#and Ronan immediately went back to day drinking and trying to kill himself

[clotpolesonly]

what'd'ya think are the odds that Declan was actually the #1 suspect in Niall's murder, full investigation and interrogations and everything, and Ronan just. missed that memo

[ageeksnerdyworld]

Guy’s Night

Characters: Jett Leach, Emery Becker, Kelly Ronan O’Connor

Word Count: 6,386

Trigger Warning: Swearing, Drinking, Bar Fight

Notes: Wrote out another one of those random ideas that often get stuck in my head. As always the Cyber World and the viruses therein belong to @voiceoflarka

Summary: One night the boys find themselves alone in the dorm. Instead of spending the night in the trio decides to go out. Drinks are drained, laughs are had, and shenanigans ensue. Confessions are said and long awaited secrets are spilled. Click the read more if you’d like.

~~~

The day was slowly bleeding into night as the sun began to set. Streams of sunlight, that came through the windows, diminished with the movement. On any given night like this the place was practically packed with its eight residents and various visitors. All manner of raucous from inside could be heard far down the hall. Time and again the group had been harassed by their downstairs neighbors. But on this night the dorm was far too quiet. Quiet and strangely empty. Only two members of the group, who called this place a second home, were inside its walls.

As far as they knew they were the only ones who didn’t have another place to call home.

Jett sat on the couch in front of the TV.

Sitting was putting it lightly.

His body was half on the couch cushion and half on the floor. Slumped in heap of boredom. His tail swished idly at his side. Both of his arms hung down on either side of him. Even the way his clothes, black jeans, a gray and red hoodie, hung off his body echoed his deep boredom. He didn’t even bother to put his hair up so it gathered around his shoulders. It was an odd sight to see. But the strangest part of Jett’s appearance was the fact that he was upside-down.

Emery sat next to him; cross-legged on the cushion.

His mohawk was bright, shockingly so, purple. A light gray tee, with the sleeves haphazardly cut off and a skeletal looking butterfly, covered his torso. He wore a pair of red tartan patterned pants. Mismatched patches, clearly from other articles of clothing, were sewn over the various sized holes. The jean jacket he had worn earlier was hanging on the back of the sofa. His collection of tattoos that covered his shoulders and arms were on full display. Emery’s face was a crinkled mess of confusion and concentration. A controller sat in his hands and he aggressively pushed its buttons.

"Bored."

"Shuddup bro," Emery snapped. "I'm trying to kill this boss."

"Booooooored," he continued to drone on as he slowly slid off the couch.

Suddenly the front door of the dorm slammed open with a loud bang. Kelly stormed through the door; fuming mad. He wore a dark burgundy bomber jacket, a white tee, and blue jeans. His brows furrowed deeply and red colored his normally pale cheeks. Kelly's dark gray veins pulsed brightly with the angry energy. He paced the floor in front of the door before slamming it closed. Leaning his back against the door his left leg bounced up and down.

"Fuckity fuckin' fuck fuck!"

"What's got your panties in a twist, Irish?" Emery asked; eyes still focused on the screen in front of him.

"Avia's gone."

Jett shot up and moved into a regular sitting position. He felt the sudden rush of confusion, worry, and fear. That mix of emotions made Kelly shake his head and put his hands. As he did so he explained the situation as best he could at a rapid pace. Halfway through his lengthy ramble he pulled his beanie off and ruffled his hair.

"No, no, no. It's not like that, Je. She is gone because she’s not here ‘least I don’t think so but it’s not in the way ye thinkin'. She's not abducted or anythin'. Well... technically she’s alright. Maybe? Yes. Wait... No? All I know is she didn't want to go, ye understand? She wanted me to come along but, ye know, it's her da. Éan beag can't say no."

Jett sighed and sunk back into the couch.

Kelly twisted his beanie in his hands as he took up the pacing once more. He mindlessly started to walk to the kitchen. Halfway there he stopped and backtracked to Avia’s room. But he didn’t go in. Instead he stood there for a minute; staring off into space. Fiddling with the zipper of his jacket he pulled it up and down repeatedly. Eventually he swore under his breath and turned around.

He walked to the others and plopped down in the empty space on the sofa.

The three teenage boys sat in almost total silence, save for the sounds from the TV, for quite some time. Emery was too focused on his game to care about anything else. Jett was half watching the gameplay and half checking his social media accounts. Kelly sat with his arms crossed, an angry scowl on his face, and his leg restlessly bouncing. Every once in a while he'd pull out his phone and look through it. But each time there was nothing new. He returned it to his jacket pocket and went back to fuming.

To no one's surprise Kelly broke the silence first.

"Where's everybody else?"

"It's date night for Holl and Kal, remember? And..." Jett said.

"Shit!" Emery shouted in frustration, as his character died yet again, breaking Jett's train of thought. He tossed the controller onto the coffee table with an annoyed sigh.

"Scribe dragged Isabelle to some boring ass lecture 'bout, uh, paleontology or whatever."

Jett nodded; "Yeah and Walker Texas Ranger's... Well, uh, I have no clue what they're doing."

"So," Kelly said with a mischievously raised eyebrow, "it's just us three?"

"Fucking obviously, Irish."

Kelly ignored the comment and slammed his hands on his knees. He stood up with an excited fervor. The others looked at him with slight confusion. Kelly was always a beanpole of energy, but, this was sudden. Not to mention the fact that he busted through the door furious.

"Off yer arses, boys," he said loudly.

They both rose off the couch with confused hesitation. Jett looked to Emery who only shrugged in response. So he turned his attention to Kelly; the source of his confusion. He could sense that the three of them were heading out and even though he didn’t know where, or why, Jett reached into the left hand pocket of his jeans and pulled out a thin, red, ribbon. As he gathered his hair together and tied the ribbon around it he gave Kelly a sideways glance.

"Where’re we going? What’s this about?"

"You'll see," he said with a smile and a wink.

