Chapter Text
Declan’s wedding invitation arrived on a Thursday in late March, left on Ronan’s bed along with all his other clutter. He very nearly missed it, if it weren’t for the soft crunch of the paper under his back. He awkwardly bent to find it, not willing to sit up or roll over at all, too exhausted to bother to move after class today where he had to make a five course French meal and burned his apron. He still vaguely smelled like smoke. His fingers were covered in bandages and wraps after cutting himself so much this week, one fresh from only an hour ago. At least he didn’t need stitches. Again.
The seal on the back of the envelope said D.L & A.J. in a heart shape, and Ronan immediately wanted to puke. With a lazy pair of fingers he dug through the side of the paper, and then immediately regretted the decision when a shit load of glitter collected on his stomach and on his bedsheets.
“Fuck!” He sat up at once, regretting this more, as now he littered his floor in the shiny shit. “Where’s the warning label on this fucking thing for this sort of shit? Pretentious fucking….”
Noah gently rapped his knuckles on Ronan’s open bedroom door. It took all but a second for him to see Noah holding an identical envelope in his hands, and glitter clinging to his workout shirt.
“So you’ve opened it,” Noah said. “You understand my plight. It’s stuck to my goddamn hands.”
He started to come into Ronan’s room, ignoring the pile of clothes on the floor and the mess of his school supplies by his feet. He sat down beside Ronan, head to his shoulder, as he gestured to the invitations. Noah was a very clingy roommate.
“I thought you loved glitter,” Ronan muttered. “And what even is this?”
“Your brother’s wedding invitation,” Noah said. “Thought you read it.”
Ronan grumbled low under his breath a few choice curse words at the reminder Declan was getting married to his girlfriend of a thousand years, Ashley James. It made sense now why their initials were on the letter.
Mr. and Mrs. James request the honor of your presence at the marriage of their daughter
Ashley James & Declan Lynch
June 12th
The Carriage Rooms at Montalto ; Northern Ireland
Reception to Follow
“Oh, Christ, it’s in Ireland?” Ronan should’ve known his brother would pick across the goddamn sea to get married, the fucker. He flipped the little white sheet around to see there was more information on the back, which he chose to currently ignore in his rotten mood. He threw the whole thing on the floor with the rest of the shit he didn’t want to deal with, then slumped into Noah’s arms.
“You knew it was bound to happen,” Noah said. He was still sweaty from his dance practice, and smelled like he needed a good shower, but Ronan was too mentally and physically exhausted to move. He allowed him to pat at his hair, his curls still growing but coming back. It was better for his culinary career to have a shaved head, but recently he was starting to like the sign of life upon his skull. Someone recently told him he looked good with his curls, and it gave him the incentive to grow them out.
"Why do I have to go?" Ronan whined.
Noah bent over him and found the abandoned invitation on his floor, fetching it again to hand it over. There was a backside to the thing, and on it it informed him he was a groomsman. A fucking goddamn groomsman.
“You’re sort of in the wedding,” Noah explained. “Think it’d be rude if he was one man short, don’t you think?”
It was only recently that Ronan tolerated his brother again, having a rocky relationship growing up until he left for college, but in recent years they worked to fix that, as best as they could. It was still surprising, though, to be invited to his wedding like this. He’d only recently learned of their engagement.
“This is my nightmare!” Ronan exclaimed. Just the thought of the whole thing was giving him hives. Being stuck up there in front of god knows how many people, in Ireland , a place he’d only been to a couple times as a kid and barely remembered, surrounded by people who he barely tolerated, in a goddamn suit. The thought of how tight the tie or bowtie would have to be was already getting to him, and he subconsciously reached for his throat.
“But hey!” From behind him, Noah grabbed at his shoulders, and with his perky movements his whole bed and person jiggled together. “I think all of us got invited. So on the upside, we'll all be there for your breakdown.”
He rolled his eyes, certain that Noah was being patronizing a little, grasping his shoulders from behind him, smelling like hours of built up sweat. Agitated, he rolled his shoulders to motion for Noah to get off him, but of course he didn’t.
“Don’t joke about it,” he grumbled. The thought of all of them being there only helped a little, though he was still going to suffer. He never liked family outings. “Even Parrish?” he thought to ask, realizing that the likelihood of Adam flying to Ireland for a glorified stranger’s wedding was about as possible as Gansey not putting his foot in his mouth when he talked to a girl.
