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ronan lynch ([personal profile] inktivism) wrote 2021-02-13 10:09 pm (UTC)

[ He leans into Adam like every flower rediscovering spring sun — hesitantly at first, learning to trust the motions. Weary, but steadfast. Strong.

I love you in cuts and bruises. In the cantankerous, coarse texture of Adam's dried lips. Drink more water, but then, Sleep and Eat and Don't topple over exhausted, and the rest of all that finery.

Adam has a lifetime of feel-good advice to implement. Ronan isn't changing his life today. He's moving instead — darting up, to seize Adam's hand by the wrist, because they've had too much softness for the past two minutes, and it's time for Ronan to remind his boyfriend why he's always destined for the bad end of a particularly terrible romantic deal. Getting dragged along for the ride comes with the Lynch territory.

( So, maybe he wants to touch his boyfriend a little longer, while they cruise between kitchen and corridor and the back door. Sue him.) ]


You realize I could just make you do it and abandon you. Every man for himself.

[ There are more sheds spread across the Barns landscape than Ronan cares to name or count. Better hope that hose made it into one of the first dozen.

Then, as if he only now remembers, softening with a parting glance: ]


Cover your ear. The one you've got.

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