~~~

Kelly led the others through the dark city streets. He dodged every question that was tossed his way. Eventually both of them gave up and let the man keep his secrets. Every so often he'd look back at them; smiling wide. His intense blue eyes shone brightly with overflowing energy that was also reflected in the glow of his dark gray veins.

After some time the trio reached their destination.

"Shit on a shiitake my feet hurt," Emery whined when they approached the bar.

The bar sat peacefully on the corner of an intersection. A pair of bouncers stood on either side of the front entrance. Sharp and almost blindingly bright lights hung high above the entrance. The flashy colors cut through the dark. Lights that formed the name of the bar; The Corner Pocket.

The bouncer nodded to Kelly and let the three teens in. Emery shot him a confused look. Kelly just shrugged and continued on in. While the other two began looking for an open table Jett pushed past them.

Clearly searching for an exit.

"Dude, where you going? We basically just fucking got here, man." Emery said.

"Heading out for a smoke," Jett replied as he pulled a carton from the hidden zipper pocket in his hoodie.

"We'll save ye a seat," Kelly said. "If we ever find one. Shite, this place is packed tighter than a whore's arse runnin’ a bloody two for one special on a Friday."

"Hurry back, dude," Emery said with an annoyed look on his face.

While Jett made his way to the rear exit the others looked for a place to sit. The bar was crowded with patrons, waiters, and a couple security people. Even though most of the patrons were seated throughout the bar the front was still crowded. It was very obvious that the three bartenders on staff were having a hard time keeping up with everything. Kelly looked above the crowds; scanning the area. Emery took a more hands on approach and weaseled his way through the crowds.

Kelly was exactly where he left him when Emery came back a few minutes later.

"Found an empty booth sorta in the back. It's shitty but it's probably as good as we're gonna get."

Meanwhile Jett was now outside; having made it out the back exit. The night was dark but he wasn't taking any chances so he moved some hair over his eyes. Just as an extra precaution he flipped his hood up. In recent months he felt better obscuring his face from strangers. People didn't approach him that way. People didn't try to make small talk or crowd around him.

Tapping the carton against his open palm he nudged a cigarette out of the box. Grabbing it with two fingers he immediately put the filtered end in his mouth.

Digging into his pocket he returned the carton. Jett thought about lighting the cigarette himself. He could create fire, after all, so why not? Just as he was about to try he thought better of it. There was no telling what could happen. He could do what he wanted; light a small flame on his finger.

Or nothing happens, his conscious whispered.

Maybe you shoot out a massive fireball and hurt a lot of people. Maybe somebody dies. Again. Or you set yourself on fire and burn all your clothes off. Then you'd be buck naked, in an alley, outside a bar, alone, in the middle of the night.

Despite everything he still didn't have a good handle on his power. No. Because of everything that happened, and the nightmares that followed, he couldn't control it. There were too many risks.

So he reached back into the pocket inside his hoodie and pulled out a lighter. It was one of the cheap plastic ones grocery stores sell at an insane discount. The plastic was blue and semi-translucent so he could see the lighter fluid inside. There wasn't much left.

Hope this works.

Luckily he managed to get a flame going on the second try. Lighting the cigarette he took a long drag. When he pulled the cigarette out of his mouth he let the smoke flow from his lips. Just before the smoke dissipated into the night he took a sharp inhale. The small cloud of smoke filled his nostrils and his lungs. He sighed and returned the cigarette to his mouth. Standing with his back against the wall he stared out into the night.

Back inside Kelly followed Emery through the mass of bodies. His eyes darted around; looking for a waiter or waitress. There were quite a few around thanks to the obviously busy night. He tried to get the attention of whoever made the slightest bit of eye contact. Just before they reached the booth in question Kelly managed to flag down someone.

He ordered a vodka tonic for himself and a beer for Emery.

Just as the two teens sat at their table a loud, male, voice cut through the music. It sounded close by. Or at least close enough to be heard.

"Lemme get you another drink," the voice said.

Emery heard the voice first and nudged Kelly with his elbow. Across from where they sat, at one of the tables, was a pair of young women. One had tan skin, long brown hair, and an intricate tattoo on her shoulder. The other had a silvery dress on and a short, angled, pastel purple bob.

