[ flying isn't exactly an essential magical skill. with floo powder, apparition, portkeys, and the ability to enchant just about any muggle-made vehicle to suit their needs, most witches and wizards get by just fine with just a year's worth of instruction and practice. for ronan, flying is tantamount to breathing. quidditch isn't so much of a pastime for him as it is an excuse to spend school-mandated quality time with his broom. plus, gansey convinced him it would be a good outlet for his aggression, and it's hard to say no to gansey.
but ronan is fairly positive adam hasn't touched a broom since their first year. since gryffindors and slytherins had class together, ronan was there to witness adam's first faltering attempts at flying. he'd be lying if he said he hadn't found it funny. but when the teacher's back was turned and kavinsky took to taunting adam in the most distasteful ways he knew how at eleven years-old, ronan found that less funny. he told himself it had more to do with a dislike for kavinsky than any nascent feelings of friendship for adam. either way, before ronan knew what he was doing, he'd opened his mouth and shouted, "hey kavinsky! last one to the forbidden forest eats dragon shit." kavinsky forgot all about adam after that.
gansey was less than pleased by ronan and kavinsky's resulting detention. ronan never bothered trying to explain himself. he wasn't even sure he could if he tried.
it doesn't matter now. what matters is that they're more than halfway through their schooling and adam is still terrible at flying. he apparently knows everything there is to know about the complicated mechanics of muggle cars, but broomsticks mystify (or terrify) him. so that morning, ronan tells adam to meet him at the training pitch after dinner. he knows for a fact none of the teams will be practicing and they'll have the field to themselves. there aren't any seats at the practice pitch for spectators or enemy spies.
the sun is fading over the horizon by the time ronan gets to the pitch. while he waits for adam, he gets on his broom, a sleek black racing broom that belonged to his father, and zips around the field a few times. ]
[ getting the hang of flying when you've barely known the inner workings of magic itself is not an easy task. not only that, but flying seems like such a superficial area in which to focus his efforts — there are so many more important things for adam to learn, to understand, to know. however much history he looks up in the library, he never seems to know enough, and he wants — needs — to know everything. to be taken seriously. to give wizards no reason to treat him differently than anyone else.
also, brooms are expensive, and adam could only afford a used, half-way to broken one. he's worked on it, of course, charmed it with safety charms, spells to keep it's tip from fraying, varnish charms to keep the handle from giving him splinters. but it still looks old. adam had been ashamed to take it out.
then the flying itself had been terrifying and exhilarating, but mostly terrifying. being up in the air with seeming nothing holding him down, with the ground getting farther and farther, promising a fall that could break bones, was not a comfortable place for adam to find himself. he likes his feet on solid ground. he likes to know he's completely in control of his movement, and already struggles with feeling that way inside his own body. on a broom, who knows what could happen. someone else could hex it, the charms could unravel themselves, it could simply break.
so no, he hasn't touched his broom since the lessons of their first year. had someone else asked adam to meet him at the pitch, adam would not even have bothered bringing the broom. it's ronan, though, and ronan has become a sort of exception to the rule for a lot of things. adam has always admired the way ronan flies, like he belongs up there, like he's completely in charge of what's going on, like he's afraid of nothing at all.
maybe he can contaminate adam with enough of that for him to manage to take off and do a few laps.
before making his presence known on the pitch, adam watches ronan and his broom fly over the field. there's something in ronan's face when he flies that makes adam's heart stutter a little, and instead of staying starstruck a moment longer, he walks within view, craning his head to keep his eyes on ronan. ]
You have one hour! [ one hour to try and make adam go from useless to somewhat capable. ]
[ the danger is half the enjoyment for ronan. the fear of falling only amplifies the thrill of flying. the faster and higher he flies, the greater the adrenaline rush, the more he feels alive. when he's in the air, the world where his father's dead and his mother's in a coma and he hates his brother feels far away. it helps that he's been around brooms his whole life, that his father introduced him to flying before he even got to hogwarts. adam can't be blamed for having muggle parents or for having a father who probably wouldn't have taught him how to fly even if they had been as magical as their son.
ronan sees adam approaching the pitch well before he calls up to him. it's possible he keeps flying around for another minute or two just to show off. he doesn't know exactly when he started wanting to impress adam parrish, but there's no denying the way his heart speeds up as adam watches him. he spirals through the air one more time before diving to the ground, slowing and pulling up to dismount a few feet from adam.
he grins, shark-like. ] You got a date, Parrish?
[ it's meant as a joke, but ronan immediately regrets saying it. he looks at the ground as he gets in position, like he couldn't mount a broom in his sleep. once he's willed away the uneasy feeling in his stomach, he raises his gaze to adam again. ]
All right. Hop on that limp tree branch you call a broom. Try to get off the ground at least, so I can see what I'm working with.
[ adam lets the comment pass, but he does watch ronan a little more closely after he's said it. adam spends a lot of time observing the people around him, and he's noticed things about ronan that he is not sure ronan has noticed he's noticed. it kind of keeps going in circles like that — you were watching me and i caught you at it and now i'm watching you.
but this isn't what they're here for. ]
If you can call Potions homework a date.
[ as far as adam parrish is concerned, his free time at hogwarts is spent studying and doing extracurricular work and helping gansey with his search. since the blue thing, he hasn't given dating as much thought.
adam's hands grip his broom as he gets on, and this is the part where he falters. his eyes are focused down, but he looks up briefly at ronan, as if to say "i know you'll laugh if i fall but please try to contain yourself". then he's up. barely above the ground, but enough that his feet are no longer on it. it's about as much as he can do, and his hands are already white knuckled around the handle of the broom. it shudders beneath him, and he goes tense either to still himself or brace himself for a fall. the latter doesn't happen, and the broom balances out again. ]
You're a miracle worker. I've learned enough. [ it's said in his usual wry tone, a joke, considering he's not making movement to get off the broom. instead, he looks at ronan. what next? ]
[ if he felt adam watching him during his brief internal struggle, ronan doesn't let on. he's grateful when adam returns the volley, rather than drawing attention to his awkwardness, and he might also be slightly relieved that adam really doesn't have a date. ]
I wouldn't, but you probably would.