“I think so.” Noah shrugged, and Ronan relaxed a little at his lack of awareness of why he asked the question. “I bet Declan doesn't have many people, so he's just invited anyone he's remotely enjoyed talking to.”
Ronan snorted, half amused by the thought, but then he was wholly reminded of how incredibly sad that was. He sometimes wondered if he was ever getting married. He wondered if he was ever going to fall in love. Or, at least fall in love with someone who didn't see him as comic relief to his tiring day.
“Do you want to go grab something to eat?” Noah asked. “I know how tired you are after school to cook.”
The reminder made Ronan sore all over, his hands burning a little from their wounds. “Yeah.” He stood up to start changing out of his clothes that still smelled like smoke, into something that didn’t. “But you shower first,” he said, noting the way sweat still clung a little to Noah’s forehead from his workout. “You stink.”
“I smell like a dancer,” Noah said, defensively.
“Yeah, well, you've been a dancer for one month.” He smirked, feeling a little better already. “Then you were an artist before that.”
“I kept getting charcoal on my hands.” Noah pouted, staring down at them.
“There's other forms of art, you know,” he reasoned, but Noah was already standing up too and schlepping towards the door.
“I’ll go shower, your royal majesty, if it pleases you,” he said with a groan.
“Thank you.” Ronan put a hand over his bare chest. “My nose, and all other noses, thank you.”
Noah rolled his eyes.
(4:01 p) hey
(4:02 p) are you studying
(4:03 p) do you want to grab dinner
(4:03 p) with me and noah
(4:04 p) you know I'm not gonna stop until you reply
(4:04 p) i regret this friendship every day
(4:04 p) :)
(4:05 p) no dinner thank you. I'm studying
(4:05 p) you still need to eat
(4:06 p) I have frozen dinners I'm fine
(4:07 p) as a chef I am offended
(4:07 p) you aren't a chef yet
(4:08 p) tell that to your mouth every time I make something you eat and moan from
(4:08 p) ok that was ONE time and you'll never let me live it down. it was hot!
(4:09 p) hehe this is who you're friends with, parrish
(4:10 p) like I said, I regret this friendship every day
(4:10 p) let me study
(4:10 p) k. :'(
(4:15 p) jerk, i don't actually regret it. but stop pestering me when I'm studying. I need to focus
(4:15 p) you're the one who keeps texting me xoxo
~-~-~-~-~-~-~
Friday evenings were when Adam tried to finish off all his schoolwork before the weekend. He liked to have the weekend free to hang out with friends and to work without worry. He had a part time job at the labs at school as a lab assistant, who basically helped when another kid came shouting that his experiment backfired. It was a lot less stressful than his high school days now that he had a full ride at school, but he still needed money for expenses. Living in New York City wasn't cheap.
This evening went the same as every other weekday evening Adam didn't have work or school. He was holed up in his room, hunched over at the center of his bed, studying physics for an assignment due sometime next week. His hair was a mess as always, in need of a haircut he kept forgetting to get, flopping around his face in tiny little waves from the amount of times he ran his hands through it in stress.
Blue could be heard trying not to be loud in the living room of their apartment, but she wasn't ever very successful, because the less noise she tried to make the more she made. It didn't matter. He'd become used to studying in louder places, that not even the sounds of the city could distract him.
It was a cold bitter early spring/late winter outside, which was poor for Adam's succulents that sat in a row on his windowsill. They hadn't gotten proper sun in a week, but they were still thriving, in the warmth of his and Blue's apartment. The one furthest from him now just started sprouting a new floret from a fallen leaf.
But Adam couldn't enjoy that right at this moment, because he was having trouble focusing.
He was frazzled by this one point in his book, which he had been reading over and over again for the better half of the last hour. He had a pen in his mouth, pencil in his ear, and highlighter in his hand that he kept tapping the end of at his book while the solution continued to escape him.
So of course this was the perfect time for his door to swing open and someone to walk into his room with something that smelled amazing. Before he even had time to look up, his pen was removed from his mouth and in its place a spoon was inserted. Whatever it was was hot and amazing, and he angrily suffered peeling it off the spoon when Ronan pulled it back out of his mouth. He angrily pulled off his glasses to rub his tired eyes, as Ronan sat down on his bed, sitting on his homework.
