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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It was a spell. One only Adam could cast, could command. Stepping forward when Adam stepped back, he nodded, slowly, unable to look away from Adam's face. Fuck everything else. They didn't owe anyone here anything. Fuck Adam's parents, fuck Declan, fuck all the maids and servants that turned a blind eye to abuse and cruelty.

"Okay," Ronan exhaled, feeling ... excited. Amazed. Sure, he fucked off himself before, but he never ran off with... someone. With Adam. With the person he loved before he even realized what the butterflies darting in his belly even meant.

"Okay."

And god, he wanted to embrace him. Hold tight, touch him, love him. But if they were going to leave before anyone noticed, they didn't have time for that.

"Let's go."

Adam nodded quickly, letting go. "Are you going to take the trunk?" he asked, nodding toward it and then heading for the ladder. He packed his own things first, so that he wouldn't have to worry about them. There wasn't much to be packed, so it went quickly. He loaded them all into a corner of one of Ronan's bags, since he had none of his own, and then started packing Ronan's things. He focused on necessities and personal items, since the could send for the rest or acquire new things later. What was important was taking the things that couldn't be left in Declan's hands.

Adam's heart was fluttering with adrenaline and excitement, terrified that Declan would find a way to take this from them, or that Adam's father would stop them.

Ronan stood before the trunk. The things looked back at him, sadly. They were all truly personal items, things that probably only matter to Niall and no one else. Logically, he knew he didn't need any of it.

"Yeah," he choked out, eyes a bit wet. Blinking, kicked it closed and made for the ladder, climbing up so that he could help Adam pack. He hadn't been at the estate for nearly as long as he'd expected. Fuck, it'd barely been a week, so a good deal of his things hadn't even been fully unpacked yet. Better for leaving quickly.

"How should we go?" he asked, locking a piece of luggage. "Coach? Someone will notice that."

"So let them notice," Adam argued. "Someone's going to notice anyway, soon enough. If we're taking even half your things, we can't truly sneak out. Especially not with the trunk. The trick is seeming confident enough and urgent enough that by the time they realize our orders are contrary to Declan's, we'll be long gone."

Adam worked with him, handing over items and helping him to latch cases, and then handing bags down the ladder to him. "I'll finish up," Adam said, batting him away from one last bag. "Go tell them to prepare a coach, and acquisition a footman or two to help us carry that trunk. Confident. Urgent. Okay?"

Meeting Ronan's eyes, Adam leaned up for a quick kiss, trying not to let himself be overcome with worry.

Adam had always been good with plans. Better than Ronan, who often let his emotions stray him from pragmatism. The kiss soothed him and he set his jaw, giving a nod. Ronan trusted Adam to lead him, for him to be the master here.

"Got it." Leaning forward, he stole one last brief, lingering kiss, before he spun and took off, walking with purpose. It wasn't difficult to make it seem like he had something to do; he had a resting bitch face, and none of them wanted to question or argue with him while he was snapping his teeth together like an angry dog.

It was quick work. The coach was prepared and the footman came to help Ronan grab the trunk; he was strong enough that they didn't need another. They loaded it in and Ronan wiped his hands on his coat, looking about, just in case Delcan came striding down from the main house for some reason.

"A hotel, then?" They could head straight for the country estate but he wasn't sure if that was what Adam had in mind.

Adam nodded, giving directions to the coachman. Their destination would get back to Declan, but that was unavoidable. They were going to a respectable hotel, and they were no longer bound to Declan.

Climbing into the coach alongside Ronan, Adam gave him a fleeting, nervous smile as the coach lurched and started to move away from the house. He couldn't help but watch Declan's house, heart pounding with fear that Declan or Robert Parrish would appear and drag them back.

But Declan Lynch did not come out. Nor did Robert Parrish.

Ronan didn't realize he was holding his breath until the mansion was out of sight. Exhaling heavily, he leaned back into the seat, looking squarely at Adam. His future. How many times had he thought about how he didn't have one? How it all seemed like a stretch of darkness. Now, there were stars.

Fuck. He wanted to hold Adam. Not wanting to be too clingy, he settled on picking at his nails instead, keeping his hands busy.

"No one you wanted to say goodbye to?" Ronan had been out of the house long enough that most of the staff had completely changed. Adam, on the other hand, had spent his entire life in that house. Even though Ronan knew the answer in his heart... he didn't want to believe that Adam had been completely lonely there. Maybe there'd been someone kind that would be happy to see Adam finally leaving that cold place.

