marlowemuses | The One Secret I Never Told You

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The One Secret I Never Told You

Ronan was coming home.

He'd sent ahead, Adam supposed. Letter or telegram. And he'd said... what? Adam had no idea. No one had even bothered to tell him. He'd overheard some of the other servants discussing preparations.

That stung, though it shouldn't. He'd always known that their childhood friendship was temporary. Illusory. He'd been a bauble to Ronan, a friendship that came easily and could be cheaply kept.

And when Ronan had been old enough, he'd left. That made sense, too. His father's death, the upheaval of his life, the culmination of the conflict between Ronan and Declan.

What hurt was that he hadn't needed Adam anymore.

Squeaks and whispers preceded the general bustle of servants toward the main hall. Adam stayed out of the way, stealing toward an upper window to catch a glimpse. He wouldn't be missed among the larger array of servants. He was only an under-footman, after all.

Hidden behind a lace curtain, Adam peeked out to watch as Ronan descended from the coach. He'd grown. Taller than Adam remembered. His charming black curls were gone, shorn to a short bristle. The man he'd become was someone handsome and commanding, drawing attention like a thunderstorm.

Adam's heart thudded, then clenched.

Oh.

He'd hoped, all those years, that ignoring his childhood crush would make it go away. That Ronan's distance would make Adam forget him, so that he could focus once and for all on his career. His career, which was the only thing that mattered. The only thing he had left.

Seeing Ronan brought it all back, with more intensity than ever.

Adam was in love with him. And always had been.

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Declan's words stung, and Adam was grateful to be dismissed. He felt like he'd been slapped in the face for a crime he hadn't even had the pleasure to commit.

He hurried back out to the Barns, knowing that Ronan would be worried and possibly angry. His cheeks were flushed and his heart pounding as he pulled the barn door shut behind himself. "I'm back," he called up, struck with a stab of fear that Ronan wouldn't be here, that he wouldn't have waited, that he wouldn't care. "Ronan?"

Ronan had been staring up at the ceiling, brow creasing heavier with lines with each minute that passed and Adam did not return. Worry was knife raking across his ribs, stabbing him repeatedly in the chest like a scorned lover. When it came to himself? Ronan didn't give a shit. Adam was an entirely different thing altogether. Was he all right? Did Declan do something? If Declan did anything to him, Ronan would be furious. Fuck, he was an idiot for leaving Adam Parrish behind in the first place.

When he heard Adam's voice he stood, striding over to the side of the loft and looking down at his old friend.

"I'm here," he said, sounding utterly relieved that Adam had returned.

"Jesus Christ, Parrish. Did he do anything to you?"

"My pride's a bit bruised," Adam said, climbing up the ladder. "But no, he didn't harm me physically. Like you, your brother has always had enough honor not to hit anyone weaker than he is." Despite his many other flaws.

Adam's eyes flicked over Ronan, nervous and trying to hide it. "I accepted the country house on your behalf. You don't have to worry about it. I'll manage it for you, you'll never have to bother with it. He shouldn't press you any farther on the marriage issue. I settled that, though I did allow him to believe that you're fucking me."

Reddening and scowling at that, Adam looked stubbornly at the floor, still hurting from the blows to his pride.

"You—"

Ronan stopped dead, staring at Adam. Adam had... accepted the country house? Without his consent? And what was more—Declan thought they were fucking?

Originally having reached out to touch his old friend, Ronan's hand dropped instantly and he took a step back, awash in a conflict of strong emotions. Confusion. Hurt. Anxiety. Why on earth had Adam told Declan he'd take the house? And—why had Adam said he'd manage it? What happened to—leaving? Hating the Lynches, hating Ronan for leaving him? And then saying that he didn't need to worry about it?

Not to mention that it felt like a stake to the chest, seeing Adam's scowling expression at the thought of them being—something more. Even if what Ronan would want from Adam would be more than just fucking. Fucking ouch. Even though he knew Adam would probably be disgusted by his feelings, seeing that face still hurt.

Ronan didn't understand. Didn't know how to react. The possibility that he could be completely misunderstanding didn't even cross his mind.

Lips thinning, Ronan didn't trust himself to say anything. He walked away, scrubbing his hand over his head, pacing, frustrated at everything.

"Why?" The question came out harsh and rough because he was upset. Don't jump to conclusions, he told himself like a mantra, finally looking back at Adam with an inscrutable expression. His eyes spoke volumes though, reflecting every pained emotion like glass.

Adam looked up at the question, confused by the emotion in it and deeply worried and anxious at the pain in Ronan's eyes. His heart dropped, instantly dreading that he'd erred, and his solutions to Ronan's problems had been all wrong. He didn't even know what Ronan meant by the question, but he had to answer it. There was no way not to answer it.

