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Your Place Not Mine

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It was a couple of weeks after their official ‘yes we’re actually fucking dating’ date, and things had settled down from being kind of crazy a lot to this is fine and good and being in a relationship isn’t actually the most terrifying thing to happen to me

 

Ronan had definitely taken this whole thing into his stride a lot easier and quicker than Adam had. He seemed to find it normal, simple even, to hold Adam’s hand while they were out together, to refer to Adam as his boyfriend, to kiss Adam in places where people could see them kissing . If Adam had had a facebook Ronan would have wanted them to be facebook official, Adam was sure. Not that Adam was against them being facebook official, of course , it was just. 

 

Well. It was still a lot. 

 

He was so much better at having friends now. Having people invite him to things, include him in things, be pleased to see him simply for his company. Even having his friends touch him was easier now, a genial clap on the shoulder, a slight shove in jest. High fives, fist bumps, whatever. So long as he could see it coming it was fine. 

 

Which was why he couldn’t explain it properly when he would still flinch away from Ronan’s hand coming to rest on his lower back, brushing at his knuckles, lifting to push back one of Adam’s stray curls.

He couldn’t explain it, and so he didn’t want to bring it up, and he didn’t know how to fix it. He knew he had to fix it though, Ronan’s hurt expression - no matter how quickly hidden - cemented that. 

 

And he would have worked on fixing it, quietly, slowly, on his own terms, if Ronan hadn’t been the one to bring it up. 

 

-

 

“Do you not want to hold hands in public?” He asked, somewhere around about midnight on a Friday after they’d gotten back from a group bowling session. 

 

The night had involved the two of them, Gansey and Blue (who were now also tentatively dating, though apparently nowhere near as shy about it as Adam), and a handful of friends from the study group. Now the night only involved Ronan pressed up against Adam’s back in Ronan’s bedroom, his arms slung heavy and comforting over Adam’s chest. 

 

Well. It had been comforting. Paired with Ronan’s question it felt a little bit suffocating. But only because questions like these tended to leave Adam wanting to be able to get out easily. He was on the open side of the bed, Ronan preferring the wall, Adam preferring escape routes. 

 

“Because we don’t have to,” Ronan added, filling in the silence Adam had left.   

 

“No,” Adam mumbled, focused on relaxing his muscles, starting with his shoulders. He didn’t want to be physically reacting to this the way he was. “No. I do. I want to hold your hand.” 

 

It sounded weak, even to him. 

 

“Fuck, man,” Ronan sighed, “it doesn’t exactly seem like you do.” 

 

This wasn’t something Adam could really argue back about with any examples. 

Tonight he’d flinched away from Ronan’s hands in the booth, at the bar, saying goodbye to their friends. 

He was just - it wasn’t that he didn’t want to hold hands it was just that it was a surprise, and by the time he’d managed to fucking quell his anxiety about it Ronan’s hands would always be neatly tucked away, his face blank. And - well - he couldn’t bring it up in front of everyone else, and he didn’t want to be seen reaching out into Ronan’s pockets to tug his hands back out, and - 

 

He never knew what to do. 

 

“I’m just not used to it, yet.” 

 

“I dunno how you’re gonna get used to it if we never fucking do it,” Ronan replied. “I’m not gonna be pissed if you don’t want to, Parrish, I just - I just need to know.” 

 

“I hold your hand,” Adam protested, because that bit was true. If he was the one who offered the hand in public he wasn’t getting surprised by it. “I held your hand on the way to uni yesterday.” 

 

“From the parking lot to outside the library. You let go when we walked inside.” 

 

“Well,” Adam frowned, wriggled a bit against Ronan’s chest. “I needed my hands.” 

 

Ronan didn’t reply. 

 

“Lynch,” Adam said, swallowed. Inhaled. “I wanna hold your hands. I promise. If I didn’t want to, I would have told you. It isn’t about that.” 

 

“So what is it about?” 

 

Adam still didn’t have a real answer. He had some ideas of answers? He had a slight spitball of an answer? 

 

“I’m not used to…” he shook his head, cleared his throat. He was glad they were not face to face. “We did everything in private. In secret. I’m not used to it being. Allowed.” 

 

“Like. In a gay way or in a PDA way?” 

 

“I don’t know,” Adam groaned, shut his eyes tight. “Can we drop this?” 

 

Ronan kissed his nape, wrapped his arms around Adam tighter.

 

-

 

The next time it came up was at study group. 


Adam was sitting in between Ronan and some third year who he was pretty sure was called Steve. Gansey was sitting opposite, he, Steve, and Adam were all trying to work on a brain storm. Ronan had been sitting there quietly for a while now, sketching out things in his art book, one hand on the table, palm up. 


Adam was pretty sure it had been there for about five minutes before he realised what Ronan was asking for, was offering.

