Valentine’s Day didn’t mean jack shit to Ronan. But Adam Parrish meant the world. And after being a stressed out shithead for the better part of a week, he really wanted to do something special for his boyfriend. The only problem with that was that his ideas were all dumb. God, this was the dumbest. It was too late to back out now, though. His strategy of telling Adam he’d changed something about the pond was in full swing.
It was just past sunset and maybe a little chilly, but the moon was bright overhead. As they stepped through the brush and past a few last trees, the lanterns bobbing on the surface of the water came into view. There was a small rowing boat next to the dock Ronan had built while Adam was away at Harvard. Inside was a basket full of snacks and soda, with a small bouquet of dreamt flowers tied on top. They were golden and soft and occasionally grew to be the size of sunflowers if you looked at them too long, which was about as good as Ronan could get at turning his feelings for Adam into a physical thing on short notice.
“I realize this is the cheesiest shit I’ve ever done to you,” he sighed, pressing in close to kiss behind Adam’s ear, “but I’m hoping you’ll see it as a huge step up after bleeding black goo all over you a couple days ago.”
Adam was aware that something could absolutely not be wrong with the pond, but after everything that had happened lately, he wasn't about to take that chance. There were too many variables in Vallo that not investigating strange occurrences with Ronan's family home could prove dangerous. He had worried, all the way there—the pond was gone, the pond was full of nightwash, the pond was acid again like it was in Cabeswater.
Oh, no. It was a boat, and soft lights, and a basket and flowers, and—Jesus Christ—something that was currently wrapping around Adam's heart in a vice-tight grip. Adam's emotions were a rollercoaster as he let out a strange, shaky relieved breath when Ronan kissed behind his ear.
"You are such an asshole," Adam said, without any heat behind it. Only fond, amazed, and goddamn touched. He knew that Valentine's Day was bullshit for both of them, because they were intense with each other all the time, but the gentler romantic things Adam liked. He just never wanted to admit it.
He laced his fingers with Ronan's and dragged him the few extra steps to where the boat was. "This is way better than the black goo," Adam assured, as he stepped into the boat. And then Whitney Houston started playing. Adam laughed, shaking his head as he climbed all the way in. "Anything else you want to surprise me with?"
A relieved laugh burst out of Ronan. He was still convinced it was dumb but it had made Adam laugh so as long as they didn’t fall into the icy water, this was already worth the embarrassment of being cheesy as hell. He climbed into the boat and carefully lowered himself across from Adam. There were oars, but it wasn’t a lake so they could probably just float for a while. He waited until Adam took a seat and then he pushed them away from the little dock.
“Damn, how many surprises do you need, Parrish?” Ronan smirked and deposited the flowers in Adam’s lap so he could dig around inside the basket. “I didn’t cook dinner, if that’s what you’re asking. You’re welcome.” His cooking skills still left much to be desired. It was too bad he couldn’t dream up skills. Then again, he’d probably just make himself a demolitions expert or something if he could do that.
“Coke, water, or fizzy apple cider in a plastic champagne flute because we’re fancy fuckers?”
"I don't need any more surprises," Adam said, admiring the flowers in his lap, the same way he did about all of Ronan's dream things. There would never be a time where he wasn't in awe of Ronan or the creativity he possessed. For a few seconds, he could pretend they were at the Barns in Virginia, pushing the boat out into the pond—which was definitely bigger than the last time he had been home.
"I just want to know how many I need to pull out of my ass for the next time." Not that their relationship had ever been built upon exact reciprocation and expectations, but Ronan had done something romantic. Adam wanted Ronan to enjoy himself the way Adam was right now, even when the music switched to My Heart Will Go On. The timing was too coincidental, considering they were floating across the pond now.
He watched Ronan dig through the basket before he reached across and placed a hand on his arm. "Let's be fancy fuckers," Adam said, but he was the one who grabbed the sparkling cider and flutes, pouring them each a glass and handing one over to Ronan.
"What do you want to toast to?"
Rolling his eyes affectionately, Ronan let Adam take over the pouring and scooted the basket to the side. It was mostly full of inexpensive snacks, because money was still a tight spot. He’d never particularly needed a lot, but he was still used to just buying whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it. He’d paid four grand for the damages to Adam’s dorm room without batting an eye and now he was thinking he might actually have to stick to a strict budget for the first time in his life. Thank God Adam Parrish was the master of budgeting. Even if Ronan wished he’d never had to be.
