marlowemuses | Written in the Stars

"No," Adam agrees. He didn't have any problem with Ronan hitting the fighter. He'd enjoyed watching it, on some level. He's not sure if this indicates that he's a sadist, or simply that the fighter deserved it, or that liked seeing Ronan win, or that he's inured to violence.

"I appreciate the offer," he says, which means no but more politely and also more inescapably, and Adam wonders when he learned how to use politeness like that, because he's never been confident enough to try it before.

Ronan wasn't letting it go that easily. Not the offer to fight, per se, but the reason behind it.

"What's the difference?" he asked, more curious than anything but his words always came out a bit too harsh. That was just the way he talked. But by now, Adam had probably figured that out.

He stretched his hand to loosen it up and test out the muscles. Now that the adrenaline was fading, he could feel out how much pain there'd be later. He should be fine though he would have taken worse for the satisfaction of punching that guy's face in.

"I said no," Adam says, anger flaring when Ronan presses him on this, because he's not ready to give up that confession and all the layers of damage and pain that lies beneath it. He rose, wanting the additional emotional defense of being on his feet if he was going to get into a quarrel. "The difference is, fuck off."

It was a good thing that Ronan had already loosed his aggression on the fighter and the adrenaline had now faded. Exhaustion meant he was too tired to escalate this to the level he normal might have. Not physical, not with Adam, but there were times he could use his words as well as his fists.

"I'm not gonna make you. Not my fault you can't handle a question. Chill the fuck out." Brushing off Adam's display, he walked over the bathroom to run his hand under cool water.

Adam settled back onto the bed, snatching up his device and taking shelter in his studies. His heart ached, bristling with defensiveness, and Adam pushed down the feelings and ignored it.

Everyone was more careful around him the next day. Fighters gave him a wide berth and everyone was careful not to touch Adam. There were no shoves or ass swats, and the relief of it buoyed Adam as he went about his duties.

All the same, it was a relief to return to his quarters to meet Ronan. "Everyone keeps asking me if we're a couple," he said, sinking down on the bed and closing his eyes for a moment.

Ronan was still revved from his time training. He placed his hands on the wall and did some more stretches to cool down. With one hand bent in front of him and the other stretched out behind him, he didn't think about how his ass was even more prominent for a moment as he shifted his weight to go back to standing.

Good thing Adam wasn't watching, especially since Ronan was so startled he almost choked.

"What?" He looked over his shoulder then turned away from the wall and faced Adam. "Why would they?"

Was he staring at Adam too much? God damn it.

Adam opens one eye. He hadn't expected this to be a surprise for Ronan, but evidently it is. "We spend all our time together. You beat someone up for touching me." There are other reasons that Adam chooses not to mention. Neither of them have shown any interest in anyone else. Adam's more relaxed around Ronan than he is around anyone else, and people are noticing it.

He opens his other eye, attention straying down the length of Ronan's form. The fighter uniforms are flattering, even when--especially when--they're worn disheveled or partially removed, the way the fighters wear them when training.

Adam acknowledges to himself that he's been noticing how good the fighters look in their uniforms. Especially Ronan.

"Yeah," Ronan said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world to beat someone up for touching Adam. He liked to think that even if Adam was some stranger, he would have done the same. "How does that make us a couple?"

As he spoke, Ronan went over their past interactions as well as any time he might have accidentally checked someone out. Was he that obvious?

Adam's brow furrows, because Ronan's still confused. It's a little bit cute that Ronan's so oblivious. It seems obvious to him that people would be making this assumption, and he doesn't mind it. Sitting forward, Adam considers him, trying to decide whether or not it would be insulting to Ronan to piece it out for him on the simplest possible level.

"Everyone's pairing off," Adam explains, choosing a medium level on which to explain this. "This whole place has a heirarchy based on sex and dominance. I was getting bullied because people saw me as unclaimed. Now that people know you're protecting me and that you lose your shit when anyone touches me, they think we're fucking."

Ronan's cheeks turned pink and not just from exercise. "Oh." Looking back, that was the sort of thing he should have noticed sooner. Now the distaste for the situation took over. A whole hierarchy based on who you slept with? "That's fucked."

He paused. If they were back home and he cared about being available, not that he really had, he wouldn't propose this. But if it was keeping Adam safe... "Sounds like we should let them keep thinking we're-- you know."

Adam nods his agreement, watching Ronan's face closely. He doesn't mind this situation in the least, but he doesn't want Ronan to be kept from pursuing any actual romantic interests he might have. "When they asked, I told them it was our business."

It's to Adam's advantage that everyone thinks he's with Ronan, and since he can't see anyone wanting him and he doesn't feel any strong romantic inclinations, there are no disadvantages for Adam.