A male satyr virus was standing in between the ladies. It was obvious that he was the voice they had heard. It seemed as if the man didn’t care to hide his unwanted flirtations from the other patrons. He had long, curved, black horns on either side of his head. They were a sharp contrast from his blonde hair and goatee. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up haphazardly and a large wine stain splattered the front. Despite his clear drunkenness he somehow managed to stay standing. He had a clear look of lust in his eyes and his bright pineapple yellow veins pulsed with anticipation. And even though the women weren't having it he wouldn't back off.

"Fucking creep should leave 'em alone," Emery muttered to Kelly just as the waiter set their drinks down.

"You know," the satyr loudly whispered to the lady with the bob, "If you wanna get out of here I--"

"She clearly ain't interested creep!" Emery cupped his hands together and yelled.

"This don't involve you, punk."

The man went back to bothering the women. He leaned over again and began playing with the brunette's hair. Kelly pursed his lips together in anger as he watched the disgusting display. He bobbed up and down where he sat; filled with restless, furious, energy. Looking around he saw that no one else was seeing this. Or they did and just didn't care.

Acting instead of thinking he rushed over. Stopping just short of where the guy stood Kelly made sure that the ladies could see him but their harasser could not. He stood right behind the satyr, who barely came up to Kelly's chest, and waited. When the man didn't turn around Kelly tapped his shoulder.

"The fuck you want?"

"Ye better leave these women alone," he threatened. "Otherwise yer gonna regret it."

People began to gather around the two; itching for the obvious fight to breakout. Some of the onlookers began quietly whispering bets to one another. Quick exchanges of cash passed between hands. Emery chuckled and downed his beer before hopping off the booth. Once he was on the floor he pushed his way to the front of the growing crowd.

"Ha! Run back to your friend, kid."

"What's the matter," Kelly taunted. "Too scared ta fight? Makes sense seein' ye pick on these nice ladies."

The satyr virus groaned and then swung at Kelly.

He moved out of way barely quick enough to avoid the full effect of the punch. The left hook did connect. But, the impact wasn't as much as the satyr virus was hoping for.

Kelly smirked and backed up again. Holding his hands out he motioned towards himself; egging the satyr to follow. He wanted to get the creep away from the two women as quickly as possible. The virus grit his teeth and his rushed at Kelly.

But he saw that coming and already had his hands up. If the guy was going to try his left hook again Kelly was ready for it. Instead the man kicked with as much force as he could muster. The attack landed and slammed into Kelly's shin.

Immediately after Kelly returned the attack with a hard punch to the man's stomach. A loud gasp of air escaped the satyr’s lungs from the impact. He staggered a bit and Kelly used the advantage to hit him again. He managed to punch the man twice more before the satyr virus caught his third swing.

He bent Kelly's hand backward with all he had.

It hurt like hell. The satyr was trying his damnedest to break Kelly’s wrist. Kelly tried to hit the guy with his free hand. But the man's quick reflexes were even faster than he thought. The satyr grabbed Kelly's other hand just as quickly as he did the first. Before he let go of his grip on Kelly he kicked the teen in the stomach. Kelly slid back from the force of the kick and the crowd winced.

Kelly stood up, put his hands up once more, and waited. The satyr virus shot him a deadly look but didn’t move. He smirked and scoffed. With an annoyed air he turned around and waved a hand; dismissing Kelly.

"I don’t have time to deal with children."

Kelly said nothing.

Instead he turned around and snatched a beer bottle from the closest onlooker. He downed the rest and flipped the bottle in his hand. He was now holding it by the neck. Without any hesitation he swung the empty bottle at the man's head. The force was enough to shatter the glass on impact.

The satyr hit the ground not two seconds later.

The small crowd around him cheered; shouting to be heard above the music. Emery gave him a proud, and clearly impressed, nod. Jett walked in on the scene and had no clue about what was happening. Across the way the two female viruses who were harassed mouthed their thanks.

Kelly simply nodded.

"I leave for a smoke and I miss everything, huh?" Jett asked as the trio made their way back to their table.

