RONAN + GANSEY
G BESIDES RONAN’S DUMB MOUTH | COMPLETE
Gansey’s snippy little comment about if Adam was missing rattled around inside Ronan’s skull like a hand grenade with the pin pulled. He firmly believed their house full of hostages were not all getting out of this alive. But he was goddamn determined to make sure Adam and Gansey were two of the ones who did. Of course, doing that and not stalking them both like a creep was next to impossible so he had to focus on the wall of nearly empty bookshelves in front of him and ignore the burning need in his chest - the one that growled go find Adam over and over like a particularly grueling club remix.
Wrecking some furniture had better fucking help.
“Alright so, the safe’s over that way…” Ronan gestured over his shoulder at the half-toppled bookshelf behind him and then rubbed his hand over the back of his shorn hair. The room muffled his voice to a soft murmur annoyingly, thanks to the shouting the day before. “I already looked behind the two bookshelves next to it and didn’t see anything like a fucking secret door or whatever. We can move this one next.” He gave Gansey a taunting smirk over his shoulder. “Or we can take a peek under your murder rug.”
Gansey can be very venomous with his words. They can be pointed and sharp. Condescending. Richard Campbell Gansey III can wield his words like weapons. But, most of the time, it is unintentionally. This time, however, Gansey meant for his words to sting. The guilt got to him by the time he reached the library.
He had announced himself higher than a whisper and something about this library forced his voice to a whisper. The second time it had done that. As odd and inexplicable as it was, Gansey made no mention of it to Ronan. He moved right into the Gansey that wanted to find his Welsh King. All serious and scholarly. He even had been wearing his wire-framed glasses because he didn't arrive here with his contacts.
Gansey pushed them farther up on the bridge of his nose. He wandered over to the safe, one ear listened to Ronan. Idly, Gansey spun the dial on the safe. "Isn't there a way to open these things by listening to the clicks?" He gave Ronan a look sidelong.
Then he looked over his shoulder to regard the rug for a moment. He shook his head. "Let's move this other shelf, first." He moved to one side of it, hands getting a nice and tight grip. "Okay. On three."
Gansey in glasses was always weirdly comforting to Ronan. Like it kept him firmly in Gansey the Anxious Nerd territory and almost made Ronan forget his friend had a shiny plastic smile at the ready for politicians.
“We tried the click thing. Just leave it, Dick,” Ronan grumbled. He was disappointed that all attempts to open the safe had failed so far. He’d get back to looking for a combination once he was sure Gansey wouldn’t be wandering the halls, pitifully calling out Jane like he belonged in a cheesy romance novel. Pulling up the sleeves on his bomber jacket - literally THE only cool thing in the suitcase of clothes he was stuck with - Ronan got his end of the bookshelf and tried to call out “one-two-three” in a loud rush.
It came out a soft hush, so it really wasn’t any surprise that Ronan shoved the bookcase aside with extra viciousness.
Gansey’s nose scrunched, an attempt to keep his glasses from riding down his nose. Ronan had said something just then and it had Gansey shifting his weight to one side. His mouth opened to tell Ronan to speak just a little louder.
The bookshelf wobbled a little bit but Gansey was quick to steady it. He had enough upper-body strength (thanks to being on the rowing team) for it to not topple over even when they hadn’t pulled it at the same time. He grunts, straining himself a little, pulling it a little further away from the wall.
“Don’t dump the shelf onto the ground, Ronan,” he instructs. “You’ve had your fun.”
Ronan casually flipped Gansey off and didn’t at all help with steadying the bookcase. He was a little wary about speaking now, stupid room. Wedging into the space now opened up behind the bookcase, he felt along the wall for a bit before grumbling and sliding back out again.
“Nothing.” He reached over to the next bookcase and trailed his fingers along the titles of the books there. “Maybe there’s a secret latch to open a door somewhere. Like pull the right book and--” Ronan opened his arms and made a creaking door sound.
