Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Declan wasn’t sure what lured him in. Maybe it was Jiang’s tattoos, or his nimble fingers that could throw an expert punch, maybe it was just the way Jiang looked after a fight. Nose bloody, but smile bright enough to blind the world. It didn’t matter either way, because Jiang was sat beside him on his dorm bed, humming quietly under his breath.

Textbooks lay around the room, some on the floor, most on the bed. Jiang was reading something from one of them and Declan looked up from his own textbook, trying to make sense of Jiang. Their study sessions usually went like this - both of them working their way through the material on their own and then reciting what they read to the other. This time, however, Jiang was awfully quiet, frowning at whatever he was going over. Declan wondered if he had done or said something to upset Jiang.

He was about to comment on it, but then Jiang looked up as well, smiling as he noticed Declan had been watching him.

“What’s up?” Jiang asked and Declan rolled his eyes, shrugging his shoulders slightly, then pointed to Jiang’s textbook.

“You were frowning at it. What is it about? Do you need any help?”

Jiang checked the open book, then set it onto Declan’s lap, nudging him a bit. “You’re Irish, yeah?”

“Yeah...So?” Declan thought that Jiang had known that all of the Lynch brothers were Irish and that they were proud of their heritage. He didn’t understand why this was brought up all of a sudden.

“See,” Jiang gestured to his book, “This chapter is about the Celts and I was wondering: if you’re Irish, you should know a lot about them, right?”

Declan’s expression turned sour. Sure, he was Irish, but he had grown up in Henrietta and did not know of any relatives in Ireland. All he knew about Irish culture - and the Celts - were things he had picked up from his father or from his history lessons, and as his father had always liked him the least, the things didn’t amount to much.

“I don’t know much,” he said after a while, sighing as he pulled the textbook closer, letting his eyes drift over the information about the Celts and their culture. Most of the information was known to him, they had covered it in History the year before and he had been (un)lucky enough to write an essay on their culture and their travels. “But I’m sure together we can get through this.”

Jiang grinned, kissing Declan’s cheek and grabbed for his notebook, which had lay on the ground. “Thanks, Dec. You’re a lifesaver.”

There was a harsh knock at Declan’s door. He slid from his desk chair and walked across the messy room, opening the door to Jiang, who was dressed in black. Jiang had a smirk on his lips as he stepped into the room. It was early in the morning, and Declan imagined he was the only one awake on his floor. Jiang greeted Declan by shoving a coffee into his hands and tossing his backpack onto the floor next to the bed.

“Planning on staying over?” Declan asked, a small grin on his lips, soon hidden with the coffee cup.

“Nah, K, has some shit planned for tonight and we’re supposed to be there,” Jiang replied, taking his own sip of his drink, “How do you feel about my drawings?”

Declan shrugged and set the cup down next to all the empty ones he had meant to clean up. “They’re fine, I haven’t looked at many, but I like all the ones you’ve showed me, why?”

“Just because,” Jiang shrugged, putting his cup beside Declan’s, kneeling down to rummage through his bag instead. He pulled out a small package of paints and the smirk on his face was back in full force, “You’re going to be my canvas today.”

Even though Declan was sceptical about it, he took off his shirt, carefully folding it together as he walked back to his bed, laying down on it. He turned his head to the side, folding his arms to support his head and watched as Jiang walked over, opening the paints and taking out the brushes.

Jiang’s hands on his back were cold, but as Jiang first simply massaged his back, kneading the skin, Declan relaxed and let out a soft sigh, letting his eyes close. He didn’t notice Jiang taking out something that resembled a pencil and only hummed, when a very gentle line was placed on his back. Another few lines were added between his shoulderblades and Jiang moved downwards, mapping out his lines and the overall placement. When he put his hand on Declan’s side for a second, a little laugh escaped Declan’s mouth and he blushed.

“Ticklish?” Jiang asked, the smile on his face evident in his voice, but he didn’t stop tracing blue lines onto Declan’s back.

Declan hid his face more to his hands. “A little.”

Jiang chuckled, but soon finished the sketch, then grabbed for his brushes and the paint. He uncapped the blues, mixed some of them together to get a desired hue and then sat comfortably onto Declan’s ass.

