Boys had been more proud and excited than Adam had ever seen him before, and it had eased the pain of failure inside him.

A year later, Boyd had surprisingly scored a big gig: a contract with a large race car club. And now, Adam was working full time at Richmond International Raceway, gaining the experience of his life time.  And on days when Adam didn’t long for higher education, he loved his job. A lot. The smooth rumble of an engine, the feeling of a hood shook by healthy vibrations and the way his muscles pulled and pushed when he was hoisting tires around held some deep satisfaction for Adam.

If only it wasn’t for the drivers. They all were neurotic about their cars at best, and downright arrogant assholes at worst, engaging in petty gossip about each other and using their minute of fame to pick up as many girls as they could.

So, naturally, when Adam was told he’d be working on Ronan Lynch’s car, he expected the worst. Adam had only ever seen Lynch and his midnight black BMW from afar. Of course he knew about the statistics- Lynch, one of the youngest drivers in the sport, with a winning streak to break records, reckless and sharp-edged, who disliked the press.  Adam thought he was probably just a huge asshole. 

-

Lynch’s car was a beauty. 

Sleek, black, sexy in a way only cars could be. 

Boyd had taken Adam aside last night. “I know you won’t, but just let me say this, boy: don’t fuck this up, yeah? I know you can do it, you’re my best mechanic, just... this is an important gig, okay? Give me your all.”

Adam had just nodded a “Yes, Sir.” and then rolled his eyes quietly to himself after turning away from the old man. Like he didn’t always give his best. 

Adam was alone in the garage- it was five in the morning, after all. Adam liked getting up early for work, liked being the very first one in the garage, having peace and quiet to work. He didn’t sleep a lot, anyways.

He popped the hood open, taking a minute to admire the BMW’s shiny, polished guts. Adam pressed his fingers against them here and there, running a gentle thumb over cool metal. “Gorgeous.”, he whispered to himself.

“You trying to fuck my car or fix it?”

The sharp voice behind Adam made him swivel around. And there he was: Ronan Lynch, in all his glory. He was taller than Adam had expected, dressed in all black with the hood of his sweat jacket up, covering his shaved head. His eyes were a startling icy blue- Adam usually wasn’t one to notice people’s eyes, but Lynch’s were so striking that he couldn’t help it. 

“Admiring them a little before getting to work usually makes them more cooperative.”, Adam replied before he could get his sarcasm under control. “Cars are like girls in that way.” It was the sort of talk Adam disliked, but never failed to make drivers laugh and clap his shoulder. 

Lynch just gave him an unimpressed, sneering grin. “Fuck would I know.” He approached, and took a look over Adam’s shoulder, then at Adam. Lynch had a very sharp jawline, Adam noticed. 

“So, you’re the kid everyone talks about? That damn good mechanic?”

“I didn’t know people talked about me.”, Adam replied and turned away from Lynch and back towards the car. 

Another sneer.

“Why are you up at five in the fucking morning? You like work that much?” Finally, Lynch gave Adam some more space, leaning back against one of the waist-high tool containers. Adam was glad about that; he hated having people looking over his shoulder when he worked.

“I like the quiet.”, Adam said, seeing no need to lie. “...I don’t need a lot of sleep.” Well, that was a lie. Adam needed sleep- sleep just didn’t come to him very easily.

“Hm.” The nod Lynch gave him was... understanding, in a weird, brass way. 

“You gonna let me do my work now?”, Adam asked. In his mind, he could see Boyd cringe. Adam sure as hell wasn’t going to treat Lynch any different from any other moron lounging around in his work space just because he was famous.

“Sure, man.” Lynch’s grin had something... animalistic. “Just treat him right.”

“Him?” Adam couldn’t help the lazy curiosity in his voice.

“Yeah.” There was that brass edge again, and Adam could see the wall shoot up behind Lynch’s eyes. Oh.

“No worries.” There was the barest hint of laughted in Adam’s voice; who would have guessed. Ronan Lynch, man of many mysteries. “I’ll make sure he’ll be purring when you get him back.” 

Adam couldn’t deny the shivers running down his spine when Lynch’s wall crumbled. 

“Yeah, alright.”, Lynch spat out. When he left the garage, he did so by slamming the door shut loud enough to send the crash reverbrating through the huge room. 

In the kitchen Declan checks the fridge and pantry for ingredients and then dons the apron Ronan gave him as a gag gift: it’s kelly green with white text that reads Kiss Me, I’m an Asshole. He wishes Jiang were here to help or just to chat; the house feels way too empty without him. Declan switches the playlist to upbeat and turns up the volume as he sets out the ingredients for pancakes and bacon. He’s made this breakfast many times, minus the bacon, and doesn’t have to consult a recipe as he measures out everything, mixing it up while the skillet heats on the stove.

He’s in the midst of singing out the chorus for “The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song” and tossing a pancake when Ronan enters the kitchen, Adam trailing behind him. Adam’s hair is wet and dripping onto his oversized college sweatshirt. Declan notices that he’s wearing a pair of Ronan brand sleep shorts with a pattern of black ravens flying across the pale blue flannel. Ronan looks sleepy but otherwise happy. He, like Declan, is shirtless and Declan’s eyebrows shoot up when he spots the new tattoo sitting low on Ronan’s hip. Latin. How very Aglionby.

“You copying Mr. Gray’s music?” Ronan asks as he leans against the kitchen island. He snags a piece of bacon and crunches on it.

“Hmm?” Declan plates the pancakes and starts on the next batch.

“The Flaming Lips,” Adam supplies, snatching the bacon from Ronan. “Mr. Gray likes them about as much as The Kinks.”

“Hey!” Ronan says, playfully grabbing Adam’s wrist. “I was gonna eat that!”