Gansey is used to being flipped off and took no offense at Ronan’s fuck you. He smirked, a faint curve at the corner of his mouth. He held the bookshelf steady so it didn’t topple over when Ronan squeezed himself between that and the wall
“Honestly,” he asked, letting out a huffed breath. He followed Ronan, moving to the next bookshelf. “You would imagine that being the case.” With a place like this, with a library such as this, there was bound to be something else. Something else besides a safe. It was a perfect place for an entrance to a secret passage.
Gansey tips one of the books by its spine in the same manner as pulling that fake book to open up an unseen door. Nothing happened. “We have got to find the code to that safe.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” Ronan grumbled. He picked up a book and held it open so the pages pointed towards the ground, flapping it up and down like a slip of paper with a combination on it might just tumble out. This obviously wasn’t the most effective searching method, the way they were both trying one chaotic thing after the other, but Ronan’s head was a mess of worry that he’d never voice out loud.
“This is fucking stupid.” He sighed and jammed the book back onto the shelf. Maybe he’d check the windows again, even if that guy had said there was no getting through. People lied. “You think there are hidden cameras?”
“I always love your commentary, Lynch,” Gansey murmured. Like Ronan, Gansey picks up a book to leaf through the pages. If the code is stuffed in one of these books, it will take ages to find.
He sighs, agreeing with Ronan. With a little more care, Gansey slides the book between two others that are in the bookshelf. “Probably.” His attention ticks up to the ceiling of the library and then it drifts to the corners of the room. Gansey knew if there were cameras, they would all be hidden from plain view.
“This all so very tiring. I don’t have time for this.” All this time is being wasted. He could be out and looking for his Welsh King. His annoyance piqued and Gansey kicked a book that was already on the ground. It skittered across the floor.
Ronan lit up a little, childishly pleased to see Gansey lose his cool. It didn’t help anything, but nothing much would. Still, he felt a dumb little need to ease his friend’s stress. He stepped to Gansey’s side and slung an arm around his shoulders.
“Look, I’m not gonna tell you how shit plays out at home, but I promise you Glendower isn’t going anywhere, okay? Who even knows if time is passing here anyway?” That kind of magic wasn’t foreign to them, after all. The possibility actually eased some of his own anxiety, if not by much. Ronan thumped Gansey on the back with a wide palm and stepped away. “You wanna keep looking or do you wanna break something?”
Their shoulders knocked together when Ronan draped his arm around Gansey. “I don’t expect you to tell me, Ronan. I know you won’t either.” He knew Ronan wouldn’t take that away from him, the adventure, the excitement. If Ronan told him everything, then what would be the point of it all? It would kill all his drive to do much of anything.
“Let’s have one more look,” He said, moving to the next bookshelf. “After this we should head to the kitchen and see what Sir Reginald T. Carstairs have left for his guests.”
Gansey being Gansey resulted in an affectionate eyeroll. Ronan would’ve actually been shocked if he’d said ‘tell me everything’ or ‘why yes, Ronan, I would like to break something’. He hated feeling like a rat in a maze, and a more selfless person would’ve wished his best friend weren’t stuck here with him, but Ronan was not that noble. He was unapologetically relieved Gansey was here.
“Alright, bossy.” Ronan smiled and made a dramatic gesture out towards the rest of the room. “Lead the way. Adam’s in here somewhere. We’ll grab him before we raid the kitchen for hostage snacks.”
Gansey’s hand slipped into the front pocket of his trousers, wanting to pluck a minty leaf out of it. But, when he felt nothing, he sighed. “I also don’t understand why they took our belongings.” It was unsettling.
This entire situation was unsettling.
He turned away from Ronan, pivoting on the heels of his shoes to look at the library in its entirety. Books on the floor. The suspicious stain on the carpet. The locked safe. His eyes ticked over the bookshelves, trying to discern if one was different than all of the others.