“These might be cold,” He warned, then started filling out the lines. The gentle touch of the bristles was enough to let Declan know something was happening, but they weren’t enough to make him laugh from the feeling. Jiang painted with precision and the soft strokes transferred the paint to Declan’s skin, staining it from tanned to light blue.

“The Celtics were one of the first tribes in Europe to get tattoos,” Jiang’s voice was as solid and as gentle as his movements with the brush, “They used needles to puncture the skin and then rubbed some kind of a paste into the fresh wounds. When everything was healed they had the most badass blue tattoos ever.” He reached  to the side to dab some more paint onto the brush and then continued filling in the lines he had previously done.

“Usually warriors had the best tattoos, you know, to freak out the enemies before they even got to bashing each other’s heads in.”

Declan gave a soft ‘aha’, trying to imagine what Jiang was drawing onto his back, but then Jiang switched to a smaller brush and what Declan had imagined turned hazy as more and more lines were added. Jiang started to colour in smaller lines, making the design on Declan’s back more intricate. He mixed together more shades of blue, adding different layers and shadows.

“Warriors got like knots on their arms and chests, but I mean, I know you wear white shirts and if the paint doesn’t wash off it’ll suck to walk around with a blue chest. You’ll be like a fucking Smurf.” Jiang lined something on Declan’s shoulder blade and leaned really close, trying to get it to be as detailed as possible. “The Celtic knots symbolize the connections in life, so family or just life journey,” As he said that, Declan could almost feel Jiang add three knot-like designs between his shoulderblades.

Jiang quieted then and Declan’s thoughts drifted off, imagining blue swirls and circles, all woven into something beautiful on his back. He trusted Jiang’s artistic abilities and knew that if Jiang had looked up Celtic tattoos, he wouldn’t just draw pretty flowers onto Declan’s back. Still, Declan wondered what it would look like. He knew that Ronan’s tattoo was influenced by their Irish heritage, but he doubted that Jiang would put a copy of Ronan’s tattoo onto his back; as much as Declan knew, Jiang hadn’t even seen Ronan’s tattoo up close. Or maybe he had. Declan didn’t know what his brother had been up to.

It took Jiang about twenty minutes to get the lines as he wanted and he gently ran his hand through Declan’s hair. “Hey, sleepyhead,” he mumbled, smearing some of the half dried paint into the tips of Declan’s dark hair. “Wakey-wakey. It’s finished. Can I take a picture before you go check it out in the mirror?”

He hadn’t even noticed he had dozed off. Declan yawned, rubbing his face against his arms and gave an approving hum. He was still a bit out of it, but he kept still as Jiang grabbed his phone and snapped a few pictures. The sound of the pictures being taken woke Declan up  more and he looked over his shoulder at Jiang, a brow arched. Another picture was snapped and Jiang smiled sheepishly.

“Fine, fine. All done now. Do you want to see?” Jiang got off of Declan’s body and Declan got up, walking to the mirror that stood in his bathroom. It took some time for him to clearly understand the blue lines and what they made up, but when he did, his eyes widened in surprise and shock.

Jiang had drawn a huge Celtic cross on his back, it starting from the nape of his neck and running all the way down to the edge of his pants. The crossbar ran under his shoulder blades, almost extending to his sides, but stopping an inch or two from them. The intersection was a big circle, comprising of many Celtic knots, each one of them defined with darker and lighter hues of blue. Declan stood a bit closer to the mirror, examining the lines, some of them sharp and bringing contrast with their light blue hue, some of them nearly black, teasing the viewer with swirls and dips in the places Jiang felt they would be most noticed - under Declan’s shoulder blades where  the crossbar lay and in the middle of his shoulder blades where the carefully placed brushwork brought out three bigger swirls, all meeting in the centre for a tender embrace.

“Triskelion,” Jiang said, coming to stand next to Declan. He traced one of the curves of the symbol, “The past,” Jiang said quietly, moving his finger to the middle. It stayed there for a second, then Jiang ran the pad of his finger over the second branch that extended towards Declan’s left arm. “The present.” As he touched the last curve, Jiang looked into the mirror and looked into Declan’s eyes.