 

It wasn’t like Gansey would care. Their whole friend group knew already that they were dating. That wasn’t a problem. It wasn’t a problem. It shouldn’t be a problem. He wished Ronan’s hand was a little closer to the edge of the table. 

 

He shifted a little, readjusted his shirt hem, brought his hands back to the table, one of them stopping at Ronan’s hand. It was as subtle as he could make it and it still spiked anxiety all the way up his spine. 

 

The warmth of Ronan’s palm against his, though, the way Ronan immediately twisted their fingers together, that was compensation enough for the anxiety. 

 

He didn’t look at Steve, though, that was one anxious step too far. 

 

-

 

“You know I’d never hurt you, yeah?” Ronan asked, entirely out of the blue a few days later. 

 

They had been sitting together in silence for a good two hours, both of them working on uni work in Adam’s dorm room. Ravi was out at a party, and they weren’t expecting him back until the morning at the very least. Adam had been hoping that they’d use this opportunity to have sex, not bring up uncomfortable topics. 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“And that, uh, if anyone was a shit to us about the gay thing, I’d deck them for you?” 

 

Adam snorted, ducked further over his crappy laptop, tried to keep typing. “Uh-huh.” 

 

“Unless you preferred me to keep it physically civil, in which case I’d only verbally fuck them up.” 

 

“Lynch,” Adam said to his keyboard. “What the fuck is happening right now?” 

 

“Nothing.” 

 

Now Adam looked up, glared over at the top of Ronan’s head where he was also bent over his laptop, drawing tablet attached, looking for all the world like he was entirely occupied with whatever it was he was drawing. 

 

“Something,” Adam shot back, pushed his laptop to the side and stretched out one leg so he could nudge Ronan’s calf. “Why are you saying this shit?” 

 

“Because I wanted you to know,” Ronan grumbled, kept drawing. 

 

“Right,” Adam nodded. Picked at the skin around his thumb nail. “So not about like, the fact that I didn’t hold your hand at the supermarket this evening.” 

 

Ronan didn’t reply. Adam swallowed. He pulled his laptop back around, tried to work again. He’d written maybe two words, two and a half, when Ronan spoke again. 

 

“I don’t know if you want me to stop or not,” he said. “I just - do you want me to try and hold your hand? Or do you wanna be the one to do it.” 

 

If it was all up to Adam to well up the courage to hold Ronan’s hand, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it. He shook his head. 

 

“Because it feels really shitty,” Ronan continued, voice a little shaky, “when my boyfriend keeps - keeps literally pushing me away.” 

 

Adam knew this. This would probably all have been easier if he hadn’t known this. He nodded. 

 

“I don’t know what to do-” Ronan’s voice broke a little here, and he cleared his throat before continuing. “How I’m supposed to make this - make this easier on you.” 

 

“You shouldn’t have to!” Adam snapped. Didn’t mean to snap. He cleared his throat as well. Pushed away his laptop again. “I don’t want to be difficult, it’s just that - I don’t - I don’t want you to have to try so hard.” 

 

Ronan glared at him. Shut his own laptop, pressed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets and rubbed them for a few moments. 

 

“I’m getting better at it,” Adam said, “aren’t I?” 

 

Ronan sighed, dropped his hands down to his lap. “Yeah,” he said. “You only pull away from me like I’m a goddamned pickpocket about half the time now.” 

 

“You are a pickpocket,” Adam pointed out. “You nabbed my phone earlier.” 

 

“I wanted to know what the time was,” Ronan defended, then shook his head. “Come on, Parrish.” 

 

“Come on what?” Adam picked at the cover on his bed, pinching off little lint pills. “Come on get over whatever it is making me act like an idiot whenever you try to hold my hand? Come on get a grip? Come on chill out?” 

 

Ronan stared at him flatly for a short moment, and then he shunted himself further back on the bed, away from Adam, until he could lean against the wall. 

 

“Come on as in tell me what I can fucking do to make this easier because I can’t keep doing this.” 

 

Adam was pretty sure this wasn’t Ronan breaking up with him. He was pretty sure it was frustration, and grouchiness, and Adam being a dick, and Ronan doing his best to be mature and use his words, and help , but - 

 

But Adam’s insides felt hot and cold, and his stomach ached and sunk, and his lungs tightened, and his heart hurt, and all his skin could feel was the horror that Ronan might break up with him. And Ronan should break up with him. Ronan deserved someone who could hold his hand. In bed. In public. In the shops. Wouldn’t pull away. Could give him what he needed. Wasn’t so broken. Wasn’t so shitty. Wasn’t so bad at talking and explaining. Everything hurt. 

 

“I don’t want to break up,” Adam gasped out, his lungs tightening further, like he’d used all oxygen available simply to say those few words. His eyes burned. 

