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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Adam's breathing evened out, after a while, and the hot tears stopped falling. He leaned more heavily against Ronan, loosening his grip slightly and just letting Ronan hold him.

Ronan loved him. Ronan wanted to spend a life with him.

Adam's mind clicked quietly, making plans, while he recovered from the emotional intensity of their mutual confessions. "Jerk," he mumbled, utterly drained and feeling dizzy with it.

"Absolutely," he agreed, smoothing his hand over the top of Adam's head when he felt his grip lighten up. How many times had he wanted to stroke Adam's hair like this? Too many. He had lost count over the years.

"Tired?" he asked, combing his fingers through that hair, brushing it this way and that. It was getting late, and having to talk to Declan was always exhausting. Between that and confessing to Adam, Ronan was quite tired himself, and perhaps a little hungry.

Adam nodded, trusting himself to Ronan's arms, letting his head rest sleepily on Ronan's shoulder. It had been an intense day for him, after his sleepless worry at finding Ronan gone, talking to Declan, and now this.

There was so much to do, and Adam just wanted to collapse. "Ronan," he murmured, nuzzling at him as Ronan's fingers combed soothingly through his hair.

"Come on," he coaxed, guiding Adam to the master bed with a surprising amount of gentleness. Then again, Ronan was gentle—just mostly to animals, and not people. Adam was someone he wanted to be gentle with.

Depositing Adam into his bed, Ronan slipped in beside him so that he could continue to play with his hair. I miss your hair. Smiling to himself, Ronan teased strands between his fingers. If Adam missed his hair... maybe he'd start growing it again. A little. Too long would remind him of Niall Lynch—though, maybe over time, that might seem like a good thing rather than a bad one.

Adam cuddled close to him in the bed, seeking that warmth and affection which he offered. There was no reason to deny himself anymore. Ronan was his ally, his equal, the other half of his soul. Together, they could build a future that would make them happy.

Expecting only to close his eyes for a moment, Adam drifted deep into sleep, needing it after the long day--the long years--of exhaustion and hurt.

Ronan stayed awake for quite a while. Beside Adam, watching him sleep. Studying the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. Adam had grown so much. Handsome, beautiful, lovely. Yet he was still young, the hands of a man still growing into them. Ronan loved them. Ronan loved him. Nothing else could compare; Kavinsky had tried to keep him, but it never matched up to the feelings he held for Adam.

Eventually Ronan dozed, comforted by Adam's presence. Yet he woke up first so that he could make breakfast. The old loft had a stove on which to cook in the corner, something that Ronan had been surprised to discover still worked, and rather than call for a maid to fetch breakfast Ronan just made it. Eggs he gathered, sautéed vegetables, and even coffee he had packed in his trunk. No need to bother any of them at the main house at all.

The smell of cooking food filled the Barns. Warm and rich coffee, sizzling eggs, and bright vegetables. Peppers, onions, corn. Ronan liked cooking, actually. It was calming. And he wanted to do something for Adam, too. Had anyone ever made breakfast for Adam before he woke? Ronan wasn't sure.

Adam woke warm and comfortable, to the smell of food, none of which made sense.

He sat up, blinking in the light, until he saw Ronan cooking at the stove and grinned. This was the life he wanted, and it was a very appealing sight, seeing Ronan cooking like that.

"I didn't know you could cook," he said, warm and fond, lightly teasing. The bed was warm and he didn't want to get up. Especially not with a view like this.

Ronan glanced over to where Adam was lounging in bed with a half-smirk before returning his attention to the stove.

"I learned. Lived by myself when I was away," he said as he mixed the vegetables together. "Didn't want to be totally useless forever, like Declan." It was an essential skill. Sure, he sucked at it at first, but he got better at it over time. Throwing things into a pan and swishing them around wasn't the hardest thing in the world.

"Want some?"

"Yes, please," Adam said, getting to his feet and smoothing down his rumpled clothing. He came over to Ronan, helping automatically, reaching for cups and plates. "I had the weirdest dream last night," he said, smiling as they worked together, natural and relaxed. Like they belonged together.

He stole glances at Ronan, entranced by how handsome he was, glad that he still looked healthy and strong. "I dreamed that you kissed me."

"That wasn't a dream," he said with an arched brow as he scraped their breakfast onto two plates. Kissing. They had kissed. It had felt like a dream, hadn't it? Ronan's lips tingled at the memory.