“The future.” Declan said and Jiang nodded, shrugging a bit.

“It’s not much. Just-” He shrugged again and then took a step back, putting his hand on his neck, scratching the back of it. “I mean, it’s like, you know-”

Jiang didn’t get to finish his sentence. Declan leaned towards him and gave him a kiss, grabbing Jiang’s shirt to pull him even closer. Jiang gasped as Declan literally took his breath away and kissed back, almost melting into the touch. Paint-stained hands met with Declan Lynch’s perfect face and cupped his cheeks, leaving faint blue marks on the sides of his face, and when they pulled away, Declan snorted at his reflection.

“You were right about the Smurf thing,” he told Jiang, getting a towel and wetting a corner of it to wipe the paint off of his face. “This colour sure makes me look like one.”

Jiang smirked, crossing his arms. “A hot one.”

Declan laughed, throwing the wet towel at Jiang after he finished cleaning up.

Jiang repacked his bag and sat beside Declan. He took out his phone and pulled up the pictures he had taken, showing them to Declan.

With a smile, Declan paused at the last one, “Send me these, yeah?”

Jiang rolled his eyes and took his phone back, standing to pull his own sweater back on, “Check your phone.”

He pulled his bag back on his shoulders and put an arm on the bed, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Declan’s lips.

“See you tomorrow,” Jiang nodded, pulling away, making his way to the door. He paused, as if waiting for a response, but Declan was too distracted by his phone to notice. Jiang shook his head once and stepped into the now busier halls of the dorm, and headed back home.

Hearing the click of the door, Declan looked up to find himself alone again. He saved his favourite pictures and texted Jiang a ‘thank you’, before opening up Instagram. Sure, he wasn’t the most popular boy in Aglionby, but he had enough followers to earn a satisfying hundred to hundred fifty likes with every picture he uploaded. He cropped his favourite photo to focus less on him looking at Jiang and more on the blue on his back. Happy with the photo, he added a quick ‘#art’ and uploaded it. He didn’t tag Jiang because nobody else knew of their relationship and he wanted to keep it more mysterious. Almost immediately his phone was filled with notifications, likes from usernames he hadn’t heard before, and comments from usernames he had, most of them asking the same thing.

“Who is wearing the grey sweats?”

Chapter Text

The person in the grey sweatpants was what everyone was asking Declan about for the next few days. Even though he didn’t mind people being curious, after a few dozen times it started to bother him and when he passed Jiang in the hallway on Friday, he glared at him, then pointed to the phone in Jiang’s hand. They had long before agreed on the gesture meaning they had to talk over the phone. Jiang just nodded, continuing to talk to his friends, laughing at something Swan had said.

As soon as Declan flopped down on his bed, his phone rang and Jiang’s voice greeted him.

“What’s up, Dec?”

Declan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Everyone’s going on about the grey sweats. It’s getting on my nerves.”

Jiang laughed and then said into the receiver, “I’m sorry, babe. You looked good on that picture tho. All sleepy and hair messy, giving me the bedroom eyes.” He lowered his voice and almost purred into the phone. “Too bad we had class an hour later…”

“Jiang!” Declan’s cheeks had already began to light up. “We’re not discussing those kinds of things right now! You’re with your friends! And I have to meet my brothers soon for a Friday night bowling thing.” Even if him and Ronan still barely talked, Matthew had talked them into going out every other Friday to have some brotherly bonding time. This Friday it was bowling night and Declan wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

Jiang gave another laugh and then huffed, “Fine, fine. I’ll text you later? Greet your brothers!” He made a kissing noise and Declan smiled, making one back. “Text you later yeah.”

They hung up and Declan was almost excited when his phone buzzed, expecting a text from Jiang. Instead it was someone commenting on the picture on Instagram, tagging Ronan to it.

‘@rolynch have u seen this shit ronan haha looks like your brother upped the tattoo game!!’

Declan tossed his phone onto the bed, hiding his face in his hands with a groan.