 

He could vaguely hear Ronan past the rushing of blood in his own ears, but he couldn’t look at him, it was too much. 

 

“Fuck,” Ronan was saying. “Fuck, Parrish, no, God, no, that’s not what I’m - I don’t want to break up either, shit - can I touch - can I hold you?” 

 

Ronan was right in front of him, arms open, that was as much as Adam could manage to see. Couldn’t speak. Just nodded tightly. It wasn’t fair that Ronan had to be comforting him right now. Ronan was just trying to fucking solve a problem and now he had to look after Adam because Adam was stupid, and damaged, and didn’t know how to deal with things, or people, and -

 

Ronan was holding him tightly, not too tightly, but firmly. One arm around Adam’s waist, the other around his shoulders. He was mumbling something that sounded comforting and possibly wasn’t in english. Adam didn’t know. He couldn’t pay enough attention to it while his body was in panic. 

 

It was easier to start breathing again when he could feel Ronan’s chest moving against his own. Ronan’s breath against his neck. Easier for his panic to subside with Ronan holding him so carefully. 

 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, tried to surreptitiously wipe at his eyes. “Sorry.” 

 

“It’s fine,” Ronan grunted, pulled back a little ruin Adam’s surreptitiousness by wiping at Adam’s tear tracks with his thumb. “I’m - uh - I’m sorry I pushed you. I didn’t mean to. I just -”

 

“You didn’t push me,” Adam said, “I’m just, really, really bad at this.” 

 

Ronan kissed him. On the cheek. 

 

“I -” Adam started, had to pause a moment to swallow down on the tears still threatening to escape, the panic in his voice. “I’m trying. I’m going to try harder. To - to be better. At being a good boyfriend.” 

 

“Shit man,” Ronan sighed, kissed Adam’s other cheek. “You’re a fucking great boyfriend. And shut up with that look. You bring me coffee, you listen to me ramble about art, you let me be me, you make me feel fucking amazing.” 

 

Adam sniffed. Ronan kissed his forehead. 

 

“I love you,” Ronan said. “And I wanna work through this with you. Not just dump the best goddamn thing that’s ever happened to me just because something is a little hard.” 

 

Adam sniffed again, kissed Ronan on the lips. 

 

He wanted to tell Ronan that he was the best thing that had happened to Adam too, but he’d only just got a handle on not feeling like he was going to cry and he didn’t want to start that up again. It was easier to kiss Ronan, to cling to him, especially with Ronan kissing and clinging back. 

 

-

 

Ronan began to brush their knuckles together while they walked instead, his hand bumping into Adam’s a couple of times as an… invitation. An easy way for Adam to give him a soft no, or to choose to hold onto Ronan’s hand. Sitting down was easier because Ronan would leave his hand open and available for him like he had that time at the study session. It was all up to Adam. Few things were up to Adam when they were this nice. 

 

He could still tell Ronan felt… hurt when Adam didn’t take his hand though. He had designed it to be as little rejection as possible while still rejection, and Adam knew how much rejection could hurt. 

If Adam craved touch, Ronan thrived off it. He touched when he felt comfortable, he touched to show his feelings, he touched to comfort, to be comforted. Touch was reassurance for him, very similar to the life line it was to Adam. 

 

He wanted, very badly, to fill in these little holes of touch for Ronan. Little, ‘sorry I felt too raw and odd to hold your hand in public’ touches. An extra kiss at the door, a tighter hug after dinner. He would offer a blowjob, but, well. 

 

They hadn’t actually… they hadn’t actually had sex of any sort since they’d gotten together. At first it was just because they were busy. They both had intense classes. Then it was because Gansey was home and Ravi was home, and with both of them knowing about Ronan and Adam it was a little awkward, and then it just --- didn’t happen. 

 

Which wasn’t a problem. It was just a bit odd going from fuck buddies who fucked about at least once a week to actual real life literal boyfriends who, since aquiring this position, had only kissed. 

 

If Adam thought Ronan was pettier than he was, he might think it was… punishment for not holding his hand. But Ronan wasn’t that petty, and he wasn’t that mean, no matter how hardcore he thought himself, so. He didn’t know why they weren’t having sex. Maybe Ronan thought Adam wasn’t comfortable with it anymore? That Adam was so bad at being a boyfriend that not only could he not hold Ronan’s hand but he also didn’t want to have sex? 

 

It was no use trying to rationalise to himself that if this was the other way around Adam wouldn’t think Ronan was a bad boyfriend for either of this issues. 

 

-

 

“Hey,” Adam said, raising his voice a little to be heard over Ronan going at least 20 over the speed limit and the radio. “You know how Gansey’s away for the weekend?” 

 

“He’s only mentioned it a million fucking times,” Ronan snorted, reached with one hand to turn the buzzing radio down a little. “If he’s asked you to remind me to water his plants, I fucking remember.” 