Emery smirked; "Yeah, bro, looks like it."

~~~

The trio settled into some semblance of calm after the fight. As calm as they could’ve been under the circumstances. It helped that the bar had began to empty somewhat. Emery gave Jett a loud, somewhat exaggerated, play by play of the fight. Jett listened intently completely taken by each and every word. Kelly just sat there; drinking his vodka tonic and shaking his head at each new embellishment. At some point Jett flagged down a waitress and ordered a rum and coke. She brought it back swiftly thanks to the lull in bar patrons.

When the story was over they got to talking about other things.

Jett decided to order pizza for whenever they got home. The others agreed. They showed each other funny videos that were on a whole new level of comedy thanks to the alcohol. Emery found a marker on the booth and began drawing a faux tattoo on Jett’s hand. Kelly switched entirely to Gaelic halfway through the conversation and didn’t notice. He finally realized it when he tried to order a round of whisky shots and the waiter couldn’t understand him.

While that was happening Emery finished the tattoo. Jett took a picture of it and sent it to the team’s group chat. He also sent it to Mazarin; hoping she’d get a laugh out of it.

“You think Walker’ll even get it?” Emery sincerely asked. “They might not have signal wherever the fuck they are.”

“Maybe, maybe not, guess we’ll have to see when they get back,” Jett replied.

"And what happens then? When Walker gets back from whatever? They'll go right back to all this being secretive and distant shite again."

At that moment the shots arrived. Kelly told the waiter to go back and bring the bottle over. The man nodded but gave him a suspicious look before leaving. A few minutes passed before he dutifully returned with bottle in hand.

"They said they weren't doing that anymore," Jett said shooting Kelly a sideways glance as he reached for his shot. He winced against the burn of the liquor as it hit the back of his throat. The tinge of disbelief was obvious in his voice. None of them knew Walker like they knew each other that much was true. No one could be sure that they’d do good on their promise.

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't blame ye for questionin' it, after everythin's that's happened, like." Kelly said before taking a shot and slamming the glass on the table.

"What's that supposed to mean, Irish?" Emery asked after he downed his shot.

Kelly twisted the cap off the bottle and refilled the three shot glasses. He immediately took his second before filling it up a third time. Setting the bottle down he looked at the others; waiting for them to take their shots. Jett shook his head but ultimately gave into Kelly’s pleading stare. Emery downed his quickly, with an angry glare, before continuing.

"Don’t get me wrong, dude, I get they're shady as fuck but c'mon! They gotta be attending the Academy, and in Dashland, trying to doing some decent shit with their life. Ain't that what we're all trying to do?"

"It means I just -- I've got a little leery of listenin' to all the bloody lies Walker tells us, of feckin' waitin' around like a bomb's gonna go off, of actin' like this shite is normal. Know what I mean?"

Kelly groaned as he pulled his beanie off and ran his hands through both sides of his hair. His left leg bounced aggressively under the table. He poured himself another shot and quickly knocked it back.

"You sure this isn't about something else, Kell?" Jett asked; shooting a suspicious glance at Kelly.

"I'm not the weird one here, ye bloody eejit!"

Emery laughed. It was jarringly loud and shook his whole body. His form buckled forward and he set his beer down on the table. Pounding on the table with his fist he continued to laugh. Jett and Kelly both stared at him with identical looks of confusion. When the laughing fit was over Emery sighed and wiped a tear from his right eye.

"We're all fucking weird, Irish. That's why we fit together dude. We're just a big ol' group of misfit fuck-ups. Ain't nothing wrong with that."

Kelly downed the rest of his vodka tonic and said nothing. Motioning for a refill he handed his glass to the nearest waiter.

The trio fell into a strange, and very uncomfortable, silence. Kelly touched his cheek with his fingers and winced a tiny bit. He muttered something about going to check his injuries and left. When he did the awkward silence left with him.

"The fuck's gotten into him?"

Jett shrugged; "I don't know, Beck. Could be the whole thing with his dad. Maybe it’s ‘cause Av isn’t here. Might be something totally different."

“Pretty sure Princess is ninety percent of his impulse control.”

Emery shook his head and sighed. He looked around the bar as if looking for someone or something. He started tapping his fingers on his beer bottle in perfect sync with the music. He watched the rhythmic movement of his own fingers before turning to Jett. Emery's bright purple eyes were filled with worry.

"And you?" he asked. "How're you holding up?"

Jett shrugged again; "Fine."

Emery shot him a look of disbelief. The two knew each far too well, and for far too long, to not catch one another's lies. "You sure?"

"Course I am," Jett said before taking a sip of his drink.

"Liar"

"No, I'm not."

Emery looked at Jett out of the corner of his eye and smirked; "Oh, so you're saying you're not okay?"

"I said I'm fine, bro. Just drop it alright?"

Emery put his hands up in defense; signifying that he was indeed dropping it. The two sat in an awkward, strange, silence for some time. This kind of silence was unfamiliar to them but neither knew how to fix it. In that lull Jett got a text from his sister about his “tattoo”.

You can’t be serious.

Serious as a heart attack, little lady.

Mom’s gonna kill you, dumbass.

His smile disappeared when he read her reply. Instinctively his hand flew to cover his mouth. Her words were a normal reaction under normal circumstances but they were far past normal. Even though it hurt he couldn’t blame her for forgetting. He did too sometimes. Just before Jett texted her back Mazarin sent him one.

Sorry. I forgot...

Don’t worry it’s alright. It’s just Sharpie anyway.

:P

“Something wrong with Maz?” Emery asked seeing his friend’s face.

Jett shook his head and wiped his eye with the back of his hand. Showing Emery his phone he bit his bottom lip to hold back the tears. He took a deep breath before explaining.

“I’m not mad or anything, you know, ‘cause I forget too. Hell, I do a lot more than just forget. Sometimes I text them stuff that’s going on. They would’ve wanted to know when they were here so... But, there’s times... There’s times where I call mom just to hear her voice ‘cause I haven’t talked to her in so long and then I get that pre-recorded out of service message and...”

The tears fell despite his best efforts and his eyes stung from crying. His breathing was shaky. He wiped his hand across his mouth and chin. Both ears were flat against his head.

“And then it hits me all over again. Sometimes I don’t believe it and I try to call dad but I just get that same stupid robot voice telling me the exact same thing.”

Emery took Jett’s hand in his own and squeezed it. Scooting closer to him Emery reached a hand behind Jett’s back. He slowly rubbed his hand against Jett’s back to reassure him. Emery told him that it was okay. What he did wasn’t anything wrong. It didn’t mean that he was going crazy. It was nothing different than people who talked to their loved ones at their graves.

Jett instinctively laid his head against his best friend’s shoulder.

The pair sat that way until they both found it too awkward.

Kelly arrived at the table a few minutes later. He no longer wore the black beanie on his head and his hair was slightly wet. Small beads of water clung to his eyelashes and made his left eye twitch. He rubbed it away with the back of his hand. It seemed like the bruises on his face, and his hand, darkened. It could’ve been shadows from the lights above but it was hard to tell.

He sat and chugged the vodka tonic before signaling for another.

“You alright, Irish?”

“Aye. Fuckin’ bastard’s gone though. He bloody disappeared.”

Jett spit his drink out in shock. Emery didn’t try to hide his laughter.

“I’m fuckin’ serious! Look!” he protested; pointing to the area where the satyr virus lie on the floor not too long ago. The spot was indeed empty.

“Dammit!” Emery shouted; pounding his fist on the table.

“Maybe he ran with his tail between his legs?” Jett offered.

But his hopes were dashed by the sound of approaching footsteps. A virus in a dark suit and sunglasses walked up to the table. With the lighting of the bar it was hard to tell if the person was male or female or neither. The only part of their appearance the trio could make out was the dull, pale, chartreuse colored veins that crawled along their neck and face. Whoever they were they stood with an intimidating air.

“Who’s in charge here?”

The three teens looked at each in confusion and surprise. Jett gave the others a questioning look and a shrug. Emery nodded; seriously. Kelly quickly peeked at the mysterious visitor before nodding as well. Jett held his fist out over an open palm. The others followed suit. Jett counted to three and the trio hit their fists against their palms in perfect unison with the count and each other. On three they simultaneously revealed their hand.

Both Emery and Kelly had two fingers out; forming a pair of scissors. Jett was the only one with paper.

“Shoulda just gone with you from the start, bro,” Emery said with a chuckle.

Jett rolled his eyes and gave Emery a friendly shove. Then he turned his attention to the mysterious stranger in front of them.

“So you’re it, huh?”

“Looks like it.”

“The boss wanted me to talk to you. Care to step outside, little man?”

“And who might your boss be?”

“That’s for me to know and you to figure out.”

Jett held his finger up; signaling the virus to wait. He picked up his drink and slowly drained the rest of it. He hoped that it wasn’t obvious that he was buying time. That this person couldn’t sense the fear bubbling inside him. When the rum and coke was gone he set the empty glass down.

“They’re coming too,” he said as he got off the booth.

The stranger shrugged; “Fine by me.”

Emery and Kelly got off the booth and followed Jett around the table. Jett motioned for the stranger to lead the way. They chuckled and turned around. Before the group left the table Kelly swiped the bottle of whisky from the table. He shoved it in the hidden pocket of his long, army green, coat. The three teens followed the mysterious virus out the back door.

“The fuck are ye doin’ eejit? This guy’s definitely with that satyr whose ass I kicked.”

Jett nodded; “Yeah, I know.”

“The fuck?”

“Don’t worry, Irish,” Emery said; clapping his hand on Kelly’s shoulder. “Je’s got a plan.”