Jiang sat in the living room with his friends, feet on the table, a controller in his hand. Him, Prokopenko and Kavinsky were playing Mario Kart and yelling at each other, Kavinsky trying to elbow him in the ribs so that he would win. They finished a race, Kavinsky placing last and he screamed out a bunch of curse words and then flung himself over Prokopenko’s lap in the most dramatic way possible. Prokopenko smiled, then ruffled Kavinsky’s hair, bopping him on the nose before placing a little kiss on his forehead.

“Rematch?” He asked, looking up from Kavinsky’s upset face to Jiang and Jiang nodded, hitting the replay button.

The rest of the pack was upstairs. Swan’s favourite pair of sweatpants were missing and Skov was helping him to look for them. Swan’s closet was full of clothes and they had already spent an hour going through the clothes, but had found nothing yet; no pants, no clues.

“Are they these?” Skov held up a pair of very short shorts that were grey and smirked, eyeing Swan up and down. “Maybe you should put these on. Just in case.”

Swan, who had thought that Skov had found his sweatpants had already gotten excited, but when he saw the shorts Skov was holding up, he groaned, shaking his head. “Skov, no, I’m not going to wear booty shorts, it’s not even that warm outside!”

Skov rolled his eyes, clearly thinking that it was warm enough, but he tossed the pants back onto the shelf he had picked them up from. “Whatever. I don’t see any other grey pants here. Maybe you left them lying around and someone took them?”

He did have a point there. Swan had left plenty of clothes laying around and his friends had picked them up. He had seen Kavinsky wear his shirts, had noticed Prokopenko wear some of his  shoes and him and Jiang wore the same pants’ size.

“So you’re suggesting we go through the others’ rooms?” Swan asked, walking to Skov and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close enough to kiss the top of his head. Skov hummed, leaning into Swan’s side and nodded, wrapping his own arm around Swan’s lanky frame. He led Swan out of the closet and out of his room, then pointed at two doors. “Jiang’s room or Proko’s?” Even if Kavinsky had seen Swan’s sweats lie around, he wouldn’t have picked them up; he was too short to wear them and he did not clean up after anyone.

“Let’s go with Proko. You know how he gets with his laundry,” Swan said, opening the door for Skov and Skov snorted, walking into the tidy room. For Skov, Prokopenko had always been a very tidy person who kept his things organised and his room clean. Swan could remember the old days when it was hard to find the floor under the old crisp packets and beer bottles.

Together they pulled open the drawers and checked if Prokopenko had borrowed Swan’s pants, but they found nothing. The most interesting thing they found was a scrapbook in the sock drawer, filled with pictures of the pack and little descriptions under them. There were pictures of parties, pictures of them in their cars, even one where Kavinsky was looking more quiet and blissful than he had ever been, laying in the long summer grass, sunglasses off and a soft smile on his face. Prokopenko was laying next to him, a cigarette between his fingers, a bright smile on his face, looking at Kavinsky with the most loving and serene expression Swan had ever seen on his face. Skov picked the picture up and eyed it, turning it over to check the date.

“What’s so special about 25th June?”

Swan looked at the picture as well, a sad smile on his face. He knew what was special about June 25th, but to Skov he just said, “Kavinsky and Proko went on a date. I think they just needed some time away from the city. Stayed in a lake house for a few days.”

The truth was more than just that, but it was not his story to tell. Or maybe it wasn’t something one could even tell - you either lived it or you knew nothing of it.

Instead he sighed and kissed the top of Skov’s head again, then pulled away and groaned, laying down on Proko’s made bed. “The pants are not here. It’s either Jiang or they’re in the washing machine.” He huffed when Skov flopped down onto him. Skov kissed him to apologise for having done that without any warning, and then poked Swan’s cheek. “Don’t get pouty. You can always get like another pair, yeah?”

Swan wrapped his arms around Skov, holding him close and nodded. “Mhm. I can. Just thought I’d first try to find them.” He tried not to smile as Skov kissed his neck and gently shoved his face away. “C'mon, don’t do that, we’re in Proko’s bed.” Skov completely ignored that and took Swan’s hand, holding it as he leaned down again, sucking a hickey onto Swan’s skin.

They kissed for a while and then Skov slid off of Swan, getting off the bed as well. “To Jiang’s room then?” He held out his hand and Swan took it, pulling himself up. If Prokopenko didn’t have his sweatpants, maybe Jiang had them.

