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Adam never asks for advice, but advice finds him anyway. The internet and well-meaning adults and cheesy pop culture artifacts have all kinds of "wisdom" to offer someone who had the back luck to fall in love with their boarding school roommate -- or, if not that exactly, then someone who has a crush on a friend. A lot of the advice is misguided, unhelpful, or downright appalling, but the overall gist is that Adam just needs to be himself.
Adam has never found that being himself makes anything better.
Especially not since the person that Ronan wants is so obviously not Adam.
"Which clubs have you been in, Parrish?" Gansey asks from his perch on the foot of Ronan's bed.
"I haven't."
Gansey looks up from his notebook. "What, not any?"
Adam flips a page in his physics textbook. "No."
They are, as usual, spending their evening free time in the room that he and Ronan were assigned at the beginning of the year. Technically it's a four-person room, but the other two juniors they live with are afraid of Ronan and avoid the room as much as possible. At first, Adam had refused to do the same out of principle, because it wasn't fair that the most obnoxious person got the room to himself. As the year went by, it was less about principle and more about the fact that he liked Ronan's company.
But their roommates abdicating their stake in the room means there's no one to complain that Gansey is always there. Adam can't complain about it; he likes Gansey. He can't complain about having his friend hang out in his room. He can't possibly complain, about about having a front row seat to the way that Ronan smiles at Gansey's jokes, and listens to his scolding even when he pretends not to care, and takes every opportunity in the world to touch him, while Adam sits on the other side of the room, part of the conversation but out of arm's reach, not that anyone ever reaches out to him.
Gansey taps his pen against the frame of his glasses. "Didn't you have to do a sport as a first-year -- no, you transferred in as a second-year, didn't you?"
Adam had been accepted as a first-year, but his loan hadn't come through in time; he'd had to defer.
"Who gives a shit about clubs?" Adam is fiercely glad for Ronan's intervention, until he sees Ronan, sprawled out along the bed, kick the notebook off Gansey's lap and put his foot there instead. His face goes hot and his stomach goes cold. He should go back to his physics homework. "It's just another excuse for teachers to get their rocks off bossing kids around."
Gansey collects his notebook, carefully, like he doesn't want to dislodge Ronan's foot. "I happen to know that Coach Allen was particularly lax with you. It wouldn't have been such a bad idea for you to stick with tennis longer than a year."
"Yeah, too bad I didn't win a trophy for playing with balls, boo hoo."
"You'd have more class points than you do now."
"Why, who could ever need more than two class points?" Adam asks flippantly, forgetting he wants to stay out of the conversation.
Ronan flips him off, but there's no anger to it. "I'm only fourth from the bottom in class rankings. I'm a regular Albert Einstock."
That's too obvious of an opening; Adam comes at it sideways. "Nothing about you is regular, Lynch."
Ronan grins at him, like he was expecting that. "I shit just fine, Parrish."
"Ronan," Gansey sighs, aggrieved. How dare they lower the tone of the conversation.
Ronan lifts his foot up and prods at Gansey's face. It's less of a kick and more of a caress.
Right. That's why Adam wasn't going to watch. Back to physics. Physics. God, why couldn't physics be more interesting? It's too easy to ignore.
"Nevertheless," and Adam hates that he can hear amusement and fondness in Gansey's voice without even looking. Hates that there's anyone in the world that could feel amused and fond about getting a foot shoved in their face. Hates that Ronan is shoving his foot in anyone else's face, and what the hell is wrong with Adam that he can think that? "Between Parrish's class standing, and my class standing and extracurriculars, we're good on points."
Adam frowns. Dammit, apparently physics was distracting enough to make him miss the point of this interrogation. "Points for what?"
"Next year's housing preference," Gansey says. "The rest of the seniors are going to be fighting over the doubles, it should be easy to get our first choice of a triple -- "
A chill races through Adam like the start of a flu.
"So you're just going to decide for me where I get to live?"
Gansey's eyes go wide, and he doesn't answer.
Ronan does, because Ronan never freezes when Adam snarls, and Adam loves that about him, and Adam hates that Ronan doesn't care that he's the only person who can do that. "What, you don't want to live with us? You want to get a double with Tad Carruthers and have him kiss your ass and copy your notes all year?"
"I want," you, "to make my own decisions."
Ronan rolls his eyes, and Adam doesn't want him at all right now. "Fine. Pretty please, live with me and Gansey next year, since we're the only fucking option you have anyway?"
Adam wants that. He wants it so much, him and his two best friends, him and his only two friends, united against the world and its schoolwork and its assumptions. Another year of waking up to the sound of Ronan swearing at his alarm. Another year of knowing, however awful his day is, that he has something to look forward to at the end of it.