~~~

As it turned out Jett did have a plan. Even though it worked, and they caught the stranger off guard, the virus was prepared to fight. To no one’s surprise the mysterious stranger didn’t go down easily. It seemed that the virus didn’t feel anything they hit them with. Emery’s sonic screams didn’t even affect them. And yet the trio somehow came out the victor. When the fight was over the three teenage boys were bruised and beaten. They held onto one another as they stumbled home.

“You think he went easy on us?”

“‘Cause we’re kids?” Jett replied.

Emery nodded.

“Don’t think they cared, bro. I think they just ran outta gas.”

As they walked Jett ordered pizza as he promised earlier. Kelly told him not to order any anchovies on the pizza. Jett jokingly threatened to order only anchovy pizzas just because he complained. Emery quietly sang some nonsensical made up lyrics to himself. Kelly pulled his beanie down so that it covered his eyes a bit and obscured his vision. Jett noticed but before he could say anything Emery bumped into him. Emery saw that something was up and rushed over to Kelly.

“Irish, Irish, Irish,” he said wrapping his arm around Kelly’s neck and pulling him closer.

“Your sadness is pouring off you, man. Wha’s up, bro?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar,” Emery and Jett yelled in unison.

“Let’s just go home an’ eat some pizza, yeah?” he said; clearly deflecting.

The others shrugged and went on their way.

When the trio arrived at the dorm they stumbled up the stairs. As they ascended the stairs they both held onto Kelly. For the time being he couldn’t stand very well on his own. He had secretly been drinking ever since they left the bar. The other two weren’t that surprised. Everyone knew that he owned a flask and often filled it with hard liquor. Even so neither Jett or Emery thought he’d bring it to a bar.

Or that he’d steal a bottle from the bar either.