“It’s curried lentils with coconut milk,” Ronan said without prompting. He lay so lackadaisical on Adam’s bedsheets, propped up by his elbow as he fingered the papers under his hip. Ronan's curled brown hair was falling a little into his face, having grown out enough at this point to do that. There was the instinct to push it back out of his face, but he resisted the urge to fix something that didn't need fixing.
Adam wanted to whack him with his glasses, but they were prescription and already didn’t sit on his face right to the point they kept falling down his nose every five seconds, so he wasn’t about to break them more. They were nice glasses, though, round with clear frames. Ronan made a joke once that they looked like goggles a scientist would wear in a lab, and he became very fond of them ever since out of spite.
“I didn’t ask,” Adam sighed. He noted Ronan's disinterest with his own concoction, but said nothing of it. "What are you doing here?" he inquired with suspicion. "You know this is my designated time to study."
Like always, he smirked at Adam like a viper, his sharp features doing nothing to help ease Adam's mood. He didn't need this right now. His fingers were clawing at Adam's open book by his knee.
"Just because you've designated it doesn't mean it's everyone's time to study," Ronan retorted, smiling wider with self-awareness of how annoying he could be.
Adam rarely shut his books to talk to Ronan. When he did, he was either too exasperated to focus, or he was about to tell Ronan to get the hell out. He shut his book now, though. He could see he wasn't getting any work done. The book shut on Ronan's fingers, who jerked his hand back just before the heavy text caught them in, pouting when his hand was saved.
"Lynch," Adam said, placing his glasses back on and pushing back his hair. He felt the warmth of the bowl against his pants leg and looked down, noting Ronan handing it off to him with a plain look.
"Here," he said. "I don't like coconut milk."
Taking it from him, Adam could only hold it, confused. This wasn't the first time Ronan had done this. In fact, he did this a lot. He often made amazing things from scratch, some recipes he did just by guessing and creating, and then he wouldn't eat them. Most of the time, nearly all of the time, Adam ate them instead.
Used to this, Adam took another bite of the lentils, accepting his usual position. By his side, Ronan opened his textbook back up and perused a page Adam studied earlier, noted by the highlighting and writing in the margins.
He squinted as his finger ran down the length of the words. Adam nearly drilled his finger, if only because he worried he'd somehow manage to smudge what he wrote. The boy's hands were rougher than his own these days, training in the kitchen all the time to the point he cut and burned and bruised them enough. He touched at the latest band aid wrapped around his thumb, a hello kitty bandaid he wouldn't ask about. Ronan's pulled out from under his, then shoved at his shoulder.
"You have the shittiest handwriting, Parrish," he mused. "How can you even read this gibberish?"
"Shut up." Adam was used to his badgering. It was expected at this point in their friendship, even if it often still annoyed him. When Ronan snickered, flipping a page to try to understand his notes on it, Adam took another bite of the food. It was warm and soft and tasted so good for something so green. "Wow," he murmured, and he licked his lips to savor the flavor. "What's in this?"
"I told you," Ronan answered, and he looked up from the book in time to notice Adam's licking. He halted when Ronan smirked again. "Can you guess-?"
"Am I tasting ginger?" Adam answered with another question, curious with the flavoring in his food. It was a little game they had. Sometimes Ronan would ask what extra flavoring was inside, something that you wouldn't expect to be there (if you weren't a chef). Adam used to be terrible at the game, but he was getting better. His palette was more cultured than it used to be, more cultured than a lot of people's were. "And... cumin?"
Though his gaze fell down again to Adam's textbook, he could see a clear cut grin on Ronan's face. While he didn't nod, he didn't need to. Adam knew at once he was right.
Ronan continued to stay lying on Adam's bed as he did, even when Adam moved to sit more comfortably, sliding back until he hit the pillows and had something to rest against. Ronan lounged on his bed like a house cat, like he belonged.
"Your taste buds are expanding, all thanks to me," Ronan replied, and he flipped another page unnecessarily.
