incognoscibilis | I know you're always on the night shift

With Adam working as much as he does and occasionally staying out late at the library to study, Ronan's started getting better at actually keeping his phone on him. He still uses it about as much as he ever has, but at least Adam knows he'll likely be able to reach Ronan if he needs to. And it's come in useful more than once, typically when Adam's hungry and either stuck at work or locked into studying.

Tonight, when Ronan's phone buzzes, he only frowns down at the screen. Adam's not asking for food or a ride home, just mentions he'll likely be home late and to not wait up.

Ronan doesn't reply at all, but an hour later, he shoves on his boots and grabs his wallet and keys and head's out. It's only a ten minute drive to West's, less when Ronan's at the wheel, even when it's just the Pig.

He revs the engine obnoxiously when he pulls up, just enough to get Adam's attention before he turns it off and steps out, pocketing the keys.

Adam starts cursing internally until he sees the car and knows that this isn't some last minute repair job. Given that Gansey would never rev the engine to get Adam's attention, there's only one person that it can be and Adam leans against the door frame, hip cocked.

"Shop's closed," he says. "You'll have to bring that back in the morning." There's a very faint smirk on his face, like he's trying not to have it at all.

There's an itch under Ronan's skin, one that's been there since the phone call he'd received that afternoon.

It's only more urgent when he takes in the sight of Adam in the doorway, backlight with his hip cocked, clad in overalls that have always gotten under Ronan's skin. They're not form-fitting at all, do little to show off the lean muscles of his arms and thighs. They're covered in dark streaks and, as Ronan steps closer, he can smell motor oil and grease.

It goes straight to his cock.

"Afraid this can't wait 'til morning," he says, grinning wolfishly as he presses into Adam's personal space. "You here by yourself?"

There's a hunger in Ronan's eyes and Adam leans back against the doorframe, arms crossed even as Ronan pushes into his space. Adam doesn't think Ronan even currently possesses the subtlety to pretend an ulterior motive when he looks that feral.

"You sound like you've been watching too much bad porn dialogue," Adam says without answering Ronan's question. Because he has no doubt of where this is going.

Ronan's lips twitch into a brighter smirk as he crowds in a bit closer, head tipped to meet Adam's eyes.

There's a smudge of grease on Adam's cheek and Ronan brings his hand up to smear it further, right across his right cheekbone, the backs of his fingers grazing Adam's jaw.

"I'm looking out for your fucking safety, Parrish," he says, settling his other hand on Adam's side, right above his hip. "Should at least keep the door locked when you're here alone; there's werewolves and shit in this place."

"Christ, Ronan," Adam says. "Be serious." Or, at the very least, be a little less obvious. Not that Adam's actually doing much to stop him. He doesn't lean into Ronan's hold but he's not pushing away either. Mostly, he's curious as to what's gotten Ronan into this mood.

He's not sure what to make of Ronan like this. Not horny, he's plenty used to that happening for both of them. It's the fact that Ronan's sought him out instead of waiting for Adam to come home.

"Oh, I'm serious," Ronan insists, crowding in close enough to push Adam back through the door, kicking it closed behind him. And making sure to lock it.

He never looks away from Adam once, eyes dark as he reaches for him again, a hand on Adam's hip. "There cameras in this place?" he asks as he walks Adam backwards toward the nearest wall, lips still curled in a lazy, hungry grin.

Adam raises a brow at him. "I'm not sure which answer to give." He puts a hand on Ronan's chest, keeping a little bit of distance between them, clearly still waiting for an explanation.

"This is new," he prompts. Head cocked again. There's no disapproval in his face, just curiosity.

It's obvious Adam wants an explanation but, for the moment, Ronan only grins. He doesn't push any further though, dropping his hand to Adam's shoulder and then over the front of his chest.

"Heard back from the clinic today," he says, watching Adam a little more carefully now. He isn't sure whether Adam will be as excited about this as he is, whether it'll feel like such a big deal or not. His skin feels too tight over his bones for a moment, but he pushes on. Even if Adam isn't as eager for this news as Ronan had been, he doesn't think Adam will be an ass about it. "All clear."