Adam shoves the rest of the bacon in his mouth and beams. “It’s called sharing, Ronan.”

“Ronan never picked up that lesson,” Declan comments. He can feel Ronan glowering at his back. He smirks and retrieves the butter and orange juice from the fridge. “He always wanted my Legos and then he wouldn’t give them back.”

“Dude you never played with those fucking Legos,” Ronan gripes. He picks up another piece of bacon, breaks it in two, and hands a piece to Adam. “I rescued them.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” Declan sets the butter and syrup on the bar and pours glasses of orange juice. Adam helps carry them over and Ronan hoards the bacon. “Just like you rescued my Hot Wheels?”

Ronan flips him off, too busy chewing to reply.

They take their seats at the bar, Adam sitting between Declan and Ronan presumably to keep them from squabbling. Declan doesn’t mind. He and Adam never got the chance to know one another while they were at Aglionby so he welcomes any opportunity he has to get to know his brother’s boyfriend. He’s glad to see how relaxed Adam is in his home and how he makes Ronan calmer, kinder. They all grab pancakes from the pile and pass around butter and syrup. If Declan had thought about it sooner he would have bought strawberries and whipped cream but this will have to do.

Adam takes a bite of his pancakes and smiles politely at Declan. “Thanks for cooking for us. This is really good.”

Now it’s Declan’s turn to beam. Yes, he is trying to butter up Adam as a way to show Ronan that he can be a good older brother, but he’s also genuinely pleased that Adam likes his cooking.

“I really enjoy cooking,” Declan says. “Now that I’m on my own I like trying new recipes, seeing what works. I usually cook vegetarian because of Jiang.”

Ronan bypasses him mentioning Jiang and asks, “If that’s the case, what’s for lunch?”

“You’ll be here for lunch?” Declan’s surprised. He thought for sure that Ronan would leave as soon as possible or at least go out and do something with Adam while they’re in the city.

“We came to see you, didn’t we?” Ronan asks. His tone is belligerent but underneath that Declan senses his uncertainty.

“Oh. Okay.” Declan drinks some coffee to stall until he can say something more encouraging or brotherly or whatever Ronan is looking for. “Well there’s not a ton to do here but I’ve got a couple hammocks we can set up out back. There’s the community swimming pool, as well. I have books? Some cards?”

“No Legos?” Adam asks. He’s smiling so Declan knows he’s only teasing.

“Well, no. But I have baby pictures! I know you’ve probably seen all the ones at the Barns…”

“I haven’t, actually,” Adam corrects. He shoots a look at Ronan. “Someone says he can’t find them.”

“Ronan!” Declan makes an aggrieved sound. “You’re depriving your boyfriend of your most adorable moments?”

Ronan’s mouth is full of pancakes so he can only glare at the two of them.

That’s how they end up sprawled on the living room floor, heavy photo albums spread out on the carpet, Adam slowly turning the pages and exclaiming over the pictures.

“What happened here?” Adam asks. “Ronan, you’re covered in mud!”

“God, I remember that,” Declan laughs. “Ronan saw some show about monster trucks mud bogging and he just had to do it. So he took the knock-off Barbie Jeep dad had dreamed—”

“It was NOT Barbie!” Ronan interrupts. “It was camo and it was awesome!”

Adam rolls his eyes. “And you think I’m a hick. Declan, continue.”

“Right. So Ronan drives his Jeep down to this muddy little duck pond we had and he proceeds to go wild, racing all in it, scaring all the ducks and geese half to death. Which was fine until he got the Jeep stuck out in the middle of it and cried because it wouldn’t restart. I had to wade out in that muck to fetch him. Mom was laughing so hard she barely kept it together enough to take this picture.”

Declan touches the edge of the yellowing photo, remembering Aurora’s pure laugh, her honey-colored hair tossed by the wind. She always seemed too radiant to be real. Declan remembers how he had been shocked when meeting other adults, how dull they seemed in comparison to his parents, how tame their children were next to Ronan and Matthew. He’s known since a young age that his family was special, that they needed to be protected. He may have lost his parents but he’ll do anything to keep his brothers safe.

“I just remember dad said that if I’d buggered my Jeep he wasn’t giving me a new one,” Ronan says. He’s reclined next to Adam, propped up on one elbow, his eyes fixed on the picture.

Adam turns to Ronan and smiles fondly. “I bet y’all just towed it away and didn’t bother trying to fix it.”

Ronan shrugs. “How do you fix a dream thing?”

“That’s a problem worth considering,” Adam muses. “I’m sure we could find a way.”

And that right there is why Declan didn’t balk when Ronan eventually told him about Adam. Declan’s always known that Ronan wouldn’t give his heart lightly, that he would wait until he found someone who could accept all of him, and Adam Parrish is that someone. Here he is on Declan’s living room floor calmly discussing dreams and magic, smiling at his brother like Ronan hung the moon. Ronan looks back at him, eyes full, mirroring his admiration. They’re ridiculously cute.

Declan gets up and excuses himself to get coffee. He leans against the kitchen counter, smiling. He hopes that Niall and Aurora can see this and that they know. Their sons are going to be alright.

[some notes: 1) I ship Declan and Jiang and currently have a fic about them going (No One’s Favorite); I usually have them as a couple in whatever I write. 2) There are some small references to other fic I’ve written: the hip tattoo is from one of the Pynch Week prompts titled Claimed and the reference to Adam and Ronan being loud is kind of a joke because I wrote a smutty fic titled Quietly where they stay over at Declan’s and try to be quiet... apparently Declan heard something ;) 3) all of my Pynch week prompts are going to be cross posted on my ao3 (justdk) so if you want to find them there check sometime this weekend