Chapter Text
Sunday Morning
When Ronan left Mass, Adam was waiting for him in the car park. He was leaning against the BMW, his hands in his pockets. The sun reflected off the BMW behind him. Ronan wondered if it would be hot on Adam’s back if Ronan pushed him against the car. He wondered if it would warm Adam’s palms as he held tightly onto the bonnet. Ronan had just been on his knees in worship, but he was willing to give it another go.
Adam lifted a hand in greeting, and Matthew bounded towards him, oblivious to the cars trying to leave the car park. Ronan followed Matthew because it was his car and his friend leaning against it. Declan followed Ronan because he wanted to ruin Ronan’s Sunday.
“Adam! Guess what! I’m second Captain of the Lacrosse team,” Matthew said, his curls bouncing jovially as he nodded his head.
“Second Captain?” Adam asked, nodding a hello at Ronan. His hair was getting longer, dusting the top of his fair eyebrows.
“If the Captain dies, Matthew gets promoted,” Ronan explained.
Matthew laughed, and punched Ronan’s arm amicably, “No, stupid. If the Captain gets sick or hurt, I get to lead the team. He doesn’t have to die.”
“He does if you want to be Captain permanently,” Ronan said.
“Ronan,” Declan scolded wearily.
“Fuck off,” Ronan snapped. Declan had been royally pissing Ronan off all morning. First he wore that fucking stupid tie. Then his leg was bouncing all through prayers, and then he was coughing loudly. Now he was ruining the light feeling in Ronan’s chest at the sight of Adam.
“Was it you?” Adam interjected, before Declan could insult Ronan and start a fight. He clarified, “The donation?”
St. Agnes was undergoing construction, starting tomorrow. An anonymous donation had been made to fund the project, and Adam was going to be homeless by 7am tomorrow. Despite utilising anonymous donations in the past, Ronan hadn’t donated this one. In fact, he’d only just learnt of the refurbishments during Mass announcements.
“Not me,” Ronan said.
“It was me,” Declan said. He pulled out his car keys, “Get in the car, Matthew, we’re going.”
“I want to talk to Adam,” Matthew whined.
“It was you?” Ronan demanded. Declan got Adam kicked out of his apartment. He really was asking to be punched today.
Declan looked at Adam coolly, “Excuse me if I didn’t ask the squatter before I helped the church, Parrish.”
“Adam,” Ronan corrected ferociously.
Adam’s brow furrowed at being the subject of a fight between the eldest Lynch brothers.
Ronan hated Declan saying Parrish. He didn’t say Parrish like Ronan said Parrish. He said it as a reminder to Adam that his surname was nothing. He said it like it was a dirty thing in his mouth. It was a verbal reminder that Adam wasn’t a Lynch or a Gansey. He was nothing. He was a Parrish.
Ronan, on the other hand, said Parrish like a prayer.
Declan set his jaw, but didn’t correct himself. Adam looked at Declan with disinterest, like he was waiting for the conversation to be over already.
“I’m sure he’ll find somewhere to live,” Declan said to Ronan, excluding Adam from the conversation completely, “Perhaps the trailer park he crawled out of will take him back?”
Adam sucked in a breath, Matthew’s mouth popped open audibly. Ronan clenched his fists. He wanted to punch Declan so much, but he could see the challenge on his brother’s face. This was his plan. He was daring Ronan to punch him, right here in the church car park in front of their little brother.
Ronan smirked aggressively, and pulled out his car keys. He turned to Adam, “Don’t mind him, he just got dumped.”
Adam pulled open the passenger door, “Ashley dumped him?”
“She didn’t-”
Ronan cut Declan off, “She realised he was just another womanising, dickhead, piece of shit.”
Ronan slammed the car door and watched Declan glare at him through the windscreen. Adam had an eyebrow raised, he looked vaguely impressed by Ronan’s insults. Declan tried to speak, but Ronan revved the engine drowning him out. He set his mouth in a frustrated line, and said something to Matthew that was drowned out by the growling engine. Adam snorted. Matthew pointed at the BMW.
Ronan stopped revving. He rolled Adam’s window down and leaned over his seat to call, “Matthew, I’ll drop you off at Aglionby on the way.”
“Bye, Declan,” Matthew waved and climbed into the backseat of the BMW.
When Matthew was safely belted in, Ronan released the handbrake and edged the BMW forward. Declan stared him down, but they both knew Ronan would win this game of chicken. He had no qualms with running his brother over.
The BMW crept forward. The bumper was inches from Declan’s leg when he finally stalked off. Triumphant, Ronan jabbed at the stereo and music burst into life, instantly deafening him and restarting his heart.