Even Ronan knew how they would take that answer. He gave Adam a look that clearly said "bullshit."

Then, instead of protesting, he said, "alright." He leaned back against the wall. "You're the only decent guy here anyway."

Ronan didn't care about romance with anyone else. He knew better than to expect anything serious from Adam. This was all convenience for him. As romantic as Ronan was, this didn't violate his standards. Pretending to be with someone was alright if it meant saving them from harassment and worse.

Adam was surprised at that, even though he knew that they both preferred each other's company to anyone else on the ship.

"Alright," he echoed, eyes lingering on Ronan for a moment longer before he went to go take a shower.

Days passed easier now that no one bothered Adam anymore, and it was easy to fall into a routine with Ronan. Adam confirmed their schedules every morning and they met for training or dinner every evening.

When Ronan had an evening shift that prevented dinner, Adam felt a pang of disappointment. Dinner time came and went, and he stayed at his station, working on decoding an urgent communication even though his own shift had ended. Without a deadline to remind him to return for dinner or training, Adam just... kept working, alone in the comms room.

Ronan had been dreaming of a hot shower followed by collapsing in bed while Adam studied like the nerd he was. Instead all he got when he stepped inside their quarters was another adrenaline surge.

Sure, there could be other reasons for Adam being gone, but Ronan hadn't forgotten their conversation from before. What if the assumption that they were in a relationship wasn't enough anymore?

By the time Ronan get to Adam's station, he was ready to fight.

"Adam! Where--" Seeing Adam suddenly, he had trouble processing the abrupt shift in emotions. His voice had an easier time going from panicked to pissed. "Jesus Christ! You could've left a fucking note."

Surprised and confused when Ronan burst into the comms room in a panicked rage, Adam stared at him for a moment, trying to put together what was going on. There weren't any ship-wide alerts going off, and Adam had yet to see Ronan care about anything enough to get him this worked up. Nothing clicked, even though Ronan seemed to expect something of him. "A note about what?"

Ronan ran his hand over his head to keep himself from shaking. He paced to release the excess of energy now that he had no reason to use it. God, he was never going to be able to sleep tonight.

"That you weren't going to be in our room, asshole," he snapped but his voice was returning back to normal, at least in volume.

It took a couple of extra seconds--had Ronan wanted the room alone for some reason--before everything clicked. Ronan hadn't known where he was, and had been worried for him.

"I've been here," he said, logging out of his station with a couple of keystrokes and then standing up. He stayed where he was, careful. He'd never had Ronan's temper turned toward him before, though he had some idea of what Ronan's temper could do. So he just stayed quiet, careful not to provoke.

"Yeah, I can see that." Ronan finally stopped pacing. The anger was contained once more although it still waited to bubble up to the surface before spilling over. It'd have to wait for another time.

He took a heavy breath to release whatever tension he could. "If you're done, let's get the hell out of here."

Adam nodded and went to him, walking by Ronan's side back into the hall and toward their room. He could almost palpably feel the tension still in Ronan as they walked, but when it had come down to it, Ronan had been careful. He'd blunted the edge of his anger for Adam. All the impulsiveness Adam had seen in him, all the hot temper easily pricked by other fighters, and yet when it came to Adam, he was careful.

He'd been angry out of worry for Adam, and then the anger had either faded or been turned inward when he'd found Adam safe. He'd protected Adam. From the fighter, from the threat of whatever had kept Adam from their room, and then from himself. Adam stole a couple of glances over at him as they walked, trust deepening. He was safe with Ronan. He knew that now.

His knuckles brushed Ronan's arm, once, as they turned a corner. Adam couldn't quite decide whether he'd done it because he wasn't paying attention or because he wanted to touch Ronan, and because he couldn't decide he was careful not to let it happen again.

Ronan tensed instinctively but soon relaxed, knowing it was just Adam. His mouth twitched but he didn't smile. He was, however, much calmer the rest of the way back. And after he'd stripped off his clothes and showered, he spent the rest of the night quietly talking to Adam or sitting in comfortable silence while Adam studied and Ronan daydreamed.

Their peace only lasted for a few more days before the lines of the war shifted. Their ship's patrol on the edges of Alliance space had been a remote and safe outpost for trainees still getting used to their starfighters and each other. But suddenly the Colteron lines shifted.

The first time, Adam thought the alarms were just another drill, until they were in the ship and there were targets, real targets, Colteron targets. It was just like a simulation, except that everything was different. The real velocity and recoil of their starfighter in battle was nothing like the stable simulations, and nothing like their test flights.