"No," Adam said.

He might have liked to say goodbye to his mother, in the hopes that she would be at least a little bit sad to see him gone, but he didn't trust that she wouldn't immediately betray him. It wasn't worth the risk. There was no one else. A chambermaid had once been kind to him for a few weeks, sharing sweets with him and saving him a place at the servants' table, until she realized that he wanted only a friend, and had no interest in taking a wife.

After that, she'd been cold and cruel as the rest of them. More so, sometimes.

Adam rested his knee against Ronan's across the coach, desperate for reassurance. Ronan had always been the center of his world, and now he was the only thing in Adam's world. If anything happened to Ronan, Adam would have nowhere to go, and nothing to protect him.

Reaching out, Ronan combed his fingers through Adam's hair with care. Gently scratched his nails against his lover's scalp. There was so much he wanted to give Adam, to erase those pains of the past, but he wasn't quite sure how. Sure, moving to the country estate would ease him, but right now? Adam was nervous and Ronan could see it. It was palpable, slicking his tongue and making his heart ache.

"Adam," he said, softly, as the carriage briskly made its way to the hotel. Sliding his hand down, Ronan trailed his fingers along the side of Adam's head, against his jaw.

"I love you."

Bowing his head, he pressed a kiss to the top of Adam's.

Adam leaned into the touch, letting his head fall forward as he absorbed every drop of contact and affection.

"No one's ever said that to me before," Adam said, heart aching. A tear slipped from his eye, skidding down his cheek.

Brushing it away, Adam shook his head. There was no time for this. No privacy.

"When we get there, ask for a room with one bed. A closet for your valet will be sufficient. They don't need to know we're sharing the bed, and I can't pass for anything but a valet dressed like this."

Adam took a deep breath to steady himself, drawing his head up. "We can see to my wardrobe tomorrow, to remake me into your partner."

No privacy, perhaps, but Ronan didn't care. He traced his fingers along Adam's cheek, trying to comfort the other man. No one's ever said that to me before. Ronan knows he's telling the truth. Even if his father had died, Niall Lynch had still loved him, and told him so nearly every day. So had his mother. Even Declan... they punched each other, but at the end of the day, they were still brothers. No one was allowed to beat on a Lynch other than a Lynch.

Frowning, he threaded his fingers through Adam's hair again, trying to soothe him. "Okay." Even if he hated even pretending that Adam was going to sleep in the closet, he wasn't going to argue.

The carriage drew up to the hotel and Ronan got out, doing as Adam bid him, selecting a room with one bed. The clerk didn't seem to care a lick of his "valet" slept on the floor. They were lead to their room and Ronan was given the key with the promise that the staff would take care of their coach and luggage. Ronan shrugged, closed the door, and then sighed with relief.

"I didn't realize how much being back home bothered me," he admitted, looking out the window. "I feel better here."

As soon as they were alone, Adam slid into Ronan's arms, pulling him close and kissing him feverishly. He was starved, for Ronan, for affection, and now that they had a moment to breathe, Adam wanted to seize every second of it.

There was a light rap at the door, and Adam detached, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and drawing himself up with his usual dignity as a valet. He answered the door, directing the staff as to where to set their things, and insisting that he would unpack everything himself.

When they had gone, Adam locked the door behind them, leaning back against it and closing his eyes. His heart was fluttering with nervous disbelief. He was free. He was safe.

"Fuck," he cursed when the knock hit the door, forcing them apart. He wanted Adam—to comfort him, to love him, anything and everything at all. Which was why he was silent as the men brought in the luggage, silent and watching with narrowed eyes until they were gone.

There. The door was locked, the luggage was brought. No one should bother them for the rest of the night. Ronan went to Adam then, reaching out for that tired man and pulling him gently against him, offering him the support he'd been using the door for.

"It's done," he said, tightening his embrace. "Are you tired? We can call it a night."

"It's still early," Adam said. He leaned into Ronan's arms, accepting the support, the comfort, the protection, the love. His fingertips trailed lace patterns against Ronan's shoulder, light against the strength and breadth of Ronan's muscles.

"I'm hungry," Adam said, though he didn't want to leave Ronan's arms. He could subsist on love.

