47. "no one needs to know." + ronan/adam? or your favourite tmr ship?
boy-o-freaking-boy this is old and I am so sorry
Adam Parrish was roused from his almost-sleep by the sound of the door being opened. He lay in the half dark of his room above St Agnes his good ear turned to the sound and his breath held as the floor of the landing creaked and the door replied as it was closed again. The rustle of a jacket, a low grunt and the thud of boots prompted the release of all the tension he had been holding. He could get up, he thought. Perhaps he should get up but he was so comfy. His body was relishing in this early night (all nights considered, 2am was not bad). So he simply lay there happy in his drowsy calm as he listened to his tap being run, water splashing into a cup and being drained in a few quick greedy gulps. The quiet clatter of the glass in the sink and more muffled footsteps. There was a breath of quiet in which Adam imagined his body under perusal. The lines of his covered form in the stark light from his curtain-less window, the way he was half curled half sprawled on his minuscule bed. The moment felt slightly electric and Adam was careful not to move under his imaged scrutiny (was it really imagined).
The moment passed, there was more shuffling of clothes and with a heavy but curiously quite sigh Ronan Lynch half fell half crept into the space behind Adam. In a few small movements the other boy had settled. The cover falling still once more, this time covering two bodies.
Ronan’s breath evened out as he allowed himself to relax against the mattress. Adam felt rather than heard the second sigh and Ronan, in consideration of Adam’s perceived sleep, let himself creep just a fraction closer to the other boy’s back. Adam felt the distance between them like the static on an old television screen. It was making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, taunting them both. Without any pomp or ceremony he uncurled his left hand side and pressed back into the warmth of Ronan’s chest. This new sensation of skin on skin had both boys breath hitching. Adam hadn’t realised Ronan had stripped to just his boxers but he wasn’t complaining. Carefully, oh so carefully, that if Adam didn’t know better he would say it was un-Ronan-ishly so, an arm was snaked over his waist and around his body. Adam smiled a small smile, private only because of the gloom and their position, and tipped his head back slightly feeling Ronan’s noes bump gently into the crown of his head.“Parrish”, gods, Adam thought, had his voice always been able to be so soft “Lynch” he murmured in quiet reply. “Adam.” Ronan said it like he meant secret or life or god. Or love, Adam let himself think for a hazy hesitant breath before settling further back into Ronan’s solidity. That was a train of thought for another time. As he let sleep wash over him again he breathed a soft “Hello” into the night air that held them, unaware if there had been any reply as the comforts of sleep and this strange new security he had found pulled him under.