Adam rolled his eyes and tried to pass the bowl back to him, but had it pushed back. His glasses slipped as he did this, like they always did. Before he could push them back up the bridge of his nose, Ronan was already doing it for him. It was something Ronan did, used to it after years of Adam's hands being full and then losing the ability to see when his glasses dipped down. Why don't you just get a new pair? he used to keep asking. These are perfectly good glasses, except for that. I don't see the point in wasting money he would answer. The habit wasn't lost, even after all this time. Just something they did.
Admittedly he enjoyed the light touch as his finger ran up the length of his nose and then back down again. Once, Ronan's finger brushed across his lips afterward and Adam had chills for an hour. Very few people openly touched him platonically like this. Blue and Henry and Ronan; that was about it. Ronan's touches felt more organic, but he couldn't explain why.
"I have to study, Lynch," Adam said, scrunching his nose in poor attempt to rid the little chill from Ronan's bandaged fingertip. Admittedly he liked the look of hard work on Ronan’s hands, matching his from all his work. That reminded him, he needed to buy more hand lotion as he was nearly out.
“Did you get an invitation too?” Ronan asked, and his fingers twitched again at Adam's book. He was still sitting on his homework, but at this point Adam wasn't in the mood to care. He glanced at him quizzically as Ronan dipped his head back to rest it at his knee, using him as a makeshift pillow instead of just moving. Adam couldn't help himself, and had another bite of Ronan's cooking, enjoying it far more than he should.
"To my brother's wedding," Ronan said offhand, and then tilted his head up so their eyes could meet across the small space between them. Looking up at him, Ronan looked displeased about something. His teeth were bit down on one side of his lower lip, thinking through whatever it was he was annoyed about. "I should have gotten naan too," he then said. "It's great with this, but I wasn't thinking."
His gaze held a couple more seconds, then he frowned and looked away again.
"It's good," Adam said, mouth full enough it should be reason to believe him. He took another bite when Ronan shrugged off his words. He sometimes hated Ronan. Ever since he started culinary school he was nothing but a wizard in the kitchen when he wanted to be. But when it came to feeding himself, all he made was instant ramen or mac n cheese or grilled cheese.
Silence befell them as Ronan got bored staring at words he didn't want to understand, bored with making light of Adam's studying. And now Adam was caught up enough in the conversation he couldn't just ignore him and continue studying; not when he brought him dinner.
"And yeah, I got one," Adam said, falling back on what Ronan asked not long before. When he received the invitation from Declan it was a surprise, though less when he learned Blue, too, received one. They all must have. "I'm not going," he said.
Ronan sat straight up at the news, and before Adam lost his chance he pulled his homework out from under him. He placed it at his other side, took another bite of the lentils, and all before Ronan could utter a word.
"Why not?" While Ronan was commonly known to put on a face of sheer disinterest and vexation, often Adam could tell when he was trying not to express something else entirely. It was masked under his curled eyebrows and flat line of a mouth. It was in the way his gaze shifted away frequently, hands searched for something to occupy their attention. Adam fingered the wrinkles at the center of Ronan's brow, until Ronan slapped his hand away. He could tell what he was really feeling was, for some strange unknowable reason, was sadness.
"It's too far and too expensive," Adam shrugged. It was just a wedding. "Plus, I don't even really know Declan."
Ronan's hands started playing with Adam's highlighter, opening and closing the cap on it. "It's Ireland," Ronan said, like it was reason enough to go in debt.
"Yes, I'm aware it's Ireland, Lynch." Adam set the bowl down, and then reached and grabbed his pen from Ronan's hand. The boy pouted like he was a child who had his toy taken away. "But some people have other priorities," Adam then said.
"Such as?" Ronan reached over him for the pen back, but Adam wasn't having it right now and leaned back from him with his hand held out.
"For one," Adam had to bite his lip to suppress laughter, "I can't afford the airfare and the hotel and the food expenses." When Ronan ceased reaching, he glared and then angrily lay back down with his head at Adam's knee. "It's a lot to ask of me."
"You've never been to Ireland," Ronan said, beginning to pick at his hello kitty bandaid.
"Exactly, Lynch," Adam replied. Watching him sabotage the healing of his wound was disturbing to say the least, and he stilled his hand. "I can't afford it. Especially now."
"What, you have school?" At that, Ronan looked up at him and met his gaze. Again a facade fell into place and covered his expression, showing him boisterously amused rather than whatever he was really feeling inside. "It'll be summer."