“Uhhh…” He took the offered glass and scowled at it. “We’re alive. We’re together. I…know this is all fucking stressful and I should wish you were at school, safe, but…” He’d wanted to keep things light. He’d made this ridiculous playlist because he’d wanted to give them both a night off from the dread of everything they couldn’t control. But that really wasn’t how either of them worked. He took a gulp from the glass. “I’m a selfish asshole and I’m just really grateful you’re here.”
How strange it was to hear school as safe. Adam's brow furrowed briefly at that, and he realized he didn't want that. And he certainly didn't want Ronan to want to wish that. Ronan didn't get that luxury to pick a place and just be safe; they had to make it that way. The Barns here could be, for however long they were stuck in Vallo. Adam's own sting of losing Harvard was mellowing anyway, though not gone. There had been evidence to prove that maybe no one even knew he was gone—he had clung to that theory recently. It helped.
But it helped more that Ronan was here. He lifted his drink and mimed their glasses clinking together, before taking his own sip. "I'm glad you're a selfish asshole. Don't think I don't. It's not selfish if you want to be with the person you love," Adam said, his expression soft but serious. He wanted to cross to the other side of the boat and kiss Ronan senseless and senselessly, but the moment he started to shift his weight, the boat took an unsteady tip.
He sat back down, and grabbed Ronan's hand with his free one instead. Adam drew it in close, pressing his lips to Ronan's knuckles, one by one. "We can be selfish assholes together."
Ronan’s next boat was going to be a pontoon boat so he could tackle Adam to the deck and take him apart under the stars. This boat forced him to just prop a boot up next to Adam’s hip and press the long line of his leg against Adam’s side. He tried not to let the heat in his face freeze him up too long. But Adam’s mouth even on his knuckles was still enough to stop him in his tracks for a moment.
"Ubi bene, ibi patria," he murmured. He fell quiet, just watching the floating lanterns cast soft light across Adam’s striking face and listening to the dumb music he’d picked, and then he leaned over closer to him. “Pretend we’re home and we’ve figured everything out and, I don’t know, you’re on summer break or some shit. Do you wanna come to Ireland with me?”
Adam took the opportunity to lean into Ronan when he put his foot up. They may not be sitting side by side, but Adam always found ways to magnetize parts of himself into Ronan's constant orbit. There had been times where he had reached into empty spaces for Ronan's hand, or looked to his deaf side expecting Ronan to be there as his buffer and coming up short. There had been lonely nights where he rolled over on his plastic dorm mattress and blindly reached for a person who wasn't there. How had he gone on for so long at Harvard without him? The idea was impossible, improbable, now.
"Tu es domus meus," Adam murmured into the back of Ronan's hand and gently let go.
Adam was more than content to drift on the pond with their cider, and the glow of the lamps making everything soft and fuzzy, but he liked this theoretical talk Ronan was offering more. It was nice to pretend they would go back, that things would be solved, that there were plans stretched before them.
"And what would we do in Ireland?" Adam asked, arching an eyebrow. "Is there a Lynch family home you haven't told me about? Or were you thinking of being a true tourist and kissing the Blarney Stone and watching how they make Guinness?"
Adam being sappy right back made Ronan want to sing along to the music. Ewan McGregor was belting out Come What May better than he could though, so Ronan let him have it. He smiled, helplessly fond, and downed his cider instead, letting the flute dangle from his fingers as he leaned back on his bench.
“Got an aunt and uncle out there. Haven’t seen them in forever, though.” He didn’t know if either of them were dreamers. He’d barely had an idea what he and his dad were at that age and his memory was spotty as fuck after the years of binge drinking. “Maybe we should do the tourist shit. Walk around all the charming castles with fanny packs. Send Gansey pictures that’ll drive him nuts,” he laughed.
He hummed thoughtfully at Ronan's mention of his other family. Adam only knew of the Lynch brothers, who were inescapably tied to each other. Another absence in this weird transdimensional kidnapping. But Adam shook it off; if he thought too much about Vallo his mind would ruin this small peace Ronan had conjured for him, for them.
"I knew you were hiding your like for fanny packs," Adam said, with a teasing smile. "We can wear matching t-shirts and get a selfie stick. Maybe even have one of those thick guidebooks that are filled with all the best places to eat and we can only have traditional Irish food for the full experience."
But almost as quickly, his expression went a little sad. Because when? The idea was nice, in theory. But Adam didn't want in theory. He finished off his cider, and quickly put the glass down by the basket.
"I love you, you know," Adam said, but his voice did a funny strained thing as he said it. Like the words were too much. Sometimes they felt that way when it came to Ronan. "I hate flying but I would cram myself into an airplane and suck it up to go to Ireland with you."