Jett let go of Kelly when they reached the dorm. He fumbled about for his key. As he was about to admit that he might’ve lost them Emery told him to check his shoes. Confused and somewhat impressed he did as he was told. Pulling off his left shoe he overturned it. Smacking the bottom with his palm he hoped the key would fall out.

It didn’t.

He did the same thing with his right.

Sure enough the key was there.

“Heh, forgot about that,” he said with a chuckle.

When he finally got the door opened the three boys stumbled into the dorm. Emery half dropped Kelly onto the couch. He gave Kelly a light slap on the cheek to make sure he was still awake. Kelly muttered a couple obscenities and Emery laughed. He assured Jett that Kelly was fine. Jett suddenly remembered that he still had the Sharpie tattoo on his hand.

He rushed to the bathroom to attempt to wash it off.

“Gotta use nail polish remover bro,” Emery called out as he popped in a movie.

“What?” Jett yelled back.

“Dude trust me, alright. That shit doesn’t come off any other way.”

“Beck,” Jett called out; the worry getting heavy in his voice. “You sure? I--I don’t think we got any, bro.”

“Gotcha dude, no worries. Gimme a sec.”

“I can’t have this freaking jacked Kit-Kat on my hand forever.”

“I said I got it!” Emery screamed as he raced to kitchen pantry.

Kelly ignored all of this as he took out his phone and, for the umpteenth time that night, checked his messages. Once again there weren’t any. Scrolling through for a second or two he looked for the last reply. It was right after. He sighed and pressed the phone icon that sat in the top right hand corner. Putting the phone to his ear he bit his bottom lip in anticipation. His right leg bounced up and down. The phone rang and rang before going to voicemail.

He didn’t leave a message.

Instead of closing his phone he walked out into the hallway and made two other phone calls.

Meanwhile, back inside, Emery reached up to the top shelf and began pushing various boxes and cans around. A hidden section of wall was revealed. He knew exactly where the space was and so he put his fingers on either side and pulled it away. Inside the secret compartment were a series of bottles of nail polish remover. He snatched one and set it on the shelf before returning the false section of wall. Before taking the bottle he quickly shoved the boxes and cans back to where they were before. He ran over to the bathroom and tossed the bottle at Jett. Jett was in the middle of trying to scrub the Sharpie off with soap and water. He caught it with one hand and then immediately dropped it.

“Nice.”

“Shuddup! It’s your fault I gotta do this anyway, Em!”

Emery laughed; “You asked for it, man. None of this is my fault.”

“I was drunk dumbass!”

“So was I bro!”

The stupidity of the situation made them suddenly burst into laughter. Jett cupped some water in his hand and splashed Emery in the face. Emery gasped in surprise. Jett chuckled, covering his mouth to hide it, and went to shut the faucet off. But he was laughing too much and Emery’s reflexes were faster. He slammed his hand against the spout and sprayed water all over Jett. When the impromptu water fight was all said and done both boys were practically soaked.

After drying off as best they could Jett went back to removing the Sharpie from his skin.

Emery went back to the couch and waited for the others so he could start the movie. There was no telling how long it stayed on the title screen. When Jett emerged from the bathroom he tossed the nail polish back to Emery. He stood up and caught it effortlessly. As he went to return it to its proper hiding spot Jett sat on the couch.

“Hey, uh, Beck?” he shouted.

“Yeah?”

“Why do have nail polish remover in the first place? Why’re you hiding it?”

“Oh, you know,” he said; response muffled by the walls. As he made his way back into the living room area his voice got louder. “That stuff’s good for a lot of things. Cleaning paint off windows, getting sticker gunk off pretty much everything, and whatever.”

At that moment Kelly walked back into the dorm.

“Doesn’t tell me why you’re hiding it.”

Kelly, who had missed the rest of the conversation, assumed that the others were talking about him.

“God, Mary, and the wee baby Jaysus, ye were right!” he shouted.

“Huh?”

“Earlier in the bar when ye asked if me rant was about somethin’ else. It was. Guess it’s a bunch of things. Me da’s one like always. But it’s been worse ‘cause me brother. He always says da’s a deadbeat and we’re better without him. That I’m away with the faeries when I talk about da. Avia gettin’ dragged away by her da was just the last straw. Made me feel I’m on me tod and needin’ some craic. Don’t why I fought that guy though honest. Ye know, ma always said I suffer from a double-dose of original sin.”

Silence fell when Kelly finally stopped talking.

Jett and Emery exchanged confused looks.

“I’m hiding it ‘cause acetone’s fucking flammable, and I’d rather be caught dead than have it anywhere that could have you burning the building down,” Emery shouted in exasperation.

A loud knock at the door made the boys jump.

“Delivery for, uh, Jett,” a voice called from behind the door.

Jett hopped off the couch and went to the door. Upon opening it he saw that it was the pizza that he had ordered. Digging into the back pocket of his pants he pulled out his wallet. Taking out just enough cash to pay he handed the money to the delivery man. The man handed the pizzas over and Jett went to close the door with his elbow.

But there was another pizza delivery person at the door.

“I only ordered these two,” he said lifting the boxes up for emphasis.