 

“Actually,” Adam rolled his eyes. “I was gonna ask if I can stay.” 

 

Ronan turned the radio off. 

 

“For the weekend? 

 

“Yes,” Adam rolled his eyes again. “For the weekend. If you want.” 

 

“Yeah I want. Obviously I want.” 

 

“Okay,” Adam shrugged. “So. I was also thinking, uh, I might pick up some condoms?” 

 

There was nothing else to do with the radio. Ronan’s eyebrows rose instead. 

 

“And some nicer lube,” Adam added, steadfastly ignoring how hot his cheeks felt. He was pretty sure his ears would just drop off in a second, with how fast they were burning up. 

 

“Okay,” Ronan said, nodded. “Cool.” 

 

“If you want,” Adam said, picked a little at a bit of dry skin on the back of his hand. 

 

Ronan shook him a look like, duh . A look wasn’t enough, but, maybe better to press for more when they’re weren’t speeding. 

 

-

 

Do you wanna?” Adam asked, a couple of hours later once they’d finally sped to Ronan’s planned destination. 

 

(A hill that gave a beautiful view of the city and a pretty tree to sit under. He’d even packed them both a coke and a muffin. Ronan definitely knew how to romance.)

 

“Wanna what?” 

 

“Have sex.” 

 

Ronan possibly choked on a piece of his muffin, but managed to regain his composure reasonably quickly. 

 

“Uh,” he said. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I?” 

 

“Dunno.” 

 

Ronan gave him a look. Adam unbent a little. 

 

“I thought, I’m not sure. We haven’t been. Having sex. I thought maybe you didn’t want to? Maybe since we’ve just started dating you wanted us to cool down a bit? Take things slower?” 

 

Ronan laughed a little, leaned in the possibly two inches between them, and kissed him hard. 

 

“I thought you wanted to slow things down,” he said once he pulled back out of the kiss. “Now we’re together together. I just - I know this is all new to you. I mean. It’s new to me too, but like. I’m digging myself a hole. Yeah.” 

 

“Okay,” Adam said. Laughed a little as well. He could still feel his base level of vague anxiety, but it wasn’t sitting so heavily in his stomach anymore. “Um,” he said. 

 

“Mm?” Ronan prompted, kissed him again, the feeling of it heavy in Adam’s lower stomach. 

 

“I want.” Adam said. “I want you to fuck me.” 

 

Ronan looked a little surprised, and then a slow, easy smile spread across his face, and he kissed Adam again. 

 

“Okay,” he said simply. 

 

“I want to fuck you too,” Adam said, words tripping up over themselves, “but I - I really want - our first time - I want -” 

 

“I get it,” Ronan nodded, kissed Adam again, and again. “I get you.” 

 

-

 

Gansey had left the flat for the weekend about three minutes ago, but Adam had had enough of waiting. He’d prepped earlier, before coming over, and he’d spent the last half hour with Gansey and Ronan pretending like he wasn’t counting down the seconds until Gansey would leave. He was supposed to be writing an essay, but it wasn’t holding his attention. He closed his laptop, put it to the side. 

They had jerked each other off on the hill the other night, their kissing getting handsy pretty fast, but he was still - it wasn’t enough. He wanted to be with Ronan. Properly. Without having to keep and eye and an ear out for anyone coming to join them on their lookout.

 

“Do you wanna go to your room?” Possibly not the smoothest line. 

 

Ronan looked up at him from over his switch - Gansey had recently gotten him into Animal Crossing and he was a little bit addicted. He looked a tiny bit confused for a moment, and then he put his switch down and stood up. 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

Adam was quite flattered to see Ronan leave the switch in the living area, though he didn’t have long to be flattered about that because the moment they were in the bedroom Ronan was pressing him up against the wall and flattering him in other ways. 

 

“You look so hot today,” Ronan mumbled, mouth under Adam’s ear, “I think I’ve been half hard since you got here. Been thinking about this since the other night.” 

 

“Fuck.” 

 

Adam hadn’t been half hard because he had been feeling quite… nervous, but now he absolutely was. He wasn’t even being touched at all and he felt undone already. 

 

“That’s the plan,” Ronan agreed, kissed under Adam’s ear, then bit him gently, just a bit further down. 

 

Adam did his best not to moan already. 

 

“If you still want to,” Ronan added, kissed Adam’s neck, “we can go as slow as you want.” 

 

“I want to,” Adam said, nodded as much as he could without dislodging Ronan from kissing his neck. “ Jesus , Lynch.” 

 

They stumbled their way away from the door, towards the bed, literally fell onto the bed, Ronan on top of Adam, his hips heavy on him, his mouth still working its way around and down Adam’s neck. They managed to shuffle a little further onto the bed. Ronan worked his knee in between Adam’s thigh, abandoned Adam’s neck in favour of tugging Adam’s shirt off of him. 

