#adamronan

[punkrockradio]

when ronans with bryde // when adam visits from harvard

[kaosera25]

[okayprairie]

[sorrowingsoldier]

“When Adam kissed him, it was every mile per hour Ronan had ever gone over the speed limit. It was every window-down, goose-bumps-on-skin, teeth-chattering-cold night drive. It was Adam’s ribs under Ronan’s hands and Adam’s mouth on his mouth, again and again and again. It was stubble on his lips and Ronan having to stop, to get his breath, to restart his heart. They were both hungry animals, but Adam had been starving for far longer.” 

The Raven King, Maggie Stiefvater

[sorrowingsoldier]

Rating: Teen 


Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish

Additional Tags: 5+1, Fluff

Summary:

Everybody knows that Ronan loves Adam. Ronan knows he loves Adam, and he’s pretty sure that Adam knows that he’s loved, too.  But they’ve never said the words. They have other words, sure, just not that one, specific, stupidly important, word. 

Instead of ‘I love you’, they say:

“Call me when you get home.”

“Eat, you dumbass.”

“I changed your oil.”

“I dreamt of you last night.”

“Tamquam,” “alter idem.”

Still, the ‘L’ word. The string of three words that mean so much and nothing to them at the same time, hasn’t been said. They don’t need to say it, either. But Ronan, ever stubborn and determined, needs to say it. 

or: 5 Times Ronan Said 'I love you' Without Adam Hearing + The One Time Adam Said It

Word Count: 10k

[AO3 Link]

[sorrowingsoldier]

Rating: Teen 


Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish

Additional Tags: NASCAR Driver!Ronan

Summary:

After every race Adam found Ronan at his room, whether it was walking back in silence from dinner or with a knock on the door. And every night, no matter what, Ronan would ask him on question. One secret, and only ask for one in return. In the dark unfamiliar of the hotel room it was easy brandishing his soul to Ronan, quietly speaking the thoughts that both haunted and motivated him into the space around them. It felt transactional, at first, but then it became a tradition. A ritual.

And that ritual hasn’t been broken. Every night after a race, win or lose, Ronan would settle into the floor beside Adam’s bed and speak a couple sentences before they slept.

(or: the one where Ronan’s a NASCAR driver, Adam’s his pit crew chief, and the entire gang wants them to get together)

Word Count: 18k

[AO3 Link]

[sorrowingsoldier]

here, have another piece of my NASCAR Driver!Ronan and Car Chief!Adam AU titled Thinking of Someone For Whom He Still Burns

They eat in a comfortable silence. Gansey doesn’t mind the quiet with Adam. Their conversations often pause for moments of introspection, both a little too in their heads for similar company. But it works, they’ve been friends since college. Through disagreements, mutual and otherwise, and the contention that Gansey’s father offering Adam a job caused. 

(It wasn’t a handout, but Adam in college couldn’t tell the difference between handouts, help, care, and a job offer because Adam is simply the best mechanic the Ganseys know.) 

Adam now, years outside of the brick and ivied walls of Harvard, still looks at kindness like it might bite him but it doesn’t lead to fights anymore. Just pressed lips, a deep breath, and acceptance.

Adam deserves all the love humanity can offer, but the love Adam was raised with was conditional and transactional. Unlearning that is something Gansey will never understand, but he’ll try his damn best to.

They finish eating with a crumple of wax paper, each of them wiping the grease onto their pants despite there being napkins within reach. Gansey picks up his mostly full coffee and pushes himself off the cement, offering a hand to Adam to do the same. Adam takes it without so much as a blink of uncertainty.

“So,” Gansey starts, unsure how to proceed. He’s not normally tongue tied, but he and Adam also don’t talk about romantic feelings involving a mutual friend. The last time that happened Gansey started dating Adam’s ex. He moves around the car, acting as if he’s very interested in the Skittles sponsorship decal, “Ronan.”

“What about him?”

He looks up at Adam, coffee warm between his hands, “You know it wouldn’t change things, right?” He hopes Adam uses his Harvard degree to read between the lines, “Between us. And if it did, it would be for the better.”

Adam presses his lips into a thin line, Gansey cringes, like waiting for the shock of thunder after lightning. He watches as Adam visibly calms himself, slowly breathing out, unclenching his hands, “Is this a blessing?”

Gansey lets himself relax, no thunder, “Not a blessing, no.” He takes a sip of his coffee, rolling it over his tongue as he considers, “But a reassurance.”

It’s Adam’s turn to drink his coffee as an attempt to buy himself a moment to think, “You know, Blue reassured me yesterday, too.”

“We just want you to be happy.” Gansey offers him a smile, “Noah too.”

Adam’s eyebrows raise, a smile cracking on his lips, “Noah knows?”

“Noah knows everything,” Gansey laughs, “he’s like an omnipresent being.”