[ after that, ronan very deliberately does not think about what he would call a date. how it might look a little like what they're doing now.
but that's not why he invited adam out here. this is just a flying lesson between friends, and if adam does wind up falling, ronan will definitely laugh. it's hard enough not to laugh as adam grips the broom like his life depends on it when he's barely a foot off the ground. the kinder side of him, which is normally buried deep, deep down, remembers what it was like when he first learned how to ride a broom. the ground seemed pretty far when he was seven. ]
Not a chance. [ ronan kicks off the grass and pulls up next to adam, so they're facing opposite directions. with one hand on his broom, he reaches over with the other and wraps his fingers around adam's wrist, gently trying to loosen his death grip. ] Stop strangling it. These things can smell fear.
[ not true, strictly speaking. but ronan thinks it's good to keep in mind all the same. ]
Hold on with your legs, not your hands, and balance from the waist. And relax. You're not going to get hurt this close to the ground, loser.
[ good thing, too, or adam wouldn't fly one for all the galleons of the wizarding world.
adam frowns, but it's not a frown of annoyance or anger at ronan. more a frustration with himself, for managing to handle every other form of magic except this one. for being afraid of it in a way that makes him feel like a child. he wants to listen to what ronan is saying and believe it. rationally, he knows he can't hurt himself falling off a broom that's less than 3 feet off the ground. but his body's tense and telling him otherwise. his body is tense and refusing to give control over to an object that feels almost alive.
but ronan's fingers around his wrist are alive, too, and adam has found more and more that he trusts those hands and the person they belong to.
so his grip relaxes. going from white knuckled to a more relaxed hold. he stops holding his back stiff, too, shifting that attention to holding onto the broom with his legs and finding balance in his middle. the broom doesn't shake once, but he's not about to think this means anything. ]
Should I go higher?
[ it's a strangely unsure question. adam rarely relies on anyone else to learn what he wants to learn, but here he turns to ronan for guidance, maybe in a show of trust, maybe because adam doesn't care about flying enough to have bothered doing this with anyone else. ]
'They're not sentient.' [ said in a high-pitched imitation of adam's accent, punctuated with a perfunctory eye-roll.
but then a small swell of pride rises in his chest when adam listens to him, adjusting his grip and his center of balance. ronan doesn't often get the chance to play teacher to his friends. adam and gansey and even blue outstrip him in most subjects, largely due to them actually giving a shit about their grades. gansey, and occasionally adam and blue, help him do damage control when he reaches a critical point where he might fail out of school. but flying is one of the few places where ronan has authority over the others, and it's oddly gratifying to be on the other end of things for once. when it first occurred to ronan to teach adam to fly, he hadn't been sure how well it would go over. he hadn't been sure how easily adam would listen to him or if they'd be able to get through the whole lesson without an explosive argument. the first concern seems to be unfounded; the second remains a possibility, as it always does with them.
once adam appears to have things under control, ronan puts some space between them by leaning back. he considers the question. ]
Sure. You know how to do that, right?
[ he demonstrates, giving the front of his broom a tug as he straightens his back and lengthens his spine. his racing broom responds accordingly, rising another couple of feet into the air. brooms might not be sentient, but ronan's father's broom handles so well it seems almost attuned to him. adam's broom probably won't be as cooperative, but ronan's prepared to instruct him on how to deal with it. ]
[ ronan may believe acting this way makes it seem like he doesn't like adam, or covers that up, but in truth it does the opposite. he's not going to comment, at least not now, except for a brief, somewhat tight-lipped look. this is a flying lesson.
which, as adam imitates ronan on his broom and raises higher, he wonders why he agreed to at all. he has so many other things to do, books to read, homework to write, a best friend needing a kind of support adam has yet to be sure he can provide, thoughts of the quest and what jobs he'll be able to get back this summer and if he wants a career path in the wizarding world or stick to a muggle future.
yet he's here, with ronan, letting him teach him something he's had on inclination or need to learn.
it's not as smooth a climb as ronan's, far from it, but he does stop manage to reach ronan's height with no major imbalances. only a bit of wavering, after which he repeats ronan's words in his head: hold on with your hands. balance from the waist. relax. it helps, and adam keeps his eyes firmly fixed on ronan if only to avoid keeping them locked on the distance between himself and the ground. if he looks down, he might be sick. ]
I'm not completely useless. [ he says, like his hands aren't gripping the broom handle too tightly again. ]
[ this is absolutely just a flying lesson. it's definitely not an excuse to spend time with adam, just the two of them. because that would be ridiculous. there's just no one better equipped to teach adam, since few people understand how adam's brain works as well as ronan, and any excuse to get on a broom is a good excuse as far as ronan's concerned.
besides, adam needs the fresh air. it's far too easy for him to hole himself up in the library or the dungeons and lose track of time with his books and parchment. honestly, ronan is being altruistic here.
he watches adam wobble up to his level, one corner of his mouth lifting into a grin. ]
We'll see, Parrish. [ but it sounds like not bad.
the way adam's hands are choking the handle again doesn't go unnoticed. ronan sits back slightly, gripping the broom entirely with his thighs as he crosses his arms over his chest. see? that's how easy it should be. ]
Now come forward. And loosen your fucking grip, or I'll do it for you.
[ which, if ronan's completely honest with himself, he kind of wants to do anyway. ]
[ adam hopes he, soon, can tell ronan they don't need an excuse. because he likes spending time with him. and they could be doing something together that doesn't involve one of the things adam parrish likes doing least. it's an odd combination: doing the latter with someone he's growing to understand and like, with someone he's starting to want to show hidden parts of himself to.
he looks so relaxed on his broom, it's actually kind of attractive. adam immediately chucks the thought away in order to come forward, loosening his grip but only slightly. the forward movement is slow, but it's dizzying to move without having your feet on the ground and empty air all around you.
he wants to say i hope you know i hate every minute of this but it's simply not true. he does not hate being with ronan. ]
I don't know how you do this so often in the first place, but I really don't know how you do this while whacking bludgers.