Nuzzling idly at Ronan's throat, he pillowed his head on Ronan's shoulder. He was tired. Years of going without sleep had drained him, and his body seemed to want to catch up all at once. Yet it was the emotional fatigue that he felt now, more than anything. He'd planned to visit the tailor early tomorrow, the hatmaker, the glovemaker, a cobbler. A wardrobe for himself, so that he could walk unquestioned at Ronan's side. A companion, status unknown. People would wonder which of them was the lord, and which the companion, since Adam had the alacrity of a valet and Ronan the brawn of a footman. People would wonder if they were cousins--not brothers, not with the differences in their coloring, the differences in their forms--or merely friends. Schoolmates. College companions. A pair of bachelors who went everywhere together.

Now, right now, Adam wanted to stay here forever. They could sleep in tomorrow. They were safe here, though they could be safer. As soon as they could, they'd hire a coach, and slip away from the city to some hotel on the outskirts. And then from there to another, and another, until they could both feel confident that Declan had lost the trail.

It didn't matter so much that Declan had claws into the country house. They could avoid it, if they wanted, or make it their own and uproot all the spies. It didn't matter if they stayed in England or traveled. It would be better now. Adam would keep Ronan safe. No more fights, no more self-destructive urges. The person most likely to hurt Ronan was Ronan, and Adam couldn't bear for Ronan to be hurt.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, fingertips continuing to weave his net onto Ronan's shoulder. "We can go down to the hotel restaurant."

It was like when he had gone off on his own, the first time. At first it had been freeing. No hands wrapped around his neck, no ghosts plaguing his dreams. The nightmares had gone away. Only this time he had the most important thing with him—the person that he had left behind the first time. As Adam leaned against him, he kept his arms tight, resting his chin and staring at the wall. It was the biggest mistake of his life, leaving behind this precious person. Adam loved him. He loved Adam. If they had run away together the first time, where would they be now?

It didn't matter. They'd make their new life together. He'd give Adam all the things he deserved. Food, clothing, love. No more worn and tattered rags that barely kept him warm on cold winter nights. Brothers in arms, people would call them. Yet they would always share a bedroom, and a bed.

Adam's fingers were distracting, soothing. Exhaling, he buried his face a little more. Yes, he was hungry. No, he didn't want to go down to the hotel restaurant. He was tired of being around people that weren't Adam.

"I don't want to be around other people," he admitted, still steadily breathing in Adam's scent, "but I could eat, yeah." It was early, and he wasn't tired, merely concerned that Adam might be too wiped from the emotional whiplash.

"Wine would be good." Something to take the edge of the day off. Stepping back, he cups Adam's face in his hands before dropping them. "Let's take it easy, all right? We don't have to rush." Even if Declan knew where they were, it would be too embarrassing to chase after them through town. Ronan knew his brother well; he would send an angry letter at best.

Adam nodded, which meant rubbing his cheek against Ronan's shoulder. "We still have to leave the room for wine. We could just step out and ask one of the staff members to bring us some dinner and wine."

Smiling as he relaxed a little, Adam tipped his head to kiss Ronan's adam's apple. "We can lounge in bed and eat. And drink. And kiss."

And fuck, he thought, though he wasn't entirely sure if Ronan desired him physically, if he wanted a corporal relationship at all. He thought so, hoped so, but didn't want to assume, or to inflict his own desires upon Ronan.

Ronan grinned at Adam's suggestions. Food, wine, and kissing Adam? Sounded like a home run. The idea of fucking did cross his mind, very heavily, but he was likewise unsure of how sexual Adam's feelings for him were. Ronan had spent most nights jerking off thinking about Adam; it felt almost impossible that Adam would have done anything like that. Then again, until earlier, it had felt impossible that Adam could love him.

The kiss to his adam's apple made him shiver. Arousal spiked, and he wasn't even sure what to do with it—he'd never been with anyone, being so hung up over Adam along with the fact that he was interested in men only didn't garner him much experience. Distracted by the way his cock twitched, he swallowed, nodding and stepping away from his lover to ring for the maid.

He requested a good wine and warm bread, cheese, and meat. And when the maid turned and left to fetch their dinner, he closed the door and sat on the edge of the bed, looking at Adam and opening his arms, wanting to hold him again. It was something he could never get enough of.

Adam sat beside him, curling one arm around Ronan's head so that when he fell back onto the mattress, he pulled Ronan down with him.

