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If you help- [ Ronan takes a deep breath and holds it or else fire will explode from his nostrils like a dragon. The image is amusing, enough that he holds onto it for a moment. And then exhales sharply. No flames. ] You didn't have to agree to work two jobs.

[The explosion isn't quite as destructive as Gansey had anticipated. Leaning back against sun warmed vinyl, he lets out a sigh.]

If I help around the shop, the work will be done faster. [Perhaps not if Gansey's helping since his mechanical experience is limited to the Pig's mysterious workings.] We'll be able to pay off the debt more quickly.

[Closing his eyes, he begins to rub the bridge of hsi nose, then stops when he almost knocks his glasses askew.]

You can't help with the BMW, but I can. I'm the logical choice for working there.

[ Gansey is right. He knows he's right. Ronan hates when Gansey is right. ]

Don't expect me to rub your feet when you get home too late to shower.

[ There is no heat, just frustrated teasing because he's still not happy, but he can't take it out on Gansey. ]

[When there's no further cursing, Gansey risks starting the Pig, shifting the TC to speaker before heading for the stables.]

I never thought you would. [He pauses a beat, wondering if the exertion of two jobs will counteract his insomnia.] It's never too late if you never sleep.

[ The sound of the Pig is music to Ronan's ears. Until recently he'd dreamed about driving the Pig. he doesn't dream about driving the Pig anymore. ]

You and Parrish will be the death of me, I swear.

I'd need at least one more job to compete with Parrish.

[He ignores how much he misses Adam, knowing it's selfish to wish he was in New Dodge with them.]

For now, you won't have to worry about us being your cause of death. You only have me to torment you.

[ If there was a way to choose how he dies it would be death by Gansey and Adam. If only Gansey knew how sweet his torment could be. How achingly sweet and wanted. ]

Parrish is probably bent over an engine right now, getting his hands greasy and smudging his face.

[ When Ronan thought of Adam he saw eyelashes and eyes with too much calculating and not enough freedom staring back at him. ]

[For a moment, Gansey is at a loss for words, grateful that the sound of the engine will cover the lapse. He knew Ronan's preferences, but not that he preferred a certain person.

A strange twist of jealousy catches in his chest, but he's not sure who he feels jealous of and why it's accompanied by painful disappointment.]

He probably is. Even if he's not at work, he's probably trying to repair the Hondayota.

What the fuck is a Hondayota?

[ Ronan is imagining Gansey bent over an engine, probably still wearing his usual comfortable Gansey clothes, and accidentally smudging his face right next to his intensely happy smile. ]

You'd better buy yourself some jeans and t-shirts if you're going to go for the mechanic look.

The shitbox.

[He winces as he says the more favored name for Adam's car. It seems ungrateful when Helen had been clever enough to figure out a way around Adam's pride. The car is awful, but it's Adam's and it's important to him.]

Wait... you haven't seen it yet. When we were in D.C., Helen gave Adam a car of questionable manufacture.

I'll go shopping tomorrow and buy something more work appropriate.

I'm coming with you.

[ Not that Gansey couldn't pick out his own clothes, but if he was going to try on jeans and t-shirts Ronan wanted to be there. To make sure they fit. Or he would need to stop by the garage and he'd already decided that would be bad for the person touching his fathers car. ]

Shitbox seems appropriate. I'm surprised he accepted a gift from Helen.

You want to go shopping with me.

[Shopping isn't normally an activity that interests Ronan. If Ronan wanted to go with him, it probably meant he's still worried about insects. Although Gansey's not certain how Ronan plans to protect him if there are bees in a store.]

I am capable of purchasing clothing without assistance.

It's a long story, but Helen and my parents managed to convince him to accept a few gifts.

[ Good for Adam. He deserves to be given gifts. Ronan can't think of a single thing Adam would accept from him. ]

Have you seen your wardrobe?

[ Feeling far less hostile over the job and car situation, Ronan inhaled and blew it out his nose. ]

Just come get me already.

There is nothing wrong with my wardrobe!

[He likes bright colors and his shoes are comfortable. He'll have to get new ones for working at the shop, but that would be because of practicality.]