[ secretly, ronan likes to think adam likes spending time with him. but he's afraid drawing too much attention to it will scare adam off. if he draws attention to it, it makes it real. if it's real, it can be ruined or destroyed. whatever this thing is between them, ronan doesn't want it to end yet.
he grins, because he knows adam doesn't hate this as much as he'd like ronan to think. ]
What can I say? I have a gift. [ as adam draws closer, ronan glides backwards, curving slightly to the left. he beckons adam with one hand, silent encouragement for him to follow, to see if they can complete a full circle without adam falling off. ] And it's the only time I get to knock people off their brooms without risking expulsion.
[ that's probably got more to do with it than any natural talent. gansey hadn't been wrong about quidditch being a good outlet for his aggression, but ronan's not about to tell gansey that. ]
[ adam follows ronan, carefully pushing the broom forward and following the arc of the other boy's broom. they're nowhere near as high as flyers go during quidditch games, but adam still feels queasy with it. the movement, the feeling of floating above nothing and with nothing to hold onto.
it's why he keeps his gaze locked on ronan's face. it gives him something to look at that isn't down. and something he likes looking at. ]
I dry the line at flying, by the way. You are not teaching me to play.
[ he doesn't think ronan intended to, but it feels important to point out. once he's in the sky, he's not going to start letting go of his broom to catch anything or whack anything.
the broom shudders again as his grip tightens too much, shuddering forward. adam curses at the sudden burst of speed, his shoulders hunched tensely even once the broom slows again. ]
Don't worry, I won't. [ ronan might've considered teaching adam quidditch briefly. if adam ever changed his mind, he could probably be persuaded to show him the ropes. but for now? ] Wouldn't want your fun allergies to kick in.
[ it's then that adam's broom acts out. without realizing it, ronan puts both hands on his own handle, prepared to rush forward if needed. fortunately the spasm subsides, but ronan is still eyeing adam's broom warily. ]
Piece of shit, [ he says under his breath. even though things seem fine now, aside from adam's too-tight grip and defensive posture, ronan closes the distance between them anyway.
but rather than trying to loosen adam's hold again, he gestures to the ground. ] Come on. [ pointing his broom down, he lowers himself to the field, dismounts, and waits for adam to join him. then, he holds out his father's racing broom. ]
Here. It's going to take you ten years to learn to fly on that. [ and they have less than an hour left. ]
notices an awful typo in my other tag, SCREAMS AND LAUNCHES INTO THE SUN
[ adam nearly says something about fun allergies, but then ronan closes the distance and adam thinks he's just going to keep going until they're almost touching. he blinks and then the thrill of thinking of ronan lining up next to him, facing the other direction, close enough for their legs to touch dissipates.
but he knows he felt it. and that it's not the first time.
he sets to follow ronan instead of lingering on that for now, landing not so gracefully next to him, but at least he's on his feet and the broom is still in his hands. when ronan holds out the broom, adam looks at it as if not comprehending.
why does that send another thrill through him, that ronan wants him to use his broom? it's one of his most prized possessions, isn't it? and he would trust adam, who can barely fly at all, not to wreck it? adam reaches a hand toward the broom, then closes his fingers around it. he just holds it for a second, and then looks into ronan's face. quietly asking are you sure? ]
I could borrow one from the school. [ but they both know those are in even worst state than adam's. ]
[ unbeknownst to either of them, a similar thrill to the one adam just experienced shoots through ronan when adam grabs his broom. it's practically an extension of him, so it would be only natural that he'd feel a little uneasy about adam using it. it would be only natural, except uneasiness isn't quite what he's feeling. if he were truly uneasy, he wouldn't have offered in the first place.
he wouldn't be pulling a face now, like he knows adam knows what he just said was perfectly stupid. ]
What, is mine not good enough for you? [ it's a deliberate misunderstanding of adam's hesitance, and they both know it. ronan lets go of his own broom so adam's forced to take it and grabs adam's broom instead.
it should feel strange, relinquishing his father's broom. but it doesn't. maybe he doesn't think adam's good enough to pull a stunt that would wreck it; he won't be flying too high or too fast, not if adam has a say in it. maybe he's not concerned because he'll be watching adam the whole time. or maybe it speaks to how much ronan has grown to trust adam, saying more than words ever could.
before he can second-guess his decision, ronan kicks off on adam's broom and rises about ten feet in the air. the broom wobbles slightly, resisting the speed with which he took off. but with a little effort and a lot of swearing, ronan wrestles it under his control in a matter of seconds. he peers down at adam. ]
You know, anyone else would kill to be in your shoes, Parrish. [ ronan's broom, which bears no identifiable brand except for the initials NL in flourishing gold letters, is the envy of every quidditch and broom enthusiast at school. ]
[ before he can say anything else, ronan is on his broom and flying above him. it seems unfair to refuse, here. not unfair — more like it would communicate the wrong thing. ronan is offering adam something, and if he turns it down it might be like he's turning down ronan's trust or affection, and it's come to light that adam does not want to do that.
he'd actually like having both, and keeping both, if possible.
so he doesn't protest and mounts the broom. ]
I know. [ he says, because it's true. everyone envies ronan's broom. adam will now know he's privileged to have tried it.
it handles completely differently from his own, so much so that when he rises up, it's too fast and too high, and he lets out a strangled sound of dismay. if his grip hadn't been so tight on the broom itself he would have reached out for ronan, which adds to his furious embarrassment. the broom steadies itself when he stops being so tense, though, just above ronan, his foot near his head.
adam breathes out a half relieved, half frustrated fuck. then calls but without looking down. ]
If I die, you don't get my chocolate frog cards collection.
[ it wouldn't have been the first time adam turned down something one of his friends offered him. usually that friend is gansey; ronan knows better. if he wants to give adam something, he knows he has to dress it up like adam's doing him a favor by taking it off his hands. or he has to leave it somewhere for adam to find, where ronan can't see his reaction. he has to act like he doesn't care whether or not adam accepts it, even though he does care. he really fucking cares.
he would've cared if adam had turned down his broom. it's not like the other things he gives adam, which are designed specifically for adam. this is ronan trusting adam with a piece of himself, and he didn't even think before doing it. if adam had turned it down, ronan definitely would've thought twice next time.
fortunately, that's not the case here. adam takes the broom and a spot of warmth blooms in ronan's chest. his stomach does something acrobatic and affectionate, and as adam shoots up past him, he laughs. a thrill runs through him again to hear adam swear. ]
Who does then? You know Gansey only cares about the Glendower cards.
