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It's nearing dusk. The air feels cool on the bare skin of Ronan's arms, the BMW's hood frigid beneath his body. He sips his beer with a twinge of guilt—he doesn't like to drink in front of Matthew. He'd cracked the bottle without even thinking after their day in Cabeswater with their mother. The melancholy of leaving her had drawn him to it like a moth to a flame. Coping mechanisms. He sighs and sets it down on the hood between himself and Matthew and looks over at his brother. He's watching the sky, the slightest hint of a smile curling his mouth. His angelic golden curls are in disarray and he wipes them from of his forehead.
"Why do you think you made me look like Mom more than Dad?" Matthew asks, still smiling at the stars above.
Ronan shuts his eyes for a moment and silently curses Declan. Because who else could have told Matthew the truth? Ronan knew he had to be told at some point. It was only right, seeing as he was so intrinsically tied with Ronan and his mortality. "You know?"
"I suspected. I know now." Matthew turns his head and the smile on his face slowly fades. His eyebrows turn down. "Hey... don't feel bad, Ronan. I don't feel less important or less loved or less real. I feel very loved. You wanted me so much that you pulled me out of your dreams. That's way better than our parents... ew."
He catches Ronan's eye, almost daring him to smile. When Ronan finally gives in, Matthew's answering grin is luminous. Ronan shakes his head and picks up his bottle of beer.
"I have no idea why. I was only three years old. I didn't even know about you until recently. I didn't understand any of it until recently."
"That's what Mom said."
"Mom told you?"
Matthew nods. "Not in so many words. But she hinted. She's worried about you, you know. She worries that you take responsibility for everything. Everything Dad did... She wants you to be happy, not burdened."
"I'm not burdened." Ronan sounds almost argumentative. Because maybe he is a little burdened. But with a gift like his, thinking such things makes him feel like an ungrateful asshole. He's not like Kavinsky, or even his father. He has permission. Cabeswater trusts him. It's colossal. Overwhelming.
"You should talk to her about it, maybe? I know that's hard for you."
Ronan shrugs.
"You can talk to me, too. You know that, right? You don't have to bottle things up."
Ronan takes a sip of his beer. What must that be like, not bottling things up? Not letting your own deepest, darkest thoughts hold you under water until you can hardly be bothered to fight your way back to the surface? He picks at the label on the bottle with his fingernails. Matthew's stare is heavy on the side of his face.
Trust is such a weighty thing, such an unwieldy lump in his throat. He's learning to do it more these days. He used to be able to count the number of people he trusted on two fingers. Now he has to use both hands. It unnerves him sometimes, the thought of letting them all in. The terrifying possibility of being rejected just when he's allowed himself to be vulnerable.
"Hey, Matthew? Can I tell you something... about me? I mean, that I've never told anyone before."
"Of course. You can always tell me anything." Matthew inches closer like he knows how hard this is for Ronan, like he senses the importance of what he has to say.
Ronan takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He can't look over. He can't watch his brother's reaction. "I, uh... I like guys."
"You mean you're gay?" There is no hint of malice in Matthew's voice. It carries its usual lightness.
Ronan worries his bottom lip between his teeth. "Yeah."
"Okay."
"Just okay?"
Matthew shrugs. "I mean, it's fine with me. Not that I would have any say in the matter. Or should."
"Declan would disagree with you." Ronan feels a hand on his shoulder and turns to find Matthew's earnest face only inches from his. He squeezes Ronan's shoulder.
"Well, then Declan would be wrong."
Ronan nods and Matthew squeezes his shoulder again before he withdraws and lies back. Ronan tips his beer up with a shaking hand and takes a long drink.
"So... Gansey?" Matthew asks with a sly grin.
"What? No. Why do people always think that?"
Matthew shrugs. "He's handsome and impressive and you're close, I guess."
"No. Definitely not Gansey. He's like my brother. Another brother who I can actually stand."
"Declan loves you, Ronan. I wish you two would..." He trails off with a sigh.
Ronan grunts and sets down his bottle. He doesn't want to have another conversation about Declan. He would rather spill his guts ten times over than talk about Declan.
But Matthew doesn't press the issue. He stretches his arms above his head and fiddles with the windshield wiper blade. After a moment, he looks over at Ronan. "I don't like guys. Or girls. I don't think about anyone in that way. Is that weird? Is there something wrong with me, do you think?"
"There isn't a thing wrong with you. And if anyone ever insinuates there is, you send them to me."
Matthew nods distractedly. "The sex stuff is just kinda weird to me. I know you'll probably say it's only because I'm young—"
"I would never say that. Only you know how you feel. No one else can tell you shit about how you feel. Don't ever let anyone— Not even Declan, okay? Especially not him. If he starts trying to make you—to set you up with girls or make you do anything that makes you uncomfortable, you tell him to fuck right off, all right?"
Matthew turns over on his side. "Did he do that to you?"
"I don't want to talk about that."
Matthew nods. "So, if I'm never interested in that sort of relationship—"
"Okay."
"Just okay?" Matthew brushes a curl off his forehead, and grins at Ronan.
The noise of Adam's shitbox Hondayota cuts through the quiet and Ronan leans up on his elbows to watch as Adam turns off the engine and exits the car. Noticing them, he walks over to the BMW. His greeting smile is weak. His eyes are hollowed with exhaustion. Ronan wishes for the millionth time that he could do something about that. That Adam would allow such a thing.
"What are you guys up to tonight?" Adam asks.
"Fuck all." Ronan tries too hard to be flippant. He knows he does. He has to bite his tongue to stop himself from telling Adam that he looks like shit. The truth of the matter is that Adam never looks like shit to him. Even when he seems about five seconds away from collapsing.
Matthew smiles sweetly. "We're just having a brotherly chat."
"I'll leave you to it, then," Adam replies. He raps his knuckles on the hood of the BMW and turns to head inside. Ronan tracks him with his eyes until he's disappeared behind Monmouth's heavy door.
He sighs and falls back onto the hood.
"So... Adam?" Matthew asks.
Ronan can practically hear the grin in his voice. He sighs again. "Not on purpose."
"Hmm... Good choice, Ronan's brain." Matthew sneaks Ronan's bottle of beer and takes a swig.
"Hey now. You're too young to be drinking that." Ronan snatches it back.
"So are you."
Ronan snorts a laugh. "Don't start being a smartass, now."
"Well I am a Lynch."
"That you are."
Matthew laughs and Ronan lets him steal the beer again. Only a swallow remains in the bottle anyway.
"Ronan?"
"Yeah?"
"You're a good brother."
"You're a good brother, too."