Chapter Text
There’s a part of Ronan that can barely believes that this is the life he has.
He remembers the anger, the aimless misery of his school years. He remembers loss, and pain, and struggle, and never really believing that it would end. That he would be happy.
But here he is.
He woke up this morning and Adam was next to him, fast asleep in their shared bed. Gansey suggested it after most of the scandal had died down, pointing out that there was no reason for them to stay apart now. There was no reason to pretend people didn’t know. Ronan wasn’t sure that Adam would agree - he’s still so careful, always thinking things through - but he did, and they were given rooms to share. A place to live together, in the comfort of the palace.
And now Ronan gets to wake up next to Adam. He gets to watch the quiet stillness of Adam Parrish asleep, the muted vulnerability of it. He gets to count Adam’s freckles, wake him up with a kiss, or slip out to let him sleep - even now Adam works too hard, sleeps too little when he gets caught up in something.
He gets to laugh at the ridiculous mess Adam’s hair is sometimes after he gets up, and he gets to wake him up with more than a kiss sometimes, if he wants. He gets this, a life with Adam, a life without giving up any of the things he loves.
Not everyone has a chance at something like this. Ronan does not dwell on might-have-beens, but he knows how close they came to losing each other. Every moment together is proof that they’re stronger than that. That somehow, through luck and stubbornness, they found a way.
It wasn’t easy, but Ronan knows it was harder on Adam than him. He’s never cared what anyone thought of him, only cared about fighting for what he wanted. Adam did care, still does, never really had the option not to. Ronan doesn’t understand that, not really, but he doesn’t have to understand something to know it’s true.
After the tournament, they were the talk of the kingdom, just like Adam knew they would be. A few of the more conservative nobles petitioned for Gansey to dismiss them, a well-known priest railed against their sin, many of the courtiers tried to ostracize them. For Ronan, it didn’t really matter. He has never cared about the social circle of the court, never even much cared about what priests say - his relationship with God is a personal thing, church merely a conduit.
But Adam cared. Adam has fought so hard for everything in his life. That’s part of why Ronan was so fascinated by him, back at the beginning, part of why that fascination turned to something else. Adam Parrish is the most stubborn and driven person Ronan has ever met.
He cared what they thought of him. He still does. Ronan knows he should feel guiltier for ruining that, but instead he just feels angry when he thinks about it. The fact that they would lose any respect for Adam just because of this is fucking idiotic - as if he hasn’t proved himself a thousand times over, proved that he’s better than all of them.
He made it up to Adam however he could, back then. Mostly that involved a lot of blowjobs and cruel imitations of the shittier nobles - Ronan has never claimed to be good at comforting people. It made Adam laugh, and that’s all he cares about, even now.
And of course, Gansey was having none of it. None of their friends were. He refused the nobles with a frosty demeanour, took care to treat Adam and Ronan with exactly the same respect and friendship as ever. Henry, always adept at reading a room, turned the tides of the court - somehow he managed to make it fashionable to flout conventions. He and Noah together cultivated a circle of young nobles like themselves, more interested in new and novel ideas than in upholding old traditions.
None of them have gone as far as Ronan and Adam, of course. None of them have the courage - or likely the desire - to openly take a lover of their own gender, refuse marriage, and weather anything that might come their way. But they try new and wild fashions, they experiment with odd technologies, they support young artists. They support the prince’s court, as outlandish and scandalous as his advisor and knight-captain are.
Ronan thinks it’s all pretty stupid, and doesn’t speak to any of them. Adam doesn’t socialize much either - he never has - but Ronan can see the way it smoothes his path. He has an easier time doing his job when he has potential allies to call upon. He is flustered, sometimes, by the odd admiration. And, most importantly, it helps blunt the disapproval of the other nobles.
It’s all right, even if it’s not Ronan’s thing. Even he can appreciate having that buffer, and Henry and Noah are living it up, which is pretty hilarious to watch. So far they haven’t even come close to matching the scandal Ronan and Adam so easily stumbled into, but Noah seems to be trying - Ronan heard a great story about him, a disgustingly expensive bottle of whiskey, and the stained glass window in the great hall the other day. He hopes it’s true.