Jiang’s room was less clean than Proko’s room had been. Dirty clothes, paintbrushes and old dried paints lay on the floor or were carelessly tossed onto the surfaces. The walls were covered with drawings or doodles and a few canvases that Jiang had drawn on. One of them showed a scene with a car going up in flames, the other two guys with blood gushing out of their noses, arms wrapped around their shoulders. And on the third one-

“Why the fuck did he draw flowers?” Skov asked, pointing to a canvas that stood over Jiang’s bed. “And why the fuck are they all pink?”

Swan was too busy looking for his pants in the heap of clothes on the floor to answer. He just shrugged, tossing aside five black shirts that looked exactly the same. He didn’t know why Jiang drew pink flowers and he didn’t care. Instead he tossed aside a plaid shirt and three more black shirts. “You going to help me?” He asked, picking up a pair of dark grey pants, but then realised they were too dark to be the pants he was looking for.

“Nah,” Skov crossed his arms with a smirk. “The view’s pretty good here.” His eyes were almost glued to Swan’s ass and Swan sighed, wondering how exactly he had ended up with dating such a dork. No matter how many times Skov had seen his bare ass, he always behaved like seeing a butt was a big deal.

Then he noticed a pair of grey sweatpants and he pulled them out from the pile of clothes, frowning when he saw some dried blue paint on them. “Oh c’mon, Jiang, really, you just had to get paint everywhere…” Swan mumbled, straightening up and throwing the pants over his shoulder. He had to talk to Jiang, the sooner, the better.

Ushering Skov out of the room, Swan gave the pants another one over. There were definitely some paint stains on the pants that would not be coming out, no matter what he used to wash them. He didn’t know what paints Jiang had used, but if he could find it out, it would help. Maybe.

“Jiang!” Swan called from the top of the stairs, walking down them as Skov almost bounced down, “We gotta talk!”

Jiang groaned from his place on the couch. He had his feet in Kavinsky’s lap and was leaning against the armrest, he was winning the game and now Swan sounded like whatever he wanted to talk about wasn’t going to be fun. He sighed, pausing the game and ignoring Kavinsky shoving his feet off his lap for doing so. “Do we have to? Is this really important?”

Swan nodded and Jiang whined again, turning the Xbox off completely. Kavinsky was just about to lash at him for doing so, but Prokopenko tugged him off the couch, kissing his cheek. "Don't be upset, K, I'll make it up to you," he promised and Kavinsky smirked, following Prokopenko up the stairs, slapping his ass to get him to move faster. Prokopenko laughed, but his voice was soon muffled by the distance and by Kavinsky.

"So," Jiang waited for Skov and Swan to sit down and eyed them over. "What's this about? You need some help solving another argument?" He crossed his arms and then pointed at the sweatpants that hung over Swan's shoulder. "What's this have to do with the sweats?"

Swan tossed Jiang the sweatpants and pointed at some of the blue stains. "Found them in your room. What's up with that?" He wrapped his arm around Skov's middle and pulled him closer, letting the short boy lean against him.

Jiang watched as Skov tried to climb into Swan's lap, but when Swan didn't let him, Skov pouted and leaned against him. Somehow the image made Jiang's heart clench. He would've wanted to sit next to Declan like that as well, leaning against him, maybe telling him how glad he was to have him. But nobody knew of them and his next study session with Declan wasn't until Sunday evening. He didn’t even know if Declan would be coming to the party.

"I borrowed them," Jiang started, trying not to think too much about Declan or how his back had looked after the layer of blue paint graced his perfect skin. "Because I had... an art project. It required some clothes that could get dirty and your pants were the first ones I could find in the morning. Sorry, man." He shrugged, putting one of his legs over the other. It wasn't like Swan couldn't afford another pair of sweatpants.

Swan nodded slowly and paid no mind to Skov, who was scrolling through his phone. "It's okay. What art project are we talking about?"

Jiang was quiet for a while and then sighed. "It's... It's not really for school..." Skov snorted at that, scrolling through his Instagram feed without looking up from his phone. "It was more personal. I was helping a friend unwind," he continued with a little shrug and looked at the sweats once more. "I'll buy you new ones."

