Video | Open :: Action | Somewhat open

[fictor]

[ There's a scowling, angry boy with pale skin and a shaved head. He's got a five o' clock shadow and is wearing a black tank top. The sharp edges of tattoo can be seen curling up out of his collar and covering one shoulder. There is, almost impossibly looking, a raven sitting on that tattoo shoulder pressed against the boy's shaved head. ]

I hate these fucking things. [ Phones. He hates cellphones and the PDA is basically a smart phone that only works within Itinere.]

So the doors back home aren't working. From what I hear, that's not unusual. Anything else weird happen here, or did we all pervenire in solidum?

[ The boy starts to shove the phone into his pocket, speaking to someone off screen as he does--Come on, Parrish abeamus. Find these goddamn apartment buildings]


[ooc: If someone would like to intercept Adam and Ronan on the way to the apartment building or happen upon them in the lobby, feel free. You're liable to get one or both of them. ]

Comments

[adamparrish]

With Ronan in the bed, Adam noticed everything. He felt the mattress shift with each and every movement. And once Ronan was settled, he could feel the other's eyes on him as he continued to stare at the ceiling as if it were oh so very interesting. There was space enough between them for two, maybe three people if they were Adam's and Ronan's sort of slim. But it felt like Ronan was closer than that in spite of the obvious proof to the contrary.

Of course the motorcycle would be a dream thing. Once Ronan said as much, it made sense. He'd known the BMW never needed any work, never needed filled up, never needed to be serviced. Adam didn't know how to repay that kind of gift. And Adam wanted a way to repay it. He didn't necessarily need a way, like he once had. But he wanted it.

"That's not considered an abuse of power or something?" He asked, still teasing.

[fictor]

Good. Everything about Ronan wanted to be noticed, but maybe most particularly everything in this moment. It felt important, regardless of how Ronan had (and would continue) insisted it was no big deal. There was plenty of space between them and no space at all. Ronan wasn't sure how he felt about that right now. On the one hand, it was far too much space and he wanted there to be less space, squeezed in the backseat of the Pig less space. On the other hand, less space would simply lead to more frustration, more confusion and even less of an idea of what to do and where to go with this. More space was probably better until they both figured them out.

As long as he didn't feel he needed to repay him, Ronan would let Adam do whatever he liked in order to satisfy that desire to repay him.

Ronan smirked at Adam's teasing. "Abuse of power is dreaming up a fleet of motorcycles. I think one motorcycle, one pie and a never-ending pitcher of milk is allowed. Besides, you can tell me in the morning when you've got dream hangover whether it's an abuse or not."

Because it was Adam that would suffer the consequences of what Ronan dreamed, not him.

[adamparrish]

"If I end up with a dream hangover, you have to cook me breakfast. I've heard it's good hangover food." But in all seriousness, that was absolutely the best way to describe what it felt like when Ronan dreamed too much. A hangover that didn't go away, messed with his mood and his mind. It was a horrible feeling to be so out of sorts and out of control in every way. It made Adam wonder why people drank so much when it inhibited their control.

Adam shifted to shove his legs beneath the sheets. He rolled onto his side to face Ronan, one arm curled up under the pillow beneath his head. He'd known Ronan was watching him. Now he could see it. He looked down to some non-descript spot on Ronan's chest. Sometimes Adam could look Ronan in the eyes and keep looking. This was not one of those times.

"This isn't as bad as I thought it would be." He offered by way of convincing himself and easing any concerns Ronan might still have about their sharing a bed. "Bad as in awkward. It's not so awkward."

[fictor]

Ronan smirked at that. "The fuck you think I can cook, Parrish? Hope you like bacon." Ronan drank because before he'd learned how to work his dreams, drinking had made his dreams more fluid, easier to manipulate, easier to bring what he wanted out. He drank because it made hating himself easier. He drank because it made navigating his emotions easier. When he was drunk, Ronan wasn't as guarded about his feelings. It's not that he expressed himself any better verbally, but he was less concerned about how he actually sounded while trying to express himself. He preferred his habits with hangovers because Ronan wanted to punish himself. Ronan could give Adam an education on why he drank and why he liked hangovers if he liked. Adam knew enough to understand Ronan.

Ronan was still watching him with that intent stare, gaze unwavering. His position mirrored Adam's. It didn't bother him that Adam couldn't look at him, it didn't change that Ronan was staring at him.

He smirked again at Adam's comment. "We've slept closer than this before." There was less space between them when Ronan had slept on the floor in Adam's room. Of course, it had seemed like more because it wasn't the same bed, because it was a split level of horizontal and vertical space.

