaching out to trace his finger along the edge of one of the designs. Its image surrounded them, repeated again and again as if asking for Adam's commitment, something he'd already given. He knew they were dreaming but he could also feel the warmth of sunlight through Cabeswater's leaves, smell the moss and earth beneath them.

Adam Parrish knew that this place was magic, that they were magic but there were moments that felt more magical than others. As they lay there, surrounded by possibility and potential and unformed Everything, Adam couldn't think of a time when he'd felt it more clearly. They were, the two of them, so powerful and so impossible.

He reached out for Ronan, cupped his face. "Ready."

[thedreamthief]

Some part of Ronan wondered if he was ready. They'd been working on this for weeks, first dreaming up the design that Adam wanted, then attempting to dream it onto various surfaces: stone and paper and leather. It was rough at first, the two of them learning to work together to get it right, but they'd created piece after piece of a perfected thing for well over a week now.

There was nothing left but to dream it onto Adam's skin.

It would be different from every other attempt and Ronan wondered if they shouldn't start with something smaller. Maybe something less permanent.

But Adam was looking at him like he trusted Ronan with absolutely everything, even something like this, and Ronan was determined not to fuck it up. Pulling in a slow breath, he leaned in closer, close enough to brush his lips to Adam's. "Lie down," he murmured, his hands already falling to the bottom hem of Adam's shirt, tugging at the fabric.

[incognoscibilis]

First, Adam reveled in the kiss. Dream kisses were a funny thing, simultaneously more real and beyond reality. Adam thought he could taste them or hear them or some other extrasensory experience of them. Or maybe that was Ronan.

Adam stretched out, head pillowed on his arms in the moss, sighing out as Ronan trailed fingers up his back. Everything in this dream place felt so much and Adam could go mad from it without Ronan there to ground him, without fingers over his skin to remind him that he was a boy with a body, no more or less magical than that.

"I love you, Ronan," he said. "I trust you."

[thedreamthief]

It was not a sentiment either of them often said outright, though Ronan couldn't deny the heat that washed over him those three simple words. But he wasn't sure which meant more, being loved or being trusted. To him, they felt the same.

More important than the words was the stretch of Adam's body beneath him, surrender written in the ease of his muscles as he rested into the moss, giving himself over entirely to the magic of Ronan's fingers and the power of Cabeswater that ran through them both. With care, Ronan eased Adam's shirt higher, guiding him to lift up enough to pull it off entirely and setting it aside.

Adam's back was scattered with constellations of freckles and, grinning sightly, Ronan bent to press a kiss to a small, faint cluster as he smoothed a hand upward. It wasn't a marking touch, nothing but warmth flooding through Ronan's fingertips. Not yet.

[incognoscibilis]

It was a sentiment always felt, a simple knowledge and an irrefutable truth. Adam Parrish loved Ronan Lynch and was loved by him. Ronan Lynch loved Adam Parrish and was loved in equally fierce measure. The sun went up and went down and they were loved. All of these things were equally constant.

Breathing out, Adam closed his eyes and hummed under the kiss. There was no rush, no reason for Ronan to hurry. Time was mutable in this place and Ronan had all the time in the world if he wanted. Adam was patient and, in this place, all of his trust was rewarded.

[thedreamthief]

Beneath Ronan's fingers, Adam relaxed even further, his breath slow and even as Ronan sat up again.

Ronan would never call himself an artist, but there was also no denying the astounding things he had created. The best were the living, the creatures he pulled from his mind and somehow breathed into life. Ronan was not a god; whatever he made could not exist without him, but at some point, he'd stopped thinking of himself as a demon. Despite the rage that once boiled under his skin, it had never been in his nature to destroy. Not really.

And now, here with Adam in this impossible forest, he could draw whatever he wanted across Adam's skin and bring it to life. He smirked to himself as he started, Adam's skin glistening with ink that bled away almost instantly.

"Kiss me, I'm a Redneck," he read to himself out loud, glancing up briefly to where Adam had his head pillowed on his arm.

[incognoscibilis]

Adam's mouth twitched up, amused but also betraying the anxiety that that could be seen on him, with or without a tattoo. "Very funny," he said, feeling something flow away from his back. If he were being pedantic, Adam would have pointed out that he was a hick and not a redneck, fuck you very much, but to do so would be to affirm that he was one. Instead, he closed his eyes, resettling against the moss.

