inktivism: (just saying this)
ronan lynch ([personal profile] inktivism) wrote 2021-02-12 02:30 am (UTC)

[ Next time. Because there will be one, and adulthood welcomed Ronan Lynch with the punch of death, decay and a ruthlessly perverse inheritance — along with the rare, but choice reminder that sharing is caring, and the universe is just making sure the cartoon-comedy bad luck makes the rounds.

They'll be here again, in a few months' time, if they're fortunate. Weeks, if not. Over a bad stretch, like the sunset days of November — days.

There's a moment, Adam reaching, when he wants to flinch — to deny his boyfriend their candid little underground reunion, leg flinching, for nothing but the private pleasure of seeing someone else suffer beside him. He fights his inner son of a bitch. In a moment of superheroic climax, wins. And then he's tangling their feet at the angle, delicately tugging Adam in, warmth of his limb spearing an indelible, prickling print on Ronan's calf. ]


We'll get'em with the hose.

[ Water, chaps, a symphony of angered birds. It would be theatrical, if Ronan weren't convinced someone might lose an eye for it. ]

And you'll God damned cuddle on the couch after. [ As if Adam were a long-suffering saint, once more exposed to the torture of his boyfriend's misplaced PG affections. ] And use that valedictorian brain to think up some... I don't know. Wards or blood spells or OUT WITH THE HEATHENS signs, or something.

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