Adam turned the music down to ask, “Did she really dump him?”
“Yeah,” Matthew said, “he was pretty upset.”
“Good,” Ronan said, driving out of the car park.
“Ronan,” Matthew scolded, but fondly. He leaned forward to hold onto Adam’s seat, “Where are you gonna live if St. Agnes is under construction?”
“I don’t know,” Adam said. His hands busied themselves fiddling with his seatbelt.
Ronan didn’t want to bring up the obvious answer, because he didn’t want to fight. Monmouth Manufacturing was the most obvious answer, and it was probably the most suitable place. Where else could Adam stay for free, that was easily accessible to Ronan? Where else could Ronan see Adam sleepily making breakfast in the morning, or hunched over his books in the evening?
Really, it was mutually beneficial. Ronan got to see Adam, and Adam got a free place to live.
But he didn’t offer, because he knew Adam wouldn’t see it that way.
“Where are you going to go to Mass?” Adam asked.
“St. Maria Goretti Church in Woodville,” Matthew said. He thought for a moment, “Maybe you can live there?”
Adam smiled, and Ronan flicked his gaze to the rearview mirror to see Matthew’s grin. While Adam and Matthew drifted into a conversation about the Lacrosse team, Ronan allowed himself to imagine Adam staying at Monmouth with them. It would be a welcome change to see Adam in his pants in the morning, instead of Gansey.
Ronan dropped Matthew off at Aglionby.
“Bye shithead,” he shouted through the open window.
Matthew laughed, and went into his dorm building. When he was out of sight, Ronan didn’t make any attempt to drive off. The BMW’s engine shuddered beneath them, eager to get going.
Adam didn’t say anything at their lack of motion. He just fiddled with his seatbelt, and avoided Ronan’s look. He knew what Ronan was going to say. Ronan twisted in his seat to see him better, to admire the way the sun fell through the window onto his skin.
“You can stay at Monmouth,” Ronan said.
“Ronan...” Adam trailed off, unable to come up with a good argument. He’d had all morning to think of a reasonable argument to convince them both, but he knew one didn’t exist. Monmouth was the only choice. It was the smartest choice.
“You know Gansey’s going to offer. I thought it’d be less Gansey if I offered,” Ronan said.
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
Adam didn’t answer, because he didn’t have an answer. Ronan knew it, Adam knew it, but he didn’t budge. Ronan readied the BMW to leave, but didn’t release the handbrake. He watched a handful of students leave Matthew’s building and pile into a Porsche.
“The offer’s there if you decide to stop being such a dick,” Ronan released the handbrake and sped off, startling the students.
“I’m not a dick,” Adam said, but he wasn’t upset. He’d expected the offer, no doubt. Anyone who knew Ronan, Gansey, and Adam would have expected the offer.
“Where else are you going to stay?” Ronan demanded, “Are you going to live on the street, Parrish? Will that help your pride?”
Ronan had stupidly gotten his hopes up. He’d let himself imagine sharing a house with Adam, and now he was ridiculously disappointed.
“I’ll figure it out, can you just drop it?” Adam asked, with exasperation. He lolled his head back against his head-rest and sighed.
“Fucking fine,” Ronan said.
He pushed the car over the speed limit as they raced down the streets to 300 Fox Way. Adam didn’t protest at the speed as he was pushed back against his chair. He reached for the stereo at the same time Ronan did. Their hands bumped together clumsily, and Ronan snatched his hand away and set it firmly on the steering wheel. Adam turned the music up, drowning out Ronan’s thoughts about Adam’s hands on his skin.
The Pig was already parked up by the time they reached 300 Fox Way. Gansey was on the doorstep, and he waved at them when they pulled up behind his car.
“Don’t mention St. Agnes,” Adam said when the music stopped.
Ronan got out the car, making sure to slam the door extra hard. Adam climbed out, his face set in annoyance at Ronan’s mood. Ronan glared at the back of his head and locked his car. The two of them joined Gansey on the doorstep, and he looked between them cautiously.
“Everything okay?” he asked, even though he knew everything was not okay.
Ronan knocked violently and aggressively on the door to 300 Fox Way. Blue yanked it open and he narrowed his eyes at her. She was wearing a familiar hoodie over patterned tights. She met Ronan’s glare bravely.
“Is that my fucking hoodie?” he demanded.
Blue looked down like she’d forgotten what she was wearing, “Is it?”
“Don’t lie to me Sargent, you stole my fucking hoodie!”
