[ The trouble (inevitable) with owning so much land is that now and then, Ronan's condemned to walk it — and here's Adam, trailing after him, a grudging but benevolent acolyte, dragging the hose along like an impudent instrument to their crime.
They face off ravens at every turn, smudges and battalions of them, receding before the first nips of water as if they're the devil himself, expelled. Ronan wants to say, You assholes had it coming. Knows they get it, even without the pronouncement.
And then there's Adam, with him, faithful knight in shining armor, waving the hose around like Excalibur, in glory. Ronan concedes him the honor of exterminating their winged threat, neither feather nor beak of them left by the time he's done.
Then, carefully, one arm fastened around his boyfriend's shoulders: ]
[He melts into the touch, the weight of Ronan's arm around his shoulders. The hose, turned off now that the last raven has left their vicinity, hangs limp in his hand.
"You're my hero," Ronan says, and Adam snorts, rubs his cheek against the scratch of Ronan's shirt.]
Come on, Lynch. [Adam's arm winds around Ronan's waist, his fingers dropping the hose to the ground as they move back towards the farmhouse, where central heating lives. And, if Adam recalls, Ronan had promised cuddling. Or something.
They walk, and Adam's mind wanders as they move. Sometimes, Ronan's dreaming was a nuisance; an inconvenience. But at least he had...something. Ronan still had that other worldly, magical something to hold on to.
What did Adam have without Cabeswater? He was still trying to figure that out. His fingers itched for his cards.
They make it back to Ronan's childhood home still wrapped in each other, though it made walking quickly hard. But Adam didn't want to let go: he goes through moods of pulling away from any physical affection to wanting to be in constant contact.
He kicks his shoes off as they enter, and sighs.]
Issue solved. Crisis averted. Another victory for team Parrish-Lynch.
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it's all good!
They face off ravens at every turn, smudges and battalions of them, receding before the first nips of water as if they're the devil himself, expelled. Ronan wants to say, You assholes had it coming. Knows they get it, even without the pronouncement.
And then there's Adam, with him, faithful knight in shining armor, waving the hose around like Excalibur, in glory. Ronan concedes him the honor of exterminating their winged threat, neither feather nor beak of them left by the time he's done.
Then, carefully, one arm fastened around his boyfriend's shoulders: ]
You're my hero, Parrish.
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"You're my hero," Ronan says, and Adam snorts, rubs his cheek against the scratch of Ronan's shirt.]
Come on, Lynch. [Adam's arm winds around Ronan's waist, his fingers dropping the hose to the ground as they move back towards the farmhouse, where central heating lives. And, if Adam recalls, Ronan had promised cuddling. Or something.
They walk, and Adam's mind wanders as they move. Sometimes, Ronan's dreaming was a nuisance; an inconvenience. But at least he had...something. Ronan still had that other worldly, magical something to hold on to.
What did Adam have without Cabeswater? He was still trying to figure that out. His fingers itched for his cards.
They make it back to Ronan's childhood home still wrapped in each other, though it made walking quickly hard. But Adam didn't want to let go: he goes through moods of pulling away from any physical affection to wanting to be in constant contact.
He kicks his shoes off as they enter, and sighs.]
Issue solved. Crisis averted. Another victory for team Parrish-Lynch.