"I've had that dream before. Not as good." Taking two of the cups, he filled them with coffee and brought them over to the small table near the wall. Before he put his down on the table he took a healthy sip and licked his lips.

"Yeah," Adam said, following him to the table and setting down the plates. He reached for Ronan like he didn't expect him to be solid, curling his fingers around Ronan's sleeve like when he was a child, tagging along everywhere with Ronan. "Me too. You're better than any dream."

He smiled, because this was real, because Ronan had kissed him, Ronan loved him.

"You're going to make me blush," he shot back with a bit of an eye roll, though it wasn't a lie considering that his ears were pinking at the tips. Corny as it was, Ronan felt the same way. Adam, right here, right now, was better than any dream. Adam Parrish was his... well. He didn't really know quite how to call it, but it was more than friend. It had to be.

Reaching with his other hand, he settled his palm down on the back of the hand tugging at his sleeve. God, he loved it when Adam smiled. How long had it been since he'd seen that? Too long. The Adam he had returned to had been a ghost.

"Come on, you better eat all of this. I don't cook for just anyone."

Adam smiled a little more, knowing Ronan well enough to be delighted when he saw Ronan's ears turning rosy. "First promise that you'll never leave me again," Adam insisted, tugging at Ronan's sleeve. "And seal it with a kiss."

He stepped close, hooking his arms loosely around Ronan's waist. The intimacy made him nervous, and yet he craved it far too much to stop.

Ronan craved it too. No matter where he went, nowhere felt like home. That was because, as he was beginning to realize, home, for him, was not a place. Home was a person. Adam Parrish was the closest thing to home that Ronan Lynch had ever known. He tasted of memories and the future, of comfort, of love, of passion, of everything Ronan wanted and needed.

"I'll never leave you again," he promised, reaching up to brush some hair away from Adam's face. He couldn't leave Adam again. No. He'd die first.

And so he did as he was told, tilting his head and pressing his lips against Adam's.

Adam sighed into the kiss, finding this one much better, because he was no longer at war with himself, no longer torn between pride, duty, and love.

Ronan never lied, always kept his word, and Adam let himself trust that, let himself believe that Ronan was his forever. Even if it was impossible.

Smiling when the kiss broke, Adam nuzzled at him, then pulled away and sat down to eat. "This is pretty good," he said, surprised and not bothering to hide it.

It was better, when Adam wasn't crying and cursing at him. Even if Ronan was just as charmed when he was doing those things.

Each kiss they shared was precious. When the kiss broke, his lips felt afire, in the most pleasurable way. His second kiss. Still with Adam. With he had his way, all of his kisses would be with Adam. And all of Adam's kisses would be with him.

"What, you think I'd feed myself garbage? That was only the first six months." Ronan smirked and dropped into his own seat, helping himself to some more coffee. This was it. This was nice. The two of them, being grossly domestic. It was all Ronan had ever wanted.

"I know how to wash clothes, too."

"Yeah?" Adam asked, smiling fondly. He couldn't stop watching Ronan, now that he felt like he could, now that he had security that they were equals. "I'm proud of you."

He was, too. He was proud that Ronan knew how to cook and do some cleaning, that he wasn't like Declan, who couldn't even dress himself without a valet.

"You grew up nice," Adam said, quiet and just a little shy, grinning and dropping his eyes nervously as he thought about that glimpse he'd gotten of Ronan in the bath.

Proud of him. Ronan stilled a bit at that, closing his eyes and inhaling gently. Having someone be proud of him... that was a new feeling. An old feeling. Something he hadn't felt in a long time. Adam was proud of him. Even if it was for something as smile as cooking. Washing clothes.

The comment about him growing up nice had him blushing a bit. Grunting, he rubbed the back of his neck, looking away and then back to Adam.

"You too." Adam had blossomed even in ... well, Declan's damned house. There was a saying about that, wasn't there? The most beautiful flowers could bloom from cracks in concrete.

"We're both old now, huh?"

"Still young," Adam said. "Although you did rather promise that we'd grow old together. Could be a long time."

He took a bite, quiet briefly and then bursting out suddenly with, "I want to leave. Right now. Today."

Immediately feeling foolish, he dropped his eyes and fidgeted. "After breakfast. I don't want to stay here one minute longer than I have to. We can book a room at a hotel."

There was a note of utter desperation in his voice, of fear. He'd been trapped in this nightmare for most of his life, and his dream had finally returned. He wanted to escape with Ronan before the trap of his life fell shut around him.