 

“Your shirt too,” Adam gasped, gave up on trying to pretend like he wasn’t as already overwhelmed as he was. “I wanna touch you.” 

 

“Are you in a hurry?” Ronan asked, teasing even while he was also already breathless, “Somewhere to be?” 

 

Yes ,” Adam said, “You do. In me.” 

 

Ronan bit out a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a gasp, then bit down on Adam’s pec, teeth grazing his nipple. 

 

“You gotta give it time, babe,” Ronan said, “You don’t wanna rush this sort of thing.” 

 

“I do,” Adam protested, “I do. I’m already ready. I’m ready .” 

 

“Ah,” Ronan nodded. “Okay, but, with just your fingers? I’m a bit bigger than your fingers.” 

 

This was true. Adam had considered this, he hadn’t made allowance for it. Things weren’t exciting enough just by himself to get past anything more than two of his own fingers. He nodded. 

 

“You don’t need to sound so know it all, though,” he mumbled, not bothering to hide the amusement in his voice. “It’s not like you’ve done much more than me.” 

 

“Nah,” Ronan agreed, kiss just over the ticklish spot by Adam’s bellybutton. “Everything I’ve done has been with you.” 

 

Adam had thought, before he and Ronan had ever kissed, that talking during sex would cool things down, would make things awkward. He hadn’t thought he’d want to talk during sex, had thought it would be too embarrassing. 

 

He loved talking to Ronan during sex. He liked to hear Ronan tell him what he liked, what he was going to do. He liked it even more now because there was this constant… this constant thought of Ronan just dropping into the act the fact that he loved Adam. 

 

They kissed a while longer, Ronan dragging himself further up Adam’s body again so they could kiss languidly and then hurriedly, Ronan’s fingers dragging down Adam’s ribs and catching at his waistband of his jeans. Adam, meanwhile, was working on dragging Ronan’s t-shirt and jumper up so he could drag them both off at once. 

 

The problem with undressing was that they had to pause kissing for a moment to get rid of Ronan’s shirts. Not too much of a problem, because Adam just followed the path of the shirt with kisses up Ronan’s stomach, chest, neck, back to the mouth. 

 

He was hard enough in his jeans that it hurt against his zipper, and Ronan undoing it and the button felt like a heavensend. He palmed Adam over his underwear, kissed him wetly, and then pulled back so he was sitting low on Adam’s thighs, his hands at Adam’s crotch. 

 

“Get these off,” Ronan grunted, started tugging them off of Adam’s hips. 

 

He had to shuffle backwards and off of Adam and the bed to get the jeans and undies entirely off, and when he had, he threw them onto the floor and climbed back onto Adam, his hand going straight for Adam’s dick. 

 


Adam wasn’t sure he could handle Ronan fucking him if he had already cum, and if Ronan kept touching him, he was going to cum already. Which was stupid. He shouldn’t already be so on edge with so little. He couldn’t even blame it on not having orgasmed lately seeing as they had just last night . Adam hadn’t gotten this close so quickly even last night. 

 

It was all about the anticipation he was sure of it. 

 

“I’m not gonna last,” he choked out, his hands gripping tightly at Ronan’s biceps. “If you keep - fuck - Ro, I want you to fuck me.” 

 

Ronan shifted his grip from Adam’s dick to his waist, rubbed his thumbs soothingly up and down his sides, kissed Adam gently while Adam panted, trying to calm his frantic heart. 

 

“Sorry,” he murmured against Adam’s cheek, “sorry. I’ll go slow, sweetheart.” 

 

“Not too slow,” Adam reminded him, “I just don’t wan’ it over before we start s’all.” 

 

They kissed again, slowly until Adam felt more like a human and less like the human embodiment of an alarm, and then Ronan’s hand had somehow made its way carefully down to the inside of Adam’s thigh, and was pushing his leg up a little to make more room in between, and then he was… pausing. 

 

“Where did you put the lube?” 

 

“Oh fuck,” Adam moaned, “It’s still in my bag in the lounge.” 

 

“Okay,” Ronan nodded, bent down to bite a kiss into the softest spot of Adam’s thigh and then stood up. “Stay right here, I’ll be back in a moment.” 

 

Lying there alone on the bed, his legs crooked open, his chest still slowly heaving, Adam had expected to feel a little embarrassed, or, a little worried, but. 

 

But he could hear Ronan’s quick footsteps; and his stomach was still so warm, and his cheeks were warm, and his skin was still buzzing with Ronan’s fingers touching it everywhere, Ronan’s lips, Ronan’s body, warmth, affection. 

