#bronan

okay okay okay this was. okay i had quite a bit of fun with this one, too. thank you so much for this. i never get to write bronan what. this is probably the closest to a non magic au i've written? *inserts vague lore ridden au backdrop for your benefit so you know i didn't just fuck up the trc timeline* bone apple teeth i promise there's a madness to this method.

Blue knew when to take responsibility and she would have, but when she'd jokingly regaled her woes, and Ronan had offered to get her mind off all this shit, he could have cut her off when she'd involved property damage. Which he hadn’t. Too little, too late, and she really should have known where Ronan sat on the list of emotional consults before seeking him out.

(Admittedly higher than some. Namely her entire friend circle. Which she refused to expand. Meaning Ronan was her best option regardless. Now wasn’t that a bit depressing?)

“Now why,” And she balked a smidge at the scold of Gansey's voice, fingers curled over steering wheel, adamantly fixated on the road. “Would you egg someone's car?”

Noah bit his lip, where he'd been stationed between Blue and Ronan. Henry, pattering fingers along window panes, twist to assert with a crooked grin, “Well done, both of you.”

It was equally unfair he wasn't reprimanded for this—but Henry received cards others didn't, and Gansey dealt the most generous of hands.

“Shut up, Cheng.”

“You know Adam had to bike to work?” Gansey said; Blue had half a mind to remind Adam would loath his circumstance used to brew pity, but Gansey was making a point. To Ronan.

Not her.

Another issue.

“He'll live.” Ronan bit out, though a timid deflated shame melted spines to slump in seats. “If he gets a cold, you can wipe his ass when he shits everywhere.”

“You think Parrish is a shit guy?” Henry frowned, “He seems a vom–”

“And you got shit out both ends.” Ronan snapped. “Why the fuck are you here?”

Blue had clocked Ronan's protective edge about Adam—less a shield, more a blade—and its ill disguised wield; he hid it well, under guise of mockery.  

“Because Adam had work, and there was no time to drive him to Mountain View then back to Boyd's, and–”

“Doesn’t explain why I have to see his mug–”

“Love you too,” Henry cooed, verbal blow and kiss. “Careful, got some brown on your nose. If you're that sore, I'll take the burden and chauffeur Parrish about. Can't be much worse tha–”

“That's fucking–” Ronan craned to unlatch buckle, fling seatbelt back, already lifting off seat. Noah jumped to press him back, more panic than assertion, Henry cackling, taunting, head tilted back and Blue tracking the course of egg shell and yolk where it bled down patchwork and steel toe, congealed and guilty.

“Ronan!” Brake, set, car thrash. Enraged. Steam, outpour from ears. The Pig spluttered rather miraculously as they hobbled to pitstop, roadside. Gansey shift to park, half crawling over console to press Ronan back by the chest, five-finger splay. “Absolutely not. Absolutely not.”

“Gansey, you're fucking, kidding–” Ronan thrashed, halfhearted; he went lax under Gansey's command most days regardless; the grip only further incentive.

“You're going to sit and wait until we get back, you're not going to start another fight. You can wait the ten minutes, then you're welcome to run about in the parking lot until you've burned all this energy off but you will not attack Henry.”

Ronan gave another performative huff, show of belligerence. Pressed partway against Gansey's arm—and Blue admittedly eyed the shift of polo sleeve where it exposed a further sliver of shoulder breadth, cheeks flushed in recall: no, we're not going there. 

“You already got Jane in trouble. You're not getting us all into a crash–”

“He didn't get me into trouble.” Blue snapped, suddenly. Gansey blinked. Leaned back, both brows raised. “It was my idea."

“The fuck–” Ronan rattled against Gansey's grip once more, spitting venom when Henry found himself overcome in yet another bought and laughter. “The hell it was–”

“I was the one who agreed to go with Ronan to Mountain View.” Blue said, “And I was the one who told Ronan to go to the store to get eggs. And I was the one who threw it first. This was all me. Ronan just didn't disagree. Don't absolve me of any blame just because–” Lips flattening, and ears warm; mirror match with Gansey's own rampant flush. 

“Because what?” Henry goaded, delighted. Noah blinked between the four of them.

Blue was suddenly grateful Adam wasn't here.

“Sargent's teacher is a piece of shit.” Ronan said, “Besides, not like they'd think it was her if I'm there too.”

Blue tilt her head, to catch Ronan's eye, but he'd craned to scowl out the window, shoulders in defensive blockade.

Gansey hesitated. Too long. “Your teacher?” He asked, a beat and orchestral swell of blood in ears. 

“I don't want to talk about it.” She said.

“You told Ronan.” Gansey said.

“If I jump off a bridge with Ronan, you want me to invite you first?”

“No, but you…” Gansey shut eyes, long breathe in, another few out. Released Ronan in another countdown. Replaced ferocity and grip around car wheel. “Alright. We can talk about it later.”

“Yeah, Sargent owes me an apology.” Ronan said, mild muffled against curl of fist, arc of wrist where he'd dug knuckles to philtrum. “I got egg white on my crotch. Shit impression.”

“What, hot date?” Henry crooned.

“Me?” She gawked, craned to swerve around Noah's head; “Apologize? I think you've got me mistaken for someone else–”

“Well next time don't come to me bitching and moaning because wah wah your big meanie teacher made a snide comment. What happened to sticks and stones, Sargent?”

“I'll show you sticks and stones–”

Gansey, forehead. Forehead, wheel. Wheel, brrrrrrrrrrrrrp. 

Noah, timing. Timing, chiming. Finally, making input, his voice a typically placating thing:

“Is it a bad time to ask for a bathroom stop?”

This was exactly why she didn't spend time with Ronan.