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If there’s one thing Adam Parrish hates about law school, it’s that Ronan Lynch is in his small group Torts section.
Like, the guy is just always on , and he’ll even volunteer to step in and answer a question if whoever got called on is stuck. (To be fair, Adam also does that, and his law school bestie Blue tells him that means he’s a “gunner.”)
Well, call him a gunner all you want, Adam wants to be top of the class. He’s here on a full ride scholarship and he wants to show that he’s worth it, that the school’s admissions department made the correct choice in awarding him the free school.
Blue says that that’s patently stupid, but Adam told her that she should wait until they take IP Law next year before she starts talking about patents.
In any case, Blue’s not the biggest fan of Ronan Lynch- she finds his answers to be “too perfect,” like that’s something you can hate about a person.
If there’s one thing Adam Parrish loves about law school, it’s that Ronan Lynch is in his small group Torts section. It means that they have the same schedule in the first semester- it’s supposed to build rapport among the law students and help them build relationships with their legal peers. Sometimes that relationship-building goes in a more distinctly sexual direction… and Adam would be lying if he said that he wouldn’t be interested in that with Ronan.
Blue, whose boyfriend also goes to Harvard Law but is in a different small section, doesn’t get this the way Adam would like. She’s been dating Gansey for like, six years at this point and has probably forgotten what it’s like to be single and trying to meet someone.
“Just hook up!” Blue will say, like it’s that easy. “Hit on him at Bar Review!” or “Stay behind after class and talk to him for Chrissakes!”
Adam, for the record, has done none of these things. Yet.
***
“I just don’t know how you expect to get together with him,” Blue is saying over lunch break, expertly wielding bamboo chopsticks to nip little pieces of vegetarian sushi. “Because you seem to think that mooning at him during lecture is a) going to help you be top of the class and b) make Ronan fall in love with you.” She swallows a bite. “When in fact, c) it just kinda makes it look like you’re not paying attention.”
“I don’t moon after him,” Adam says. “I look. Respectfully. And not for that long!”
Blue drags a piece of sushi through some soy sauce, looking entirely unconvinced. “That look is not respectful. I can feel the sexual tension, like, through my MacBook screen.”
“Maybe you’re the one who needs to be paying better attention,” Adam says. “Or maybe that’s a hardware problem. Maybe you should bring your computer to the Genius Bar.”
Blue sighs. “Gansey says--”
Adam cuts her off. “You know I like Gansey, but I don’t see how his sappy long-term hetero romance takes are gonna help me here.”
“Hey,” Blue says, licking wasabi off the tip of a chopstick, “you say sappy but you and Gansey are two peas in a pod when it comes to that shit.”
Adam doesn’t see the point in arguing further, so he turns back to his own sandwich and sighs.
“Seriously, though, Adam, you could really try talking to him. Invite him to come to Bar Review this week! That’s not a date, but it’s not not a date, you know?”
Adam considers. “... Fine. But you have to bring Gansey, too.”
“Ooh,” Blue says. “Gansey hates Bar Review. We’ll definitely be there.”
***
Adam can make himself do a lot of things. He got himself through college, worked himself to the bone studying for the LSAT and getting good grades in poli sci, and earned a full ride at Harvard Law. He’s practically Elle Woods, just without all the pink and the tiny purse dog.
He’s done way harder things than just fucking talking to someone he has a crush on. Hell, he moved out of his abusive parents’ trailer at sixteen and has been on his own ever since. So what gives?
Truly, what gives is that Ronan Lynch is unspeakably attractive, and every time Adam thinks about just going up and talking to him, his mouth gets dry and he forgets how to form syllables. Like, it’s not just that he forgets words but that he forgets the fucking phonemes that make them up. That’s how gone he is on this stupid guy in his stupid law school class who’s always got the perfect fucking answer for any question asked by any professor.
Adam wishes that he didn’t find it quite so attractive that Ronan is his most direct academic competitor, but he does. Half the reason to come to class is because Ronan might get cold called or might volunteer an answer and Adam can just listen to him go on about joint and several liability or second degree murder or whatever. Yeah, super sexy stuff.
Ronan Lynch doesn’t look like every other Harvard Law student, either- god love Gansey, but dude is the spitting image of a Brooks Brothers window dressing. Ronan, on the other hand, has a giant tattoo crawling up his neck and a shaved head, a little stud in his eyebrow that sometimes catches the light. He has a sardonic drawl to his voice at times- except when he’s answering in class, when he always sounds perfectly prepared, already like a defense attorney on the stand.