 

By the time Ronan came back in, shutting the door behind him again, Adam felt - overwhelmed - with want, and need, and - and - and comfort. 

 

“You good?” Ronan asked as he put his knee on the bed, by Adam’s foot. 

 

He chucked the lube onto the bed by Adam’s hip, the condoms too. Adam nodded, reached both his hands out to Ronan, wordless. Everything was overwhelming right now, not in a bad way, which was unusual, it was just - it was just so much. Ronan pressed into his touch, crawling up Adam’s body to lie chest to chest, to kiss Adam carefully. 

 

“You good?” He asked again. 

 

“Yes,” Adam said, nearly nonsensically proud of himself for being able to use his words. “I just - shit, Ro, I just - you make me feel so good.” 

 

“I’ve not even started yet,” Ronan teased, his cheeks pinker than before, “fuck, I love you.” 

 

Those words, along with the way Ronan was looking at him, along with everything else, traveled down his spine, spilling heat and want everywhere. 

 

“So start now.” 

 

Ronan raised his eyebrows but obliged. He shifted back onto his heels and picked the lube back up again with one hand. His other hand slid down Adam’s side, paused to squeeze his hip, then trailed his fingers down Adam’s thigh. 

 

Ronan rubbed the lube a little on his fingers, but it was still cold and a bit of a shock on his arousal heated skin when Ronan pressed his fingers first against Adam’s taint, and then slid down, letting just the tip of his thumb dip in gently against Adam’s asshole. 

 

Adam hadn’t meant to make a noise, but he couldn’t stop the half gasp, couldn’t stop his eyes fluttering shut. It wasn’t that this touch was insanely pleasurable, it was just that it was… intense. 

 

Fingering himself had been mostly uncomfortable, either because he never had been good at turning himself on, or because he just wasn’t doing right. It had never been intense, it had always been a barely there, odd, uncomfortable sensation. 

 

“Alright?” Ronan asked, his voice so low it was hardly more than a breath. His thumb was still there, rubbing gently against Adam, the lube slick and warming fast. 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“Can I…” Ronan paused, so did his thumb. “Can I?” 

 

Adam was forever grateful that he wasn’t the only one who felt awkward about saying things. He nodded. Licked his lips. 

 

“Please, yes.” 

 

Ronan bent to kiss him, kissed him hard and wet, with a little teeth, and then kissed down his front, pausing to bite at Adam’s left nipple, and then just under his ribs, and then his hips bone, and then just above his pubes.

Then he pushed the first finger in, easy with Adam’s prepping and the lube. Again, it wasn’t sudden amazing pleasure in the movement, but it forced a hard breath out of Adam’s throat anyway, an involuntary jolt of his hips. 

 

“Too much?” 

 

“No,” Adam shook his head carefully, concentrated on the feeling of Ronan’s finger crooked just slightly inside him. “No this feels amazing.” 

 

“Is it this good when you do it to yourself?” Ronan asked, he had started to move his finger in and out, pushing in deep, pressing up harder. 

 

“No,” Adam managed again, fought against the urge to start rocking against Ronan’s finger already. If he got too into it so soon how was he going to handle anything more. 

 

“Hm,” Ronan hummed, somehow his second finger was in with his first, still moving easily even thought Adam could feel a little stretch now. “Fuck.” 

 

His movements were mostly focused on the in movement, pushing in hard and pulling out gentle, his fingers brushing against Adam’s prostate teasingly, never quite enough. Adam was reasonably certain this was on purpose. Reasonably certain that if Ronan did get it quite right he was going to just cum right here and now. 

 

“Okay,” Adam said, his voice breathier than he had intended. “Okay, fuck, I’m ready, Ro. Are you ready? Can you? Please?” 

 

Ronan kept his fingers in Adam while he leaned up again to kiss him, pulled them out slowly while their lips were still touching, Adam’s breath stuttered, Ronan kissed him again. 

 

“Do you need me to jerk you a bit?” Adam panted, “Blow you first?” 

 

Ronan snorted, shifted his position so he could press his hips against Adam’s thigh, his hard cock. The tip of it was already wet, smearing slightly against Adam’s heated skin. 

 

“Oh, fuck.” 

 

“Doing this,” Ronan mumbled, moving his hand back to brush against Adam’s hole, “is fucking turn on enough.” 

 

They had barely used condoms before, mostly only when they wanted to minimise on clean up. They probably ought to have been using them from the beginning, but apparently the two of them were idiots. It was almost a little odd, the little pause in activities for Ronan to put the condom on himself, but also ---

 

It was also nice. It didn’t put a dent in the mood, if anything, it exacerbated Adam’s anticipation, the heat pooling in his gut, his thighs, and chest.  It helped that Ronan was sitting between Adam’s legs, heat radiating off of him, skin against skin. He was swearing a little, either because his hands were slippery with lube and that made putting the condom on hard, or because touching himself was as intense as it was for Adam right now. 