"Don't be an ass," he said, the words fond this time. He'd said he trusted Ronan and Adam knew those words wouldn't really be on his skin when they woke up.

[thedreamthief]

Ronan's grin widened at the response, pleased by the predictability of it, but also the tone. Though the joke was an old one between them, the tone had softened over the years, had settled into something that warmed under Ronan's skin, becoming something comfortable and dependable.

Whatever other shit might be going on in Ronan's life, however much Blue hated him or Noah distanced himself or Gansey wandered to collect someone new and shinier, he knew Adam loved him.

"Hmm, speaking of ass," he responded thoughtfully, smoothing his hand lower down the length of Adam's spine to trail his fingers over Adam's waistband. "You sure you don't want 'Property of Ronan Lynch' down here. I think it'd look fucking charming."

[incognoscibilis]

"In your dreams," Adam said, voice slow and so deadpan it was almost difficult to tell if the choice of words came from sarcasm or thoughtlessness. Except for the way he smiled. Ronan wouldn't actually do it, he thought, if only because they both knew what Adam's personhood meant to him, what it had cost him. Adam belonged to no one and he thought Ronan preferred him that way.

"I don't think you believe in charming," he added. Catlike, he stretched a little, enjoying the slow path that Ronan's hand made over his spine.

"You keep talking and I'm going to lose my nerve."

[thedreamthief]

It wasn't a biting response, mostly because they both knew Ronan would never do such a thing. Not even in his dreams. Especially not in his dreams.

Ronan smirked instead and ran his hands up the length of Adam's back, the fabric bunching around his wrists, caught under Adam's armpits. And then, because it was a dream, the shirt was gone entirely, leaving Adam bare from the waist up, head still pillowed on moss.

His fingertips buzzed.

"You want it to hurt?" he asked, fingers dancing down the bumps of Adam's spine.

[incognoscibilis]

"Am I a coward if I say no?" He was honest because it was Ronan. Ronan only ever gave the truth and Adam gave it back, even when his tendencies were to say what pleased people, to answer vaguely. With Ronan, he gave the truth because it was the very least he could do. Because it was what they were built on.

"Or does it have to for it to stick?"

[thedreamthief]

"It's a fucking dream," Ronan pointed out, the words biting but his tone anything but. "We make the rules."

And he started then, quietly and without any fanfare. After all their experimenting, all the drafts and re-drafts and changes, Ronan had the design memorized. Could literally draw it in his sleep. He started at the point just below Adam's nape, smoothing black ink into the skin with swipe after swipe.

[incognoscibilis]

"You've always made your own rules," Adam agreed. At this point, it seemed as if his job was to get comfortable while the Greywaren dreamed. It felt odd that he could close his eyes while he was already asleep and all of this was a dream, but he did. Adam relaxed again into the moss, breathing slowly and simply waiting. Simply being.

[thedreamthief]

Adam had a point, though Ronan only smirked in response, and shrugged. The statement wasn't untrue, especially when it came to dreams, and Ronan wasn't about to feel guilty for it.

What rules Ronan didn't make himself, he felt free to break. And even those he often bent.

He continued his work, trailing his fingers in a deliberate path between Adam's shoulder blades. He was no artist, but Cabeswater knew where the lines should be and bled ink into Adam's skin accordingly. It blossomed like a watercolor painting, melting thick and thin lines, shimmering and pliable though Ronan had no doubt they would become as permanent as his own once they woke.

[incognoscibilis]

Cabeswater understood and it strove to make them happy. Ronan more so than Adam, he thought, but it still knew that Adam's happiness tended to mean Ronan's. He trusted Ronan and Cabeswater both to realize the vision they'd brought together.

Adam imagined that he could feel the lines over his back, tingling rather than hurting. Or maybe that was just how it felt to have Ronan's fingers along his skin.

"How's it look?"

[thedreamthief]

"Like shit," Ronan replied, not a lie but a joke. It was a quiet one though and Ronan glanced upward a moment as he painted another line, lips tugging upward into a half grin.

