#pynches

‘Could you not make it sound like you’re committing a crime?’

‘Matty said you would post bail.’

He shoved the phone back into the pocket of his leather jacket before Declan could reply and before he could give in to the urge to text Adam. He had a right to be here, he reminded himself, going to the front desk to check in.

“Business or pleasure, Mr. Lynch?” the woman asked with a customer service smile.

He blinked at her. “Pleasure,” he answered because Ronan Lynch hated to lie.

Something about his expression ensured she didn’t ask him any more questions, processing his rarely used credit card and handing him a key. He shoved it into his back pocket, ignoring how much he wanted to check his phone. To tell Adam he was here.

Instead, he glanced at his watch to make sure he wouldn’t be late and followed the signs to the restroom so he could calm the fuck down. He planned to be the last one in — not late, that would catch even more attention — intending to slip into a back row where he wouldn’t distract Adam from his work, but he could just listen. He had a right to be here, he reminded himself. In Adam’s freshman year, Ronan had dreamt a pile of murder crabs into Adam’s dorm and got himself banned from setting foot on Harvard property again.

This evening’s seminar was being held in the ballroom of a local hotel room, not Harvard.  No one could ban him from that if he didn’t make any trouble. He looked at himself in the mirror, scowling at his buzz cut and leather jacket. He’d worn something relatively nice so he wouldn’t get kicked out just on principle, but he thought he still looked like trouble. Most of the time, he was more than okay with that. Where Adam was concerned, he didn’t always want to be the loser boyfriend.

Ronan was about to talk himself into heading to a seat when the door pushed open, and none other than Adam walked in. He blinked, doing a double-take at Ronan standing in front of the sink, looking as surprised as Ronan felt.

“You came,” he said, sounding relieved. His gaze moved over Ronan, from top to bottom and back up again. His eyes darkened. “You look good.”

Adam glanced over his shoulder to make sure he hadn’t been followed, and while Ronan was still trying to figure out something cool to say in response, he kissed him. Ronan melted, thought immediately turning to instinct as he put his hands on Adam’s waist. They didn’t kiss for as long as Ronan would have liked, but there was color in Adam’s cheeks when he pulled away, wearing the grin he reserved for all things Ronan. His sweater had been a Christmas gift, nestled over a sharp tie and a pressed button-down shirt. Ronan wanted to see the sleeves rolled up, his hair tousled, wanted to be anywhere but this hotel restroom. He shoved his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t do something regrettable like pull Adam back in for another kiss.

“For luck,” Adam said, touching his lower lip with his fingertips.

“You’re not gonna need it. Being an asshole because you’re right is kinda your thing.”

Adam laughed. That belonged to Ronan too. “Bastard.”

Ronan shrugged his acknowledgment and averted his eyes somewhere other than Adam’s face. “I got a room. Y’know, for after. I wasn’t planning on sleeping.”

“What a coincidence. If we have a room for the night, I wouldn’t let you.”

Ronan smirked, feeling heat creeping up into his face, anticipation curling in his belly. “Glad you see it my way.”

Adam looked at his reflection one last time, rolling his shoulders and taking a few deep breaths. Ronan watched him, mesmerized as always by this confident, powerful version of Adam about to take the stage. Success looked even better on him than all the nice clothes in the world, if Ronan had anything to say about it. Satisfied with his appearance, Adam turned on his heel, leaning in to steal another kiss. This time, it was a chaste thing at the corner of Ronan’s mouth; he couldn’t afford to get distracted just yet.

“I’ve gotta go. Tamquam.”

“Alter idem,” Ronan replied.

Pleased, Adam opened the door while Ronan watched his shoulders, letting in the din from out in the hall. One more glance over his shoulder, meeting his dreamer’s eyes. Then he was gone, off to verbally take apart anyone who had the balls to debate him. Something about that got to Ronan in a way he couldn’t explain if he tried, so he just didn’t try.

Ronan smiled to himself. “You’re gonna be great.”