"I wanted," Adam said, faltering, trying to understand where he'd gone wrong, why Ronan was turning that look on him, one he'd never seen before. "I wanted to make him leave you alone. You didn't want to have to bother with the house, and you would never marry." Remembering that he was a servant, Adam dropped his eyes, further hurt and humiliated by having stepped beyond his reach and having so thoroughly displeased Ronan as a result. "I beg your forbearance, sir. I should not have been so presumptive."

Adam's heart had been in the right place.

It was true that Declan would mostly leave him alone if he thought Ronan was going to inherit the country estate. Ronan was less convinced that Declan would give up trying to marry him off even if he had a lover (it wasn't like Declan cared if he cheated), yet it was enough to throw his brother off of it for now.

Yet he would be living lies. Lies that hurt especially because he wanted them to be truths. Ronan wanted Adam to be his lover. Longed for him—even when they were young he'd cast Adam aching looks when the other boy wouldn't notice. Time hadn't changed his feelings. In fact, it had only worsened them, given that he was in denial about his sexual orientation for a long while.

It was even worse when Adam had said that just for his benefit, out of a kindness, to keep Declan off his case. Ronan didn't want Adam to live lies either—not ones that he would hate, like this one. Being in a relationship with Ronan was scowl-worthy.

The country estate was a different matter altogether. With that, he was mostly just confused. Why would Adam want to work for him? Though, he supposed, if Adam assumed he wanted nothing to do with the house, he wouldn't really have to worry about Ronan.

Head and heart hurting, Ronan rubbed his fingers along the bridge of his nose, not unlike what Declan had done earlier. Brother like brother.

"No. No, it's fine." He didn't even have the heart to curse vibrantly as he usually did. He just sounded tired. "Thank you for caring, Adam." That, at least, helped ease the ache in his chest. Adam had wanted to help him. Adam had no way of knowing that Ronan had been pining over him. Before tonight, Adam didn't even know he liked men. No one did.

Dropping down onto the side of his bed, he gazed out the window. "You don't have to lie for me, though. I don't want you to do that to yourself."

No wonder Ronan was angry with him. He thought Adam had lied.

Adam supposed he had, a little. A lie by omission, if nothing else. "Forgive me," he murmured, sick with misery and guilt. "I know how you hate lies."

Is this what he had become? A person who Ronan hated?

His deaf ear rang, and Adam wanted desperately to stew in his misery. "I'll understand if you want to turn me out for it." A dishonest servant, after all, was a danger to a household, and irredeemable.

Adam stayed where he stood, feeling as though he might collapse from unhappiness. He'd ruined everything.

Ronan's head turned sharply and he stared at Adam once more.

"I would never," he said, slowly, with feeling, "turn you out." The thought was an awful one. The earlier comment he didn't refute—he did hate lies, though he never held anyone else to the same standards. But turn Adam out? No. If the choice was between hurting Adam and dying, there wasn't much of a choice at all.

"I don't like lies, but that's not what I mean." Biting his lip, Ronan moodily looked out the window once more. "You don't have to force yourself to lie about being with me. It's unpleasant for you, right?" He glanced up again. "It'll get around. That you're managing the estate, that I'm fucking you. You don't have to lie about something you hate for me."

Rubbing his hands together, Ronan frowned at the floor.

"And it wouldn't be right," he said, "when I do have..."

He couldn't finish the sentence. Instead, he gave Adam another meaningful look before closing his eyes.

Confused but at least reassured that Ronan wasn't angry at him, Adam came closer, sitting down on the bed. Ronan's position meant that either he had to sit very close or he would have his head at an odd angle to hear Ronan well. Adam chose the latter, trying to make it seem as natural as possible how he turned his body and cocked his head.

"I don't mind, if it makes things easier for you," Adam said, wondering if Ronan was going to finish that sentence by saying that he did already have someone he was fucking. "I don't..."

He looked away, realizing that he'd never responded to Ronan's revelation. Not to Ronan, anyway. Adam thought it was wonderful, but he had to remind himself that he was deceiving himself if he thought it would bring Ronan any closer to him. "I never knew. I wish you'd told me. If... I don't know if you knew back then. Is it... is it Gansey?"

"I ... sort of. Didn't want to know, though, so I tried not to think about it," he admitted, looking at Adam as he sat.

Despite how heavy his heart was, Ronan snorted when Adam asked if it was Gansey and shook his head. "I think everyone has a thing for Gansey at some point. But, no. He's like a brother to me. I think he's making doe eyes some uppity blond now, anyway. Last I heard."

Ronan pressed his lips together again. It felt dishonest to keep his feelings secret from Adam now.

"No... ever since we were kids, I—..."