Blue says that Adam sounds that way, too, when he’s getting called on (or volunteering, as gunners are likely to do)- truly, Adam always feels like he goes into some kind of fugue state when he’s talking in class, so he wouldn’t know.
“Just ask him after class,” Blue says as she’s packing her lunch things away in her bag. “You know he always hangs around to talk to Professor Greenmantle afterwards.” She shoulders her backpack and hefts her Torts textbook onto the crook of her elbow. “You coming, or what?”
***
It’s Monday right now, and Bar Review is on Thursday night, which means that Blue is right and today is probably the best day to ask Ronan if he wants to come. On a not-not date. Enough time for him to plan ahead, but not too much. And not last minute, like Adam’s asking on a whim or off the top of his head.
He’s probably overthinking this. Actually, he’s definitely overthinking this, because suddenly Prof. Greenmantle is talking about the minority opinion and Adam had left off taking notes somewhere around the beginning of the Ginsberg majority opinion. Shit.
Well, as long as he’s already behind, there’s no harm in taking a peek at Ronan across the lecture hall- Adam hazards a quick glance up and almost startles as he meets Ronan’s eyes.
Icy, grey-blue. (Not that Adam’s spent a lot of time thinking about the color of Ronan Lynch’s eyes.)
Ronan tilts his head a little bit, looking back at Adam evenly, and then Prof. Greenmantle calls on Noah Czerny in the second row to talk about the Scalia opinion. Adam doesn’t miss the little downward quirk in Ronan’s mouth at the word Scalia , and he has to quickly muffle a laugh. Trust Antonin Scalia to be such a rat bastard that he had to write a separate minority opinion because he couldn’t even agree with the other conservative assholes on the court.
The little quirk of Ronan’s mouth is what decides it, though: Adam’s going to hang back after class. He’s going to talk to him, and he’s going to ask Ronan to come to Bar Review on Thursday with him and Blue and Gansey. Well, mostly with him.
***
Adam Parrish: i’m nervous
Blue Sargent: omg adam you’re gucci
Blue Sargent: it’ll be fine!!
Adam Parrish: yeah but remember when i first got a crush on him and then i had to watch him hook up with kavinsky :(
Blue Sargent: Adammmmmmm
Blue Sargent: first of all, you and i both know that the rovinsky thing lasted for like, three seconds in september
Blue Sargent: second of all, i think he likes you, i get a vibe
Adam Parrish: ROVINSKY???!
Blue Sargent: jfc i never should have told you that. It’s not a thing. It was never a thing
Blue Sargent: to be fair though, this is kind of what you get for messaging me during class instead of taking notes like you should be
Adam Parrish: …
The thing is, the Ronan and Kavinsky… thing … (Ronan refuses to say Rovinsky, even though it does kind of have a ring to it and now he’s never going to not think that) got to Adam more than he’d like to admit.
It was law school orientation, the week before classes officially started, and the law school had organized some little icebreakers for the first year students. Of course, Adam had quickly met Blue and bonded with her instantly over a shared hatred of La Croix flavored seltzer water (“it’s like a kiwi had sex with television static from 1973,” Blue had said, holding the offending law-school-event-provided can at arm’s length). He’d also developed an immediate (and lasting, given that it’s still going strong three months later) crush on one Ronan Lynch, who’d shown up to their official first-year student photos in a cutoff t-shirt that said FUCK AMERICA in large font on the front. The photographer had had to take Ronan’s photo from only the neck up.
Ronan Lynch had also had a surprisingly callused hand- when Adam shook it as they introduced one another around, he’d noticed it, the feel of it in his own. Adam had been so distracted by this (and the stupid eyebrow stud and the tattoo and Ronan’s biceps) that he’d held onto Ronan’s hand longer than strictly necessary for a handshake.
Long enough that Ronan had said, with a little smirk, “You gonna keep holding my hand, or what, Parrish?” and Adam had dropped Ronan’s hand as if burnt. Tasting metallic kiwi in the back of his throat at the fact that Ronan had called him Parrish , like they already had some kind of rapport.
Adam had wanted to expand on that rapport when the whole 1L class went out for drinks the last night of orientation- the law school had rented out a whole bar, which was probably a bad idea for optics but a great idea for getting to know your new classmates (and crushes).
