marlowemuses | I told myself that I'd stopped thinking of you...

I told myself that I'd stopped thinking of you...

Wherever Adam Parrish went, no matter where his ambition took him or how hard he fought to get what he wanted, everyone he met seemed to immediately know that he was poor. Even now that he had his law degree and a position as a junior member of a law firm, in his second-hand suit with the stain on the elbow, clients and coworkers alike treated him like he was a second-class citizen.

Adam kept his head down and worked hard, pulling twice the hours of anyone else on the staff. Whenever the rest of them went out to two-hour lunches and came back smashed and laughing, Adam stayed, and worked, and excelled, and they still only ever gave him the cases that no one else wanted. He'd been a "junior" member for two years longer than any of the other junior attorneys, with their shining smiles and their complete lack of student debt. But he still had a job, and every day he was grateful to be out of Henrietta and away from the hell of his childhood. It was fine. It was his life, and one day, somehow, somehow, he would finally belong in it.

Or, at least, that was what he told himself, until the day that the Ganseys walked in through the doors of the law firm. The whole family, golden and laughing, with their impossibly easy companionship, and Adam almost didn't recognize them until he heard Gansey laugh.

Making a sharp right turn down a side hallway before they could see him, Adam ducked into the men's bathroom. It was the only place with proper walls in the gleaming glass and chrome office. The only place he could hide.

They were probably here on something mundane and glorious, seeking new legal representation--or had Adam always been working for their lawyers and he'd been so oblivious that he'd simply never seen their name on the list of clients on retainer?--to fix a minor legal loophole keeping them from some new golf course.

Adam's head spun, remembering and regretting everything about his friendship with Gansey, all the fights, and the last one most of all. He wished he could take back everything he'd said.

But he couldn't, and it wouldn't matter. Gansey's life was no doubt better without him in it. He was probably married by now. Maybe he'd even married Blue.

Adam had just resigned himself, yet again, to the fact that he was out of Gansey's life forever, when Richard Gansey III walked through the bathroom door. Caught standing in plain sight by the sinks, Adam froze, staring at Gansey and praying that his old friend wouldn't recognize him.

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Adam waves a dismissive hand at himself. "Quod vides."

What is he supposed to say? How is he? Shitty. Triumphant. Exhausted. Lonely. The only good thing in his life is Ronan, and as much as he loves Ronan, no one should be sentenced to having to say that.

He tilts his head against the window, feeling the rattle that goes through the whole machine. It rattles him to his bones. The sensation is more satisfying than he can put into words. He missed this. He missed so many things about this. His hondoyota doesn't generally get above forty miles per hour without starting to shake apart.

Gansey shifts gears, steady on fifth as they break away from the general flow of traffic, wide open road in front of them. The engine dampens enough of his thoughts to be able to focus on driving but manage a sideways glance at Adam.

There's a lot he wants to say.

You've hurt me more than anyone else ever has. Despite that I still miss you. Sitting here next to you, I somehow miss you even more. Can it ever go back to the way it was?

But Gansey's not even sure he wants it back to the way it was. Especially since Adam expressed how he felt about how things were back then.

It's been such a long time since latin has pricked at his ears, it takes a few seconds longer than usual to process it.

"You've obviously been busy over the past few years." He's treading carefully, not wanting to set Adam off. He has no idea what will set Adam off now. Gansey is completely blind in this situation.

Adam shrugs. He doesn't want to talk about his own life. "Law school," he confirms, even though it seems to him that should be self-evident. Working two jobs to put himself through law school and yet he's still mired in debt.

"What about you?" Adam's gaze flicks over, checking Gansey's left hand for a ring. He doesn't see one. His heart thuds at that, surprised but grateful. He's never considered, before this moment, just how awful it would be to find that Gansey was married. "Are you and Blue...?"

There's a small wry smile--his eyes remain on the road and as though Gansey could hear his thoughts, he thumbs at the ring finger on his left hand.

"No. We...went our separate ways." Of course, ever the diplomat. As devastating as losing Adam was, losing Blue took a while to get over. It was on amiable terms but ever since then, he's wondered what he could have done to be better, do better, change so that the people that he cared about most in the world didn't leave him. He's found it difficult to date after her. He's fairly certain he still loves her.

Adam nods, because he understands that. It doesn't surprise him, either. Gansey and Blue clearly cared for each other, but it was difficult to imagine a future where their paths converged. Adam imagined that Blue was off somewhere fighting injustice and saving endangered species. He couldn't imagine Gansey doing either. Not for lack of earnestness, but simply because that kind of sustained conflict wasn't anywhere in Gansey's nature.

"Ronan and I..." Adam begins, but finds that he doesn't know how to put it into words. We're in love. We're together. We're not together. I haven't spoken to him in three months. "Has he told you?"