Gently, he laid his hand on top of Adam's, studying the way their fingers laid together before he forced himself to look away. "Sorry," he mumbled, pulling his hand back, knowing fully well that such actions were over the line. Fingers curling inward, his nails bit into his palm.

"Just. Don't make things easier for me at your own expense. I don't want that. Fuck, Adam. You deserve better than all of this."

Adam smiled at the line about Gansey, nodding his head. "Me too, a little."

Adam thought, for a moment, that Ronan meant him. That Ronan wanted him. Adam's heart and groin both lurched for an instant, wanting so much that he could let himself believe it.

"I've always made things easier for you at my own expense," Adam said, staring at his hand and wishing to have the warmth of Ronan's hand back again. "I wouldn't know how to do anything else."

"I know."

Adam had always been there. Trying to help. Being clever, doing what Ronan wouldn't. Just like tonight—Ronan would never play nice with Declan. Yet Adam had, for his sake.

For a good long minute, Ronan stared at Adam. The fire burning low in the hollow of his chest couldn't be ignored; not anymore. Every pent up feeling. All the things he tried to ignore. All the things he wanted.

Hand pushing into the mattress, Ronan leaned, tucking his face against the side of Adam's face. Lips brushing the other man's ear, he closed his eyes and murmured, "I've always loved you. And now, I want you to be happy."

Only one thing—he had chosen Adam's bad side to press his lips against, unbeknownst to him that Adam wouldn't be able to hear his confession. When he pulled back he looked at Adam, waiting for some kind of answer, knowing full well he was going to get shot down. But Ronan didn't lie and he was tired of hiding the truth.

Shivers went down Adam's spine at the nearness of Ronan, the warmth of his breath tickling at Adam's hair, lips moving against his ear.

Adam didn't hear a thing.

Lost with yearning and uncertainty, Adam's brow furrowed. Ronan was looking at him, waiting for something, expecting something, and Adam didn't have a clue as to what. He hesitated, because he was so protective of that secret, he went so far to hide it. Who would hire a servant who was half-deaf?

"Ronan, I..." he said, faltering, cheeks red with nerves and dread.

Ronan rubbed at his neck, finally glancing away from Adam, like he knew what the answer was. Faltering, the look Adam was wearing. It felt self-explanatory.

"I just had to get it off my chest," he promised, biting the inside of his mouth as he spoke, unable to look at Adam again. "I... won't let it change anything." Adam would still get his reference. Adam could still leave whenever he wanted.

Even so, it felt like he was being smothered, the weight on his chest was so heavy. Admitting his feelings to Adam had been harder than telling Declan the truth about his sexuality. Ronan cared way more about Adam. A thousand times more.

"Ronan," Adam said, soft and nervous, hating that this was one more stumbling block between him and his ambition. He scraped his hands over his palm, struggling with how to say it. "Ronan, I didn't hear you. I couldn't hear you."

He stared down at his lap, feeling flutters of terror rippling through his chest. "...I'm deaf in that ear."

That wasn't what he was expecting Adam to say.

Ronan looked up in alarm, eyebrows flying into his hairline. "You're... what?" Adam hadn't been born with anything like that. When they were kids he had been perfectly fine.

... Oh.

Oh.

His lips thinned and for a moment, he looked truly frightening, features hardening as he ground his teeth.

"What happened?"

Adam's shoulders tensed, mouth flattening. Ronan's fury didn't scare him--never had, since it had always been a fact as sure as sunrise that Ronan was never angry at him.

He didn't like telling tales, didn't like surrendering secrets, didn't like revealing weakness.

"My father hit me," Adam confessed, voice dull and flat. He stared at the opposite wall, not wanting to see Ronan's reaction. "I fell, and tumbled down some stairs."

Those instants were burned in his memory. The pain, the betrayal, the certainty that this was his own fault for not doing better, for not leaving sooner, for being so damned unlucky.

Edited 2016-12-17 20:45 (UTC)

Ronan went quiet in his fury until he cursed, "That son of a bitch." Ronan knew Adam's parents abused him. That was how they became friends in the first place; Adam had been his age, and he had seen Adam getting reprimanded (read: hit) by his father. It was why he had insisted on keeping Adam by his side—at first.

He was smarter at six than he was at nearly twenty. "I shouldn't have left," he said, resting his forehead in his hands and fighting the urge to slide down the ladder and head to the kitchens to beat the shit out of Robert Parrish.

"I'm so fucking stupid. I'm sorry, Adam. Fuck. Fuck. You don't deserve any of this shit. You're the best person, and you don't deserve any of it."

Adam leaned back against one of the posts of the bed, relaxing a little. He was comforted by Ronan's words, his anger, his company. It was nice to feel defended. He'd missed that, and for the first time he felt like he had his Ronan back.