Adam, brave with several craft beers and a few shots, had been just about to go up to the bar and buy a shot for Ronan- at the time it’d seemed like a romantic gesture. He’d been trying to figure out what kind of shots Ronan Lynch might like when the whole thing had been derailed by the extremely loud whooping and clapping of most of the 1L class.
And the vision of Ronan Lynch, shoving his tongue down the throat of the second year student who’d been leading their small group around campus today. Ronan Lynch, who’d looked suffused with pleasure as he and Joseph Kavinsky had broken apart, only to be drawn back together like magnets when the clapping continued.
Adam had closed out his tab and gone home early.
***
As expected, Ronan does linger after class ends to say something to Prof. Greenmantle, and so Adam takes the opportunity to put his things back in his bag as slowly as humanly possible so that he can hopefully catch Ronan at just the right moment.
Which he does, because just as Adam is oh-so-casually walking past with his bag and textbooks, Ronan has finished his conversation with their professor and is also getting ready to head out.
“Parrish,” Ronan says in greeting. He holds out a hand for Adam to shake, then when Adam takes it, he pulls him in and pats him on the back. Adam almost falls over with the sudden closeness- Ronan smells like expensive cologne, something spicy with a hint of sweetness beneath.
“What’s up?” Ronan says, and Adam blanches for a moment, still startled by the physical proximity.
“Good, you?” Adam manages, and Ronan laughs, because he hadn’t asked how Adam was.
“Sorry,” Adam tries again. “I stayed up late last night reading for Contracts- I don’t know how Prof. Poldma expects us to get through four cases today.”
It’s a lie enveloped in truth- a pearl of dishonesty. Yes, Adam had stayed up late last night, but it wasn’t because he was reading for Contracts (although it is an absurdly long reading assignment)- it was because he was thinking about this moment. The moment where he asks Ronan to come with him to Bar Review this Thursday night.
“Yeah,” Ronan says. “It was a lot.” And then he’s just standing there looking at Adam and Adam can’t help it anymore- he just blurts it out.
“Hey, I was wondering if you’d want to come to Bar Review with me on Thursday. I mean, my friends will be there too- Blue and her boyfriend, Gansey, but I thought you could join us?” It all comes out in a rush, and then it’s out and Adam wants to die or throw up or possibly melt into the floor.
“Oh,” Ronan says, and from this close Adam can see that he has a light dusting of freckles on his nose and cheeks. It’s fucking adorable. “Yeah. That sounds fun.”
“Yeah?” Adam can’t help repeating it, like he needs to hear Ronan say it again, say that he’ll come.
“Sure,” Ronan says. “It’s a date.”
***
There’s a break before their next class, and Adam makes a beeline to where Blue’s waiting for him on a bench outside the library.
“So... how’d it go?” Blue is almost vibrating with excitement, tugging at one of several necklaces she’s artfully layered over the top of her outfit.
“He hugged me… kind of? So, good? I think. Yeah. Good.”
“Did he say he’d come?”
“Oh. Yeah. He said he’d meet us there. And… um. We exchanged phone numbers.” Adam can feel himself blushing, and Blue grins like the sun.
“See?” she says. “I told you it’d work out.”
Adam narrows his eyes at her. “I’m pretty sure you told me that I would get what I deserved from facebook messaging you during class.”
“I never said that what you deserved wasn’t something good,” Blue says, rolling her eyes, then holding out a hand so that Adam can haul her and her heavy textbooks up from the bench.
“Spoken like a true lawyer-to-be,” Adam says, and then he and Blue head off to find a quiet corner to go over the Contracts reading once more before class.
Adam’s distracted the whole time, though, always thinking that he feels his phone buzz with a text message. Finally, he slips his phone into his backpack and zips the bag shut, removing the temptation.
When he takes it back out in the few minutes before class starts and everyone’s still trickling into the lecture hall, there’s a message.
Ronan Lynch: see you on Thursday, Parrish
Adam rides that high the whole rest of the day.
***
Ronan texts him again the next day, and again on Wednesday morning. It’s nothing deep, just chatting- mostly about readings for class, but it’s something . Adam feels like they’re connecting, like meeting up tomorrow night for Bar Review really will be like a date. (Or at least not- not a date.)