All in all, Ronan thinks things have settled well. It’s been months since his impromptu public confession, and at the beginning - when things were very bad - he’d occasionally questioned whether it had been a good idea. Well, no. He knows it was logically a bad idea, the kind of thing the Adam Parrishes of the world (thoughtful, analytical, a little ruthless, pretty sexy) would never do. It was a huge gamble. He could have lost everything, and all he could think of at the time was that he was already losing everything.
Now he doesn’t wonder if it was a bad idea anymore. This - Adam, these rooms, their happiness - could never be anything but good.
And he has his home, too. They’ve visited a couple times already, when Adam couldn’t take the snotty nobles anymore or when Ronan desperately needed freedom. It’s a revelation, being home again, watching Adam in the forest with power at his fingertips and contentment in his bones. Declan got them there - he argued the council into agreement in his own Declan way, and even Ronan has to grudgingly admit that without his support they would not be where they are now.
He’s still an asshole. But, well. He’s Ronan’s brother.
This life is, truly, the kind of thing he once thought impossible.
He wakes next to Adam, spends their mornings together - a quick breakfast sometimes, when there are things to be done, but other days are more leisurely. Other days, he can tug Adam back into bed, distract him with kisses, and sometimes they don’t end up with any time for breakfast.
Then Adam is off to be a genius and help Gansey run the kingdom, and Ronan takes care of guard rotation or training or sending out patrols to trouble spots. It might not be glamorous or as free as he could dream, but he’s good at it, and he finds an odd satisfaction in that. He knows Adam is also not always happy with his own work, especially considering the difficulty some of the nobles offer him now. Things aren’t perfect - he supposes life is never perfect - but this is closer than Ronan ever believed he could get.
After everything - training, meetings with Gansey or his father or the commanders, court dinners that bore him, snarling at nosy noblewomen - he gets to go home to Adam. With Adam.
They aren’t showy in public. That isn’t them, it never will be. But everyone knows, and that means he can sit next to Adam, shadow him at banquets, watch him from across the room.
Actually, Ronan did all those things before. But now he doesn’t have to pretend it’s for any other reason than his own feelings.
Now they can leave court together, openly, and there will be whispers and maybe an unpleasant look or two but nothing more. They don’t have to pretend. They can share rooms, share a bed, share a life.
It’s not perfect. Ronan knows the things some people say about them. He just doesn’t care, and though it bothered him at first, he doesn’t think Adam cares anymore, either.
They have Gansey. They have Noah, and Henry, and Blue. They have Declan’s support, for some fucking unknown reason. They have a home, they have their work, they have - fuck. Everything.
It feels weird to be so happy. It feels like the way things should always be, and like a soap bubble, ready to disappear in a moment. But it never does.
When he comes back to their rooms after a late evening, Gansey is there. Ronan’s always a bit put out when he can’t take dinner with Adam - even sharing a court dinner with him is better than nothing, but tonight he had a commander to meet with. It seems like Gansey decided to keep Adam company, which is good (though admittedly Ronan feels a tiny twinge of jealousy, a familiar ache from back when he didn’t think Adam would ever smile at him like that). There are the remains of a meal on the side table, and they’re both smiling when Ronan walks in - Gansey bright and open, Adam charmed and bemused.
“I miss something?” Ronan says, tossing his cloak in the general direction of one of the chairs, and moving a stack of Adam’s books off another so he can fling himself down in it.
“Not at all,” Gansey says, voice cultured but thick with excitement. “You’re just in time.”
“In time for what?” Ronan says, not entirely sure he’ll like what he hears.
“You’ve inspired him,” Adam says, and his tone is dryly amused. There’s a touch of wariness there, which just makes him sound exactly the way he does when Ronan has talked him into doing something he knows he probably shouldn’t.
Things seem more promising then.
“Well, to be frank, he’s right,” Gansey says. “I was inspired by your willingness to risk everything for love. It’s like a storybook - in fact, I’m sure there will be ballads about the two of you before long. If there aren’t already.”
‘Risk everything for love’ sounds pretty fucking lame, but Ronan supposes that’s what happened. Kind of. If you wanted to put it in Gansey-speak.
“So you’re finally gonna run away and become a nerdy history lecturer somewhere?” Ronan grins, sharp and entertained by the expression on Gansey’s face.
