omg, so many of those sentence starters are great prompts for TRC. can't remember if you are pro or anti ronsey but I kinda want to see "I accidentally called you my boyfriend today" for those two. also now I wanna write “You’ve been pouting ever since I went out on that date, what’s up?” for Henry talking to Blue.
Aren’t they just? I’ve been looking the whole list over for days and trying to decide which one is my favorite, and I can’t pick. They’re all just so good!While I’m not really a fan of straight up romantic/shippy Ronsey, I am very much pro quasi-romantic codependent “if-I-didn’t-think-of-you-as-a-brother-I’d-totes-wanna-smash” platonic Ronsey, so I think I can deliver!
Gansey is an anxious animal even on his best day, but the jittery twitchiness of him this afternoon is a whole new level entirely. Ronan is doing his best to ignore the the creak of the floorboards under his bouncing leg, the rhythmic clicking of his pen, the frantic energy radiating off him in waves. He’s nearly plucked his mint plant clean and if he rubs his lip any more he’ll start rubbing his teeth.
If he strains his ears, Ronan can tell that Gansey’s been listening to the Beatles, and to “Help!” specifically, on a loop for almost an hour.
Ronan grew up with brothers and is no stranger to noisy housemates, and he doesn’t even particularly mind the amount of noise Gansey is making, but as he watches the tense line of Gansey’s shoulders from the couch he feels a prickle of nerves himself. He sets his book aside and gets up, but he sheer volume of Paul McCartney’s voice leaking out of Gansey’s headphones deafens him to the creak of the leather and activity in the kitchen.
The electric kettle glows blue as it starts to heat up while Ronan rummages through the cabinets for Gansey’s favorite mug. He makes an unnecessary amount of noise for the sheer pleasure of it because Gansey can’t hear him and Noah’s off somewhere with Blue or teaching a class and isn’t here to complain. Gansey startles when Ronan puts a mug of mint tea down in front of him with less care than he should. He jerks his laptop out of the way unnecessarily and pulls his headphones down. “What the hell, Ronan?”Ronan stares at him, one eyebrow raised, and waits. Gansey glares back, annoyed, for about as long as he usually does before he looks away and pinches the bridge of his nose. Pleased with his victory, Ronan says, “Spill.”“What? No, you didn’t, actually, thank god.”“No, dipshit. You.” Gansey frowns as he sets his laptop back down. Ronan amends, “What’s eating you?”“Nothing’s eating me.” It sounds wrong coming out of his mouth, a borrowed phrase from another language. “I’m not being eaten by anything.”“Gansey.”Gansey huffs and leans back, crossing his arms over the big, ugly Polo logo on his shirt. He fills it out nicely and his biceps stretch the sleeves just so, and in an entirely objective way he wasn’t capable of several years ago, Ronan appreciates Gansey’s attractiveness momentarily before kicking his chair.“I did something stupid this morning,” Gansey says. That he allows the insult of the kick to go uncommented on piques Ronan’s interest beyond settling Gansey’s anxiety to its usual level. Ronan half sits on the edge of the desk and waits for Gansey to elaborate further. “When I was getting breakfast, the girl behind the counter asked if I was eating everything myself and I told her I was sharing it with my boyfriend.”This is so anticlimactic it’s abruptly very boring and deeply disappointing in how mundane it is. “So?”“I was talking about you,” Gansey says, in a rush like he can’t contain the words now that he’s started letting them out. Ronan blinks. “So?”“I accidentally called you my boyfriend today.” He says it like he’s speaking to a particularly obstinate child. Ronan drops his head back against the support beam beside the desk. “It’s not like she knows you meant me. You go there all the time, usually with at least a guy. It’s fine.”“I don’t think of you that way,” Gansey says. “Not that I wouldn’t, if I were so inclined.”Ronan jabs a finger at him. “We’re not doing this again.” Gansey expression is earnest and offended. “What? I would!”“That’s gay, Gansey. That’s really gay.” Gansey just looks at him, his expression split between are you kidding me? and why wouldn’t you date me? “It’s gayer than whatever shit it is you get up to with Cheng or Noah.”“I’d argue against Noah, Blue’s usually involved in some way.”“That’s disgusting,” Ronan says. “This is really why you’re being tense and weird today? You could be making diamonds right now, Gansey. It was a slip, it doesn’t mean anything. Relax.”“It’s not that I think it means anything,” Gansey retorts, a little hotly. “I just–I love that place, and now I’m afraid to go there because she’s going to ask about my boyfriend.”Ronan reaches out and ruffles Gansey’s hair the way he would Matthew’s. “Fucking loser. Just make shit up, you’ve got two other ones to base your answers on.”
