Richard Campbell Gansey III (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thatsallthereis) wrote2016-11-20 11:38 am
thatsallthereis) wrote2016-11-20 11:38 am
[Ronan's Birthday Gathering]
"This is a night for truth."
For hours, the libations had flowed. That was thanks to Gansey's imaginary money and his relative fascination with what he couldn't help but think of as Supermarket Culture. There, he purchased a couple new pool cues (why would this place also have pool cues would be a question too logical for his new life; sometimes he thought seeking sleeping kings was the more gentle fate). Alcohol, pool, music, and -- thanks to Noah -- decoration. A great banner, capable of shedding more glitter than the local warlock -- screamed in cheerful swirling letters HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ASSHOLE!. Gansey loved it. It was just the right tone for a Ronan birthday. The array of spider-themed decor and the paper spiderweb banner that bordered the pool table reminded them not only that Halloween had just passed, but also that the leftover decorations were dirt cheap. Anything ghost shaped was carefully, politically polite to any ghosts that may have purchased them.
There was also cake. Noah made sure there was cake. It was a carrot cake that read Happy Birthday We All Love You. It was like Noah knew what was ahead.
So, with his free-flowing drinks and new pool cues and nothing but the five of them, they drank and they played and they tolerated Ronan's terrible electronica, and they laughed. They shot the shit. They got to be regular teenagers for a few hours.
So, when the most energetic part of the night was wending toward lethargy, Gansey took action.
"Nobody knows if we were plucked out of our old life or if we made some kind of unconscious choice to be here. We may never know." That didn't sit well with Gansey, so he perched himself on the coffee table, facing these people -- his people. "We can agree that time is messed up. I think we can all agree that's done something to spread us out." There was no one he looked at in particular. Life did that sometimes. Not to them.
So, he said again, "this is a night for truth. I'll go first."
For hours, the libations had flowed. That was thanks to Gansey's imaginary money and his relative fascination with what he couldn't help but think of as Supermarket Culture. There, he purchased a couple new pool cues (why would this place also have pool cues would be a question too logical for his new life; sometimes he thought seeking sleeping kings was the more gentle fate). Alcohol, pool, music, and -- thanks to Noah -- decoration. A great banner, capable of shedding more glitter than the local warlock -- screamed in cheerful swirling letters HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ASSHOLE!. Gansey loved it. It was just the right tone for a Ronan birthday. The array of spider-themed decor and the paper spiderweb banner that bordered the pool table reminded them not only that Halloween had just passed, but also that the leftover decorations were dirt cheap. Anything ghost shaped was carefully, politically polite to any ghosts that may have purchased them.
There was also cake. Noah made sure there was cake. It was a carrot cake that read Happy Birthday We All Love You. It was like Noah knew what was ahead.
So, with his free-flowing drinks and new pool cues and nothing but the five of them, they drank and they played and they tolerated Ronan's terrible electronica, and they laughed. They shot the shit. They got to be regular teenagers for a few hours.
So, when the most energetic part of the night was wending toward lethargy, Gansey took action.
"Nobody knows if we were plucked out of our old life or if we made some kind of unconscious choice to be here. We may never know." That didn't sit well with Gansey, so he perched himself on the coffee table, facing these people -- his people. "We can agree that time is messed up. I think we can all agree that's done something to spread us out." There was no one he looked at in particular. Life did that sometimes. Not to them.
So, he said again, "this is a night for truth. I'll go first."
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"It's..." Noah's mouth screws up a moment when he realizes there's a lot he can say, but unsure he wants to unpack all of it. And he doesn't want to get into hypotheticals for something that isn't happening and hasn't really been discussed at all. But Ronan asked, so he tries to give him something. "There's a difference between me coming into a relationship where I know the parameters, to me, already in the relationship, agreeing to a situation where I think I know the parameters but they aren't what I expected?" That's not all of it, but it's something.
He sighs, adding, "I thought it was just Thomas and Hild. I was stupid, I didn't realize open relationship meant open to anyone. I didn't realize there would be-- I wasn't ready, I guess, and living with him, I think...I think I could have done it, maybe, if we hadn't been living together. If it hadn't started like that. If I didn't have a million hang-ups from being dead, and maybe if I'd had any experience with anything." Noah cuts himself off with a groan and scrubs a hand over his face. "This is-- I can't even get a full sentence out."