Gansey still talks to Blue once in a while but it always leaves him feeling torn apart inside but thrilled at the same time. Like his insides have been ripped up but glued back together.

On the subject of Ronan and Adam though...

"More or less." Because Ronan hates being reminded that his not-boyfriend and his best friend are not on speaking terms. He doesn't talk about Adam too often but he's dropped a few hints. He knows they're not officially together.

That knowledge shouldn't give him as much hope as it does.

Words crowd Adam's tongue, but none of them are right. None of them are adequate. It's a complicated situation, and there aren't words to explain it. It doesn't make sense to anyone but him and Ronan, and it barely makes sense to them.

"Is there someone else?" Adam asks. Gansey hadn't specified. It seems wrong that someone as handsome and charming as Gansey could be alone all this time. The thought that Gansey is alone--lonely--makes Adam's gut ache. He can't decide if it's better or worse than the thought of Gansey with some new, unknown girlfriend.

His eyes are still fixed on the road ahead, nothing but green Virginia rolling hills for miles around with the occasional decrepit barn dotting the landscape.

Such a natural question that Gansey shouldn't be as thrown off as he is.

"No," he replies, a small smile here. The Richard Campbell Gansey III mask is slipping on and he's powerless to stop it in an effort to defend his own heart from this spotlight on his loneliness.

"I've travelled around for college. Europe. Recently became a professor. I haven't really met anyone yet." Or tried, but Adam doesn't necessarily need to know that.

A line forms between Adam's brows. There's something there. Something he's missing, in the gap between Gansey and Richard, that momentary smile that's all wrong. Adam's attention pulls toward him, studying Gansey in profile as they drive.

He takes in the words, but they're not really what interests him. They're not being told to him by his Gansey. They're just words, noise that the other Gansey is using to fill the space.

But Adam doesn't have any other tool to get past them and get back to the Gansey he knows. "Professor for what?" he asks, though he already has a pretty good guess. The words come out like a challenge, though they aren't the real challenge. They aren't the real question.

Gansey can feel the eyes on him. He knows now when Adam's eyes are on him.

"Medieval European history with a special focus on Great Britain," he replies unabashedly, that flicker of "Gansey, the gistory nerd" coming through. Despite being an expert in the subject, there was no one that really knew about how earnest he became about the subject except Ronan, Adam and Blue.

Adam rolls his eyes, because it's exactly what he expects. What a fucking nerd.

He looks away again, because it hurts. He's in love with Gansey. There's no getting around that. Maybe he's built Gansey up in his mind, idealized Gansey's flaws and forgotten the edges of their fights, but it's hard to credit that theory when Gansey is everything that he remembers.

Maybe even more than Adam remembers. More handsome, more commanding, more absurdly irresistible.

At a loss for words, he just watches the scenery go by. He doesn't ever want Gansey to stop. As long as they're just driving like this, it's easier to pretend.

Besides, he kind of likes the idea of Gansey kidnapping him.

Gansey is not particularly inclined to stop either. It's as though the two of them have stepped into their own bubble of time, nothing else in the world mattering on the outside.

"I coyld almost hear you roll your eyes. Did you think I'd go a different path?" And there's a genuine half smile on his face.q

"No?" Adam scoffs, and the question in his voice is what other possible path could there have been for you?

Others might have expected Gansey the politician, but Adam had never for a minute believed that it would happen. Gansey was only ever going to be a king if the earth parted and Camelot presented itself as his rightful inheritance. Which, around Gansey, seemed pretty plausible.

"Thought you'd be married with like six children by now," Adam says, sliding down in his seat and staring up at the roof of the Camaro, keeping his tone flat to make it seem more like the joke it was supposed to be. And not like Adam's worst nightmare. "Fat children. Disgustingly cherubic."

He can't resist grinning a tiny bit at the mental image. Gansey surrounded by fat cherubs.

The thought actually causes laughter to bubble up and out before he can catch himself. He hasn't laughed like this in a long time.

"Why six and why fat?" he asks, giving Adam a sidelong glance as he pulls off at an exit that doesn't seem to have anything in particular around.

Adam huffs, chewing at his lower lip to try to contain the grin that's threatening to escape. He just said it off the top of his head. It means nothing.

"Because you don't do anything by halves," Adam says, thinking of the cardboard Henrietta, of their summers spent chasing Glendower, of how Gansey saved them all, in his own way, because without him they would all have destroyed themselves.

The echo of Gansey's laugh spins around and around in his head, replaying infinitely. Gansey's laugh is warm and golden, and the fact that it's just for him makes Adam's heart glow.

They've pulled off the highway in the middle of nowhere. Adam's brows tug just slightly, wondering where Gansey's brought him and why.