[ grinning, ronan reaches up and slips his fingers under adam's pant leg to pinch his ankle. then, before adam can retaliate, if it even crosses his mind, ronan zips out of reach. ]
[ if adam thought about it for two seconds, he might see that he's starting to have fun. beneath the discomfort of flying and the queasiness of his stomach, being with ronan makes the entire ordeal more tolerable. being entrusted something like ronan's broom does, as well. it tells him that this matters to ronan, and therefore he needs to take it seriously. ]
Noah. He deserves them. [ he opens his mouth to say something else, but then ronan's pinching his ankle, and his foot gives a jerk, and ronan's moving out of reach before adam can retaliate, and adam thinks that is truly not fair when ronan knows he can't keep up. ]
That was uncalled for, I'm wearing green. [ look, if ronan's going to pinch him, adam's going to make some reference to the ever famous leprechauns. he's asking for it.
without thinking about the technical aspects of flying, he zips after ronan, lacking the same finesse and nearly knocking himself off balance, but regaining it all without ronan's help. somehow, he manages enough confidence in his posture and balance to reach out a hand, hoping to get to ronan before he zooms away again. ]
[ for a second, ronan is so shocked and pleased by adam chasing him that he almost forgets to react. for a second after that, he thinks about letting adam catch him. gansey would call it positive reinforcement. a reward for finding the confidence to let go of the handle with one hand, of which ronan is actually very proud.
but right before adam reaches him, he shoots a few more feet into the air, once again out of reach.
this is the best way to learn to fly. technique is important, but more important is learning to let go of fear and inhibitions. it's acknowledging the possibility of falling but finding the freedom and sheer exhilaration of flying to be worth the risk. ronan won't admit it, possibly not even to himself, not until much later, but the main reason he wanted to teach adam to fly was because he feels like he's the best version of himself when he's flying, and he wanted adam to see it. not just see it, but experience it for himself and find that same freedom and exhilaration. he wanted to share the thing he loves most with the person he.
well. ]
You're always wearing green, [ he calls down, the grin audible in his voice. ] And I'm Irish so I get a free pass. [ because that's obviously the way it works. ]
[ of course adam hadn't expected to catch ronan, given the other's flying skills. but if he had caught him, he'd have known ronan had let him, and while that thought might have frustrated and angered him (had the person flying out of his reach been someone else) it raises something different in adam coming from ronan.
adam starts to speed up on the broom, only to remember he's holding on with a single hand. he looks down to grip the handle again, but that gives him a plain view of the ground below. he's fairly sure he can feel some of the color drain from his face. ]
Gansey might buy that but I'm not going to. [ he calls, as if bantering might make him forget the vertiginous heights they're at. it's not even that high, in truth, compared to how high quidditch games are played. but anything that is "feet off the ground" is too high in adam parrish's standards.
he's gripping the broom too tightly again. he can't seem to make himself relax. he looks up at ronan, the way he handles adam's shitty and rotten broom, the much sleeker feel of ronan's in his hands. this isn't for nothing, he thinks to himself. he's not going to let ronan's gift go to waste. so he takes a deep breath zips toward ronan, his heart hammering in his chest and every inch of his body, every one of his instincts telling him he's going to die. the fear is dizzying because it's so instinctual, feels so natural.
the speed of the broom doesn't even reach a fourth of the speed ronan usually flies with, and yet when adam comes near ronan he's got a frantic hand reaching for the other's arm. adam's breath is coming out a little too hard and fast for him to be completely relaxed. ]
I didn't know you were a fucking expert on leprechauns.
[ his tone is laden with sarcasm, but at the same time he wouldn't put it past adam to have more knowledge on the subject than any student should. he studies harder than anyone else, like he's fighting for his right to be here, something that nearly all of their peers take for granted. something that ronan takes for granted and even openly derides on a regular basis. by all mandates of logic, adam should hate him. in the beginning, ronan's pretty sure adam did hate him, or at least he found him intolerable, and the feeling was pretty much mutual.
now, ronan can't even remember what it felt like to dislike adam parrish. he never wants to remember, either. he doesn't want to go back to a time when he couldn't ask adam to meet him on the quidditch pitch on a whim, to a time when adam wouldn't agree without question.
as adam comes towards again, ronan doesn't leap out of reach. ] No promises. [ and yet when adam gets close enough, rather than pinching him ronan reaches out and clasps adam's hand in his.
he gives a little tug, dragging adam towards him until their knees knock. this close, he can see the freckles on adam's cheeks even in the dying light; he can feel the tension wound through him like he'd been partially petrified. ] I got you, [ he says, softer than he'd intended – if he'd intended to say it at all – but that could be due to forgetting how to breathe. ]
[ any smart quip dies on his lips when ronan takes his hand. it's not what he'd expected. the gentleness of the words takes him aback, as ronan's gentleness always does. it's the side of ronan that really shakes things up in him, makes his stomach churn and his thoughts, carefully ordered, fall in disarray.
their knees knock. he can see how blue ronan's eyes are. his hand clasps ronan's back, instead of just being held. now his heart is beating fast but for an entirely different reason. he's also forgotten that they're feet up in the air. ]
Thanks. [ it's quiet, said in an exhale. his eyes haven't left ronan's. adam's tie flaps with a sudden gust of wind and whips at his shoulder. he's not entirely sure he's only thanking ronan for grabbing hold of him. it wasn't even necessary — he hadn't been falling. he'd just been afraid.
it's easy to let ronan make him feel better about that. easier than with anyone else, because ronan isn't trying to control his reaction or indicate how he should feel, right in this moment. he doesn't let go of ronan's hand, but grips it tightly, like he doesn't want him to let go either. ]
I was handling it. [ there's no argument in the words, though. they're just to say something. to do something more than just gawk at ronan and hold his hand. ]
[ that adam thanks him and clasps his hand tightly in return makes ronan glad he did it. he'd acted on instinct, but that's been known to land him in trouble more than once. apparently – fortunately – this isn't one of those times.
it's not that he thought adam was going to fall; his fear had just been so palpable ronan couldn't help himself. maybe if he didn't want adam to be afraid he shouldn't have had them do a flying lesson, but he doesn't think this is a bad kind of fear. it's the kind that builds you up rather than breaks you down. he doesn't think adam would've agreed to it if he didn't, at least a little bit, feel the same way.
maybe he was wrong and this was a terrible idea, but adam doesn't seem to be backing down so ronan won't, either.
besides, they're still holding hands. ]
I know you were, Parrish. [ he can't help grinning, and it's softer than his usual grin, just like his tone is softer than his usual tone. he's sitting perfectly still, keeping his balance like a pro, nothing to belie how his heart is clamoring. he hopes his palm isn't sweaty. ] Hang on.