Ronan almost spat out his coffee. Almost.

"Today?" he asked, incredulous. That was fast. Faster than fast. But looking at Adam, staring down as he sat in that chair, Ronan didn't really need to ask why. What they had could not be saved by the sanctuary of the Barns. Every second on Declan's property was a second where something could go wrong and pull them apart. Ronan didn't want that.

Rubbing his knuckles and chewing on his lip, Ronan considered. "I... guess we could. But I don't know about after breakfast; I still need to go through father's things, and then there's another matter that I'm supposed to handle. One of dad's old clients, Greenmantle, apparently wanted to talk to me. Not sure about what." Declan was supposed to set it up. That was another thing they would have covered yesterday had Ronan not dropped a few very powerful bombs on his brother.

"Think you'd be ready to go tonight?"

Adam was ready to go now. He wanted to run, as far and as fast as they could, until they could find a sanctuary where the world outside could never touch him.

The name Greenmantle made it all the worse.

He didn't know the name, not really, didn't know what it meant. But it itched at him, tingling in the back of his throat and fluttering in his heart, all threat. He'd heard the name before, in passing, but couldn't remember why or when. It was trouble, he was sure of it. The problem was, Adam had no reason for his feeling, and he felt utterly unreasonable in suggesting that they flee like criminals.

"Tonight is fine," he said, the words sticking in his mouth. "I'll pack your things. Do you want me to assist you in going through your father's possessions?"

"Please," he said, a smile creeping up on his lips. "Let's go through it together." They could share memories of his father, of their childhood, choosing the items to keep for their new home.

"And I'll help you pack. You don't have to do all the work." He was determined to treat Adam like his equal when, at the very least, they were alone. Why should Adam have to shoulder it all? Ronan wasn't helpless, and it wasn't the kind of relationship he wanted to have.

"I think he's coming by today, around lunch." Ronan shrugged. "Said he wants to meet me alone or something. Maybe he wants me to pick up my dad's work? I'm not going to, though. It's not for me." Trading and acquiring rare objects was not his thing even if he had a talent for it. It wasn't Declan's thing either, though he liked to pretend it was.

"After that, I'll have a hotel booked for us. Sound good?"

"Tell him to fuck off," Adam suggested. He got to his feet with a sigh, starting to tidy up the dishes. "That sounds good. Let's go through your dad's stuff first, we may want to pack some of it."

Restless and spooked for no reason he could put his finger on, Adam set down the plates and reached out for Ronan, hooking an arm around his waist and pulling him in close. He tilted his head up, taking a kiss to help reassure and calm himself.

Ronan thrilled in Adam reaching to kiss him. It was every dream he'd ever had. Every want. Having Adam and Adam wanting him back. It made him forget about weird old Greenmantle altogether; he kissed back, tilting his head and closing his eyes, feeling warmed in a way he hadn't felt in so long. Love. An incredible thing. Reaching up, he smoothed some of Adam's hair back, giving his partner a toothy grin once their kiss reached its end.

"I'll tell him to fuck off. Just for you." Breaking away, Ronan hopped over the ledge and slid down the ladder, making his way to the doors of the barn and peeking his head out to see if the box had been delivered. It had.

It was more of a trunk, really, and Ronan dragged it inside.

"It's probably mostly junk," he grunted, kicking it open, "because Declan would never give up anything worthwhile. Asshole."

Inside were a mix of things. A few rings Niall Lynch had favored, some old notes, odds and ends that had delighted the man. Some preserved roses that he had given Ronan's mother on their first meeting. An old jacket that he had loved.

Ronan tugged out something that caught his eye. A rosary, with red beads. His father's. He frowned and pressed the beads to his lips, closing his eyes.

"... Thought they buried him in these. Guess Declan fucked that up too."

Adam lost himself in the kiss, letting himself forget all the pain and indignation he'd suffered. None of that mattered anymore, and with Ronan kissing him, it was all too easy to let it melt away.

He felt adrift when Ronan let go, and he trailed dazedly after him, leaning over the ledge of the loft to see what he was doing--leaving. No, just getting the trunk.

Adam followed him down the ladder at a more sensible pace, hovering over him and watching him go through the trunk. He felt as though he was intruding, and didn't dare to touch anything in the trunk or even to get too close. This was Ronan's birthright. Adam was an outsider.

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