“A fucking selfie stick.” The image of them being touristy idiots on purpose was too good. Ronan barked a joyful laugh that set birds off from a bush next to the pond. Risking the boat turning over, he wobbly shuffled to his knees and shoved the basket aside so he could squeeze himself between Adam’s legs.
“That is the sappiest shit,” he whispered, smiling and stroking his hands up along the outside of Adam’s thighs. “We could take a boat, but I don’t even know how long that even takes.” He dipped forward and buried his face in Adam’s collarbone, his voice muffled and rough. “I’ll just have to keep you distracted for nine hours or whatever.”
Adam didn't waste a second. The moment Ronan was close enough and the boat wasn't going to immediately flip, his hands were on his shoulders, sliding over his back, gathering him close. His fingers were tracing the sharp, dark lines of his tattoo through his shirt, because Adam could be predictable. And expectation said Adam Parrish must have his hands all over Ronan Lynch.
"Shut up, you like it," Adam said, but not unkindly. It was so easy to be affectionate with Ronan. More than he thought he was capable of. Touch-starved and needy for most of his life, Adam thought the edge would eventually wear away. But loneliness could overtake him at any second, and this blissfully romantic gesture, where he and Ronan could just be, filled him up, chased away the other worries. He would never be satisfied and that was okay.
He slipped his hands to Ronan's cheeks, tilting his face up so they could kiss, and kiss, and kiss. Adam was still holding Ronan's face, when pulled away to say, "You can't give me a hard time for being sappy when you're the asshole that planned a very romantic candlelit boat ride, with—Oh God, is that from Dirty Dancing?" Adam started laughing, with an incredibly embarrassing snort.
Ronan smiled into Adam’s neck before he was pulled into a kiss. Well, “pulled”. It wasn’t like he was anything but malleable in Adam’s hands. If Adam had decided to break off the kissing and toss Ronan in the pond, he’d have managed it easily. And had a boy come up for air with a cheesy ass grin either way.
“Now I….had...the time of my life…” Ronan sang, obnoxiously overacting it. He pushed up to his feet, careful but not nearly balanced even with his hands on Adam and his center of gravity kept low. “You know you’re wrong, Parrish. I don’t like it when you’re sappy. I love--” The boat rocked wildly as they floated into the muddy swamp edge of the pond and came to an abrupt stop. Ronan tumbled forward with the momentum, laughing and half in Adam’s lap. “Shit.”
Adam's smile grew and grew and grew, with Ronan singing. Even in their relationship, they both still managed to be absolutely ridiculous shitheads to each other, and impromptu dramatic karaoke was no exception. Was it stupid to be more in love with Ronan when he pulled stunts like this? Probably, but Adam was happy, happier, when he didn't hold himself back.
Unconsciously, his hands went to Ronan's hips to steady him as he stood, but it didn't do much for when the boat hit the mudbank. Adam barely caught Ronan—mostly with his lap and less with his arms—as they sat, a tangle of limbs, dead in the water. Adam tried to be serious, but Ronan's laugh was infectious.
"We're stuck, in this boat in the pond—" Adam looked over the side to see if there was any immediate solution and came up short. He wouldn't let go of Ronan, however. "I didn't bring my phone, and I bet, I bet you convinced Gansey to shoo for awhile, didn't you? Sexiled him. And now no one is going to find us for hours."
Adam did not sound upset by this.
Being a shithead afforded Ronan a few breaks and one of them was rarely feeling guilt over the small stuff. Big things were a different story, of course, but being sprawled across his boyfriend in an unmoving boat with romantic lighting and a big moon overhead? Leaving the oars on the dock seemed like a blessing in disguise really. He gave Adam a slow, dangerous smile and reached up to tangle his fingers in his hair.
“I told Gansey he could have the house to himself and he picked the library, so that one’s not my fault.” He didn’t mention the oars or even so much as glance towards the dock. He just tugged on Adam’s hair to pull him down towards his smirking mouth. “I’ll get out and dig us out of the mud in a bit, Parrish. Just quit your bitching and kiss me.”
Adam liked that Ronan thought ahead to spare Gansey any uncomfortable, recklessly intense coupling from them. And it was Gansey's fault for choosing to be completely off-site while Adam took advantage of their small boating mishap. The hands in his hair also helped to not think about Gansey while he was about to indulge in a desperately romantic makeout session. Adam's brain went a little fuzzy, and he let out an unwanted needy noise.
"My hero," Adam breathed out, all smiles. And there was nothing else left—except Adam's hands sliding up Ronan's back and the smooth musical slide into Sixpence None the Richer’s one-hit wonder.