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Adam yawns as he makes his way into the kitchen, following the smell of freshly brewed coffee.
Ronan must have gotten up not too long before him, the warmth of his body still lingering to his side of the bed.
When he enters the room Ronan is standing in front of the kitchen counter, back turned towards him as he pours the brown liquid Adam's body craves so much right now into mugs.
He's probably using the stupid expensive ones Gansey gifted them. The ones Ronan pretends to hate but secretly likes because they are from Gansey. The ones Adam actually hates because no mug should cost that much money. It leaves a weird aftertaste in Adam's mouth.
Adam doesn't move from his spot in the door frame, smiling to himself as he watches his boyfriend dressed in nothing but black boxers make coffee because he knows how much Adam relies on it to function in the morning.
Adam's eyes trace Ronan's back, noticing the marks his nails must have left when he had taken Adam apart last night just to put him back together again.
He doesn't know about his own back but Ronan had definitely left marks on his hips and thighs. Adam had run along them with the tips of his fingers when he had seen them after waking up.
“Stop being creepy, Parrish,” Ronan says, voice still rough from sleep.
Adam doesn't reply, just walks towards him on socked feet and places a soft kiss on Ronan’s neck. Ronan shivers visibly. Adam loved that he has that effect on him.
“Thanks for making coffee.”
“Who said I'm sharing,” Ronan asks and turns arounds, his hands wandering automatically to Adam's waist.
Adam just stares at him with unblinking eyes because he knows for a fact Ronan would have brought him coffee to bed if Adam hadn't come to the kitchen. He'd probably have poured it right into Adam's mouth as well.
Ronan hands him one of the mugs and Adam gladly takes it, immediately taking a sip and smacking his lips in satisfaction.
“It's good,” he says because it's exactly like Adam likes it. Strong, not at all watered down like the sad excuse of coffee Adam had been drinking for many years. The temperature is just right which means that if Adam hadn't spent a couple of minutes admiring Ronan's body he would most likely have burned his mouth.
“No shit,” Ronan says, “I made it.”
“That means nothing, Lynch,” Adam says, “You fuck up things all the time, you could fuck up coffee.”
“If I wanted to.”
Adam suppresses a laugh.
“Why would you want to fuck up coffee,” he asks, walking back towards the bedroom.
Ronan follows closely behind him but doesn't bring his own coffee which means he got up to make it for Adam specifically.
“Just to piss you off,” Ronan says, “Because I can.”
Adam shakes his head before he climbs back into bed, back leaning against the headboard and both of his hands securely wrapped around the mug.
“You're ridiculous,” he mutters into his coffee as Ronan climbs into bed with him. He lies down next to him, tattooed arm thrown over Adam's thighs.
Ronan doesn't say anything and when Adam looks down at him he sees that his eyes are closed. He looks relaxed.
Adam can't imagine he looks relaxed but he certainly feels it. Which is almost funny, he thinks.
Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined that lazying around in bed with Ronan Lynch of all people would be one of his favourite activities. Something to look forward to. Something he didn't feel bad about doing.
“Are you thinking gross shit,” Ronan asks, voice muffled by the way his face is pressed into Adam's hip.
“Like what?”
“Like how nice this is or whatever.”
“You can say you think this is nice, Lynch,” Adam says, “I was just thinking that you're an asshole.”
“Sure you were.”
Adam silently sips his coffee, listening to Ronan's breathing evening out.
“Ronan,” Adam asks because he's not entirely sure he's awake. Ronan doesn't reply but Adam still adds, “Thanks for the coffee.”
Ronan just squeezes his thigh in response.