"School doesn't differentiate what season it is," Adam retorted.
"Actually it does." Ronan's hand rose and a finger came and poked him on the nose. "Normal people don't have summer classes. Nerds do."
While laughing something close to genuine, but still mocking, Ronan leaned into him to continue to antagonize.
"You're the worst, you know that, right? Are you trying to get me to fail my classes?" He sighed. "I'm not going into debt over a wedding of someone I've met barely a dozen times over the years."
Adam continued to push Ronan's face away, turning it so he was staring at the wall.
No longer laughing, Ronan took his bowl from him.
"I'll let you study, then," he said. "Don't want to be a bother."
Adam whined a little when he did, not yet finished with the lentils. As he reached for it across Ronan's frame, his glasses slid back down his nose again. Ronan fixed them for him, again, while still holding the bowl away from his reach. When he moved to stand, Adam all but sat in his lap.
"Oh, come on," Adam said, rejected as he gave up. He shoved at Ronan's shoulder a little in resentment. "It's not like it's your wedding."
He realized all too late how that throwaway comment could somehow sting, and then they both fell into silence. Ronan still sat beside him on the bed, but the playfulness of his posture was gone.
As he shifted about uncomfortably, staring longingly at what was left in the bowl, Ronan sat there quietly with it held tight in his one hand. He used the spoon to stir the lentils around, and Adam's stomach ached.
This was his first meal all day, not because he couldn't afford it, but because he forgot to eat. He was studying all day. Time sort of slipped from him.
He hated when Ronan was upset, and hated it more when it was over trivial things like this. Now he was more annoyed than anything, because Ronan wasn't intentionally being a dick about this, not in the sense Adam felt he was, but it didn't mean he wasn't. So what if Adam went or not? The wedding would still go on, Ronan could still have fun with everyone else. He had Noah these last couple years to entertain him as his roommate. He didn't need Adam around all the time.
"Why do you care if I go or not?" he said.
Ronan shrugged. "It's not fun if isn't all of us," he explained.
That didn't sound like the whole story, but he supposed he wasn't going to get everything. He couldn't handle this right now, he couldn't handle Ronan Lynch in his full bitter state with a glare that could frighten anyone who didn't know him. Adam was still trying to mentally work through the problems in his head from his homework now left unfinished. If Ronan wasn't going to give him back the bowl, he would work out the problem some other way, by eating something else. He stood up off the bed, letting his hands run through his hair to try to tame it. When he left his room for the kitchen, he wasn't too surprised to hear Ronan not far off behind him.
By the looks of things, Blue was out he supposed. He checked his watch, and was shocked to learn it was five. He thought it was earlier than that. Blue was at work now, and his stomach rumbled aware it was well past lunchtime and on the way towards dinner.
"Then I won't go either," he heard Ronan softly say behind him.
Adam turned, stopping before he reached the kitchen. His glasses slipped down his nose.
"Because I'm not going?" He found himself frowning before he could say anything, and squinting because he couldn't see. His first reaction was to get angry, but he knew better than to start another argument with Ronan over his brother's wedding . "Oh no no no no. Don't be unbearable about this."
Adam turned away again, fixing his glasses, but before he fully turned he saw a flicker of pain in Ronan's expression. He turned back.
"I didn't mean it like that," Ronan said, all grumpy and worn. His voice was twisting with acid like Adam had burned him, his eyes staring longingly downward at their fake wood floors. "I'm not not going because of you . I didn't want to go, and now I have a proper excuse."
"Aren't you going to be a groomsman?" Adam asked. "That's what Gansey said."
"He can find somebody else," Ronan said, with a half shrug that didn't come off very believable. He still had the lentil bowl in his hands, stirring it with the spoon.
"He can find another brother?" Adam jested, but Ronan didn't find him funny.
"I'm sure there's some extended relative he can pay to stand there," he growled.
Adam was tired and hopelessly stuck in his homework, and now very aware of his hunger. He folded his arms over his chest while Ronan stood there staring silently at him. He was being so brooding tonight, it was impossible.
Then, Ronan walked across the living room to him and handed off his bowl. He pressed it gently into Adam's chest, who graciously let it pass to him without a word. He turned back to the kitchen to find bread, taking another bite of the lentils before they ran cold.