“Tempting, but no.” Gansey bites his lip, puts his fingers to his temple, nervous and excited. “I’m going to ask Blue to marry me.”
“Shit,” Ronan says, rather impressed despite himself. He may not care much about politics or the court, but he’s well aware of the consequences - the crown prince up and marrying a woman who, while not low-born, isn’t even a noble? A woman known for ignoring all of society’s expectations, traveling on her own, living life on her terms? Gansey’s parents have been coming closer and closer to negotiating a marriage for him, Ronan knows, a contract with a foreign princess. This would upend all of that.
He’s kind of impressed.
He looks at Adam, who still has that bemused expression on his face. Adam shrugs, the tiniest of movements, and his lips twist into a wry smile. “It’ll be a huge scandal,” he says.
In any other situation, Ronan would expect Adam to be trying to talk Gansey out of this. But Adam’s eyes meeting his speaks volumes. Neither of them have any leg to stand on when it comes to scandal. Adam can’t exactly tell Gansey it would be a bad idea when he accepted Ronan’s rose in front of half the kingdom.
And it’s not like Ronan could say anything either, even if he wanted to. Which he doesn’t.
He grins instead. “Well, damn, Dick. You’re gonna blow us out of the water.”
“If Blue says yes,” Adam points out, though he sounds far more amused than worried.
“She’s still in the city. I must speak with her as soon as possible.” Gansey smiles, bright and excited. “Thank you both.” And then he’s gone, off to do something wild and unexpected and totally unlike him.
It’s gonna be interesting.
Ronan turns to Adam. “Holy shit.”
Adam shrugs. “I didn’t even try to talk him out of it. He supported us - it’ll be tough, but I think we can make it work out.” He still looks a little blindsided, which is how Ronan feels too, but it’s slowly settling into something more like determination. “The king and queen will disapprove, but I don’t think either of them are cruel enough to demand an annulment, if they even can. And everything else, well, we’ll figure it out.”
Ronan can practically see Adam’s mind begin to pick the problem apart, try to find all the angles trouble could come from so he can anticipate them. It’s something he’s shit at, something Adam excels at without even trying. It’s not that Ronan isn’t smart, it’s that he isn’t suited for that kind of logical problem-solving. No one he knows is, not the way Adam is. If anyone can find a way through a problem like this, it’s him.
“You think Sargent will go along with it?” That’s the real question. Blue is her own person, fiercely independent and not inclined to flights of fancy. Ronan doesn’t want to see Gansey get his heart broken - even if that would make their lives easier.
Adam mulls it over for a moment. “I think so. She loves him. And she’s sensible, but…” he looks at Ronan, pretty blue eyes fond. “Sometimes the most sensible people do stupidly foolish things when love is involved.”
Ronan grins and leans down, catching Adam’s chin in his hand and tilting his head up so they can kiss. Adam’s lips are soft, his mouth sweet, and Ronan is reminded once again that he has this, that this is his life now.
He will thank his god for this every moment he can, no matter what the priests might think.
Straightening up, he catches Adam’s hand and tugs him to his feet as well. “Come on. Gansey and the midget are a problem for later.”
“What’s a problem for now, then?” Adam says, amused, already knowing the answer.
Ronan feels his smile turn sharper, loves the responding spark in Adam’s eyes. “I’ll show you.”
He pulls Adam into their bedroom, pressing him back against the door and sliding a hand under the fine fabric of his shirt once they’re inside. This, this is all theirs now - all his. Adam Parrish, in his bed every night, leaning in for another kiss, his slender and beautiful fingers untangling the knot of Ronan’s tunic ties.
Adam pushes Ronan’s shirt off his shoulders and Ronan pushes him to the bed, helping him undress.
He’s not good with words. He never has been, and Adam doesn’t seem to mind it, but he tries to make up for it with actions. He tries to worship Adam the way Adam deserves, the way Ronan wants to worship him. His slim shoulders, the wiry, lean muscles of his body. He’s filled out a little now that he’s fed by the palace kitchens, but Adam is never going to be anything but lean.
Ronan presses kisses down his collarbone, biting at the skin there to hear Adam’s soft gasp, music to his ears. He likes that, the sounds Adam makes, quiet and sudden, always seeming as if he can’t stop himself, sounds of pleasure spilling from his lips despite his natural tendency toward silence. He likes knowing that he’s the only one who hears them.