“Aye. I ordered those,” Kelly said as he went to pay the delivery person.

As Jett set his boxes down on the coffee table Kelly called for help. Emery rushed over and was immediately handed a series of boxes. It took some time to bring in everything but eventually the other pizza delivery person left. The teens were now looking at eight large pizzas, two orders of cinnamon sticks, an insane amount of dipping sauces and a few two-liters of soda. And that was just what Kelly ordered. In total they had ten pizzas.

“You never said you were getting pizza, Kell!”

“What can I say?” Kelly replied with a shrug. “I was really drunk and Avia’s pretty much all my impulse control.”

They all laughed and started on one of the pizzas. Emery rushed to the cupboards and took out three glasses. He filled each with some ice from the fridge before returning to the others. Jett poured the drinks when he brought the glasses over. Kelly opened a couple containers of marinara and ranch. Taking one for himself he dipped the end of his pizza into the ranch. Jett grabbed the remote and finally played the movie. When that movie ended they put in another.

The trio stayed there until the sodas were empty and all the pizza was gone.

[mychemicalrachel]

I started thinking about Adam at college and I accidentally wrote a thing.

Read on ao3. 

Adam had anticipated college to be stressful. The good kind of stress, if such a thing existed. He’d expected the overload of homework and reading, welcomed it readily. But with a full ride scholarship to one of the best schools in the country, for once in his life, Adam didn’t have to worry about where money for his next meal would come from. And that was the kind of stress he would gladly live without.

For the first few months, Adam still saved every penny like it might be his last. He kept a cereal box under his bed stuffed with extra cash, eventually giving in to opening a checking account at Gansey’s insistence. After getting a job at the local mechanic’s shop, Adam slowly came to realize that he didn’t have to scavenge for money anymore. For the first time, Adam had money he could spend on whatever he wanted.

It started to show in small ways at first; Adam splurged the extra two-dollars on the good toilet paper instead of the sand-paper off brand. He ordered coffee instead of water when he spent late hours studying at the campus coffee shop. He was even able to fill up the BMWs gas tank instead of buying gas in ten-dollar increments when it started getting low.

So yes, Adam had anticipated college to be stressful, and it was, but withdrawal from Henrietta was even more so. The first few weeks were the worst. Nightmares were still fresh in his mind, memories of Gansey’s death and Ronan’s almost unmaking. More often than not, he still dreamt of his own hands on Ronan’s throat, squeezing until he could feel the breath stop. Some nights, he simply dreamed of Cabeswater, what it was now that it was nothing.

He called Ronan on those particularly bad nights. On the occasions that Ronan didn’t answer, Opal did. She would talk to him, sometimes in English or Latin or that other language he didn’t understand. Somehow, she knew it didn’t matter what she said. Just to know that she was okay, that her and Ronan were safe, it was enough.

The days were even worse. Something small could set Adam off into a spiral; a girl who, in passing, looked like Blue; a boy whose laugh sounded like Gansey’s; a breeze would close a door and Noah’s name would slip off his tongue before he remembered that Noah was gone. Adam did his best to cope with their absence alone-- he couldn’t very well call his friends every time he missed them. They had lives, and Adam needed to let them be without worrying about him all the time.

The first pack of cigarettes Adam bought was for a friend who didn’t have the cash on him. His friend gratefully handed him a single cigarette from the pack, saying thanks. He left Adam alone, staring at the thin white stick curiously; he’d never smoked before. It had never occurred to him, never been an option or a lure, but staring at it now, it seemed to call to Adam. A pull that he hadn’t felt since the death of Cabeswater. Adam went back into the convenience store and bought a lighter.

He choked on the first drag. It burned his throat more than anything, left his lungs feeling full and deflated at the same time. He took another drag, slower, and exhaled. Staring into the smoke, like searching for shapes in the clouds, Adam felt himself relax.

When he crushed the butt of the cigarette against the pavement, he told himself it was a one time thing. One cigarette didn’t make you an addict.

Adam went back the next day and bought himself another pack.

By the time Adam’s first year of college had officially ended, he realized he might actually miss this place when he goes back to Virginia for the summer. For the past nine months, this dorm room had been his home. Leaving it feels surreal. But the draw of Ronan and Blue and Gansey is even stronger. He packs up the BMW and leaves college behind.

It’s an almost seven hour drive to Virginia, and Adam spends the whole time anxiously tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. Blue texts him a few times, reminding him to pull over and rest if he gets too tired, but the pull of home fills him with adrenaline. He can’t wait to be back. Not to the town, or even to the Barns, but to see his friends again.

Everyone is waiting at the Barns when Adam parks the BMW and climbs out. He can see the Pig and his Hondayota parked to one side of the drive. The sun is kissing the horizon, the beginning of dusk leaving everything glowing orange and pink. Magical, as if the Barns could ever be anything but.

He’s not even up the porch steps when the front door crashes open and Blue is charging him. She flings herself at him, and Adam barely manages to grab her and steady them before they both fall down the stairs. He staggers back, laughing, as the familiarity swarms him. Gansey is right behind her, not even waiting for them to part before inserting himself into the hug. Over Gansey’s shoulder, he spots Ronan standing back, watching them. There’s a hint of a smirk tugging the corners of his lips.