Another year of watching Ronan put his feet in Gansey's lap and his arms over Gansey's shoulders and his whole body in Gansey's personal space. Another year of Gansey and Ronan exchanging those silent looks where they talk about Adam without having to say anything, like they're doing right now. Another year of Gansey and Ronan exchanging looks where they don't even remember that Adam exists.
"No."
Ronan sits upright, aggression in every line of his body, and all Adam can think is how glad he is that it means Ronan isn't touching Gansey. "You're really going to shoot yourself in the face just because Gansey didn't ask nice enough for you?"
"I know this is a new concept to you, but Gansey saying something doesn't make it a law of the universe. I have other options," though he hasn't given the matter any thought before now, and damned if he can come up with what those options might be now.
"Of course you do," Gansey says, trying so hard to pacify Adam that it only pisses him off more. "We just thought -- "
"We thought you wouldn't screw everything up just to prove you can," Ronan interrupts. "We forgot you were the smartest fuck up in the world."
"Sounds like you'll be better off without me, then." Adam stares him down.
Ronan stares back.
"Of course not," Gansey says. "Just think about it, okay? We don't need to make a decision yet."
Adam doesn't respond.
Gansey clears his throat, awkward. "I should get back to my room. It's curfew soon," and he picks up his books in silence.
The door shuts behind Gansey, and Adam breaks off eye contact to turn back to his desk. It's forty minutes until curfew, and Adam is as proud of running Gansey off as he's been of anything in his life, and he's sick to his stomach over it.
Ronan gets close enough to kick the leg of Adam's chair. Adam doesn't react to the thump. Doesn't look down, even though Ronan's not wearing shoes, even though that must have hurt.
"What the fuck is your problem today?"
Adam start copying out the next physics problem into his notebook.
"Fuck you," Ronan spits, because the thing he hates, worse than losing a fight, is someone refusing to fight with him. And Adam knows that, and he's doing it to Ronan anyway.
He focuses entirely on moving his pencil across the page. Don't press so hard; the lead will break, the paper will tear --
The door slams, and Adam looks up to see that he's alone in the room.
He puts his head in his hands, but only for a minute, and then he goes back to physics.
-
He doesn't have a strategy. He hadn't decided to blow up the two most important relationships he has. He'd only done what he had to do in the moment to survive. Still, given time, he could figure something out.
Gansey does not give him time.
"I thought you were going to let me think about it." Adam starts off nasty -- a mistake. It gives him nowhere to escalate to, but he doesn't have enough composure to do this argument the right way. If there is a right way to have this argument.
"I will," Gansey says, no acknowledgement of the hypocrisy of ambushing someone the morning after your argument to insist that you're giving them time. "I just wanted to know if there's something you're worried about. I don't have my heart set on any particular room, you can choose which triple we put in for -- "
"I don't care which room I'm in, Gansey," Adam snaps. "They're all the same. I'm not worried that I won't have a sufficiently fancy room."
Gansey waits a beat before he responds. Adam can practically hear him reciting some one-percenter axiom about negotiations going to the person who's least invested.
"I guess I can't understand why you wouldn't want to live with Ronan and myself."
"You can't? Here's a hint: It's because of you. And Ronan."
Gansey's upper class training must fail him, because he doesn't hide his hurt, at all. "Have I done something to annoy you?"
He has, except he hasn't, because Adam is the only one who has done anything wrong in this scenario, and even knowing that he can't stop doing it.
"Nothing," Adam says. "Nothing at all. Consider this my favor to you. With your class standing and your extracurriculars you've got enough class points to get a double. You and Ronan can be as close as you like."
His expression changes: not pain, not anger, not even panic, which Adam had half expected after all their secret-keeping. If anything, Gansey looks confused. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm not an idiot," Adam says. "And I'm sick of you two pretending you're my friends when you can't be bothered to tell me that you're dating."
Gansey's eyebrows shoot up so fast that his glasses slip down his nose. It ought to be funny.
Adam gets up and leaves the dining hall before he has to hear whatever excuse Gansey has for himself.
-
Adam gets through classes fine, hides out in the library all through evening free time. He stays hidden away in the deepest part of the stacks until after the last warning bell, until everyone else has left to get to their rooms, until he has to sprint to get back to the dormitory wing before curfew.
His timing pays off. He's the last one in the room, and however pissed off Ronan is at him, he won't want to fight in front of witnesses. Ronan has always had a healthy sense of privacy.
Ronan glares at Adam, and then glares at their roommates. "Leave."
The cowards don't even hesitate. They dart out the door, clearly preferring to take their chances with the floor monitors than with Ronan in a mood.
"That's your fucking problem with me?" Ronan asks, no preamble, no playing it safe. "You don't want to live with me because I'm gay?"
Adam turns his back to the room and grabs his pajamas out of his closet.
"You're really that scared I'm going to jump you?" His voice is bitter and mean and broken.
Adam could let it go there. He should let it go. If he lets Ronan think that's all it is, then it's the perfect reason for Ronan to let this whole matter drop.