"Why don't you want to go?" he asked. They exchanged a look across Adam's shoulder as Ronan remained planted where he last stood, immobile. He heaved a heavy sigh, dramatic in its founding. Ever the dramatic, Ronan Lynch was.
"I mean, besides Declan," Adam clarified, knowing what it was Ronan was about to say. "I thought you two were getting along better lately anyway."
"My extended family will annoy me incessantly about my love life, my career," Ronan confessed, picking at his bandaids again like a child. If he were a dog, he would surely be the kind that needed a cone so he didn't pick at his stitches. "They don't think cooking school is worthy of my time."
"Ah. Just tell them the truth." He set the bowl down on the counter as he stretched above the fridge for what he wanted. Behind him, he looked back to see Ronan staring at him with blanket curiosity. "That they're assholes," he added.
"I don't have to if I don't go," Ronan said. He moved closer to him, joining him in the kitchen. His arms swung wide around him, and for a moment he looked ready to knock things down with his big limbs, but he toned down the swinging when he was nearby things to hit.
Adam sighed. His hand found contact with the loaf of bread he hid on the fridge away from Blue. Sometimes he still had bad habits of hiding food he rightfully earned, but it was only now when he knew if he didn't Blue would eat it all before he had a chance to. Ronan watched him take out a slice off the end and dunk it into the lentil bowl. It tasted amazing when he put it to his mouth.
Ronan's gaze turned darkly for a second as he dipped the bread into the lentils a second time. He didn't catch the reason, not that there seemed to be one half the time. Sometimes Adam still felt like he didn't know Ronan at all, and other times he felt like he knew him better than he knew himself.
With a push of his glasses back up the bridge of his nose for Adam, Ronan sharply smiled like a shark or a snake if they could. He ran a bandaged finger under his chin, then shut his mouth for him before he walked away from his side. Adam turned to follow Ronan's movements, and watched him fling himself over the back of the sofa and collapse face first down into the cushions.
Less theatrically, Adam came around to the other side of the couch and sat down next to him. As Ronan bothered to sit upright, he split his bread in half and offered the half uneaten to Ronan. He took it and dunked it in the lentils like Adam did earlier, then took a bite. His feet tucked under him as he ate, his chin resting on a knee.
"Don't you miss your mom though?" Adam asked. "Didn't she move back to Ireland?"
Ronan huffed. His open mouth almost spit food everywhere. "So?" he said. He swallowed. "She visits."
"You should go," Adam reasoned. He knocked shoulders with him in silent demand. "Even if I don't."
Ronan soured. His gaze held angrily at his bread like it had done something wrong, but Adam knew him well enough to know he was really glaring at himself. "Why do you always have to be right?" he hissed.
"It's a gift and a curse," Adam said with a challenging smile. He knew if Ronan committed to avoiding Declan's wedding there was never going to be a chance their family would recover from the insult. "Can you make more of this?" Adam motioned to the bowl. "I really like it."
Ronan looked up at his face then down at the food. The tension in his face eased away, and he shrugged. "Yeah, sure. It's easy."
Adam felt better now that he had food on his stomach, more focused. He lifted off the sofa lighter than he was when he sat down, and he started back to his room with the bowl still in his hands.
"I'm going back to studying now," he said.
Ronan groaned.
"Since you're here," he said at his doorway, "you can help me with my flashcards."
"Ugh. Flash cards?" But Ronan was following Adam into his room anyway.
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-
Not long after Adam finished studying later that night, Blue came home and made all the familiar sounds of her arrival: a large groan, slamming of the front door, something heavy dropping on the ground, cupboards opening and shutting hard, and then finally the sound of the television turning on.
Adam stepped out of his room to see her somehow already in her pajamas, boxer shorts and an oversized sweatshirt from NYU, with her hair in a messy bun that was falling apart after a long day.
He came and sat beside her to rest his eyes, and she touched at his hair when he rested his face at her shoulder.
"How's it going?" she asked sweetly.
He sensed something strange was about to be asked.
"Fine," he said slowly.
"The place smells like a vegetable farm...." Blue noted. Her had stopped at his hair. "Was Lynch here?"
"Does he smell like vegetables?" Adam thought he smelled like his pomegranate body spray that Adam sometimes liked to borrow (but wouldn't admit to).