There's another snort of laughter at Adam's reply.

"Sorry to disappoint."

They drive a little ways until they get to a sideroad on the edge of a cliff, small piece of it jutting out. Gansey parks right here and hops out of the driver's seat, coming around to lean near where the backseat on the passenger side is. He's facing into the sunset, brilliant pinks and oranges splashed across the sky.

There's more than enough room for Adam to get out.

Adam's not sure why they're here, at this pit stop to nothing in particular. He gets out as well, shuts the door behind him, sighs, reopens it, and slams it properly.

Then he leans against the car beside Gansey. Arms crossed and eyes averted, he looks down into the valley rather than up at the sunset. His heart is pounding, and he aches with longing for how much he has missed Gansey.

He doesn't know what to say.

Fixing that door on the Pig has never really been a priority but there's a small quirk of a smile at the re-slam.

"You said 'anywhere but there'. Favorite spot of mine," he murmurs as he keeps his eyes looking skyward, glare reflecting off his glasses.

There's a long stretch of silence between them and he knows Adam is as distracted as he is. The reason why is elusive to him.

"I've been wondering how you've been," he says offhandedly, a statement to be addressed or not, whichever Adam chooses.

"I know," Adam says, sliding his hands down into his pockets instead. "I don't have any better answer for you than I did the last two times you asked. I'm tired. My boss is an awful person and even though I've been looking, I haven't been able to get myself hired at any other firms. I haven't spoken to my not-boyfriend in three months because every time we get together it wrecks us both. What the fuck else am I supposed to say?"

His tone gets more heated at the end than he means, and he slams his fist back against the door of the Pig, not hard enough to damage either himself or the car, because Adam can't let go of enough control to actually damage anything, ever. Except for the hearts of anyone stupid enough to care about him.

"Can you stop asking now?" Adam asks with a sigh.

Gansey raises both his eyebrows as he turns towards Adam, the heat in his voice catching him off guard. There's a small wince when he both hears and feels the pound on his car.

"I don't think I'll ever stop asking. Or wondering," he replies truthfully. Depending on the circumstance. Depending on how this meeting goes. He could blow it all sky-high yet, if he hasn't already.

He doesn't get Gansey's determination. He certainly doesn't know what to do with it.

I'm doing shitty. Really shitty.

"I'm doing great, Gansey," he says, with too much bitterness in his voice to make it convincing. "I'm a lawyer and I'm only working one job. On Sundays I sleep in. I make just enough to occasionally afford food other than ramen, after making my student loan payments."

Adam feels utterly trapped. He pushes away from the car, paces a tight half-circle, and braces his arms against the top of the car. "Is this what you wanted? Tourist stop through Adam Parrish's shitty life? God, look at the less-fortunates. Aren't they sad? Go take bread to some third-world country, Gansey. It's less sadistic."

That gets an even more visceral wince from him. His heart shoots into his throat. How? What did he say? How had he screwed up this badly already? He listens as Adam's rant spirals, re-opening those old wounds he thought had healed over long ago.

He steps away from the Pig to fully face Adam, hurt pulling at the furrow of his brow.

"Is it really that hard to imagine me genuinely wondering how an old friend is doing?" His voice is calm but there's a bite to it--disbelief at how cold those words felt to him.

Everything Adam wants to throw at him would just make everything worse. How is he fighting with Gansey again, already? Why can he only ever hurt the people he cares about?

Adam lets his head hang forward, closing his eyes and focusing on breathing. He will not lash out at Gansey. He will not. "No, Gansey. It's fine."

His voice sounds like it's coming from someone else. He flattens all of his emotions so that none of them will cut Gansey, who doesn't deserve to be friends with a box of knives.

"Did you want to talk about anything other than my least favorite question, or do we want to go over that one another four times?"

Gansey leans back against the Pig, staring heavenward. He removes his glasses to rub at his eyes. How could this have happened already? How had they gotten to this point that a simple inquiry sets Adam off? He replaces his glasses.

"I'm sorry," he mutters in Adam's general direction, looking down at his khakis paired with loafers. "We can talk about other things."

Of course, now he's casting about something to ask about. It's not his usual but Adam's thrown him off his usual game. Adam always did that. He never played by Gansey's scripts that he used on others.

"Where are you living nowadays?"

He bans 'how are you' and Gansey decides to just go around it and ask all the piecemeal parts of the question. Fine. Great.

"An apartment," Adam answers. "Like twenty minutes back the way we came from. I'm not being difficult, there's just nothing to say about the apartment. Or any other part of my life."

If Gansey's not going to let it go, then Adam's just going to have to try to force a topic change. "What are you chasing these days? I think the Holy Grail is a perennial favorite."

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