He feels like he’s loved Adam forever, though he knows it hasn’t been that long. A few years since they met, and though he was attracted to Adam instantly, it didn’t flower into more until he started to know him as a person. His jealousy over Gansey’s friendship faded, and he found himself reluctantly impressed by Adam’s stubbornness, his intelligence, his refusal to let the nobles around him intimidate him. The distance in his gaze, the magic under his skin. There were so many little things that set Adam apart, that got under Ronan’s skin and embedded hooks in his heart.
It was impossible, he thought back then. Adam would never see him like that, would never want him back. His unrequited desire for the untouchable Adam Parrish was just another drop in the pool of misery that was his life - a lost home, a dead father, an estranged brother. A future he wasn’t sure he wanted, a court he didn’t think he belonged in.
But here he is now. Adam undressed, beneath him on the bed, reaching for Ronan with need in his eyes and desire on his lips. Impossible, impossibly beautiful. And all his.
Untouchable?
Not even a little.
Ronan would like to take his time, kiss every freckle on Adam’s skin, every scar that’s a reminder of a harsh memory. But he’s too impatient - he’s often too impatient, and Adam is amused by it, encouraged by it. He likes feeling wanted, Ronan knows. He likes knowing how much Ronan wants him.
Which is good, because Ronan doesn’t think he could hide it if he tried.
He settles between Adam’s legs and bends down, taking Adam’s cock in his mouth.
Adam draws a breath, fast and a little choked, and his head falls back against the pillows. The only drawback to blowing Adam, in Ronan’s opinion, is not being able to watch the expression on his face. The way his eyes shut when it’s almost too much, the way he bites his lip, the hunger in his gaze when he looks at Ronan.
He grips Adam’s thigh, feeling Adam’s muscles tense beneath his hand, and takes Adam’s cock deeper. He likes the weight of Adam, the taste on his tongue, nearly everything about it. It was strange at first, finding pleasure with another man after he’d been told how wrong it is for so long, but Ronan doesn’t think it’s wrong. Not when it’s like this, done with love, with worship. Something holy.
Drawing back, Ronan flattens his tongue against the underside of Adam’s shaft, drawing a low groan from his lips. It makes Ronan’s own cock, already hard as a rock, twitch. This is good, Ronan thinks, he could make Adam come so easily - he loves making Adam come - but it could be even better.
He lifts his head, letting Adam slide from his lips. Adam makes a small sound of loss, of distress, and Ronan grins. He moves up Adam’s body, reaching with one hand to retrieve the ointment they keep nearby. Then he bends down and captures Adam’s lips in a searing, hungry kiss. He can taste traces of Adam in his mouth still, knows Adam can taste himself on Ronan’s lips. Adam arches into the kiss, hungry and demanding, and reaches for Ronan just as Ronan pulls back.
“Don’t be an asshole,” Adam says, and it’s probably meant to be scolding but he’s far too breathless for it to sound anything but needy.
“Don’t be bossy,” Ronan says in return, though his own voice is less mocking than he intended - he’s breathless too. Adam does that to him.
And it’s okay, because Adam likes it when he’s an asshole, just the way Ronan likes it when Adam is bossy. It’s incredible to think that he knows what Adam likes, knows exactly how to touch him and what he’s only in the mood for occasionally. He knows that sometimes Adam wants to tell him what to do, wants Ronan at his mercy and obeying his every command, and Ronan is only too ready to do so. He knows that other times, Adam wants nothing more than to put himself in Ronan’s hands, let Ronan overwhelm him - as if Ronan is the only thing in the world that he truly feels safe letting his guard down around, letting control him for a little while. And fuck, Ronan loves that.
And sometimes there’s a push and pull, and sometimes there’s nothing but need, and sometimes it’s teasing and laughter. And sometimes it’s disgustingly sappy, more so than Ronan would ever want to admit, but he will always adamantly insist to himself that it’s pretty fucking badass to gaze into someone’s eyes and tell them you love them while you bring them off.
He reaches down to stroke Adam’s cock, still slick with his own spit, and he feels Adam twitch in his hand.