On Wednesday afternoon during lunch, Adam’s alone at a table in the common area, rereading the cases for Contracts later this afternoon. Blue’s got a “lunch date” with Gansey, which is when the two of them sit at a separate table and make gooey eyes at each other over sandwiches, so Adam’s on his own.
He’s halfway through his notes on Hawkins v. McGee , the infamous “hairy hand” case- notorious for its usage in the classic law school movie The Paper Chase - when someone sits down across from him.
“Hey,” Ronan Lynch says, as if he sits down to have lunch with Adam every day. “How’s it going?”
At least this time, Adam’s not too flustered that he responds to a question he wasn’t even asked.
“Doing well,” he says, looking up from his notes. “Just making sure I’m ready for Poldma later.”
“Yeah,” Ronan says, “gonna be a real Paper Chase today, huh?”
They fall into light conversation as they both pull out their lunches and eat, but Adam feels an undercurrent to it- the way Ronan holds his gaze sometimes, and the gentle smile that touches his face. Ronan also stays there even after he’s finished eating, stretching out with his hands behind his head.
He gives a bone-cracking yawn just before it’s time to leave for class, and grins sheepishly.
“Up too late studying again,” he confesses, and it’s really way too cute for words. It makes Adam do stupid shit like immediately imagine the two of them studying in bed together, Ronan’s head leaning over onto Adam’s shoulder…
Jesus. He has to stop picturing this while the object of his affections is literally right there , because if he keeps doing that he’s going to blurt out something stupid.
“Ready for class?” Adam asks, and Ronan grins again.
“As I’ll ever be.”
***
Blue gets called on for Hawkins v. McGee , and she performs flawlessly- Adam’s insanely proud of her. He also feels at least partially responsible- he had been the one to suggest The Paper Chase for their movie night last week.
Adam Parrish: nicely done!!
Blue Sargent: jesus christ that never feels any better, does it
Blue Sargent: or do gunner freaks like you and lynch not even feel it
Adam Parrish: i reject the term gunner freak
Adam Parrish: although i do not reject being paired with ronan LOL
Blue Sargent: i bet you don’t
Blue Sargent: speaking of that, i saw u guys on your lunch date today….
Blue Sargent: cuuuuuute
Adam Parrish: stop it
Blue Sargent: you’re blushing
Adam Parrish: i’m taking notes now, goodbye
***
It’s Thursday. Finally. Adam feels like the time between when he’d hung back after class to ask Ronan to come to Bar Review and now had sped up and slowed down, in equal parts. He’s both apprehensive and enormously excited about tonight.
He leaves for class early and treats himself to a fancy coffee drink on the way, just because. It’s not something he normally does, but today feels like it’s going to be a good day. He even sends a quick text to Ronan, which may be ill-advised but Adam doesn’t even care.
Adam Parrish: see you at 7 tonight- I’ll meet you inside
He doesn’t even dither for too long over using “I’ll” rather than “we’ll” (since, after all, Blue and Gansey will be there, too, along with plenty of other students from their class).
Ronan texts back just as their first class is about to start, and Adam catches his eye quickly across the lecture hall.
Ronan Lynch: :)
It’s just a simple smiley face, but it means a lot to Adam- even though he doesn’t get a chance to talk to Ronan again at school, he’s still clinging to the hopefulness of that smiley face all the way to the bar.
Which he arrives at early with Blue and Gansey, at his own insistence.
Ronan’s not there yet- but it’s okay. Adam’s repeating that to himself over and over in his head, and Blue’s verbalizing it, patting Adam on the shoulder. Gansey just looks nervous, but that’s kind of how he looks whenever Blue drags him out to stuff like this, so Adam doesn’t think it’s because Gansey is worried that Adam’s not-not-a-date might possibly stand him up.
And then it’s time, and Adam’s sipping at his drink incredibly slowly so that he can pretend like he just got there when Ronan appears. Which he will. Any second now.
Adam checks his phone- no messages. He opens up the text conversation with Ronan, then closes it, then opens it again. He taps into a new message, but then abandons it. He’s on his way, definitely. Just running a little late, that’s all.
***
Thirty minutes late. Adam’s leg is jiggling so hard that he’s going to have to switch sides soon or he’ll be lopsided. Then, finally, his phone buzzes, and Adam almost drops it because he’s so eager to fish it out of his pocket.
