[Adam takes it all in, attentively, as they head to the church. He's glad that it's a one-way thing, while he processes through the jealousy and confusion he feels, learning that Ronan is serious about Kyle, and wants to keep him around. Wants to date him, apparently.]
I like you carefree. [He drops their clothing to one side of their little attic room--it's theirs, now. Belongs to the two of them. This version always has. It's not the same room as the one that had been Adam's back home, though Ronan had increasingly made that one his.
Ronan thinks he made an exact copy. He didn't, but Adam doesn't want to tell him that. He likes Ronan's version better.
The cardboard box under the bed doesn't have the dent from when Adam lost his temper and kicked it, because that's a reminder of the parts of this room that belonged to Blue and to Adam's past. The bathroom cabinet door opens smoothly, without the wobble it had developed back home. None of the wisps of Blue's hair or bits of brightly colored yarn fuzz were included in this version.
It's their sanctuary, and Adam's liked it more and more as he's realized that. He's removed some of the things that reminded him more painfully of his past, finding other places to store them. He replaced the pillows and the duvet with new ones, but left the mattress because the one Ronan dreamed was larger and softer than the one back home had been, and he wasn't about to bother hauling a mattress up all those stairs if it could be avoided.]
I like it when you trust me and tell me things. I like it less when you spring things on me without giving me explanations or context. I don't like it at all that you didn't tell me about what happened between you and Kyle.
[He lays down on the bed, still naked, fingers curled around Ronan's energy as he sends soothing waves through it.]
I didn't chastise you, Ronan. I was startled, because I only had fragments of the picture, and I didn't understand how things had gotten to that point because you hadn't told me any of it, and then you wanted me to join in. It was like giving me a book with most of the first half removed and expecting me to understand what I was reading. Okay? Can you try to trust me more and tell me more things about your feelings and experiences, going forward?
no subject
I like you carefree. [He drops their clothing to one side of their little attic room--it's theirs, now. Belongs to the two of them. This version always has. It's not the same room as the one that had been Adam's back home, though Ronan had increasingly made that one his.
Ronan thinks he made an exact copy. He didn't, but Adam doesn't want to tell him that. He likes Ronan's version better.
The cardboard box under the bed doesn't have the dent from when Adam lost his temper and kicked it, because that's a reminder of the parts of this room that belonged to Blue and to Adam's past. The bathroom cabinet door opens smoothly, without the wobble it had developed back home. None of the wisps of Blue's hair or bits of brightly colored yarn fuzz were included in this version.
It's their sanctuary, and Adam's liked it more and more as he's realized that. He's removed some of the things that reminded him more painfully of his past, finding other places to store them. He replaced the pillows and the duvet with new ones, but left the mattress because the one Ronan dreamed was larger and softer than the one back home had been, and he wasn't about to bother hauling a mattress up all those stairs if it could be avoided.]
I like it when you trust me and tell me things. I like it less when you spring things on me without giving me explanations or context. I don't like it at all that you didn't tell me about what happened between you and Kyle.
[He lays down on the bed, still naked, fingers curled around Ronan's energy as he sends soothing waves through it.]
I didn't chastise you, Ronan. I was startled, because I only had fragments of the picture, and I didn't understand how things had gotten to that point because you hadn't told me any of it, and then you wanted me to join in. It was like giving me a book with most of the first half removed and expecting me to understand what I was reading. Okay? Can you try to trust me more and tell me more things about your feelings and experiences, going forward?