"No, but I know when the place smells like real food it's because of him," Blue noted. She sounded like she was teasing him about something, though he couldn't tell what. She was always making comments about their friendship. Blue and Ronan got along well enough but they weren't the closest of friends, even after three years of living across the hall from each other. It sometimes upset him, that his two closest friends weren’t as close as he would like them to be.
“He came over and helped me study,” Adam explained. “We made flash cards. You just missed him by fifteen minutes.”
“Your idea of fun is so skewed, sweetie,” Blue said, hugging his head to her shoulder.
Adam snorted. “Whatever. He's more helpful than you,” he replied.
Above him, Blue flashed him a grin, as he pulled his head away from her to lean against the back of the couch. She snorted a laugh as she muted the television. It was one of her knowing grins, but he didn't know what it was she knew.
“That's because he's boring and I'm fun,” she said.
“You're about on even ground,” he argued.
"Ouch."
He settled in on his side of the sofa with a pillow held to his chest, as Blue then started paying attention to the tv and what they were watching. She moved to unmute it, but he caught her before she clicked the button.
"Are you going to the wedding?" he asked.
Blue shrugged. "Undecided," she said, and her hand stilled at the remote. "I wish there was an option to say 'maybe, but I have no money now and I'm hoping I don't get fired by the time that you're getting married'."
"Why would you go?" Even though Ronan dropped the subject it unfortunately was still on Adam's mind, sitting there at the back waiting to be explored more thoroughly. He began to wonder what he would do for that weekend they were there, if they would all mutually decide to extend the trip and explore without him. An adventure in Ireland, without Adam Parrish. He hated that he was envious of something like that, even now after years of working hard not to compare or compete. He sucked in his lower lip with his teeth, struggling to find a reason not to go other than money. Fuck Ronan.
Blue shrugged beside him and brought him back to the present. "It's Ireland, man," she answered.
"Why does everyone keep saying that like it explains away the reason to visit?" Adam's bitterness bled through his tone.
"I mean, I've never gone before," Blue said, defensively, like he was acting this way because of her. He didn't know how to explain that he was arguing with himself. She sat further up on the sofa, nudging his foot with her foot. "Neither have you, unless you've been holding out on me all these years," she added. Then with a smile, she boasted, "Plus there'll be hot people there."
He rolled his eyes at her. "There's hot people in New York," he replied.
"It isn't the same," she said, and she pouted. "You should be getting laid."
Adam laughed, a shock of a thing because in all his years with Blue she never once pestered him about sex like this before.
"I'm not kidding!" she exclaimed, and she slapped at his shoulder. "I'm serious. I don't think you've brought someone home in all the time we've been roommates."
He had to wipe an eye as tears streamed down his face from laughing so hard. "That doesn't mean I don't get out," he said. His voice quivered, weak withholding more laughter.
"You're stressed," Blue noted, sounding concerned as she used the side of her thumb to wipe away a stray tear that went down his cheek. He was still shaking with the bubbled laughs, trying to contain them poorly. She knew him all too well, that this was more laughter from exhaustion than amusement.
"And your solution to that is to 'get laid'?" he said.
"Yes."
The rush of the laughs came harder this time that he had to hold his stomach. Blue was not amused. She put her hands to her hips and frowned at him.
"I promise you, you'll get laid in Ireland if you go," she said. "You're a beautiful man, and I think that's being wasted here, alone, in our apartment."
Adam couldn't stop laughing.
-~-~-~-~-~-~-
(01:23 a) you can buy my ticket to ireland
(1:25 a) who said anything about me buying your fucking ticket
(1:27 a) don't be funny
(1:27 a) k
(1:33 a) what changed your mind
(1:36 a) it's ireland
(1:36 a) plus i really want to see you embarrass yourself in front of declan
(1:38 a) jackass
(1:47 a) why are you awake?
(1:48 a) finished studying and now i can't sleep
(1:50 a) come over and keep me company I can't sleep either
(1:55 a) what's in this for me
(1:57 a) i'll make you crepe suzette again
(1:59 a) ok sold
(2:01 a) you're so easy
(2:01 a) shut up
(2:01 a) is the spare key where it usually is?
(2:02 a) yee. one of these days i need to get you your own at this point
(2:02 a) probably would look less suspicious
(2:02 a) k I'm here