[ he backs up his (adam's) broom, pulling adam with him so it's like adam is moving forward. he goes slow at first, but gradually builds speed and urges them just a little higher. by the time they stop again, they're another foot or so in the air, and ronan still hasn't let go of adam's hand. ]
[ the way they build speed and rise in height like that freezes adam's mouth shut. no wry humour about what they're doing or the fact that their hands are clasped as they do it.
it's also the realisation that he trusts ronan not to let him fall to his death. adam's trust is hard earned, but it comes as somewhat of a shock to himself that ronan has earned so much of his. with the little things he does for adam, here and there. in part, also, because he's as fiercely protective of their friends as adam.
not looking down is easier to do when he's watching ronan's face. there's something in his expression when he flies that adam likes, and would like to see more often. he wonders if he could make ronan look like that, and then quickly discards the thought before he makes himself fall off his broom. ]
How high are we? I'm not looking down. [ there's some unsteadiness in the way he sits on the broom, but whenever it happens, he holds onto ronan's hand a little tighter for a second and seems to relax and steady himself on his own. ]
[ as much as adam values ronan's trust, ronan values adam's just as much. he might seem reckless and devil-may-care most of the time, and he's certainly been known to gamble with his own life, but he protects the things, the people he cares about. he recognizes that adam is trusting him not to let him fall, and that's a responsibility ronan doesn't take lightly.
still, they're supposed to be having fun, so he doesn't lose his air of levity either. he hopes that appearing relaxed will help adam relax, too. it's clear from the way adam keeps squeezing his hand that's it not completely successful, but maybe it's partially successful.
he keeps his eyes on adam's, even though it makes his pulse trip over itself. he's become so used to hiding his staring that to do it openly feels like something he shouldn't be doing. he's trying not to let it show; focusing on flying helps. still, it's possible that whatever adam sees in his face has as much to do with adam's presence as it does with flying itself. ]
Let's just say you could look up a giant's nose from this height.
[ if adam knows his giant facts, which ronan would bet he does, he'd know that means they're about twenty feet up. compared to how high ronan usually flies, they're barely off the ground. he urges his broom backwards, pulling adam forward again, flying in a slow, wide circle. ]
If I let go, you think you can handle it?
[ he tries to phrase it like a challenge, and maybe he succeeds, but there's a thread of genuine concern running through it that he might not be able to completely conceal. for whatever reason, ronan finds he doesn't really want to let go. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
but ronan is fairly positive adam hasn't touched a broom since their first year. since gryffindors and slytherins had class together, ronan was there to witness adam's first faltering attempts at flying. he'd be lying if he said he hadn't found it funny. but when the teacher's back was turned and kavinsky took to taunting adam in the most distasteful ways he knew how at eleven years-old, ronan found that less funny. he told himself it had more to do with a dislike for kavinsky than any nascent feelings of friendship for adam. either way, before ronan knew what he was doing, he'd opened his mouth and shouted, "hey kavinsky! last one to the forbidden forest eats dragon shit." kavinsky forgot all about adam after that.
gansey was less than pleased by ronan and kavinsky's resulting detention. ronan never bothered trying to explain himself. he wasn't even sure he could if he tried.
it doesn't matter now. what matters is that they're more than halfway through their schooling and adam is still terrible at flying. he apparently knows everything there is to know about the complicated mechanics of muggle cars, but broomsticks mystify (or terrify) him. so that morning, ronan tells adam to meet him at the training pitch after dinner. he knows for a fact none of the teams will be practicing and they'll have the field to themselves. there aren't any seats at the practice pitch for spectators or enemy spies.
the sun is fading over the horizon by the time ronan gets to the pitch. while he waits for adam, he gets on his broom, a sleek black racing broom that belonged to his father, and zips around the field a few times. ]
no subject
also, brooms are expensive, and adam could only afford a used, half-way to broken one. he's worked on it, of course, charmed it with safety charms, spells to keep it's tip from fraying, varnish charms to keep the handle from giving him splinters. but it still looks old. adam had been ashamed to take it out.
then the flying itself had been terrifying and exhilarating, but mostly terrifying. being up in the air with seeming nothing holding him down, with the ground getting farther and farther, promising a fall that could break bones, was not a comfortable place for adam to find himself. he likes his feet on solid ground. he likes to know he's completely in control of his movement, and already struggles with feeling that way inside his own body. on a broom, who knows what could happen. someone else could hex it, the charms could unravel themselves, it could simply break.
so no, he hasn't touched his broom since the lessons of their first year. had someone else asked adam to meet him at the pitch, adam would not even have bothered bringing the broom. it's ronan, though, and ronan has become a sort of exception to the rule for a lot of things. adam has always admired the way ronan flies, like he belongs up there, like he's completely in charge of what's going on, like he's afraid of nothing at all.
maybe he can contaminate adam with enough of that for him to manage to take off and do a few laps.
before making his presence known on the pitch, adam watches ronan and his broom fly over the field. there's something in ronan's face when he flies that makes adam's heart stutter a little, and instead of staying starstruck a moment longer, he walks within view, craning his head to keep his eyes on ronan. ]
You have one hour! [ one hour to try and make adam go from useless to somewhat capable. ]
no subject
ronan sees adam approaching the pitch well before he calls up to him. it's possible he keeps flying around for another minute or two just to show off. he doesn't know exactly when he started wanting to impress adam parrish, but there's no denying the way his heart speeds up as adam watches him. he spirals through the air one more time before diving to the ground, slowing and pulling up to dismount a few feet from adam.
he grins, shark-like. ] You got a date, Parrish?