 

“How do you wanna do this?” Ronan asked, condom suddenly on while Adam was distracted with his feelings. “On your back like this?” 

 

Adam had done some research about this, of course. Most people seemed to think that hands and knees was the best way for the first time, a handful of people insisted that lying on your back with a pillow under your hips was the only good way, and some others still said cowboy was the way to go. 

 

“Yes,” Adam nodded, reaching out for the pillows, “I wanna see you. And I - I think I’ll feel more comfortable like this,” 

 

“Okay,” Ronan nodded, grabbed the pillow for him. 

 

Adam lifted his hips, Ronan put the pillow under, they adjusted a little, then a little more. They kissed. Adam ached everywhere. A pleasant sort of ache. 

 

The fact that Ronan’s dick was a lot bigger than Adam’s fingers was already obvious, but it was extremely evident the moment Ronan pressed it against Adam. Not pushing in, just lining up, reading. 

 

“Breathe in,” Ronan suggested, one hand cradling Adam’s chin, the other holding his own dick. “You okay?” 

 

Adam breathed in, nodded. 

 

“Breathe out,” Ronan said. 

 

Adam began to breathe out, and then Ronan’s hand shifted down his body again, gripping his hip, shifting their position. Then he was pushing in. It did hurt. For a moment. A dull sort of ache, a moment of stinging pain, and then - then it was just - then it was - 

 

“Fuuuuck,” Adam gritted out, hadn’t even anticipated the feeling that would accompany this, the - the fullness of it.  

 

“Okay?” Ronan mumbled. 

 

He was holding himself up on one hand, the other hand guiding himself. 

 

“Yeah,” Adam said, “yeah. Yeah. Yes.” 

 

Ronan snorted, adjusted his position slightly, shifting his weight, moving to grip Adam by the hips with both hands. 

 

“I’m going to move now,” he said, “okay?” 

 

Adam nodded. 

 

It didn’t take long for the overwhelmed feel to return, it had barely left in the few moments between actions. Ronan pushed in a few times, careful with his movements but still hard, like he knew Adam would prefer that. He did know Adam prefered that. He knew how Adam liked to be kissed, to be jerked off, to be touched. He knew how Adam liked to sleep, how he liked his food, what to say when Adam didn’t feel like a person. Of course he knew how to fuck Adam. 

 

Ronan wasn’t avoiding his prostate anymore, he wasn’t hitting it as steadily as some porn might suggest was plausible, but he was definitely rubbing it enough that Adam felt like he might keel over if he wasn’t already lying down. 

 

If Adam had more wits left about him, if he didn’t feel like he was truly just on the edge of dying in the very best way, he would have tried to touch Ronan properly, to pinch his nipples, skate his nails over Ronan’s back, to rock his hips in rhythm with Ronan’s. 


As it was, it was all he was capable of to just grip tightly to Ronan’s arms, his fingers flexing at every thrust. Ronan kissing him throughout, sometimes just panting with his mouth against Adam’s. Ronan brushed his hand down against Adam’s dick, and it was suddenly all over.

For a moment he was convinced he was going to just black out, the pressure and the sensation simply too overwhelming for him to properly comprehend, then he was gasping, and Ronan was bent over him, still inside him, gasping as well, his face pink, his eyes shut, his whole body shaking. 

 

“Fuck,” Adam said, once he felt a little bit more in control of his mouth, his senses, anything. “God.” 

 

“Hm,” Ronan agreed, not moving from his bent over position, just pressing his slightly damp face against Adam’s, cheek to cheek. 

 

“Fuck,” Adam said again, for good luck. He found just enough strength to lift his arms again, to wrap them around Ronan’s shoulders. “I think I died and came the fuck back.” 

 

“Tell me about it,” Ronan said, shifted his face a little so he could press a sloppy kiss to Adam’s face. “Watching you while I - I just - Jesus -  I wasn’t sure I was gonna make it.” 

 

A large part of Adam wanted to wait, maybe ten minutes, and then get up and fuck Ronan as well, but. A larger part of was a little too exhausted from having the life fucked out of him, so it was just going to have to wait. He said as much to Ronan, in between heavy breaths, and Ronan laughed, kissed him. 

 

-

 

Sunday afternoon, a few hours before Gansey was due home, Adam and Ronan sprawled out the couch in the lounge. Ronan on his switch again, Adam finishing his essay. He ached a little, which wasn’t surprising. It was a constant reminder of how much he had enjoyed himself the night previous, how good it had felt. It was a little difficult to remain calm whenever he moved and felt the twinge.
Ronan however appeared to be doing some deep thinking. He’d been mucking about on Animal Crossing for a good couple of hours now, a deep furrow between his eyebrows. At first Adam had thought it was about Tom Nook, seeing as Ronan had been mumbling something about ‘greedy raccoons’, but it had been a while since then and the frown hadn’t left. 