“Don’t come yet,” he says, voice low. “I want you to come while I’m inside you.”
Adam bites his lip, stifling a soft moan, and spreads his legs wider in eager invitation. Uncapping the bottle, Ronan slicks his fingers and settles between Adam’s legs again, preparing him.
He’d like to say he takes his time, and sometimes he actually even manages too, but mostly Ronan is too hungry for Adam to go slow. If they take their time, it’s usually because Adam is dictating their pace and he wants to tease Ronan, get him worked up until it’s too much for either of them to take anymore. When Ronan is left to his own devices, his hands on Adam are eager, his mouth greedy, his need impossible to deny.
Luckily, Adam likes that. This time is no different. He adjusts to Ronan’s fingers, relaxing only to tense again when Ronan curls his fingers within Adam, brushing that place inside of him.
“Fuck, Ronan - come on, please.” It’s not quite begging, too insistent for that, but it’s close. It shatters the last bit of self control that Ronan has. Adam is ready, he’s ready, he can’t seem to think of any reason on God’s green earth to take it slow anymore.
Ronan pushes into him, eased by the slickness of the ointment. It’s good, it’s always so fucking good, Adam is tight and hot and he moans with such pleasure when Ronan is inside him. He could die like this and be happy, he sometimes thinks, only then he’d never be satisfied.
He slides a hand under Adam’s thigh, braces himself against the bed, and then he begins to move. Adam’s fingers tangle in the sheets and his head falls back, and he’s so fucking beautiful when he loses himself like this, all dusty hair and tanned skin and long limbs, moaning Ronan’s name.
Ronan loses himself in it too, in Adam, moving inside him, thrusting faster as his pleasure and need build. He can hear Adam’s soft cries, never loud even now but utterly artless, neither of them able to do anything but exist in this moment. Adam’s hips move against him, his back arching to move with Ronan, taking him deeper, urging him on.
It lasts forever and not long enough. With almost no warning, Adam is shuddering and tensing as he comes, his body tightening around Ronan. And that alone is enough to send Ronan over the edge too, a sudden rush of the most intense bliss. His hands grip Adam, holding on to him as they both come, connected on a level Ronan finds it hard to fathom.
It’s so fucking good. It always is, it doesn’t matter what they do. In the aftermath, Ronan feels loose and easy and happy, and Adam lays back against the sheets with a boneless grace. If Ronan were an artist, he’d want to draw Adam like this, content and sated at his hands.
He’d probably be condemned for obscenity, but it would be worth it.
He strokes Adam’s thigh once, gently, then pulls out of him and lets himself collapse on the bed, warm and tired. He could fall asleep like this, but Adam - always careful - retrieves cloth and water and cleans the both of them up. Then he climbs back into bed with Ronan, yawns, kisses him, and curls close to fall asleep.
They both sleep easier with the other there. They’ve never talked about it, but Ronan knows it’s true. He’s been plagued with insomnia most of his life, and Adam works himself to exhaustion if he’s allowed, ignoring sleep. But Ronan can coax Adam into bed - for sleep and other things - and Adam warm and quiet next to him seems to make it easier for Ronan to slip into sleep, as well. Especially if they’ve just done something like this.
He relaxes with Adam next to him, lets his eyes slide shut. He holds on to the moment. He thinks about what he has. Everything, really.
Adam has made his life what it is now - his home, his happiness, his determination to keep them. It wasn’t just him, of course, Gansey is the one who got Ronan this far, gave him a place and a chance to live and recover. So fuck it. He'll do whatever he can to make up for everything they've done. He'll protect Gansey with his life. He'll give Adam the kind of happiness he deserves, the safety no one ever gave him before, love, lots of orgasms. It won't be perfect - they still fight sometimes, the kingdom still doesn't quite know what to do with them. Ronan can be too angry, and Adam can be too cold. But Ronan isn't going to give up, no matter what comes. He knows Adam won't, either.
They've come this far together. Now they'll fight for each other, and for Gansey, their prince, and for his obnoxious, short, angry future queen.
Adam's arm is thrown across Ronan's waist, Adam's nose pressed to his neck. He can feel Adam's soft breath against his skin, lulling him to sleep, and he lets it.
Adam will be there when he wakes.