He didn't argue with any of Ronan's words. He agreed with most of it. His father was an asshole, Ronan shouldn't have left, Adam didn't deserve his life. He didn't think anyone deserved his life.

But, most of all, he agreed that Ronan shouldn't have left him.

Staying quiet, Adam hugged his arms over his chest, staring idly at a spot on the floor as he processed his emotions.

"Before," said Ronan, very quietly, "I said that I want you to be happy." The flashes of anger and distress hadn't faded but he knew that if he went to bother Robert Parrish now, they could all end up in trouble. The police looked the other way when a master hit a servant. They couldn't very well ignore a case where the master nearly beat the servant to death.

"And I said..."

Now, the words felt cheap, and he didn't think Adam would want to hear them. Even more so than he thought earlier. Before, he merely thought Adam would be put off and not want to work for him anymore. Now? Adam would probably be disgusted.

But he had said them once. And he would say them again.

"And I said that I've always loved you. I still do." Head bowed, he stared at the floor. "Take the country estate. You can have it. You can go there and get away from everyone. Maybe you can be happy."

Adam's heart fluttered with hope for a moment, before he quelled it. It was a beautiful illusion, the thought of Ronan in love with him, willing to give him everything, a place permanently by his side. But it was only that. An illusion.

He was glad, at least, that Ronan half understood why Adam had accepted the country estate on his behalf. It was freedom and ambition for him, a better position than he could otherwise hope to have in his entire life.

"I love you, too, Ronan," he said, giving him a melancholy smile, with just a hint of something patronizing, because he hadn't understood, and he thought Ronan meant it like he meant for Gansey. As a brother. A friend. A companion.

Not as his equal.

Ronan glanced up at Adam when he said that, recognizing that tone, because he had heard it a thousand times before. From Declan, specifically. Not that he was mad; it was normal for Adam to assume that he meant in a brotherly way. That was, after all, how Adam felt. But he didn't want Adam to think that his thoughts were so innocent and pure. He couldn't, in good conscience, have Adam lie for him if Adam didn't know the truth.

"No," he said, "you don't." The lines between his eyes deepened. Words weren't always so easy for him outside as being as blunt as possible.

Which was why Ronan grabbed Adam's chin and leaned in, pushing their mouths together. It wasn't a dirty kiss, per se, but it wasn't the chaste kiss you'd give your brother either.

Adam's lips were as soft as they looked. Ronan thought his heart might crumble, explode, catch fire, something. It was his first kiss. It was with his first love.

After a few long seconds Ronan dropped his hand and broke the kiss, leaning away. He didn't say anything else. He didn't think he needed to. Adam would realize, be disgusted, and decide that he would like his referral sooner than later.

Still, Ronan watched his old friend's face.

Adam tensed in shock as Ronan kissed him. It wasn't a surprise, not really, not after he'd learned Ronan's inclinations. Of course it made sense for him to be the object of them. Him or Gansey, and he already knew it wasn't Gansey.

Ronan was kissing him. Ronan was kissing him.

He only barely reacted soon enough to return the kiss, but Ronan was already pulling away, as Adam leaned foward with longing.

Staring at him, panting softly, Adam licked his lips, tasting Ronan. He wanted to argue, to call Ronan a selfish prick, to tell him that he didn't know the first thing about what love was, that he didn't even know who Adam was anymore, that he'd never thought about what Adam wanted, about who Adam loved, because he'd never thought to ask. Adam had only ever been his plaything.

Pride warred with desire, but the longing for approval, for love, for comfort and kindness won out, and Adam reached for him, pressing close and kissing Ronan again.

Ronan expected some of those things. Maybe all of them. He was selfish; he'd focused on his own pain when his father died. Selfishly, he left Adam behind, and Adam had suffered for it. And he was stupid, didn't know much about love other than what he grappled with.

He hadn't asked Adam because it seemed so impossible.

He should have asked Adam. A long time ago.

Because before he knew what was happening, they were kissing again, and he hadn't been the one who initiated it. Ronan's hand pressed onto Adam's thigh as he leaned in, returning the kiss and feeling absolutely winded that it was even happening at all.

The kiss was everything he wanted, everything he needed, and he desperately wanted to melt into it, but his pride flared, and he shoved Ronan back.

"You left me," Adam snapped, temper finally let loose from its chains, freed finally by that kiss and Adam's own pride, re-awakening the stubborn and hot-tempered young man that had been sleeping under Adam's ingrained subservience. "You left me, without a word, without a letter, and now you come back and you want me to puppy-dog along at your heels like nothing happened? You left me, and every day I wondered if I'd die here, with no one in the world who loved me and only Gansey who would even notice that I'd gone."

He stood, shaking with anger, with fire under his skin.

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