I'll be there in a minute.

[He may have underestimated the time, but in a few minutes the Pig should be visible.]

Ronan was glaring. Nothing in particular, just glaring. When the Pig pulled up he wrenched the door open and slammed it shut.

"You're an old man."

Ronan smelled like dry grass and horses and sweat. He needed a shower.

"I need a new pair of boots." Which meant he was coming with Gansey to shop.

The glare was expected, as was the violence necessary to open and close the door. As he'd told Ronan before, this version of the Pig was nearly identical...right down to the doors having the forcefully closed for the latch to catch properly.

"I am not. I'm eighteen." At least that was what he'd claim while he was in New Dodge. The truth might result in the two of them being separated, something completely unacceptable to them both.

Gansey looked down at the boots in question, knowing that Ronan wouldn't track anything unpleasant into the Camaro, but letting his skepticism over that announcement become obvious. He put the car into gear and headed for where they'd stored the BMW. "Can you be polite to Mercy?"

Ronan didn't dignify that with a single word, just a pointed look. And then he turned to stare out the window. Boomtown wasn't anything like Henrietta. It was foreign in a way nothing back home would feel to him.

"Do you think they notice we're gone?" Did time keep moving there? They'd been promised they would return home at the exact moment they had been taken. Stolen. Kidnapped. But he wondered and worried about Adam more than he did about Matthew and Declan. Fucking Delcan would at the very least make sure Matthew was taken care of. But who would be there for Adam?

"Remember that she's my supervisor now." Not that it would matter to Ronan. He'd say what he thought no matter the consequences. Knowing that she was the one person who would get the BMW back on the road might help, but it might also provoke Ronan's temper.

Making a thoughtful sound, he considered the question. When Gansey arrived, he asked about how time would work for his return, but not how it would flow while he was away. "I don't know," he answered, knowing Ronan would prefer the truth to possibly false reassurances. "They said no one would know we were missing. I asked half a dozen people, and they all said it'd be as if I never left.

"Technically, you were taken from a point in time before I was. I don't remember you being gone. I remember the party and that you sent me texts." He stared out the windshield with more focus than the road merited as he avoided thinking about one particular text. "Or Kavinsky did. There's no gaps in my memory or moments when I wondered if you were missing."

Ronan frowned a bit, turning to look at Gansey. He didn't remember sending Gansey texts while Gansey was at his parents party. He definitely didn't remember Kavinsky using his phone or he would have broken his nose.

"What was in the texts?" Plural, he noted. More than one text and Gansey seemed to be hyper focused on the road.

If Gansey hadn't noticed he was gone then it was possible Declan and Matthew wouldn't notice. They would be fine. Adam would be fine. "What did Kavinsky send you?"

He wouldn't have texted Gansey. Not when he was focused on bringing the Pig back to life. He wouldn't have texted Gansey even if Monmouth had been on fire and Blue's head had started to spin on her shoulders. Maybe if Monmouth had been on fire he might.

Sensing that Ronan was watching him, he tried to relax while maintaining his focus on the road. Gansey knew that Ronan would figure out something was wrong. There was no way he could hide it. They knew each other too well for even the various Gansey III personas to work.

Even if they might deflect Ronan's curiosity, the lie would be unforgivable. So would the fact that he hadn't deleted the texts immediately. A few days after the event, he might have been able to say that shock had kept him from thinking of it. Weeks later, that excuse held little value. "He texted me to tell me that you wrecked the Pig." He paused a beat, hoping that Ronan wouldn't notice. "He sent a photo."

Maybe Ronan would think the photo was of the ruined Camaro.

"I called you and he answered. He that you were drunk and that the Camaro 'had half a face'." The words had been etched into his mind, still sharp despite sitting in a more wondrous version of the Pig. "Then he made his usual juvenile comments related to his assumptions about us and hung up."

All of this made sense knowing Kavinsky the way he did. He imagined just how crazy things would have gotten if he hadn't ended up here after his fits failure. Frustration over the imperfection and Kavinsky pushing him always would end badly no matter how much he liked to pretend he was in control.