[ it's meant as a joke, but ronan immediately regrets saying it. he looks at the ground as he gets in position, like he couldn't mount a broom in his sleep. once he's willed away the uneasy feeling in his stomach, he raises his gaze to adam again. ]
All right. Hop on that limp tree branch you call a broom. Try to get off the ground at least, so I can see what I'm working with.
no subject
but this isn't what they're here for. ]
If you can call Potions homework a date.
[ as far as adam parrish is concerned, his free time at hogwarts is spent studying and doing extracurricular work and helping gansey with his search. since the blue thing, he hasn't given dating as much thought.
adam's hands grip his broom as he gets on, and this is the part where he falters. his eyes are focused down, but he looks up briefly at ronan, as if to say "i know you'll laugh if i fall but please try to contain yourself". then he's up. barely above the ground, but enough that his feet are no longer on it. it's about as much as he can do, and his hands are already white knuckled around the handle of the broom. it shudders beneath him, and he goes tense either to still himself or brace himself for a fall. the latter doesn't happen, and the broom balances out again. ]
You're a miracle worker. I've learned enough. [ it's said in his usual wry tone, a joke, considering he's not making movement to get off the broom. instead, he looks at ronan. what next? ]
no subject
I wouldn't, but you probably would.
[ after that, ronan very deliberately does not think about what he would call a date. how it might look a little like what they're doing now.
but that's not why he invited adam out here. this is just a flying lesson between friends, and if adam does wind up falling, ronan will definitely laugh. it's hard enough not to laugh as adam grips the broom like his life depends on it when he's barely a foot off the ground. the kinder side of him, which is normally buried deep, deep down, remembers what it was like when he first learned how to ride a broom. the ground seemed pretty far when he was seven. ]
Not a chance. [ ronan kicks off the grass and pulls up next to adam, so they're facing opposite directions. with one hand on his broom, he reaches over with the other and wraps his fingers around adam's wrist, gently trying to loosen his death grip. ] Stop strangling it. These things can smell fear.
[ not true, strictly speaking. but ronan thinks it's good to keep in mind all the same. ]
Hold on with your legs, not your hands, and balance from the waist. And relax. You're not going to get hurt this close to the ground, loser.
no subject
[ good thing, too, or adam wouldn't fly one for all the galleons of the wizarding world.
adam frowns, but it's not a frown of annoyance or anger at ronan. more a frustration with himself, for managing to handle every other form of magic except this one. for being afraid of it in a way that makes him feel like a child. he wants to listen to what ronan is saying and believe it. rationally, he knows he can't hurt himself falling off a broom that's less than 3 feet off the ground. but his body's tense and telling him otherwise. his body is tense and refusing to give control over to an object that feels almost alive.
but ronan's fingers around his wrist are alive, too, and adam has found more and more that he trusts those hands and the person they belong to.
so his grip relaxes. going from white knuckled to a more relaxed hold. he stops holding his back stiff, too, shifting that attention to holding onto the broom with his legs and finding balance in his middle. the broom doesn't shake once, but he's not about to think this means anything. ]
Should I go higher?
[ it's a strangely unsure question. adam rarely relies on anyone else to learn what he wants to learn, but here he turns to ronan for guidance, maybe in a show of trust, maybe because adam doesn't care about flying enough to have bothered doing this with anyone else. ]
no subject
but then a small swell of pride rises in his chest when adam listens to him, adjusting his grip and his center of balance. ronan doesn't often get the chance to play teacher to his friends. adam and gansey and even blue outstrip him in most subjects, largely due to them actually giving a shit about their grades. gansey, and occasionally adam and blue, help him do damage control when he reaches a critical point where he might fail out of school. but flying is one of the few places where ronan has authority over the others, and it's oddly gratifying to be on the other end of things for once. when it first occurred to ronan to teach adam to fly, he hadn't been sure how well it would go over. he hadn't been sure how easily adam would listen to him or if they'd be able to get through the whole lesson without an explosive argument. the first concern seems to be unfounded; the second remains a possibility, as it always does with them.
once adam appears to have things under control, ronan puts some space between them by leaning back. he considers the question. ]
Sure. You know how to do that, right?
[ he demonstrates, giving the front of his broom a tug as he straightens his back and lengthens his spine. his racing broom responds accordingly, rising another couple of feet into the air. brooms might not be sentient, but ronan's father's broom handles so well it seems almost attuned to him. adam's broom probably won't be as cooperative, but ronan's prepared to instruct him on how to deal with it. ]
no subject
which, as adam imitates ronan on his broom and raises higher, he wonders why he agreed to at all. he has so many other things to do, books to read, homework to write, a best friend needing a kind of support adam has yet to be sure he can provide, thoughts of the quest and what jobs he'll be able to get back this summer and if he wants a career path in the wizarding world or stick to a muggle future.
yet he's here, with ronan, letting him teach him something he's had on inclination or need to learn.
it's not as smooth a climb as ronan's, far from it, but he does stop manage to reach ronan's height with no major imbalances. only a bit of wavering, after which he repeats ronan's words in his head: hold on with your hands. balance from the waist. relax. it helps, and adam keeps his eyes firmly fixed on ronan if only to avoid keeping them locked on the distance between himself and the ground. if he looks down, he might be sick. ]
I'm not completely useless. [ he says, like his hands aren't gripping the broom handle too tightly again. ]
no subject
besides, adam needs the fresh air. it's far too easy for him to hole himself up in the library or the dungeons and lose track of time with his books and parchment. honestly, ronan is being altruistic here.
he watches adam wobble up to his level, one corner of his mouth lifting into a grin. ]
We'll see, Parrish. [ but it sounds like not bad.
the way adam's hands are choking the handle again doesn't go unnoticed. ronan sits back slightly, gripping the broom entirely with his thighs as he crosses his arms over his chest. see? that's how easy it should be. ]
Now come forward. And loosen your fucking grip, or I'll do it for you.