Ronan Lynch: sorry but i’m not gonna make it tonight
Adam waits for another message, but it never comes through.
Like, what. The. Actual. Fuck?!
There aren’t any new messages from Ronan later that night, or in the morning, either. Nothing during Crim, even though Ronan is there in his usual spot. He doesn’t even look up to catch Adam’s eye, like he’s been doing every day for the past week or so. He’s just sitting there, hunched over, seemingly concentrating on his notes.
Well, if that’s the way he wants to be, so be it.
Before Torts starts, Adam messages Blue, even though she’s sitting right next to him.
Adam Parrish: i can’t even look at him
Blue Sargent: maybe he has a good excuse
Adam Parrish: he can shove his excuse up his ass
From Adam’s (extremely quick!) sideways glance at Ronan from across the lecture hall, Ronan looks flushed- with guilt, he’s sure.
It’s because Adam is extremely stupid that he doesn’t put it all together until later on in class when Prof. Greenmantle cold-calls Ronan and Ronan just… doesn’t answer.
“Lynch?” Prof. Greenmantle repeats, sounding a little annoyed. “Could you please give me the holding for the case?”
And then Ronan clears his throat and blinks, once, twice. He still looks flushed, freckles standing out on his cheeks.
When he speaks, his voice sounds rough . Like, in a coughed-all-night kind of way, and it breaks oddly in the middle of words and he has to clear his throat again. His answer is technically correct, too, but lacks the flourish Ronan’s answers usually include. It’s bare bones, and Prof. Greenmantle seems to recognize that it’s probably torturous to keep Ronan talking with his voice wrecked like that and mercifully moves on to someone else to give him the finer points of the majority opinion.
Across the lecture hall, Ronan is gulping water from his water bottle and his face is creased with discomfort- probably from a throat so sore even swallowing water is painful.
For the rest of the lecture, all Adam can think about is how Ronan didn’t skip out on their not-not a date last night because he’s an asshole. It’s because he was sick . (And clearly still is.)
Adam formulates a plan to hang back after class again and talk to Ronan and see how he’s doing, see if he needs anything. Near the end of class, he even surreptitiously digs through the pockets of his backpack to see if he has any spare cough drops or anything. Adam comes up with a single wrapped Hall’s lozenge and a pocket pack of tissues to give to Ronan, but when he glances up, Ronan’s gone.
Adam pokes Blue’s ankle with the toe of his shoe, but she ignores him until Prof. Greenmantle officially ends class five minutes later.
“Did you see where Ronan went?” Adam asks, and Blue shakes her head.
“I think he got up and left,” she says. “His voice sounded awful , poor thing.” She cocks her head in thought, then says, “At least now you know that he didn’t stand you up.”
“Yeah,” Adam says, not really paying attention. “At least.”
***
Adam finally finds him on a bench in a back hallway behind the mock courtrooms. He’s coughing, bent over almost double. It sounds terrible, wrenching sounds that must hurt his already-raw throat.
“Hey,” Adam says once the fit seems to have passed, and Ronan lifts his eyes slowly to meet Adam’s. They’re jewel-bright, shiny, and it seems like it’s taking a lot of effort for him to focus. Up close he’s so clearly unwell- cheeks pink but deathly pale everywhere else.
“Hey,” Ronan says back finally, a beat too late. He tries to clear his throat, then breaks into another round of painful coughs. When he finishes, Adam’s sitting next to him on the bench, holding out that Hall’s cough drop he’d found in his backpack pocket.
“You… brought me a cough drop?” Ronan asks, still slowly, voice breaking. He takes it out of Adam’s palm, clumsily, and unwraps it and puts it in his mouth. “Why’d you do that? After I”-- he pauses, wincing-- “After I stood you up last night.”
“Shh,” Adam shushes him. “Don’t worry about it.”
Ronan still looks uncertain- unsteady even though he’s sitting down.
Before he really knows what he’s doing, Adam finds himself placing a palm on Ronan’s forehead.
“You’re burning up,” Adam tells him, and Ronan just shrugs a little. “How long has this been going on? What on earth are you doing at class today?” Almost like he’s one of their professors, hounding Ronan for answers about a case they read for class.
Ronan tries to clear his throat and ends up wincing, lifting a hand up to hold his throat, like that might soothe it.
“Started feeling bad yesterday afternoon. Came on fast. Fuck.” He swears as a shiver runs through him, and Adam tsks in both sympathy and concern. Christ, Ronan is so sick.