 

It wasn’t usually useful, Adam had been slowly learning, to push Ronan for the issue while Ronan was still figuring it out in his head. Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long for Ronan to bring it up. He waited until Adam had submitted the essay and shut his laptop, and then he too put down his switch, hooked his hand around Adam’s ankle, and fixed him with an inquiring expression. 

 

“Yes?” 

 

“Last night wasn’t you trying to pay me back, was it?” Ronan asked, straight up. 

 

Adam gaped at him a little, and when Ronan didn’t laugh it off, or shrug it away, he cleared his throat. 

 

“No,” he said, rubbed at the quickly forming crease between his own brows. “What the hell, Lynch?” 

 

“Just,” Ronan said, looking very intently at Adam’s ankle rather than his face. “I know you’ve been - I’ve noticed that you… touch me more. After you don’t hold my hand. And I just didn’t. I don’t want sex. Or any touch. To be trans-transec-transactional. Y’know?” 

 

Adam nodded, slow. Swallowed. 

 

“It’s not about a transaction,” he said. “I - it’s about - I - it’s -” 

 

“Guilt?” Ronan suggested. “‘Cos I don’t want you to feel like you have to touch me either.” 

 

“Jesus, Lynch,” Adam groaned. “I didn’t ask you to fuck me because I felt guilty. I asked you to fuck me because I wanted you to fuck me and I thought you wanted to too!” 

 

“I did!” Ronan replied quickly. “I do. I fucking loved it. But I - the other stuff.” 

 

Adam felt like he could try and persuade Ronan that there was no other stuff. It wasn’t exactly tangible, Ronan wouldn’t have been making notes and graphs and cross referencing how long Adam had been hugging him for, but. But it would be a lie. And he didn’t want to lie about this to Ronan. Not when he knew he found it difficult to tell the truth it in the first place. 

 

“A bit,” Adam admitted. “But I still want to be touching you when I do. Maybe I kiss you more because I feel guilty but I still love it. I still love you. I still - it’s still - what?” 

 

“Uh,” Ronan said. He released Adam’s ankle, only to lean forward and grip onto Adam’s waist as a counterweight to lever himself upright and mostly onto Adam. “Not to be distracted or shit, Parrish, but, you love me?” 

 

He had thought Ronan knew. That it was obvious. Even if he hadn’t been able to get the words out easily enough before. 

 

“Yes. Of course,” Adam said, still frowning a little as Ronan kissed him. Kissed Ronan back. Waited until Ronan pulled back a little. “I thought - I thought you knew.” 

 

“Hoped,” Ronan said, kissed Adam again. “I wasn’t going to push it so far as knowing without - without verbal, uh, acknowledgement.” 

 

Sometimes being Gansey’s best friend really did rub off on Ronan. 

 

Adam kissed him. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to keep you out of the loop.” 

 

“Anyway,” Ronan said, the tips of his ears pink, “I’m trying to say. Like. You don’t gotta do shit. If you don’t wanna.” 

 

“And I’m trying to say that I do want to,” Adam replied, shifted a little so Ronan could more easily just sit right on top of him on the couch. “That I know how much it - how much it means to you. To be able to. Just. Be together. In public.” 

 

Ronan raised his eyebrows at him, so Adam struggled on with attempting to explain. 

 

“I know this isn’t where I grew up. I know no one here is going to dob me in to my parents, and even if they did, I know they can’t get to me. But I - it was easier when we were hiding it because I’m so used to hiding everything, Ro. I don’t want to hide you. Us. But it was easier. Which isn’t to say that I don’t think this won’t get easier. I do. It’ll get easier. I’ll be able to hold your hand anywhere. I won’t - I won’t get scared. But I - yeah.” 

 

“Okay,” Ronan nodded, leaned in to kiss him again, lightly on the brow. “Yeah.” 

 

“I know you’re not great at patience,” Adam said, teasing a little now, safe enough to do with Ronan in his arms. “But I promise you that I love holding your hand. Touching you.” 

 

“God,” Ronan said, pressed a kiss to Adam’s chin. “I think we should start a star chart or some shit.” 

 

“What?” 

 

“Like,” Ronan held his hand up like the vague motions he was making in the air would help explain his point. “Everytime we have a mature discussion we get a star, and when we get five stars we get a prize.” 

 

“What kind of prize?” 

 

“Uh,” Ronan, speaking mostly out of his ass, hadn’t thought this through obviously. “Dunno. Level up? A bigger star? Sex?” 

 

Adam snorted, swatted at Ronan’s shoulder, let himself be kissed more. He was pretty sure he was getting much better at the whole, being a boyfriend thing.