It went on and on, unlike any of the simulations except a few of the endurance ones. They were in the battle for hours, and finally withdrawn from battle only so that the next shift could go in. Nine hours to rest, and then they were up again, in a battle that went on for days. They got breaks in one hour for lunch and then nine hours to rest, with seven hour shifts in between, so that by the third day everyone was exhausted, but the Colteron waves let up, and they rested again, until a few days later it all started up again.

Adam barely talked anymore outside of practicalities. They didn't train, aside from the half hour of physical exercise that was required of them every day. He touched more frequently, however, and that made up for the lack of words. Every time they entered or exited their fighter, he touched his knuckles to Ronan's. When they ate, he sat close enough to Ronan that their legs touched. When they left their room each day, he bumped his shoulder against Ronan's, and when they returned, he brushed his fingers against Ronan's wrist.

There was no back-up coming, and they knew it. There were no ships to spare: they had been the spares. It was simply a matter of holding the line.

The exhaustion was familiar. Even on the days when the waves were lessened and the line could be held with fewer soldiers, there was still a sense that at any moment, the emergency routine could start again, to have as many soldiers in ships as possible, while the techs and doctors repaired ships and healed soldiers as quickly as possible to get them back in the fight.

It was a thrill, though, despite the fear and the exhaustion. Adam's trust in Ronan deepened every day, every flight. They kept each other alive, and their kill count was one of the best on the ship.

But there was a battle where they got overwhelmed, where they were both tired and in hour six of a seven hour shift. Pinned between two Colteron ships, Adam couldn't dodge it fast enough and they took a hit. The hull shattered, and even though the emergency force field went up within seconds, they were badly damaged.

"Ronan?" Adam asked, trying not to panic as he reversed fast, dodging through the oncoming ships while he retreated, babbling a quick report to their fellow ships--we're hit, we're retreating--"Ronan, talk to me, give me something."

Ronan thought, as he saw one of the Colteron ships moving in front of them, that this was what he wanted. Throwing himself headlong into a fight he could never hope to win and didn't care if he proved everyone wrong or not. In practice, he found the sight of his death speeding toward him terrifying, but he didn't think that fear was for himself.

He knew that Adam was on it. They were turning so fast he couldn't aim. But he still opened his mouth to say something. And then the shield between him and space cracked and the ship around him shattered. The impact jolted his body and either his eyes shut or his vision cut out for the few seconds it took for pieces of the ship to embed themselves in his body. A sharp pain in his chest told him where the largest lay, and when he raised his hand to it, he cut his palm on the beam that had impaled him.

He pulled his trembling hand away and stared at the stars. The other ships faded and he hoped that was from distance and not his vision shutting down.

"Yeah," he said weakly. It hurt to breathe and it hurt even more to talk. "Get us-- back."

Maybe he should tell Adam how bad it was but what would be the point then? As cool as Adam as, if he panicked, they could both end up dead. Ronan clamped down on the anxiety growing inside him, or he tried to. There was no way to channel it into anger and even if there were, he felt too weak to hit something.

Ronan sounded... wrong, and he wasn't taking any shots, not even warning shots to keep off pursuit. Adam didn't let himself think or worry about it, not while Ronan was depending on him to pick up the slack and get them back safely.

He skidded into the hangar and into their spot, slamming the distress button to alert the techs that they needed help. Dropping the emergency shield, Adam yanked off his seatbelt and twisted around to see Ronan covered in blood, with several pieces of shrapnel stabbed into his body. "Ronan," he said, breathless with terror at the thought of losing his partner.

Edited 2018-09-03 02:09 (UTC)

They were safe. No, Adam was safe. Ronan was filled with a level of dread he'd never experienced. He kept thinking of his home and how he'd never see it again. The last thing he'd see would be this: his body pierced and broken. For some reason, he focused on how strange the blood looked on his all black uniform.

"O--kay. Yeah. That's a lot of blood. That's a lot--" His voice began to go from panicked to hysterical but that wasn't the reason why he was sweating. "Yeah, I'm gonna die."

He was really hoping it'd be a lot faster than this.

Unthinking, he reached to try and open the door. He didn't know what he was supposed to do next but get out seemed like a good start. The stabbing pain in his chest left him screaming instead, pinned to his seat.

Adam reached out to catch that reaching hand to prevent it from reaching again. He was mostly out of his seat, bent awkwardly over the bar between them as he reached for Ronan. "Don't you dare die," he said, reaching his other hand for Ronan's cheek, lifting his head just enough to make sure that Ronan's eyes were locked on his. He just had to take on faith that the doctors were coming, they'd help, they'd save Ronan. "Don't you dare leave me."

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