Tangling close, he tucked his head against Ronan's throat again, winding their legs together and clinging to him. Ronan was his. He'd always known that Ronan was his, always intended it, but he hadn't ever really believed it to be true.

He held Ronan close, focused on Ronan's breath and heartbeat, until a rap at the door made him pull away, standing upright and to one side, eyes averted like an obedient valet.

It was a time of pure bliss.

Tangled together with Adam. Hearing his heart beat, the soft sound of his breath, legs pressed close like they were one living thing. It was the most comfort Ronan had felt in years; he closed his eyes in it, sliding his arm around Adam's waist to pull him in tighter.

So when the knock at the door came and Adam was out of his arms, he cursed under his breath, feeling like something important had been torn away.

Ronan stood. It was a quick exchange; he was curt, taking in the tray of food and bottle of wine, silently tipped the maid, and then closed the door and locked it behind her.

She didn't deserve the attitude, especially since she had done a good job in setting up their dinner. The bread was clearly freshly baked and smelled heavenly. The cheeses were cleanly sliced and arranged to be aesthetically pleasing, and there was such an array of died meats that she clearly had to go out of her way to do it. But Ronan didn't care. He'd been in Adam's arms and she distracted from that.

Popping the cork on the bottle, he poured two glasses of wine, and took a swing of his. It was dry, a little sweet, and felt good going down his throat.

Adam sat again on the side of the bed, hauling off his boots and tucking them under the bed. He stripped down to his undershirt and drawers, going over to the fireplace and banking it up so that he wouldn't get cold.

Then he accepted the glass of wine and sat down on the bed, curling his knees up to his chest. "Can we eat in bed?" he asked, sipping at the wine. The liquid was soothing, partly from the luxury of it and partly from the way that the alcohol fuzzed at the edges of his senses, effecting him almost immediately on his empty stomach.

"Yeah," Ronan nodded, grabbing the tray and sliding into bed next to Adam. He had seen the man in his undershirt and drawers before, but like this... he was very aware that Adam Parrish was in his undershirt and drawers. And what was under even that.

He took another swig of wine and let that fuzzy, warm feeling ebb over him. The most he'd kicked off were his shoes and the jacket from before, remaining otherwise dressed, for now. Idly, he imagined Adam's hands on him, sliding underneath his shirt or undoing his pants...

Flushing, he took a bite of bread and licked the crumbs from his fingers.

"I was thinking," he said, softly, "that we should get you a horse. If you think you'd like to try raising one."

Adam nestled close to him, resting his head on Ronan's shoulder and pulling Ronan's arm around his waist for warmth. Nodding dazedly in response, Adam picked at the food, most interested in the wine. When the room started spinning, he let Ronan take his goblet, nibbling at the food until he drifted off against Ronan's shoulders, utterly exhausted by the emotional intensity of the past few days.

"Okay," he murmured, putting the goblet aside and putting his with it once he'd drained it of all its wine.

And he settled down onto the bed nicely, stroking Adam's hair with his fingers when the man fell against his shoulder. It took Ronan a very long time to sleep, even with the wine buzzing in his system; he was content to listen to Adam's breath, the thud of his heartbeat in a silent room, before he finally managed to close his eyes.

It had been a rough few days. At last, they could rest.

Adam pressed close against him, asleep but still in desperate need of warmth and love. He shifted, arms hugging around Ronan's waist, refusing to loosen his grip as he clung to his beloved.

When he woke, it was hazy twilight, and Adam couldn't tell if it was night or morning. He felt dizzy and disoriented, in a strange bed, a strange place, somewhere between rested and exhausted. Ronan was the only surety, the center of his universe as always. Sighing deeply, Adam lifted his head, studying Ronan's face as his heart thudded with need and disbelief.

Ronan continued to dream, having only managed to finally fall asleep a few hours ago. In his dreams he saw his father, saw his mother, saw Adam. Twisting phantoms and ghosts, a gentle smile and smooth hands. In the dream, Adam traced along his tattoo and kissed it. It was innocent yet so very sexual at the same time, making Ronan shiver and close his eyes, melting into every touch the dreamed Adam gave him.

When he finally did crack his eyes open, it was because his mouth was dry and he was in need of water.

"Mm...?" He murmured lightly, still a bit out of it, glancing over at Adam.

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