#forestbled

adam doesn’t seem to LIKE making a big deal of his birthday. he seemed happy with all wendy’s suggestions — a bike ride, a picnic in the woods, back to adam’s to watch a movie together, and what she delicately referred to as ‘ private time ’ , blushing all the while. now, later, they lie in the humid heat of adam’s bedroom, with blinds drawn and windows wide open, and a small fan by the bed doing its damnedest to keep them cool. the sheets are kicked to the end of the bed so wendy draw lines between adam’s freckles with her fingertips, dreaming constellations over his chest & arms & cheeks.

❛ you think i need you to ? ❜

HE CAN STILL TASTE THE BLOOD IN HIS MOUTH , all copper chaos and lacking regret , but when he wipes his lips with the back of his hand , it just comes away clean. at the moment , it may be the only thing clean about him , but he wouldn’t complain. it isn’t in ronan’s nature to complain about needing to be CLEANSED , no matter how many hours spent bowed over the back of a church bench. 

❛ because i don’t , parrish. i don’t need anyone to fight for me. ❜

he’s learned that it’s difficult to be omniscient at the center of the story , but few lack the devotion to their truth it would take to hide it from him. he surrounds himself with people who are too honest , at least with ronan if not themselves , and every now and again , the cost is too great to bare. but he won’t say that. he definitely won’t tell adam that. it would be like pushing a baby bird out of a nest , and ronan is cruel. scathing even. but he isn’t THAT. 

at the very least , he doesn’t want to be. 

it’s almost pathetic , knowing you can dream yourself an entire world —even if it is compact as a forest on the edge of reality— and still cannot get yourself a goddamn clue. he can’t turn to other boy and ask him to stand down because that would display an entirely other kind of caring , one neither of them are ready for. but he won’t say that the offer doesn’t . . . touch him somewhere deep , somewhere the ache doesn’t reach anymore. not all the time. 

noah blinks at adam for a moment or two, uncertain if he should take him SERIOUSLY. “ don’t be stupid ! you’ve gotta stay here. ” he rests a hand against adam’s shoulder, pushing him back down onto the bed. “ if you go to class, you’ll get everyone sick. i know --- i can go for you ! i can collect your homework ... ” he loses his train of thought as adam shivers. noah slides his hand down adam’s arm. he grabs the blankets to drape over him.

“ do you like soup ? ” he glances over his shoulder at adam’s cupboards. “ do you even have soup ? ” redirecting his gaze back onto adam, he offers a sheepish grin. “ sorry. i should slow down. ”

❝   acts of affection.   ;   accepting

if declan was able to have friends, real friends, like ronan did, he’d probably want them to stay over as often as ronan’s friends do. so he can’t really begrudge ronan the instinct to have gansey & parrish & czerny round almost weekly.

but on the weekends, running errands for dad, and he often doesn’t get him ‘til two in the morning. all he really wants to do is go to bed, but very often one of ronan’s friends will be up. he’s watched nature documentaries with gansey; eaten lucky charms in the middle of the night with czerny.

and parrish … parrish was awake when declan got home with a black eye from the butt of a gun, grazed knuckles and rope burn, LIMPING from injuries he didn’t want to explain. somewhere along the line, parrish started waiting up for declan to get home. he can always tell when declan’s hiding bruises under his shirt, and though declan won’t, can’t, tell him the truth, he knows that adam is SMART enough to work it out.

tonight has been a long night, but not a violent one. declan’s home much later than usual, and he’s certain that no one is waiting up for him. as he reaches the front door, it opens. declan’s too surprised to identify the emotion on adam’s face — concern ? relief ? — before adam pulls him round the corner of the house where the porch-light doesn’t reach. he pushes declan up against the wall, pinning his hands to the wall, and kisses him. there’s something DESPERATE about it: even when adam releases declan’s wrists, he keeps declan pinned against the wall with his hips. his fingers curl under declan’s collar, pressing down just enough to remind declan how STRONG he knows adam is. 

he didn’t know that adam was capable of directing such hunger & emotion at declan of all people. it makes him breathless in a way most other kisses haven’t. most other kisses don’t happen like this: vulnerable & sleep deprived at five am, charged with the knowledge that adam knows more of declan’s SECRETS than anyone else.