But he can't stand for Ronan to think that poorly of him, for Ronan to think he's that bad of a person. Not Ronan, too.
"Right," Adam says, not turning around. "Because I've lived with you for a whole year with no problem, but now it's suddenly an issue? I'm not that stupid."
"You're pretty stupid if you're going to live with some loser next year just because I'm gay."
"Not wanting to share a room with you and your boyfriend doesn't make me a bigot."
"Gansey's not my boyfriend," Ronan says, sharp.
Adam would have thought that would be a relief to hear. It isn't.
"Well, I'm sure you can nail that down once I'm out of the way." Adam slams his closet shut. "He'll fall in love with you and I'm fine with that, I don't care." He's breathing fast for no reason at all. He digs his nails into the palms of his hands but he still can't get a grip. "What kind of shitty person wouldn't be fine with that. What kind of monster would be jealous of their friend instead of happy -- "
"Oh, shit." Ronan's voice behind him is too close and too knowing. Adam wants to tell to back off, wants to yell at Ronan for turning him into this wreck, wants to hide from the pity or disgust or amusement that must be on his face. "Adam -- "
Adam turns around, please let it go sitting on the tip of his tongue, and Ronan takes one last step and kisses him.
Adam is too shocked to do anything. His mouth was starting to open, and so Ronan's lips land half on his lips and half on his teeth. He can't figure out how to fix that. He can't even remember how to close his eyes. You're supposed to close your eyes when someone kisses you. Instead he's staring unfocused at the blur of Ronan's too-close face, holding his breath and panicking in an unhelpful corner of his brain that he hadn't brushed his teeth after dinner.
Ronan pulls away. His eyes are shut, because he wasn't caught by surprise, the bastard.
He doesn't open his eyes like Adam expects, though. He doesn't look romantic or brave or foolish or any of the things you have to be to kiss someone. He just looks -- miserable, Adam realizes, with a slow delayed horror, because the boy he kissed didn't kiss him back.
"If you tell me that I'm the one you're jealous of and it's Gansey you want, I'm going to fucking die," and Ronan's voice is so hoarse that it's suddenly the easiest thing in the world to be romantic, and brave, and foolish, to take Ronan's face in his hands and pull him in for another kiss. He even manages to shut his eyes this time.
-
A floor monitor comes by a minute later with their cowardly roommates in tow and writes up all four of them for blowing curfew. Adam doesn't mind in the least.
-
"...Cheng really wanted a south facing room, but the corner triple gives us more floor space, and anyway I think the morning light will be good for him. He can't risk oversleeping in his senior year."
"Congrats," Ronan says.
"It's only a room assignment," Gansey says. "But thanks."
"No, I meant about you becoming a mother," Ronan says. "You're going to have to give Cheng formula, though. You don't have the tits for breast feeding."
Gansey sighs, exasperated, and looks at Adam for backup.
"I'm not going to help change diapers," Adam says. For the first time he can remember he has no unfinished school work, and he's taking advantage of the opportunity to laze on Ronan's bed, their arms just barely touching.
"I am no longer happy that the two of you have reconciled."
"Liar," Ronan says. "You're so happy for us it's creepy."
Gansey grins lopsidedly, like he's saying guilty as charged.
Adam shuts his eyes and grins, too, relaxes into the mattress. If happiness is creepiness then he is utterly disturbed.
"Still," Gansey says. "I hope you're not offended that I put in to live with Czerny and Cheng. I just don't think I could live with a couple. I need my own space."
"That's what I said," Adam protests, but only halfheartedly. "And you were definitely offended by it."
"Yeah, but you were starting from a faulty premise," Ronan says. "So your conclusions were forfeit."
"I swear to God you only do your logic homework so you can piss me off with it later."
Ronan, with no sign of cognitive dissonance at the quick change in debate tactics, sticks his tongue in Adam's ear.
Adam distantly hears Gansey say "And, that's my cue to leave" over the sound of blood rushing to his face.
Ronan disengages from Adam to lock Gansey in a farewell hug. Adam watches. Without the weight of jealousy crushing his lungs, it's actually nice to see Ronan get the rough physical affection that he thrives on. To see Ronan happy and loved.
But it's nicer when Gansey leaves and Ronan lies back on the bed next to Adam and curls around him.
"Curfew in a minute," Adam mumbles into his neck.
Ronan's sigh tousles his hair. "Roommates suck."
Adam runs his hand in lazy circles over Ronan's back. "I don't know. Some of them aren't so bad."
Ronan presses his lips against the top of Adam's head.
All too soon they hear the sound of a room key being insert in the door.
"Ugh. I can't wait for next year," he says, wistful, as Adam pulls away.
Adam thinks about the double they'd managed to secure with his class standing and Ronan's strategic intimidation of the rising senior class.
"Yeah. Next year's going to be great."