"It's alright," Swan said and when Skov tugged at his shirt, looked at what Skov was eyeing. He first saw a picture of a man laying down on a bed, but when he took a closer look, he saw that the man had blue paint on his back and that someone with very familiar grey sweatpants was sitting on his back.

"...You painted Declan Lynch's back?" He finally said, turning to Jiang. "You snuck out at 5 am to drive to school and to splash paint on Declan Lynch's back?" Swan couldn't fathom how Jiang even knew Declan.

“More than splashing,” Skov pointed out, trying to zoom in the picture. “Holy shit, this has a lot of details! What the hell, Jiang? You like dating him?”

Swan was impressed by the details as well. He knew that Jiang was good with a brush in his hand, but he had no idea that he would put so much effort into drawing something that was not permanent onto someone’s skin. He needed an explanation and he needed it now.

With a little sigh, Jiang ran a hand over his eyes and his face, then nodded. “Yeah, I’m like dating him. I don’t know, it’s not official. It’s just, we’re just kicking it, you know. Chilling and having fun, sometimes kissing and stuff. I mean if that’s what you mean by dating then yes, we’re dating.”

He quieted, leaning to rest his elbows on his knees and hid his face in his hands again. How many times had he told Kavinsky not to mess around with Ronan while secretly courting Declan? How many times had he warned Kavinsky that trying to date a Lynch wouldn’t result in anything good?

Jiang waited for his friends to yell at him or for them to tell him he was being stupid, that there was no way someone like Declan Lynch would want to date someone like him. Instead he was surprised to see Skov hold his hand out for Swan and Swan take out his wallet. He watched Swan hand Skov some money and Skov politely thanked his boyfriend.

“You made a bet on it!?” Jiang demanded, his sad demeanor disappearing quickly. Swan shrugged and Skov smiled, putting the money into the back pocket of his jeans. “Why waste a perfectly good opportunity to make a bet?” Skov asked, winking and then wiggled the phone in his hand. “Don’t worry, I knew I’d win. You left your phone on the table a few weeks ago and he texted you while you were in the bathroom.”

Skov leaned back on the couch and continued scrolling through his instagram feed. Swan just shrugged and reached for the controller that Kavinsky had left behind. Jiang picked up his controller too and rolled his eyes as him and Swan continued the game him, Kavinsky and Prokopenko had paused earlier.

“So uh, Declan Lynch, huh?” Swan asked after a little bit, pressing down on the buttons to beat Jiang.

Jiang didn’t even turn away from the TV to look at him. “What about him?”

Swan hummed as a ‘I don’t know’, “How did you and him like… happen? What is it about him that made you like him?”

Before Jiang could answer, Skov spoke up. “Lynch is ripped. He’s got like a six pack.”

Both Jiang and Swan turned to look at Skov, who was still glued to his smartphone. It took him some time to notice he was being watched, but when he did, he arched a brow. “What? You’ve seen him shirtless, you know I’m right.”

“Yeah,” Jiang nodded slowly. “I’ve seen him shirtless. That doesn’t explain how you have seen him without a shirt on.”

Skov snorted, pointing at Jiang’s phone that was on the table, laying screen up. “You leave your phone laying around a lot and Lynch likes sending you shirtless pictures after he works out. Just be glad Kavinsky hasn’t seen them.”

Swan roared a laugh and Skov smirked proudly. Jiang’s cheeks turned pink and he let out a long groan. “Why the fuck am I friends with you?”

Chapter Text

Declan met Ronan and Matthew in the local bowling alley at five pm. It had been Ronan's turn to pick Matthew up from his after school activities so all the brothers arrived on time. Matthew and Declan greeted each other with a warm hug; Ronan and Declan only exchanged a nod. It was at least an improvement from when they could not say even a sentence to each other that didn’t have curse words in it.

“How has your week been?” Declan asked Matthew as he paid for a bowling lane. All three of the brothers went to change shoes and Matthew smiled, shrugging excitedly. “It has been nice, I think. School’s not too hard and I have plans to meet up with friends tomorrow. What about your week?”

