TRC - Adam/Ronan

Date: 2016-12-07 02:54 am (UTC)
Adam doesn’t sled.




But it doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy the view from the kitchen window where Ronan and Opal are currently hurtling down a hill. The spray of snow as they hit the bottom blows over both of them and Adam laughs as Opal jumps up and begins tugging on the rope at the front of the sled. He can almost hear Ronan calling Opal a little puke. Almost. Letting the sponge drop of out of his hand to plunge below the surface of the water in the sink where he’s currently washing dishes, Adam adjusts his stance, content to do nothing more than watch Ronan. The man - he’s so much less a boy after a few years working on restoring the Barns, rebuilding Cabeswater, and being a dad to Opal - is all sharp edges from his mouth down to his black boots. Shoulders that had once been hard right turns were now wide and broad. Once, when they were lying together in bed with Ronan’s head pillowed on Adam’s chest, Adam studied the family photo on Ronan’s bedside table. Looking at Niall long and hard, he could see the vague man that Ronan would become in those eyes, in that body and Adam didn’t mind one bit sticking around to see if Ronan’s hair would eventually tinge grey at the sides.




But they had years to find that out.




Opal squeals as she bursts in the back door. Adam punches a few numbers on the microwave to set the water to boil and fishes a few packets of cocoa out of the pantry cupboard.




“Opal! Hang that up!” Rona’s voice may sound harsh to anyone who doesn’t love him, but Adam knows different. “Fucking snow everywhere,” Ronan mumbles.




Adam braces the minute before impact as Ronan’s cold hands wrap around his middle and up under his sweatshirt. Wanting to shiver against the cold but refusing to give Lynch the satisfaction, Adam just smiles and turns his head.




“Cold out?”




Ronan’s hands start to travel south, a cold thumb briefly skimming Adam’s navel, before Adam gives. Stepping back and shoving his ass towards Ronan, Adam hears a satisfying ‘mpf’ before the microwave dings.




“Dickhead.”




“You love me anyway.” Adam doesn’t stop to think about what he says. Doesn’t think of anything more than filling up the mugs with hot water and that awful powder that Opal would eat alone without liquid but he catches Ronan’s frozen gaze.




“Lynch? You okay?”




“I do, you know.”




Ronan buries his hands in his pockets, shoulders rising up just below his earlobes. HIs cheeks are bright red and as Adam recalls what he’s just said, he knows that Ronan’s color has nothing - not a damn thing - to do with the cold. The boy Adam loved at seventeen is suddenly standing in front of him now. The beginnings of Frozen can be heard as Adam puts the mug back down on the countertop. Opal’s off-key singing fades away as Adam moves towards Ronan, stopping when they’re toe to toe.




“I do too.”




It’s taken them years - years - to get over shit that had nothing to do with them and a lot to do with baggage from bruises left on their souls before they were even born. Adam’s taken longer to get over the chip on his shoulder that only a Harvard education could’ve disintegrated but standing in this kitchen - the kitchen of his home - he knows it had little to do with learning about business ettiquette and marketing strategies and a whole lot to do with letting Ronan Lynch love him, letting it be okay to be loved by Ronan. Because it was. It was so okay.




“I love you, Ronan.”




Adam doesn’t feel relief at the words or dread either. It’s just a normal Saturday afternoon over Christmas break and the world hasn’t changed because he’s always loved Ronan, hasn’t he?



When Ronan pushes a lock of hair off of Adam’s forehead, Adam shivers again, but not because of the cold. It might be a thousand degrees below zero outside, but it’s warm in here.


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