So there's the reason and Adam tries to keep the interest from showing too obviously on his face. He'd gotten his results called in before he left for work, also clear. Now he wants to say the fuck with the Subaru because they need to get into the car and go home now. That last puzzle piece clicks through Adam and makes him want to be irresponsible, to blow it all off and come in early instead.

"I need to...I said I'd get that damn Subaru done tonight," he says, a token protest.

Ronan glances over then at the car already lifted up on hydraulics in the bay, as though seeing it for the first time.

His lips twitch into a slow grin when he looks back to Adam and he takes a half step back. "So get it done," he says, nodding over toward it. "Or will me staying here be too distracting?"

"Don't be a shitbag, Ronan," he says out of habit. There's affection in his voice when he says it, desire, and Adam tries not to think about the shiver that's rattling down his spine at the way Ronan threw out that command.

"Just got to get it done. Then we can go home and..." Adam looks over his shoulder and smiles back to Ronan and then goes over to finish his task.

It's a familiar remark by now, damn near fond in that tone of voice and that way Adam looks at him before he starts back toward the busted Subaru.

Smirking, Ronan wanders toward the bench near the far wall, the surface of it covered in tool boxes and greased engine parts and dirtied rags. The edge of it digs the small of his back as he leans against it, crossing his legs at the ankles as he watches Adam lower himself back to the ground, long legs stretching out when he disappears beneath the undercarriage.

There's something about the smell of motor oil that's always gotten under Ronan's skin and it's heightened now. Maybe because of the anticipation or because he gets a front row seat at watching Adam work or the fact that they're in here alone.

He glances up then, squinting toward the upper corner of the garage then along the edge to the other corner until his eyes catch on what is definitely a camera hanging from the ceiling. "Parrish," he calls out then, loud enough so Adam can hear him under the metal bulk as he pushes himself away from the work bench. "What's the password for the computer in this place?"

"The computer password is 'Don't do it, Ronan,'" Adam says, laying down on his back to get underneath the car.

He resents the boring task and his volunteering to do it more than ever but at least now he has a distinct motivation to do it quickly. Not sloppily though. Adam still makes sure his work is thorough, beyond reproach. If the security cameras are about to catch him fleeing the scene for a tryst, he thinks he should make sure his repairs are up to par.

A short time, an eternity later, Adam slides out from under the car, fingers and forehead marked with grease. Immediately, he looks in Ronan's direction, interest piqued but also with mild suspicion. Ronan, like his raven, is prone to ripping things apart when left to his own devices.

"Already tried that one,," Ronan shoots back with a smirk as he heads over to a computer in the far corner. A few taps of the keys and the bouncing screensaver disappears. He considers trying a few passwords, but he knows how that shit can go as far as locking Adam out completely so he only tries one before giving up and distracting himself with fiddling with a socket wrench for awhile. And then going through the drawers of an enormous toolbox on the other end before finally he decides it's more interesting to just watch Adam.

He's resting back against the bench again when Adam reemerges, his hands dark with grease and a few more smudges marking his forehead. Ronan soaks up the sight of him for a moment, eyes dark as he drops a hand to the front of his jeans, relieving some of the sudden pressure there.

"I can dream up a new tape," he says then, gaze still locked on Adam, all intent. "Sneak in here tomorrow morning before hours and replace the one from tonight. Just a thought."

"Don't be crude," Adam says, suddenly realizing that there's no waiting until they get home. Ronan's already looking at him, all hunger and desire, a hand between his legs. If Adam's thinking straight, he'd insist that Ronan get them into the car immediately.

But he's also aware that there are other people at Hywel and West's is empty. He's also pretty sure, from what he'd known of Jax, that they wouldn't be the first people to fuck in the break room. As long as they done't do anything to the coffee maker, he's pretty sure no one will care.

"I'll turn the cameras off."

Ronan isn't honestly expecting Adam to agree. He's expecting another exasperated look and a roll of hazel eyes. Expecting Adam pushing him back into the Pig and either rutting in the backseat like the teenagers they are or speeding all the way back to Hywel.