He also knew of Kavinsky's deeper desires. He was jealous of Gansey and so he always made assumptions. Because he knew. Or...he thought he knew. Ronan could always deny them because at the time he and Gansey were best friends, brothers even. So there was never any lies, just flexible truths.

"What was the picture he sent?"

Not the Pig. He already knew it wasn't the Pig. The Pig would be too boring of a photo. Kavinsky would have sent something he knew would get a reaction from Gansey. More than the Pig would.

His hands tightened around the steering wheel, knowing that he was caught and he would have to deal with the repercussions of his actions. Pulling the Pig onto the shoulder, he reminded himself that Ronan would forgive him eventually. His anger rarely lasted more than a few days if Gansey was the target of his ire.

Glancing over at Ronan, he braced himself for his friend's reaction. "At first, I didn't know Kavinsky sent it. It was from your number. I thought it was a joke or you were enjoying the wilder aspects of Aglionby society." That didn't explain why the picture was still on Gansey's phone, but at least Ronan knew that Gansey hadn't known the circumstances involving the picture.

"He sent an inappropriate photo. Of you. And an Irish flag." He still wondered about that particular detail, but he rarely understood Kavinsky's motives or amusements.

Gansey was actually pulling over. Which meant he was seriously concerned about Ronan's reaction and because it was Kavinsky Ronan knew it could be anything. Except boring.

Ronan tilted his head just a bit, curious because clearly the pic had been of himself.

And then he raised an eyebrow.

The next time he saw Kavinsky he was breaking his nose. Twice.

"He sent you a dick pic."

It wasn't that Gansey had seen a picture of his dick. It was Kavinsky. He felt like he needed a shower now.

"Half mast?" He asked curiously, keeping a straight face.

He wondered if Gansey being so uncomfortable sharing this with him meant he wasn't at all comfortable with having seen an intimate part of Ronan. To be honest, he felt slightly cheated because if Gansey was going to see that part of him he would have wanted it to be a mutual sharing. Not Gansey pulling off to the side of the road, looking worried about the entire situation.

Richard Gansey III should be able to accept any situation and smile through it without anyone realizing how uncomfortable he was. He'd managed it when Kavinsky told him that the Pig was wrecked, only seeming distracted or perhaps slightly ill as he'd processed the news. Just Gansey had a different set of reactions that couldn't quite sync with the ones he'd been taught since he was a toddler.

"Yes." He closed his eyes, waiting for his best friend's anger. "He sent me a dick pic."

Ronan's question distracted him from his preparation for the verbal explosion. He turned, staring at Ronan as he fumbled for an answer. "It - uh - " Now he couldn't stop himself from blushing over his reaction to the picture after Ronan had given him the newly minted Pig. At the time he'd received the message, he'd been too shocked and then worried to consider the implications of the photo. Then he'd alternated between a myriad of reactions that were all inappropriate and would most likely result in Ronan punching him. "It was artistic, in a Kavinsky sort of way."

Kavinsky who always angered Gansey no matter how much he tried to control his temper. It didn't matter that Kavinsky was dead, he still hated how he'd led Ronan into danger. That he'd taken advantage of Ronan when he was desperate and he'd... "I didn't know he done it when you were..." The anger in his words startled him, an old jealousy he rarely acknowledged snapping in his tone. "If I'd known he'd done that to you, I would have - " His voice trailed off as he realized how foolish that sounded. God, Ronan didn't need him to try to defend his honor. Gansey couldn't even punch someone without breaking his hand. "I didn't know."

Gansey was blushing. A real blush. And he sounded...Ronan didn't take his gaze off Gansey, absorbing every detail, trying to read what was really happening. Kavinsky always set Gansey off. But he'd never seen Gansey react this way.

"Do you still have the picture?" He asked suddenly, his voice calm and curious, not explosive or taunting. This reaction of Gansey's started something in his chest that he was almost too scared to call hope. He shouldn't want to hope for something more with Gansey and risk losing the only family he had left besides Matthew and Declan. He didn't live with Matthew or Declan. He lived with Gansey. He loved Gansey.

The smallest bit of hope when there was previous none at all was a dangerous thing and difficult to ignore.

"I know you would."

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