Adam ghosts a hand over Ronan’s shoulder, wanting to do-- what? Warm him up somehow? He’s already boiling with fever and is clearly too ill to be in class. He should be home in bed.
“Hey,” Adam says softly, and Ronan swivels his gaze over slowly, so slowly. It looks like every movement hurts him and it makes Adam’s heart pang in his chest. If he didn’t know before that this was more than a crush, well. Now he does.
“I live really close to campus,” Adam offers. “And, uh. You could come and crash on my couch during class. No offense, but you look like you need it.”
The swiftness with which Ronan acquiesces tells Adam more than he wants to know about how sick he really is.
“I can drive you home after I get back from class,” Adam says as they’re making their way across campus to Adam’s apartment.
“Sure, yeah,” Ronan mutters, and Adam tightens his grip on Ronan’s bookbag. He’d left his own with Blue, sprinting down to the commons where Blue and Gansey had been eating lunch.
“Ronan’s sick and I’m gonna let him crash at my place,” Adam had said in one breath. “Watch my stuff?” and then dropped his bag at Blue’s feet without waiting for an answer. “Thanks. Gotta go.”
Adam’s sure that Blue will have plenty to say about that later, but that’s a problem for future Adam. Right now, his focus is Ronan and on getting him horizontal. Jesus Christ, he needs to not think in those terms- like, of course he also wants to get Ronan horizontal in a sex way but he’s not going to take advantage of him when he’s sick. He means that he wants Ronan to lie down so that he’ll feel better.
“Thanks,” Ronan says when they’re at the door of Adam’s apartment and Adam’s fumbling with his keys. “You, uh. Really didn’t have to.” He looks like he wants to say more, but then he’s coughing again and when he finishes he looks so miserable it’s all Adam can do not to hug him, smooth his sweaty forehead.
“Here,” Adam says as the key finally slots into the lock and he opens the door. “It’s not much, but--”
“But it’s a couch,” Ronan mumbles hoarsely, and then he’s gingerly sitting down, then moving to his side, one of the couch pillows between his elbow and his cheek.
Adam’s incredibly grateful for his post-Bar Review rage-induced cleaning session, because the apartment is fairly tidy, but doesn’t look like he was expecting company. Not that Ronan would likely notice- he seems exhausted, and he’s clearly feverish. As Adam looks on, Ronan cracks an eye open and shudders.
“Hang on,” Adam says. “I’ll find a blanket. And, like… some cough medicine? Nyquil? Did you take anything before class?”
Ronan shakes his head. “Didn’t wanna be fuzzy for class.” He barks out a humorless laugh, rough and painful-sounding. “Not that I didn’t sound like an idiot anyway.”
“Hey, hey,” Adam tells him. “You’re sick. It’s okay. You can’t be perfect for every single answer.”
Ronan just looks up at him, eyes hollowed out by the dark circles underneath. Adam, despite his best intentions, remembers how Blue had told him at the beginning of the semester that she’d googled every single member of their small group class. Chief amongst her findings was the fact that Ronan Lynch’s father had been some bigwig attorney who’d gotten himself murdered in some kind of embezzlement deal gone wrong.
Adam can’t say for sure that Ronan’s trying to atone for sins of the father, but… it’s a pretty good guess.
Adam tries his best to focus then on what he can do in the immediacy to help Ronan feel better- he plucks the blanket folded up at the end of his bed and drapes it over the top of Ronan, who mumbles a thank-you and closes his eyes again. He digs through his medicine cabinet and finds a thermometer and a mostly-full bottle of Nyquil from when Adam had gotten sick around Halloween.
“Hey,” Adam says again, kneeling down next to the couch, setting the medicine and a glass of water on the coffee table. “We should get your temp, just see how worried we should be.” He aims for a jocular tone but doesn’t quite hit the mark.
Ronan doesn’t fight him on the thermometer- just lays there with it in his mouth until it beeps and Adam takes it from him.
“103,” Adam reads out. “Jesus Christ.”
“I run hot,” Ronan says hoarsely.
“I’m sure,” Adam says, then blushes when he realizes what he’s said. “I mean- you should take the medicine now, and then I have to run back to school. I’ll take notes for you.”