She looked at him with a challenge on her face, “Prove it.”
One corner of Ronan’s mouth tilted up against his will. He was weirdly proud of her for stealing from him. He hadn’t even noticed its absence, she must have done it last time she was at Monmouth. He only recognised the black hoodie as his own because of the burnt hole on the sleeve, from a particularly wild dream.
He pushed past her into the house, immediately engulfed in the chaotic volume of 300 Fox Way. Women were laughing somewhere in the house, a radio was blaring an awful song, there were children shouting and running everywhere.
“Is that really Ronan’s?” Gansey asked, following Blue and Ronan into the living room. Everyone within a mile could hear the jealousy dripping from his words.
Blue smiled placidly but didn’t answer the question. The four of them sat on the couches in the living room, and Gansey pulled out his Glendower notebook. It was time for their weekly Glendower catch up, and Blue had offered to host this one. Ronan hadn’t been in favour of that idea because he felt too watched within these walls. There were too many psychics, too many women, too many people in general.
As though reading Ronan’s thoughts – which he hadn’t ruled out – a woman Ronan had never seen before poked her head into the living room. Blue looked at her expectantly, but the woman just looked at Adam.
Adam looked flustered under her look. His Henrietta manners overruled his discomfort, “Can I help you, ma’am?”
“Adam, I’m sorry to hear about St. Agnes. If you need a place to stay, I’m sure there’s a spare room here somewhere.”
“What’s this about St. Agnes?” Gansey asked, his ears pricking up like a dog at the mere thought of Adam having trouble.
Adam cringed, and Blue took this as her cue to interject. She stood up and shooed the woman out.
“Thanks, Jimi, but I’ll invite my friends to stay if I want them to,” Blue said, forcibly shutting the door on Jimi.
“It never hurts to be kind, Blue,” Jimi’s voice dwindled as she was pushed into the hallway.
“I’m always kind,” Blue said, unkindly.
“What’s this about St. Agnes?” Gansey asked, unwilling to drop the subject until he knew.
Adam looked to Ronan for help, but Ronan didn’t offer any. He was still sore over his dashed hopes in the car ride here. He focused on pulling at the leather bracelets at his wrist. Adam frowned at him and then turned to Gansey.
“The church is being refurbished, I have to move out,” Adam said.
“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because...”
“Because he doesn’t want to stay at Monmouth,” Ronan said.
“Thanks, Ronan,” Adam snapped.
Gansey looked hurt for a second before he composed himself. He pretended to be engrossed in a passage of his own writing in his journal. Blue pulled on the hoodie strings, unwilling to get into the argument that was brewing.
Evidently, Gansey couldn’t let the subject drop.
“What is so bad about Monmouth, Adam? Is it that horrible to imagine living there? With us?” Gansey asked.
Adam looked guilty as he let out a long sigh, “You know it’s not that.”
“Then what?”
“I just want to…” Adam struggled to explain. He waved a hand to encompass the end of his sentence, “forge my own way.”
Gansey opened his mouth, and Ronan could already hear the condescending response. You think I haven’t forged my own way?
But it never came, Gansey closed his mouth again. Ronan knew it was Blue that had trained that behaviour out of him. Sure, he was still condescending, but only about half the time now.
Silence descended in the wake of Adam’s words. Ronan was firmly on Gansey’s side, but also unwilling to fall out with Adam. Blue was abstaining from this conversation completely. Adam had said his piece, and now it was up to Gansey to say something to either end the argument – win or lose – or change the subject.
Gansey flicked the page in his journal, and pressed his thumb to his lower lip. He wasn’t reading, he was worrying over this new problem Adam had presented.
“A week,” he said finally.
“A week?” Adam asked.
“Just stay with us for a week. You can have Noah’s room-” At the look on Adam’s face, Gansey quickly added, “Or the couch. Until you find a new place.”
Adam mulled this offer over. He wanted this argument over like everyone else did, but he wasn’t willing to compromise his principles for it.
“How much rent?” Adam asked.
It was clear to everyone that Gansey had never imagined Adam paying rent to live in Monmouth. It was also clear to everyone that if he said as much, Adam would fall out with him completely.
“No rent,” Ronan said. Before Adam could complain, he said, “You can be our maid. I’ll even dream you the outfit.”
Adam laughed, and the tension in the room evaporated. Blue and Gansey laughed too, though more out of relief than anything else. It was unclear whether Adam would stay in Monmouth, but the offer was on the table and that was all that mattered right now.
Glad the argument was over, Blue said, “Are we going to Cabeswater today?”