[ which, if ronan's completely honest with himself, he kind of wants to do anyway. ]
no subject
he looks so relaxed on his broom, it's actually kind of attractive. adam immediately chucks the thought away in order to come forward, loosening his grip but only slightly. the forward movement is slow, but it's dizzying to move without having your feet on the ground and empty air all around you.
he wants to say i hope you know i hate every minute of this but it's simply not true. he does not hate being with ronan. ]
I don't know how you do this so often in the first place, but I really don't know how you do this while whacking bludgers.
hhhhh that icon
he grins, because he knows adam doesn't hate this as much as he'd like ronan to think. ]
What can I say? I have a gift. [ as adam draws closer, ronan glides backwards, curving slightly to the left. he beckons adam with one hand, silent encouragement for him to follow, to see if they can complete a full circle without adam falling off. ] And it's the only time I get to knock people off their brooms without risking expulsion.
[ that's probably got more to do with it than any natural talent. gansey hadn't been wrong about quidditch being a good outlet for his aggression, but ronan's not about to tell gansey that. ]
slytherin adam 4 life
it's why he keeps his gaze locked on ronan's face. it gives him something to look at that isn't down. and something he likes looking at. ]
I dry the line at flying, by the way. You are not teaching me to play.
[ he doesn't think ronan intended to, but it feels important to point out. once he's in the sky, he's not going to start letting go of his broom to catch anything or whack anything.
the broom shudders again as his grip tightens too much, shuddering forward. adam curses at the sudden burst of speed, his shoulders hunched tensely even once the broom slows again. ]
a-men
[ it's then that adam's broom acts out. without realizing it, ronan puts both hands on his own handle, prepared to rush forward if needed. fortunately the spasm subsides, but ronan is still eyeing adam's broom warily. ]
Piece of shit, [ he says under his breath. even though things seem fine now, aside from adam's too-tight grip and defensive posture, ronan closes the distance between them anyway.
but rather than trying to loosen adam's hold again, he gestures to the ground. ] Come on. [ pointing his broom down, he lowers himself to the field, dismounts, and waits for adam to join him. then, he holds out his father's racing broom. ]
Here. It's going to take you ten years to learn to fly on that. [ and they have less than an hour left. ]
notices an awful typo in my other tag, SCREAMS AND LAUNCHES INTO THE SUN
but he knows he felt it. and that it's not the first time.
he sets to follow ronan instead of lingering on that for now, landing not so gracefully next to him, but at least he's on his feet and the broom is still in his hands. when ronan holds out the broom, adam looks at it as if not comprehending.
why does that send another thrill through him, that ronan wants him to use his broom? it's one of his most prized possessions, isn't it? and he would trust adam, who can barely fly at all, not to wreck it? adam reaches a hand toward the broom, then closes his fingers around it. he just holds it for a second, and then looks into ronan's face. quietly asking are you sure? ]
I could borrow one from the school. [ but they both know those are in even worst state than adam's. ]
DRAGS YOU BACK
he wouldn't be pulling a face now, like he knows adam knows what he just said was perfectly stupid. ]
What, is mine not good enough for you? [ it's a deliberate misunderstanding of adam's hesitance, and they both know it. ronan lets go of his own broom so adam's forced to take it and grabs adam's broom instead.
it should feel strange, relinquishing his father's broom. but it doesn't. maybe he doesn't think adam's good enough to pull a stunt that would wreck it; he won't be flying too high or too fast, not if adam has a say in it. maybe he's not concerned because he'll be watching adam the whole time. or maybe it speaks to how much ronan has grown to trust adam, saying more than words ever could.
before he can second-guess his decision, ronan kicks off on adam's broom and rises about ten feet in the air. the broom wobbles slightly, resisting the speed with which he took off. but with a little effort and a lot of swearing, ronan wrestles it under his control in a matter of seconds. he peers down at adam. ]
You know, anyone else would kill to be in your shoes, Parrish. [ ronan's broom, which bears no identifiable brand except for the initials NL in flourishing gold letters, is the envy of every quidditch and broom enthusiast at school. ]
no subject
he'd actually like having both, and keeping both, if possible.
so he doesn't protest and mounts the broom. ]
I know. [ he says, because it's true. everyone envies ronan's broom. adam will now know he's privileged to have tried it.
it handles completely differently from his own, so much so that when he rises up, it's too fast and too high, and he lets out a strangled sound of dismay. if his grip hadn't been so tight on the broom itself he would have reached out for ronan, which adds to his furious embarrassment. the broom steadies itself when he stops being so tense, though, just above ronan, his foot near his head.
adam breathes out a half relieved, half frustrated fuck. then calls but without looking down. ]
If I die, you don't get my chocolate frog cards collection.
no subject
he would've cared if adam had turned down his broom. it's not like the other things he gives adam, which are designed specifically for adam. this is ronan trusting adam with a piece of himself, and he didn't even think before doing it. if adam had turned it down, ronan definitely would've thought twice next time.
fortunately, that's not the case here. adam takes the broom and a spot of warmth blooms in ronan's chest. his stomach does something acrobatic and affectionate, and as adam shoots up past him, he laughs. a thrill runs through him again to hear adam swear. ]
Who does then? You know Gansey only cares about the Glendower cards.
[ grinning, ronan reaches up and slips his fingers under adam's pant leg to pinch his ankle. then, before adam can retaliate, if it even crosses his mind, ronan zips out of reach. ]
no subject
Noah. He deserves them. [ he opens his mouth to say something else, but then ronan's pinching his ankle, and his foot gives a jerk, and ronan's moving out of reach before adam can retaliate, and adam thinks that is truly not fair when ronan knows he can't keep up. ]
That was uncalled for, I'm wearing green. [ look, if ronan's going to pinch him, adam's going to make some reference to the ever famous leprechauns. he's asking for it.
without thinking about the technical aspects of flying, he zips after ronan, lacking the same finesse and nearly knocking himself off balance, but regaining it all without ronan's help. somehow, he manages enough confidence in his posture and balance to reach out a hand, hoping to get to ronan before he zooms away again. ]
no subject
but right before adam reaches him, he shoots a few more feet into the air, once again out of reach.
this is the best way to learn to fly. technique is important, but more important is learning to let go of fear and inhibitions. it's acknowledging the possibility of falling but finding the freedom and sheer exhilaration of flying to be worth the risk. ronan won't admit it, possibly not even to himself, not until much later, but the main reason he wanted to teach adam to fly was because he feels like he's the best version of himself when he's flying, and he wanted adam to see it. not just see it, but experience it for himself and find that same freedom and exhilaration. he wanted to share the thing he loves most with the person he.