But with just those four words, Ronan goes instantly hard and his face breaks into a wide smile.

He doesn't waste a second, too worried Adam might suddenly change his mind as he turns to head straight for the break room. He knows exactly where it is by now, having seen it dozens of times in his various trips to annoy Adam at work and he flips the switch as soon as he's stepped in, skin suddenly too tight over his bones as he waits for Adam to hurry up with the cameras and join him.

"Just storm in like you own the place, why don't you?" Adam calls from the bank of computers. He's visible through the raised blinds and glass, leaning back against the workbench. He can see Ronan and his obvious arousal and it puts a shiver through Adam to remind him that Ronan's like that because of him.

Stepping over, Adam is in the doorway of the break room, leaned on the doorframe again, and watching him.

Ronan can see Adam through the pane of glass and he steps back to rest against the edge of the table that's pressed up against the far wall, legs spread and eyes dark as he watches Adam tap a few keys on the computer before turning to head over. His grin widens, anticipation flashing hot under his skin when Adam heads over and pushes away to meet him at the door.

"You have no idea how many times I've thought about fucking you here," he admits with a smirk, his voice dropping low. Adam's overalls don't offer much in the way of handholds, but he dips a finger in the loop off his hip, one that's ostensibly for holding tools, and tugs Adam away from the doorframe. "Just shoving this damn thing down low enough to get inside you."

"Christ, Ronan. They're coveralls, not lingerie." Even as he says it, Adam lets Ronan pull him closer in just that little touch. "You've got weird taste in sexy clothes."

Not that it seems to deter Ronan. Not that it's doing much to deter Adam either, not when Ronan's voice is low and just feral enough to make him shiver. It feels just a little bit dangerous in a way that makes Adam a little sick with the thrill.

"Fuck you, don't judge me," Ronan says though the only heat in his tone is decidedly nothing to do with any sort of irritation.

His lips are still curled into a smirk and he slides his hand up the plane of Adam's chest to find the top button and zip of his coveralls, dragging it down slowly as he rests his other hand on Adam's hip. "So is that a no then?" he asks, pressing in close and ducking into Adam's neck and breathing in the scent of sweat and grease and hard work.

"Did you hear me say no?" Adam says. It's an absurd thing to ask especially given how careful they are, how much a clear yes means to both of them after a lifetime of having everything out of their control.

But Ronan's also right up against Adam's neck in a way that makes him feel over-aware of his own skin.

"Might be," Ronan says, though he doesn't back away at all, instead pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the soft skin of Adam's neck as he sneaks a hand inside the parted fabric of Adam's coveralls, smoothing over the t-shirt just beneath, fingertips curling to slide the cotton up slightly though he doesn't touch bare skin at all.

It's still not a yes, not yet, but Ronan knows well enough now the ways in which Adam says no even unspoken and he takes two steps forward, backing Adam up against the wall as his drags his lips up to the curve of Adam's jaw. "We can go home if you want," he promises, but he tilts his hips then too and presses close so Adam feel the length of him against his hip.

Adam lets out a shaky breath and tilts his head backward, acquiescing to the kisses along his throat and jaw. The thing is that he knows Ronan's serious. As hard as Ronan's dick is, as warm as Adam feels under his coveralls, if Adam said they had to go, Ronan would do it.

And that makes this okay.

"I already turned off the security cameras, Ronan. You might as well follow through," he says. Leaned back against the wall, he shifts up one leg, hooking it around Ronan.

It isn't exactly an enthusiastic response; it's barely even a yes, but the slide of Adam's leg around his is nothing but inviting and it's all Ronan needs.

His hips rock down against the press of Adam's pelvis, his cock hard through his jeans as he founds Adam's mouth, growling into the warm, wet heat he's been craving for hours as he shoves his hand further down Adam's coveralls, finally getting his fingertips beneath the thin fabric of Adam's shirt, bunching it up his side to get to the skin beneath.

I know you're always on the night shift

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