Adam Parrish (
hondoyota) wrote in
marlowemuses2018-06-14 08:39 pm
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Written in the Stars
It still felt incredible to Adam that he was here, on this starship, in a navigator's uniform. He tried not to gape openly as he made his way through the ship, following the map on his communicator to find the quarters that he'd been assigned.
He'd been born in the colonies, and had known want all his life. Testing into the navigator program--on a full scholarship--was a dream come true. Years of hard work and training and it still seemed surreal. But he was here. He'd made it. He was a navigator.
The door to his quarters opened with a touch, already coded to his fingerprint. The room was simple and utilitarian, but it had a private bathroom and there was plenty of space. In terms of what Adam was accustomed to in the colonies, this was luxurious.
Dropping his bag on the lower bunk, Adam sank down to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning back and closing his eyes for a moment. He drifted off almost immediately, chronically sleep-deprived by the level of training and study he required of himself in order to stay at the top of his class.
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Adam was surprised at himself for how gentle and attentive he was with Ronan. He'd never been a gentle person, always too caught up in survival to have any energy to waste on anyone else. But when it came to Ronan, Adam couldn't stop himself from fussing.
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Ronan curled closer to Adam to make his stance on him leaving clear.
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Tossing his tablet aside, Adam shifted to lay alongside Ronan, leaning down over him to claim a kiss. He slid one leg between Ronan's and braced his arms on either side of Ronan's head, bracketing him in.
As much as he tried to keep the kiss light so as to not strain Ronan, Adam couldn't seem to break the kiss. He wanted it too much, as one kiss led into another and he pressed closer, addicted to the feeling of Ronan's lips on his own.
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"Fuck," he muttered.
Objectively, he hadn't wanted to kiss Adam for a long time, but he'd done so desperately enough that it felt like a lifetime. If he wanted to be romantic, perhaps it was a lifetime after all-- waiting for this one person to enter his life. He wasn't going to let a little pain get in between them now.
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He immediately pushed Ronan flat on his back, holding him down by the shoulders. “You’re not allowed to hurt yourself,” he scolded. Thinking for just a moment, he shifted over to straddle Ronan’s waist, bracketing his arms on Ronan’s shoulders to hold him down without hurting him. This way they could kiss without Ronan straining, and Adam could enjoy the solid warmth of Ronan beneath his body.
He hovered above Ronan’s lips. “No straining.”
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"Tease," he whispered. "Kiss me."
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Alone, with only Ronan to hear, Adam keened very softly, wanting more. He wanted Ronan, wanted to be right here with him more than anything he'd wanted before. Keeping his elbows on Ronan's shoulders to keep him pinned down, Adam curled his hands around Ronan's head, brushing his fingertips over the prickle of Ronan's short hair.
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Adam's mouth was hot and the press of his body against Ronan's burned and that-- that Ronan had imagined. And yet as pleasure spread through him and he arced his body up for more, his sense of anger and hurt and the never ending well of depression faded. He didn't remember what happiness felt like really, but it was something close to this. This-- love or maybe it wasn't that but need, affection, and desperation tangling into one.
Ronan kissed back, hard and hungry. Pinned as he was, there was still enough room for him to grip Adam's hips. He didn't notice the pain for a while. It was in the background, too small to notice, then not bad enough to slow him down. It wasn't until he winced that he realized this was actually a problem.
His hands twitched and he pulled away. "Adam--" he hissed.
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However badly he'd wanted to peel Adam's clothes off before, pain was a very effective libido killer. Instead of pressing up against him, Ronan let his body go slack and relaxed into the mattress as much as he could.
"Can we do this later?" he asked.
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Pushing up Ronan's shirt, Adam checked the stitches with careful touches, making sure there was no blood, swelling or infection. Everything looked fine, and he pulled Ronan's shirt back down, hand lingering for just a moment on an unhurt section of Ronan's belly.
Careful and attentive though he was, Adam was also subdued and quieter than he had been a moment ago. He liked the idea that Ronan wanted him, but he also didn't know what this was, and insecurity nagged at his heart.
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As much as he'd wanted Adam to take off his shirt and touch him, the reality did not match up to his expectations. He didn't have a good view of himself, but he imagined he looked terrible with God knew how many stitches.
"You done now?" he asked. "I'm not going to bleed out because we were--" Oh. Uhm, this was somehow weirder to say out loud than he thought it would be. "Making out."
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"I'm going to go get us some food. Try to rest." That was that, in Adam's eyes. Not looking at Ronan, Adam got up and started changing into a clean uniform.
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What had he said? Should he not have mentioned what they were doing? God, what were they doing?
"You can't stay?" As hard as he tried not to sound vulnerable, he heard it in his voice. He shouldn't hate himself too much for it. It was understandable, he guessed, given he'd nearly died.
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Normally Adam didn't mind missing a meal or two. But he'd missed dinner last night from refusing to leave Ronan's side, and breakfast this morning. They both needed food, and Adam was the only one available to get it for them.
"Rest and don't strain anything," Adam ordered. "And I'll kiss you again when I get back."
He kissed Ronan's forehead, to teasingly reinforce that Ronan wouldn't be getting another kiss until Adam returned with food.
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"No promises," Ronan said though he was fairly certain he'd fall asleep five minutes after Adam left.
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It took longer than Adam would have liked, but soon enough he returned with food for them both, setting it down on the floor near their bed and curling up next to Ronan to kiss him as promised.
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"Get food?" he asked, struggling to regain coherency.
Even taking his exhaustion into account, it was hard to think. Everything was so hazy and unfocused. He felt so raw and needy and-- emotional. For once those emotions weren't anger.
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He very slowly tried to ease himself up into a sitting position. He couldn't put much weight on his arms at all so the process was slow and painful.
This part he hated.
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“I know that,” Adam responded. He wasn’t about to soothe Ronan’s ego on the topic, and if Ronan didn’t want help, Adam wouldn’t insist. He picked up the container of warm broth, holding it for Ronan as he waited for him to sit up.
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"Never though I'd be happy to see this shit," he grumbled. Then when his hand brushed against Adam's, he spoke again in a far different tone. "You've got nice hands."
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"Fuck you," Adam responded to the scolding. There wasn't much heat behind his retort, but he still prickled at it, defenses rising.
Adam's pride was too sensitive to turn around quickly enough to respond to the compliment, so he just ignored it. He stayed sitting close by Ronan's side, however, and reached for more of the food so that he could feed himself.
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It would have been one thing if it was just trash talk. He'd often heard that retort during fights among the fighters or, hell, people back home. It was different when he actually meant it as something that would happen. It made him feel faint-- or giddy? He didn't know. This was all new to him. God, it was exciting.
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Adam didn't really process it at first. It didn't mean anything in particular and it wasn't until Ronan suddenly went red and ducked his head that Adam glanced over. Then he realized, and laughed.
It was a surprised, breathless little laugh, but Adam didn't laugh often and hadn't laughed for years before Ronan. Being around Ronan made him smile easier, and the laugh felt good. He was charmed by how embarrassed Ronan was at his own statement. "Don't start flirting or I'll call you 'baby'," he teased, smiling into his food.
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