In truth, it looked incredible. Winding and intricate, similar to Ronan's but not as harsh. There was a lightness to Adam's design, a hopefulness where Ronan's tattoo was one of rage and despair. Somehow, though, that seemed appropriate. Adam had earned his hope just as Ronan had earned his rage.

His fingers continued to work as he asked, "How's it feel?"

[incognoscibilis]

"Ass," Adam said again. He twisted, not to look at the tattoo but to look up at Ronan, mouth working into a smile. "It feels warm, but that could just be you." It was always easy to imagine Ronan running hotter than anyone else, fueled by temper and power, even though any doctor might have pronounced him ordinary and human.

[thedreamthief]

Again, Ronan smirked, glancing up once more from the design he quietly continued tracing into existence. This was only the first step; the second would be more difficult but Ronan wasn't worried.

"You callin' me hot, Parrish?" he asked, curling his other hand higher up Adam's side and giving a light squeeze.

[incognoscibilis]

Adam's shoulder twitched, like he was considering giving Ronan a swat, before going still again. Ronan was talking and making jokes but Adam wondered how much of this consumed his attention, if he only made it look easy.

"I'd better think you're hot by now," he said, smile holding on. If not for the delicate magic being worked onto his skin, he would have rolled over and tugged Ronan down for a kiss, enjoying their idyllic dream world.

[thedreamthief]

He wouldn't voice it, not now, but he had often wondered when Adam had started looking at him differently. Because there was no way Adam felt attracted to him at the start, not with the way they'd fought, the way Ronan had resisted even welcoming Adam into the small bubble of Ronan-and-Gansey.

Then again, he'd always been attracted to Adam. At least physically.

Maybe Adam had felt similarly?

"Sure put up with a lot if I repulse you," he agreed with his own smirk, confident that wasn't the case at all. He worked his fingers lower, down the knobs of Adam's spine, black dream ink spreading over pale, freckled skin. He smoothed his other hand higher up Adam's side and let out a breath. "Nearly done."

[incognoscibilis]

Longer than Ronan was likely to believe. Adam had always looked at them, Gansey and Ronan. He had always admired the way that Ronan's eyelashes shadowed his cheeks, the way the fine bones of his face made a noble profile. He just hadn't understood what it signified to look until realizing that Ronan was looking at him and Ronan was always honest, even in his silences.

"I put up with a lot 'cause I love you," he said, letting his accent drawl out for once, a private little game. "Should I be quiet?"

[thedreamthief]

There was a hint of a familiar drawl in Adam's voice then, a reminder of where they came from, of a home that Ronan would always miss even as Adam was happy to see it gone. He smiled quietly at the sound of it and bent forward, presssing a kiss to an unmarked knob of Adam's spine.

His skin glimmered there for a moment, a shadow of ink that drifted away within seconds as Ronan sat back up.

"Only if you want to," he said, admiring his handiwork for a moment, and scrutinizing, searching for withered lines and forgotten details. It looked just as he remembered, just as they'd practiced time and time again, lines dark and swirling against Adam's tanned skin. "You ready to wake up?"

[incognoscibilis]

"I'm never ready to wake up," Adam said, smiling over his shoulder again. In Darrow, that was less true and Adam's dark circles were less prominent, but he'd never stop being the kind of person who treasured sleep when he got the opportunity.

But he did want to see the final work, so he nodded. "Are you?"

[thedreamthief]

Ronan smirked at the comment, comforted that here in Darrow, Adam actually had time to sleep. It was still precious to him, but it didn't mean the same that it once had.

"Ready as I'll ever be," he said, giving Adam's side a light pat before stretching out alongside him in the grass. He stayed close, one leg hooked over Adam's, his hand spread wide over Adam's arm and their faces a breath away. "It looks badass," he said then, lips tugged in a wicked sort of grin, a secret between them that wouldn't stay a secret much longer.

[incognoscibilis]

Adam smiled and tilted his head, kissing that wicked, secretive smile. That smile was a secret they kept between themselves. The world saw plenty like it, but Adam was the only one who got this smile, this Ronan who was close enough to fill his vision.

"I'm ready," he said, eyes lingering on Ronan's for just a moment before he let them drift closed. Adam was never certain that leaving a dream was his own will or Ronan's, but he waited.