He watches, a little impatiently, as Ronan swallows the medicine and a gulp of water. All he wants to do is stay here and make sure that Ronan’s okay, but he also really, really doesn’t want to miss class. He hasn’t missed a single class of law school yet and also, if he’s going to be taking notes to share with Ronan, he wants them to be impeccable.
“I’m sorry that I have to go so soon,” Adam says, and a smile haunts Ronan’s lips.
“‘S’okay,” he mutters, voice cutting out a little. “Thanks again. I owe you.”
Adam doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just tells Ronan to feel better and that he’ll be back soon, then leaves.
Once he’s outside, the full force of it hits him: the guy he has a huge crush on is inside Adam’s apartment, right now , and will still be there when Adam gets home from class. Ronan Lynch is currently in a feverish doze on Adam’s couch. Jesus fucking Christ.
Adam practically runs all the way back to the law school. Blue has his backpack sitting on Adam’s assigned seat in their Contracts lecture hall, and Adam makes it in just on time.
“Details later,” Blue hisses just before Prof. Poldma starts pontificating, and Adam just nods, a little breathless still.
***
Blue Sargent: i can’t wait. Give me deets. NOW
Adam Parrish: now who’s not paying attention in class
Blue Sargent: as if you are- I can see you grinning down at your desk even now
Blue Sargent: so out with it
Adam Parrish: ronan is currently asleep on my couch
Adam Parrish: he’s, like, REALLY sick, with a fever and everything
Blue Sargent: um. UM. sleeping on your couch?!
Adam Parrish: well i couldn’t just let him shiver on a bench at school now could i
Blue Sargent: of course not… hence, your couch
Adam Parrish: I live close to campus!! You know that
Blue Sargent: I do
Blue Sargent: still…. Convenient…
Adam Parrish: i’m driving him home after we finish class
Blue Sargent: suuuure
***
When Adam gets back after class, Ronan’s still asleep, but he blinks awake once Adam flips on the overhead light.
“Shit, sorry,” Adam says. “It’s a studio, and there’s just the one main light…”
“It’s okay,” Ronan says. He sits up, slowly, rubbing at his throat.
“How are you doing?” Adam asks, and Ronan just shakes his head a little bit.
“Christ, I feel awful,” he says.
Adam takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch. Ronan’s leaning back into the cushions, massaging his temples like his head hurts.
“Joe never would’ve done this,” he croaks, blinking at Adam with sloe eyes.
Biden? Adam thinks wildly, as it takes him a minute to realize that Ronan’s talking about Kavinsky.
“Oh, yeah?” Adam says, both wanting and not wanting to know more.
“Yeah,” Ronan echoes. He pauses to cough raggedly. “He wasn’t about all this shit. Human stuff, y’know.”
He looks over at Adam with that hollow look again, and Adam can’t help it- he leans forward and reaches for Ronan’s hand.
“Fuck,” Ronan groans, and Adam snatches his hand back just as quickly, but then Ronan’s grabbing Adam’s wrist. “No, no-- I mean. Fuck. I’m gonna get you sick.”
“I don’t care,” Adam says, meaning it. And then he’s kissing Ronan, who’s too warm and tastes vaguely medicinal, but who kisses back.
“Fuck,” Ronan says again when they break apart. “I wanted to be the one to do that first.” He’s breathing hard, and his eyes are still all bright and shiny.
“God, you’re still feverish,” Adam says. “Shit. I’m sorry. I should’ve waited until you were better. We keep learning about all this reasonable person shit in class. Like, would a reasonable person kiss his crush when said crush is practically delirious? Debatable.”
“Seems reasonable enough to me,” Ronan says, and then clears his throat painfully. “Ugh, ow.” His pretty face creases in pain, and Adam startles.
“Jesus, I’m sorry. Do you need anything? Like… I don’t even know. Tea?” Adam’s never taken care of someone else like this before and he feels out of his element. When he’s sick, Adam wants to be left completely alone to recuperate, and if he thinks about that for too long, he’ll have to deal with some Childhood Issues and he’s not ready for that right now.
Right now, his focus should be Ronan, and doing something other than gazing at him like a lovesick idiot. Ronan, who’s actually sick and whom Adam should drive home like he promised so that Ronan can rest in his own bed, not just crashed out on Adam’s couch because he’s too sick to be in class.
Except then Ronan’s shifting on the couch and somehow he ends up with his head in Adam’s lap, and then Adam’s running his hand through the bristles of Ronan’s shaved hair. He can feel the unnatural heat emanating from him, hear the snuffle of Ronan’s congested breathing.
