Savannah had bailed. Ronan couldn't help but think it had something to do with the charming way he'd attempted to strong-arm her - or maybe the flash of unpredictability that he'd felt pass over his bright, wild eyes. Either way, she was gone and Ronan was face to face with his older brother for the first time in years. With no telepathic link required, Ronan counted the emotions while they subtly crossed his prolifically handsome features. Mars was trained to read people. That, and Ronan knew how his brother thought. But mostly he knew exactly which stops Kiernan's “train of thought” had made along the tracks, because they were the same ones Ronan's would have. While Kiernan was sizing him up, trying to decide if Ronan was the genuine article, or someone lookin' for a beating, Mars couldn't help but just feel relieved. The journey home couldn't really end until he saw all three members of his family. One down.
When Kiernan scanned him, Ronan did something he hadn't done in forever, he willingly allowed a telepath to enter his mind. Not that Ronan could block Kiernan out for long, but he could have made it difficult. However, to his brother he was an open book, and apparently an Irish rag doll. The larger man had embraced him, and with a ridiculously little amount of effort, Ronan submitted to the brotherly hug love. It was the first positive physical interaction Ronan had experienced since he'd been captured - the SHIELD doctors’ needles and scans had felt a great deal to similar to Sinister's form of torture for Ronan's liking. Plus, he didn't trust those pricks. But Kiernan, he trusted Kiernan to the end of it all. Which was probably why being wrapped up in his telepathic brother's arms made Ronan feel free of it for the first time. He swallowed back the emotion, glad that the hostess had left. No woman should have to witness the eldest Murphy boys like this.
"What- fucking took ya so long?"
"Traffic was a bitch." He smirked, and even smiled when he felt Kiernan kiss him. He sighed, it was the first time his angry muscles completely relaxed in years. Part of him wondered if he’d even be able to stand when Kiernan put him down.
"Ya look like shit."
"You look like you ate Connie and turned him into bicep – Christ, man." Ronan said with a chuckle, glad his legs did in fact hold him when Kiernan replaced him on the floor. If Ronan was a buck eighty of bitter-brawn, Kiernan was two-and-half bills of well-fed beef. And he'd never looked better. "God..." Ronan breathed out through another smile and went in for another one-armed embrace of his brother.
"Fuckin' Fury. Ye're a bad influence. I haven't said fuck this much since ya disappeared."
"Don't get me started on that fucking fuck. He'd probably have fucking paraded me around at the fuckin' boardroom at the next fuckin' senior meeting if I hadn't told him and SHIELD to fuck off..." Ronan winked, him a bad influence? Never.
"Fuck..." He'd already been standing in Kiernan's restaurant for a few minutes, but he'd finally listened to what his nose and his stomach had been telling him. "It smells like food-sex in here..." And he didn't even think they were cooking anything at the moment. The walls just bled the scents of spices and cheese and chocolate. Best thing he'd had to eat since his escape were still those doughnuts. "If I wasn't headin' straight for Zap... we'd be talkin' in the kitchen right now. But I gotta see her, Kier..." The tears of joy he'd mostly suppressed during Grasp's hug threatened to return at the mere mention of Zap. "I love her...” And Kiernan, by the way, but Kiernan knew that. But there was no way he could have known how much of his survival had hinged on Zap. "But, I just... I just gotta go to her." He knew Kiernan would understand. "Fury gave me her address, said she didn't live at the mansion anymore." Figured, Zap was always looking for something better for herself. Her drive to improve her state, herself, hell - the world, was one of things Ronan loved most about her. "Hey, don't tell her you know, I mean... I really want to surprise her." Ronan’s hands mimicked praying, something the Irishman had done a surprisingly little of lately, while he waited for Kiernan's blessing. And maybe his car keys.