well. ]
You're always wearing green, [ he calls down, the grin audible in his voice. ] And I'm Irish so I get a free pass. [ because that's obviously the way it works. ]
no subject
adam starts to speed up on the broom, only to remember he's holding on with a single hand. he looks down to grip the handle again, but that gives him a plain view of the ground below. he's fairly sure he can feel some of the color drain from his face. ]
Gansey might buy that but I'm not going to. [ he calls, as if bantering might make him forget the vertiginous heights they're at. it's not even that high, in truth, compared to how high quidditch games are played. but anything that is "feet off the ground" is too high in adam parrish's standards.
he's gripping the broom too tightly again. he can't seem to make himself relax. he looks up at ronan, the way he handles adam's shitty and rotten broom, the much sleeker feel of ronan's in his hands. this isn't for nothing, he thinks to himself. he's not going to let ronan's gift go to waste. so he takes a deep breath zips toward ronan, his heart hammering in his chest and every inch of his body, every one of his instincts telling him he's going to die. the fear is dizzying because it's so instinctual, feels so natural.
the speed of the broom doesn't even reach a fourth of the speed ronan usually flies with, and yet when adam comes near ronan he's got a frantic hand reaching for the other's arm. adam's breath is coming out a little too hard and fast for him to be completely relaxed. ]
No. Pinching.
no subject
[ his tone is laden with sarcasm, but at the same time he wouldn't put it past adam to have more knowledge on the subject than any student should. he studies harder than anyone else, like he's fighting for his right to be here, something that nearly all of their peers take for granted. something that ronan takes for granted and even openly derides on a regular basis. by all mandates of logic, adam should hate him. in the beginning, ronan's pretty sure adam did hate him, or at least he found him intolerable, and the feeling was pretty much mutual.
now, ronan can't even remember what it felt like to dislike adam parrish. he never wants to remember, either. he doesn't want to go back to a time when he couldn't ask adam to meet him on the quidditch pitch on a whim, to a time when adam wouldn't agree without question.
as adam comes towards again, ronan doesn't leap out of reach. ] No promises. [ and yet when adam gets close enough, rather than pinching him ronan reaches out and clasps adam's hand in his.
he gives a little tug, dragging adam towards him until their knees knock. this close, he can see the freckles on adam's cheeks even in the dying light; he can feel the tension wound through him like he'd been partially petrified. ] I got you, [ he says, softer than he'd intended – if he'd intended to say it at all – but that could be due to forgetting how to breathe. ]
no subject
their knees knock. he can see how blue ronan's eyes are. his hand clasps ronan's back, instead of just being held. now his heart is beating fast but for an entirely different reason. he's also forgotten that they're feet up in the air. ]
Thanks. [ it's quiet, said in an exhale. his eyes haven't left ronan's. adam's tie flaps with a sudden gust of wind and whips at his shoulder. he's not entirely sure he's only thanking ronan for grabbing hold of him. it wasn't even necessary — he hadn't been falling. he'd just been afraid.
it's easy to let ronan make him feel better about that. easier than with anyone else, because ronan isn't trying to control his reaction or indicate how he should feel, right in this moment. he doesn't let go of ronan's hand, but grips it tightly, like he doesn't want him to let go either. ]
I was handling it. [ there's no argument in the words, though. they're just to say something. to do something more than just gawk at ronan and hold his hand. ]
no subject
it's not that he thought adam was going to fall; his fear had just been so palpable ronan couldn't help himself. maybe if he didn't want adam to be afraid he shouldn't have had them do a flying lesson, but he doesn't think this is a bad kind of fear. it's the kind that builds you up rather than breaks you down. he doesn't think adam would've agreed to it if he didn't, at least a little bit, feel the same way.
maybe he was wrong and this was a terrible idea, but adam doesn't seem to be backing down so ronan won't, either.
besides, they're still holding hands. ]
I know you were, Parrish. [ he can't help grinning, and it's softer than his usual grin, just like his tone is softer than his usual tone. he's sitting perfectly still, keeping his balance like a pro, nothing to belie how his heart is clamoring. he hopes his palm isn't sweaty. ] Hang on.
[ he backs up his (adam's) broom, pulling adam with him so it's like adam is moving forward. he goes slow at first, but gradually builds speed and urges them just a little higher. by the time they stop again, they're another foot or so in the air, and ronan still hasn't let go of adam's hand. ]
no subject
it's also the realisation that he trusts ronan not to let him fall to his death. adam's trust is hard earned, but it comes as somewhat of a shock to himself that ronan has earned so much of his. with the little things he does for adam, here and there. in part, also, because he's as fiercely protective of their friends as adam.
not looking down is easier to do when he's watching ronan's face. there's something in his expression when he flies that adam likes, and would like to see more often. he wonders if he could make ronan look like that, and then quickly discards the thought before he makes himself fall off his broom. ]
How high are we? I'm not looking down. [ there's some unsteadiness in the way he sits on the broom, but whenever it happens, he holds onto ronan's hand a little tighter for a second and seems to relax and steady himself on his own. ]
no subject
still, they're supposed to be having fun, so he doesn't lose his air of levity either. he hopes that appearing relaxed will help adam relax, too. it's clear from the way adam keeps squeezing his hand that's it not completely successful, but maybe it's partially successful.
he keeps his eyes on adam's, even though it makes his pulse trip over itself. he's become so used to hiding his staring that to do it openly feels like something he shouldn't be doing. he's trying not to let it show; focusing on flying helps. still, it's possible that whatever adam sees in his face has as much to do with adam's presence as it does with flying itself. ]
Let's just say you could look up a giant's nose from this height.
[ if adam knows his giant facts, which ronan would bet he does, he'd know that means they're about twenty feet up. compared to how high ronan usually flies, they're barely off the ground. he urges his broom backwards, pulling adam forward again, flying in a slow, wide circle. ]
If I let go, you think you can handle it?
[ he tries to phrase it like a challenge, and maybe he succeeds, but there's a thread of genuine concern running through it that he might not be able to completely conceal. for whatever reason, ronan finds he doesn't really want to let go. ]