“Just- lemme lay here for a minute,” Ronan mumbles, eyes already closed. “Just--” his voice breaks, raspy, and Adam almost misses the next bit. “Just-- don’t wanna be alone.”
***
It’s really hard to drive Ronan over to his own apartment, which isn’t even an apartment but a whole-ass townhouse in a suburb. Not because the drive is difficult, because it isn’t, but because Adam doesn’t want to leave Ronan alone.
Sure, he’ll probably be fine- they make a pit stop at a Walgreens on the way and Adam fills up a plastic shopping basket with cough medicine and microwaveable soup and sore throat spray- but Adam worries anyway.
“You sure you’ll be okay?” he asks as he’s dropping Ronan off, car in park in the driveway.
“I’ll check in,” Ronan says, pressing a hand to his sternum as he coughs a little. “Promise.”
“Okay,” Adam says, and he lets Ronan go, because yes, they’ve shared a kiss and definitely some germs and there’s certainly a mutual interest there, but… it’s not like Ronan is his boyfriend or anything. A reasonable person wouldn’t creepily hang around to make sure their classmate is walking to the door okay, even if said classmate is deathly ill.
Adam hates being reasonable.
***
Of course, Ronan doesn’t check in. Adam doesn’t hear from Ronan again until the next morning, just as Adam’s dithering over whether to send Ronan a text himself to see how he’s doing.
Like, what relationship stage is “I let him sleep on my couch in a feverish daze and then we kissed” ?
Ronan Lynch: hey
Adam Parrish: he lives!
Ronan Lynch: haha yeah. I’m alive
Ronan Lynch: barely
Ronan Lynch: and all thanks to you. thank you, really
Adam Parrish: it was nothing
Ronan Lynch: I owe you an actual date. Like, when i’m not all gross and contagious
Adam Parrish: that… that sounds really nice. I’d like that. A lot
Ronan Lynch: good. Me too
Ronan Lynch: anyway… i’m still sick but like… i wanna see you again
Ronan Lynch: do you want to come over and study or something?
Ronan opens the door to the townhouse looking soft and bed-rumpled in plaid pajama pants and a Harvard Law sweatshirt. He pads in sock feet back through the kitchen, leading Adam to the living room, where he’s set up a little nest on the couch.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he says. “I’m like, super drugged up right now. But I definitely feel a lot better than yesterday.” He coughs a little into the collar of his sweatshirt but grins at Adam when the fit passes.
“Good,” Adam says emphatically. “You were really out of it.”
“Barely remember getting to class,” Ronan confesses. “Then Greenmantle called on me and I thought I could tough it out to the end of the lecture but I just couldn’t.”
“Hence me finding you on your deathbed on that bench.”
Ronan ducks his head a little, and it’s so adorable it should be illegal. Adam’d know; he’s on his way to being a lawyer.
“I do,” Ronan says, stepping close to Adam, “remember kissing you, though.”
“Good,” Adam says, “because it was pretty memorable on this end, too.”
***
They end up taking a nap on the couch together, and when they wake up, Ronan’s fever is back up and most of his drugs have worn off. He coughs raggedly as Adam administers more cough medicine.
“You’re good at this,” he says, massaging his throat. “Taking care of me, I mean. Ugh.” He makes a face after swallowing the medicine. “I’ve, uh. Missed that since my mom died.” He doesn’t say anything about his dad, but Adam figures that a lawyer dad who was sunk deep enough into illegal shit to get murdered by gangsters probably didn’t have a lot of time to wipe snotty noses or make soup for his sick kid.
“It’s easy,” Adam says, because it’s true. He doesn’t know Ronan all that well, not yet, but he senses a kindred spirit in him, and not just because he’s also a gunner. Adam’s excited to get to know him even better.
***
Monday morning, Adam gets called on in Crim and his voice gives out midway through the case facts. After he finishes croaking through his answer, he doesn’t even have to look at what Blue’s messaging him to know what she’s going to say.
Blue Sargent: I KNEW IT
Blue Sargent: I KNEW YOU GUYS KISSED, I FELT A VIBE
A message from Ronan comes in at the same time.
Ronan Lynch: Sorry i got you sick
Ronan Lynch: but at least it lets me return the favor ;)
*****