[adamparrish]

"I only have bacon when we go out for breakfast and I steal it from your plate." Adam answers with a fond look, which is quite an accomplishment, looking fond without smiling. Somehow, Adam pulls it off, remembering how he would sneak some of Ronan's bacon, how Ronan would look thoroughly put out about it but would let him do it. He suspected that Ronan let him do it because he knew that Adam couldn't buy his own breakfast aside from coffee and wouldn't let anyone else do it. Stealing a piece of bacon to rile Ronan up seemed innocent enough.

Strangely, the longer it happened, the less Ronan's stare felt uncomfortable and the more Adam enjoyed it. Ronan chose him to stare at. Ronan Lynch chose him.

"In my room you mean?" He knew that that was what Ronan meant. "That was different." In a lot of ways, but Adam reached a hand out across the space between them over the mattress, just resting halfway between them. "I could never get this close to you back there."

[fictor]

"Yeah, well someone has to feed your skinny ass," Ronan responds without any real heat. And Ronan always responds with some sort of insult or curse, keeping up the ruse that Adam is 'stealing' his bacon. If anyone noticed that Ronan ordered extra bacon, no one ever said anything.

Ronan didn't stare at many people. He usually glared, or his eyes glanced off people with contempt.

He snorts. "No in the back of the Pig." Where they never actually slept. Ronan had pretended once to avoid talking to Declan. There's a snappy, witty, vaguely insulting comment on the tip of his tongue but Adam steals all his words by using the word 'could'. He makes it sound almost as if he wants to get closer to Ronan, almost as if he's not afraid of all Ronan's edges that cut. "Yeah, it's different," he finally concedes, robbed of the ability to say anything else. The words we could end up a lot closer fling themselves against Ronan's teeth and he swallows them down. "Didn't know you wanted to," he finally says, unable to keep those words in.

[adamparrish]

A part of Adam took the comment in stride, while another part of him responded with hackles raised. Adam had never done well with people looking down on him in any way, with being judged. The problem was that the truth was that he was skinny. He was skinny because he ate very little. He was skinny because he had no money and little food and was usually too proud to take what was offered.

He knew Ronan was ribbing him though. Adam countered. "What, you wish I had a beer belly? No thanks."

In the back of the pig. Yeah, he knows that closeness all to well, how once Blue had rejected him Ronan had started sitting in the back seat with him. He had been thankful for it at the time, accepted it because he'd needed to. And then it had become common place. "It... it feels good to be looked at the way you look at me sometimes." The words are said quietly, a whispered secret.

[fictor]

It should be clear by the way Ronan looked at Adam that he liked skinny, at least the kind of skinny that Adam was. That wasn't to say that Ronan wouldn't keep trying to feed Adam. He wasn't mother hen enough to want to 'fatten' Adam up, but he cared enough to want to take care of him. Part of that was feeding someone.

Ronan smirked at that. If he thought Adam would be comfortable with it, he would reach and grab his shirt, he would glide his fingertips over Adam's stomach. Instead, he kept his hands to himself just as he'd promised. "No fucking way," he scoffed. His words probably making it clear enough that Ronan liked him the way he was.

His eyebrows lifted slightly at Adam's words. He wasn't sure how to respond to them. Ronan was comfortable enough flirting (at least his version of flirting) but he didn't know what to do with something genuine, something fragile and sincere. Maybe it was the whispered secret quality of the words, or the moment, or the fact that they were here alone. Whatever it was, he opted to let go of artifice and attitude and simply respond with the truth.

"Then I won't stop looking."

[adamparrish]

Adam's fingers itched to reach out to Ronan too and Adam had no idea if not just Ronan would be okay with that, but whether he would be okay with the move himself either. It was all too new and complicated. So instead, he curled his arms up, one under the pillow beneath his head and the other hand sliding under the pillow as well.

The corners of his lips twitched with a hint of a smile at the idea that Ronan wouldn't quit watching. It made him feel better than he would admit to right now. He'd already said a lot more than he had intended. So finally he closes his eyes.

"G'night Ronan." He says softly. He would try like hell to stay asleep where he is. In the morning though, before the son even got up, he would wake up to find himself wrapped around Ronan and fall back asleep that way.

[fictor]

And Ronan won't push, not right now anyway. He takes his cue from Adam, not curling up quite the way Adam does, but folds one arm under his pillow and rests his head on it.

Ronan returns the hint of a smile with a satisfied smirk of his own.

"Night, Parrish," Ronan responds, closing his eyes. When he does realize that Adam is wrapped up around him later, he won't move or push Adam off of him. He'll just go back to sleep until insomnia, restlessness and a too active mind drive him from bed, any hope of sleep gone forever.