Ronan paced.
Mathew slept like a dead person upstairs. He was pretty sure Opal was curled up on the roof, crazy little shit.
But he wasn't about to sleep. He knew it would pass time if he dreamt, but he had too much nervous energy to stop moving long enough to throw himself into sleep.
He checked the clock – 2:31 am. If there had been anyone around, he would have let loose on a perfectly constructed string of profanity. As it was, it felt empty when there was no one around to hear it.
He needed it to be time. He needed to leave and drive, drive, drive.
But it wasn't time. It was 2:32.
This time he did let out the string of profanity. He was right – it felt empty.
And so he paced.
Adam slept.
Well, sort of. He slept badly. He hated planes. Ironic, really, since for a long time, all he wanted was to travel far away. Planes were good at that.
However, planes were only claustrophobic tubes that forced either painful interaction or painful avoidance with strangers. He admitted, grudgingly, that flying first class was not bad. He never would have chosen it for himself, but he, Gansey, Blue and Henry had venmoed Ronan money so that he could book them flights with similar landing times. He had only wanted to take one trip to the airport.
So of course – of course, he should not have been surprised when he read the ticket. He adjusted the complementary neck pillow and reclined the fancy seat.
The weight of finals and his first college semester and the long absence was over. He was going home.
Home. He never imagined he would feel that way about anything in Henrietta. Then again, it wasn't actually Henrietta that felt like home at all. It wasn't even the barns, though that felt closer to the truth.
He pulled out the perfect lotion for his hands – they always cracked at high altitudes – and smiled. He thought of the first class ticket, and the face that would be waiting for him when he got off the plane.
Home.
He closed his eyes and slept.
Blue also flew first class, but her ticket was a birthday present. How could she argue with that?
Her seat and the seat next to her somehow managed to feel secluded, even on a crowded airplane. Henry sat directly behind her, snoring softly. It was comforting – it felt right.
She glanced down at her tiny hand laced through Gansey's larger one. That felt right, too.
"Hey."
Gansey started a little, so she knew he had been deep in thought.
"Hey."
He gave her his real-Gansey smile, the young one that filled her with something she knew she would never get used to.
She ran a hand up his arm, and her fingers threaded through the hair on the back of his neck. He did not take a lot of convincing.
He leaned forward, and his hand gripped the bare skin on her thigh, fingers just under the frayed hemline of her shorts. She shivered, and when he kissed her, she thought about how she would do anything for this Aglionby boy.
She didn't so much mind first class.
And Gansey kissed Blue.
"Mathew! Opal!" Ronan heard noises indicating both were listening. "I'll be back with everyone in a bit!"
And, finally, he left.
The BMW could not travel fast enough. His robo bee – an improved version of the one his father had given Henry – zoomed the near proximity, keeping an eye out for cops. Luck, chance – whatever the hell it was – favored him. The whole way to the airport was clear.
His heart felt like he was still pacing. Or sprinting. He tried to ignore the doubts plaguing him. He had talked to Adam almost every day the past four months – nothing had changed.
Or maybe everything had, and he just didn't notice it happening. A lot of people went to Stanford. Probably most of them weren't fuckups like Ronan.
He loves you.
Maybe.
He loves you.
Why would he?
Surely, as soon as he left Henrietta – as soon as he saw the possibilities – the people outside of his little hellhole, he would realize how much more he could have.
He loves you.
He shook the darker thoughts away. He was used to these, but they were of no use to him now.
Gansey, Blue and Henry were at the baggage claim. Ronan felt a great rush of affection for two of them. He couldn't argue, however, that the three of them felt right together. He approached them silently.
"Hey, assholes."
Blue moved too quickly for him to process what was happening for a moment.
"Don't be a shitbag," she said, but there was not a trace of venom. Her words were muffled against his chest.
He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. "Miss me, maggot?"
She didn't reward that with an answer. Instead, she stepped back so that Gansey and Ronan could exchange a look, a grin, and a fist bump.
"Lover boy land soon?"
Ronan glowered at Cheng, who didn't even have the decency to look nervous. Instead, he grinned wider and gave a cheeky little finger wave. "Good to see you, Lynch."
They found the rest of their luggage and moved to the terminal to wait for Adam. Ronan felt his anxiety as a separate entity – a physical weight that restricted his lungs while simultaneously trying to force its way out of his stomach.
It had been so long. What if it had all been a dream like everything else in his life?
He saw his hands first.
One held a piece of luggage, one was clenched in a white knuckled fist by his side.
For all that he had lived through, Ronan could not understand why it took so much courage to look up.
But he did.
It was as if his anxiety vanished and increased all at once.
Maybe he would never look away again.
Adam smiled, and it changed everything. Or it fixed everything. Or it broke everything.
"Parrish."
Adam dropped his duffel bag.
Ronan strode forward.
Somewhere irrelevant, Blue made a noise so feminine that she would normally hate herself for it.
Those hands – one on his neck, one secured firmly around his waist.
His mouth.
Holy shit, his mouth.
They pulled away at the same time. Both of their hands fell to their sides. Adam nodded in a would-be casual way, but his eyes betrayed the same intoxicating joy that ran through Ronan's veins.
"Lynch."
They both laughed.
Gansey cleared his throat, and Adam grinned at him. "Sorry Gansey, Blue, Cheng."
He didn't look sorry at all.
He hugged Gansey and Blue and fist bumped Henry.
Now the weight of the reunion and What Next? And Has Anything Permanent Shifted? And We Are All A Little Different Now, settled. Ronan didn't have patience for this.
"Okay assholes. Taxi's leaving."
And suddenly, they were not one and one and three, but five. The five of them, just as it should be. Really, nothing had changed.
Adam picked up his bag again – it was all he brought with him, he told them, and took Ronan's hand with the other.
So maybe some things had changed.
The rest of them followed, rolling luggage, making each other laugh, exchanging overdue glances, feeling right again with the world.