They fall into another bout of silence. Gansey watching Adam, the way he visibly works through his thoughts by the twitch of his eyebrows and the press of lips. He gives him the time to consider everything, the moment of silence to think through everything. This isn’t some small thing. This is a year in and out longing waiting to be acted upon. This is a friendship that held a deep platonic love moving into the realm of romantic love. A change of the dynamic between two people, between a friend group.

“Why now?” Adam asks, frowning slightly, fingers holding on to the cup like it’s a shield, “After all these years what’s it about now that warranted these reassurances?”

“The cheap answer is that we were tired of watching you two dance around each other.” Gansey offers, shrugging a shoulder.

“And the expensive answer?”

Gansey takes in a breath, looking around the empty garage and back to Adam, “We could tell that you and Ronan were ready for each other.”

Adam nods once, another silence falls between them.

[sorrowingsoldier]

here, have a piece of my NASCAR Driver!Ronan and Car Chief!Adam AU titled Thinking of Someone For Whom He Still Burns

“If I don’t feed you, who will?” 

They settle into a comfortable silence. Adam presses play on the remote, whatever show he’s got on resuming quietly with subtitles. Ronan leans back in the chair, balancing himself on the back two legs, trying not to stare at Adam as he eats, letting his mind wander to the previous race. He can feel the aches and pains in his bones, the need for sleep weighing heavy on his shoulders. But he wouldn’t give this up for the world, these quiet moments with Adam where they aren’t NASCAR driver and car chief. Where their conversations aren’t just bickering and playful jabs in front of friends and coworkers. Instead, they’re just Ronan Lynch and Adam Parrish, men of similar age who don’t know how to put into words what they could be in the sunshine and only know how to be what they are in the night. 

 Adam finishes eating with a crumble of the paper bag, pushing himself off the bed to wash his hands in the bathroom. Ronan listens to the faucet run, the squeak of the towel rack, and the click of the door shutting when Adam comes back in. Something flutters in Ronan’s belly when Adam looks at him. His blue eyes seemingly all-knowing but face otherwise schooled to not reveal anything. Ronan wishes desperately to know what Adam’s thinking, to see the world out of his eyes, to understand every thread of conscious and automatic thought that flashes in his mind. 

“Staying the night?” Adam asks, crossing the room to fiddle with the thermostat. 

Their game continues, “Just a couple hours.” Ronan answers, watching as Adam turns the TV off and sets the remote on the bedside table. He continues watching, the care to keep up an image falling away as the night turns to early morning. As the minutes tick closer to sunrise than sunset. Adam settles under the thick hotel blankets, propping himself up on one elbow, a hand on the lamp switch. 

Ronan takes his cue, setting the front legs of the chair back on the ground. He makes a show of stretching, relishing in the way it burns his tight muscles, before settling himself on the floor beside the bed. The light cuts off, only the sound of Adam readjusting himself and the central heating kicking on. Ronan cushions his head with his hands and crosses his ankles, the jeans he wears aren’t the most comfortable to sleep in, but he doesn’t mind. Not for these moments. 

“If you weren’t a driver, what would you be?” Adam’s voice is quiet in the dark room, like speaking any louder would break the magic. And maybe it would. Maybe the barn mouse that lives in Ronan’s soul would grow skittish, overtaking the confident and cocky façade. 

They wind down nights like these sharing a secret. Just one, but after years of this routine with 36 races a season, the secrets they’ve shared could take up all the pages in a thick book. They could end a career, or if not a career at least an outward personality.

“I’d like a farm.” Something in Ronan craves a quiet life, longs for something stable and settled that’s his own. Seasons of racing made the taste of adrenaline and fame grow stale. At first it was exciting, his illegal hobby becoming a career. But now, he’s tired and wants more. The car he drives isn’t his, the brands that are printed on his chest aren’t guaranteed, and every race he has to do better. Be better. Go faster. The nomad life of going where the races are, missing moments with his little brother, missing moments with <em>himself</em>, isn’t one that’s sustainable. “What about you?”

“I don’t know. This is what I’m good at.”

If Ronan’s eyes were open, he’d roll them, “The question wasn’t ‘what’re you good at’, dumbass, it’s what would you be. In your wildest dreams, what would you be?”  

Beats of time pass, “A traveler, I’d like to see the world.” 

Ronan almost promises to show Adam the world, but he holds his tongue. Not tonight. 

They fall into another comfortable silence, secret sharing over. Ronan sighs, allowing his spine to settle down into the carpet, asking his shoulders to relax away from his ears. In the morning he’ll tell his trainer the soreness is from the race, and it won’t be a lie, but it’s also because he’s pushing thirty and floors don’t agree with his body like they used to.

“You can sleep on the bed, you know.”

This is outside of their usual game. The bed’s never been offered, and Ronan’s never asked, content with the proximity and never wanting more than Adam’s willing to give. He licks his lips, “You just want to use me as a personal heater, don’t you?” The weight of the offer is heavy on Ronan’s chest, and he doesn’t know what to do with it. To say no, he’s fine, would be a lie. To say yes, and lay next to Adam, would be entering new territory that thrills and terrifies him.

Adam snorts, “Caught me.”