Adam disentangles himself as best as he can. He stands at the bottom of the stairs, Ronan at the top, with four steps between them. Adam leans against the railing. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Ronan mimics.

“Your hair is longer,” Adam notes. “It looks good.”

Ronan lifts a hand to brush through his hair, like he’s just noticed. Then he shrugs casually. “I figured you might want something to pull.”

Adam grins at him. “That’s presumptuous, Lynch.”

Ronan jumps down to the ground, not bothered to use to the steps. He casts a look toward Blue and Gansey. Blue, seeming to take the unsubtle hint, grabs Gansey’s arm. “We’ll give you two some privacy.” She tugs him back toward the house, leaving Adam and Ronan alone. Without an audience, Ronan seems to soften a bit. He nudges his shoe against Adam’s. “I was serious, what I said about my hair.”

Adam reaches up to pull a few fingers through the hair. He gives it a experimental tug and Ronan’s eyes narrow, either an invitation or a challenge. Adam assumes it’s a mixture of both and he finally leans in to capture Ronan’s lips. The heat that immediately surrounds him, the warmth that seems to come from the inside out, it’s all familiar. It’s addictive and safe and tantalizing, all at once.

And then Ronan pulls back, frowning. “You taste weird.”

“I didn’t brush my teeth,” Adam admits. “And I had onion rings for lunch.”

“No,” Ronan shakes his head. “That’s not it.” He watches Adam for a moment, rubs his thumb along his lower lip in a gesture that seems distinctly Gansey of him. Ronan frowns a little more. “Have you been smoking?”

“Oh,” Adam realizes. “Yeah. A little.”

“How do you smoke a little?” Ronan demands. “Either you’ve been smoking or you haven’t.”

“Okay,” Adam corrects himself. “Yes, I’ve been smoking. What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you so mad all of a sudden?”

“It’s fucking gross,” Ronan snaps. “Since when do you smoke?”

“Since school is stressful, I guess.” Adam shrugs. “What’s the big deal?”

“They’re bad for you--”

“Oh, you’re one to talk about bad habits,” Adam laughs. “You’re the one who used to drink himself into oblivion to avoid dealing with feelings.”

Ronan chooses not to acknowledge that. “What if Gansey and Blue found out?”

“So what?” Adam asks. “I’m a big boy. Gansey is not my father. I can do whatever I want.”

“And you want to kill yourself?” Ronan says. “There are easier ways, man.”

Adam is taken aback. “What the fuck, Ronan?”

Ronan’s nostrils flare. He looks down, shuffling his feet. At his sides, his hands tighten into fists. Ronan turns to walk away, but Adam catches his wrist.

“No, Ronan. Do not just shut me out. What the hell is your problem?”

“I’m self-destructive,” Ronan snaps. “I know that. Sure, you’re right; I drink myself stupid sometimes. But I’ve never fucking smoked because those things kill, Parrish. They fucking kill you. Slowly. And I cannot lose you.”

Ronan drops his gaze, sighs, and Adam can see the way his shoulders deflate. The fight leaves him. For some reason, this Ronan seems harder to deal with than an angry Ronan. Adam says, “You can’t tell me what to do.”

Ronan barks out a bitter laugh. “Thank God for that, huh? You’d never listen to me anyway.”

“I didn’t know you would hate it so much.” Adam nudges Ronan’s arm. “I figured it would make me look hot.”

Ronan rolls his eyes.

Adam clears his throat. “If you hate it so much, I can try to stop.”

“I’m not your fucking father,” Ronan says. “I’m not going to make you do anything. I’m not giving you some fucking ultimatum, like if you don’t stop I’ll break up with you.”

“I know,” Adam says. “But you don’t like it. Relationships are about compromise, right? And you grew your hair out just for me.” Adam laces his fingers through the hair and tugs at it again. It makes Ronan smile. “So I’ll try to stop. I’m not making an promises, though.”

“If it’s about stress, I can dream you something,” Ronan says. “There are millions of ways to relieve stress.” He pulls Adam into his arms, mouthing at Adam’s neck, his throat, his jaw. “I can dream you up a sex doll that looks just like me. Sex is shown to be a great stress reliever.”

Adam laughs, shoving at Ronan’s shoulders. “I would love to explain that to my roommate.”

Ronan bites down on his lip and watches Adam carefully, suddenly serious. “Promise me you’ll call if you get too stressed out. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night, I will drive your shitty Hondayota all the way to New Jersey if you need me.”

And Adam knew that Ronan would be there for him, was always there for him, but hearing Ronan offer like that… it made something in Adam’s chest swell. “Yeah, I promise.”

“Good.” Ronan laces his fingers with Adam’s. “Now, we should go see the others. Opal missed you…”

Ronan leads him inside, launching into a story about Opal and Chainsaw. Adam smiles as he listens, feeling more settled than he ever had before. For the first time in months, his fingers don’t itch for a cigarette. He doesn’t feel the tension and the stress like a physical weight on his back. He feels calm, relaxed. He feels like he’s home.