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He quirks his lips then, sympathetic as he leans just enough to knock his shoulder against Noah's, more comforting than playful. "I'd give you my beer if I hadn't spilled it all over the damn floor." It's a pretty lame attempt to make Noah smile, but he'll try anything right now. He has no idea if they're making any sort of progress at all, if this is what Gansey actually had in mind for the evening or if even gives a shit now that he's dropped the bomb about Cheng.
Ronan's still unconvinced tonight was supposed to be about anything other than Gansey.
"Is this something you'd even want though?" he asks, frowning again as he watches Noah carefully. "Or do we just go back to ignoring it's there?"
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"What's 'this'?" he asks quietly, looking back. "Do you really think Adam's going to want you dating someone else? Ronan..." Noah shakes his head and looks away.
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But, despite what Adam's said before on the subject, Ronan thinks Noah might have a point. What he and Noah even do? And how would Adam actually take it? Hypothetical is one thing. In practice...
Frowning, Ronan shakes his head and brings his wrist to his mouth, biting at the bracelets there. "Fuck it, you're right," he says a moment later, replacing his mouth with two fingers, winding the bands tight enough around the tips to turn them purple. "I don't know what the hell I'm thinking. You're right."
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"It's okay," Noah says, clearing his throat a little. He shifts, unsure of where to go from here. He glances across the room, wondering how much damage has been done tonight, and how it can be fixed. "But Ronan. I know you're hurt, you think Gansey is moving on. Like he's moving away from you. And I know part of it is because he was taken from Darrow before. But..." Noah pauses, wishing he had his own bracelet to chew on, like it might give him the right words to say. "Think about it from his perspective. He shows up in this weird place and all of us are different. Henry's probably the closest to what he had back home. It's not like he loves Henry more than you. It's not a question of more. He still loves you, just like he still loves Adam, and Blue. But it's hard for him, too."
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But now that Blue's fucked off, it's Cheng taking her place and something in Ronan isn't ready. It's like he's only just gotten Gansey back and he's losing him again.
"So what the fuck am I supposed to do?" he asks, glaring down at the bands wrapped around his wrist, still tugging hard enough to hurt. "Just let it happen? Pretend I don't give a fuck?"
He knows the answer before Noan can even say it. He just doesn't know if he can.
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"You have to trust Gansey," he finally says in answer to Ronan's question. Turning the first part over in his mind, he gives Ronan's arm a gentle swat. "And of course you have to let it happen. Could you imagine what you would have done if one of us had thrown a fit at you for wanting to date Adam?"
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And because, unlike Gansey, Ronan's never made it a fucking secret that he likes dick.
But fuck, maybe Gansey wants to play in the gay pool too now that his ex-girlfriend has decided she likes girls. Maybe everyone wants to have a fucking turn. But Noah's right, none of them are the same anymore. Maybe it's time Ronan realizes that and moves the fuck on.
"Trust him to what? Not to leave us? Blue basically already has," Ronan points out and he makes no effort to hide the look he gives her then. "Just a matter of time, isn't it?"
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"You have to trust Gansey that whatever choices he makes, he's still going to be your friend. Things are different here, but it doesn't mean we're going to abandon each other. Back home Gansey's apparently on a road trip with Blue and Henry in a car you dreamt." He smirks, about to resort to poking Ronan in the side to get him to smile. "It could be worse."
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He scowls against the poke of Noah's finger, tilting away from as he gives Blue another brief glance. "For as much as they're around, they might as well be on one now," he points out, but his tone is less harsh this time. More like a sulky eight year old and Ronan quickly frowns against it, not liking the sound of it much at all. "But I'm not dreaming them shit. If they want to fuck off, they can do it on their own."
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He means it though. As irritating as he'd once found Blue, he was starting to like her before she decided Gansey wasn't good enough for her and she decided to give fate the finger. But maybe she's right, maybe there is no such thing as fate here in Darrow.
In a way, it's almost funny. Here they are, stuck in a town from which they can't leave and yet they're still splintering. Maybe that's their fate.
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"It's already started," he points out. Because the foundation cracked the minute Gansey showed up here the first time, months ahead of Ronan, remembering things he'd never lived. It cracked further with Adam and again with Blue. Gansey disappearing and then returning months later is the sledgehammer to top it all off and Henry's the one picking out all the Gansey shaped pieces to take back home with him.
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Because, if there's on thing Ronan knows, it's that some things just can't be fixed no matter how much you might want them. No amount of wanting, begging, of praying brought his father back. No amount of pleading made the terrors stop. Sometimes shit is just fucked and all you can do is deal with it.
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