Declan thought of his week. Him and Jiang had had a study session on Monday and Jiang had drawn onto his back on Wednesday. It had been a pretty good week, and considering that he was thinking of attending the party Jiang’s friends were having over the weekend, it could get even better. He didn’t know how to put his feelings into words without telling his brothers that he was sort of dating someone he was not supposed to - a delinquent with too many tattoos who loved self destructive ways of relaxation.

“I’ve been alright,” he said as he finished tying his shoes. “I’m caught up with studies, but I don’t think it’s stupid to get ahead in a few subjects.”

Matthew hummed, as if he was agreeing with Declan, but Ronan snorted. He had already changed into his bowling shoes and was waiting for Declan and Matthew to get ready as well. “You’re lying,” he said, pointing at Declan. “You haven’t been focusing on your studies. Come on, I saw the picture you put on Instagram. There’s no way you can study and let someone draw onto you at the same time.”

Declan rolled his eyes, walking to their lane and put in Matthew’s, Ronan’s and then his own name. “Just because you can only do one thing at once doesn’t mean that I can’t handle things. Give me some credit, Ronan.”

“Piss off,” Ronan’s answer was as sharp as his stare and Declan sighed, trying to smile when Matthew scored a perfect strike with his first throw. While Declan’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, Ronan’s smile, aimed at Matthew, was as true as his stare at Declan had been.

Matthew sat down and ran a hand through his curls, then nudged Declan’s foot under the table. “Ronan’s right though. I saw the picture too,” he hummed, but his eyes lit up from excitement. “Who drew it?”

Although Declan was fully ready to explain what the drawing meant and the historical roots the shapes had, he was not yet ready to tell anyone that Jiang had drawn it. The name wouldn’t have rang any bells with Matthew, who, after all, went to another school, but Ronan would know who Jiang was. As much as Declan knew, Ronan still hung around with Jiang’s other friends, especially with Kavinsky, even though Declan had told him it was a good idea.

(He had tried forbidding Ronan to see Kavinsky. Ronan had gone off at him, had said that Declan was not their father, that their father was dead and could not forbid anyone any more. As a result, Declan had simply suggested Ronan steer clear of any ‘distractions’ and focus on schoolwork. Ronan had left a ‘fuck you’ graffiti on the side of Declan’s car.)

Matthew nudged him again, still smiling, and Declan smiled too. “It was a friend,” he said, trying to keep his voice as normal as possible.

“Bullshit,” Ronan was picking up another bowling ball, ready to add more points to his score. For a second Declan was sure that Ronan knew of him and Jiang, that Jiang had told everyone, had bragged about how he had managed to lure Declan in, how they had- “You don’t have any friends.” Ronan’s smile was a snake and his voice a hiss, but Declan just rolled his eyes, shrugging the insult off.

Even if Ronan was being rude, Matthew was being polite and lovely as usually. He patted Declan’s hand. “I’m sure your friend is nice. I liked the drawing. It was really pretty,” Declan thanked him with a little nod and went to roll his turn.

They left the bowling alley an hour later after Matthew had kicked both of his older brothers’ asses during the final game, and drove to the dorms. Declan insisted that he wanted to make dinner for his brothers and Matthew persuaded Ronan to join them. Declan had Matthew set the table while he and Ronan tried to work around each other in the kitchen, even after Declan vowed he was fine working alone. It took only minutes to realize why Ronan had taken up a job in the kitchen when he started to question who had drawn on Declan’s back again.

“So, who was it?” He asked, looking at Declan, heating up the pan. “Who drew on your back?”

Chopping vegetables, Declan hummed out, “I told you, it was a friend,” hoping his annoyed tone would get Ronan to back off, at least until they weren’t around Matthew anymore.

Ronan scoffed, but held his hand over the pan to feel if the oil was hot enough. “Yeah right. It had to be a really fucking close friend to draw on your back.”

Declan thought over what he could say. Ronan didn’t know who he hung out with, at least not their names. Ronan didn’t care enough to be involved in Declan’s life, but he cared enough to know when Declan was lying.

“He is close,” Declan said, walking over to the pan to put the chicken in it, “You just don’t know him. Let’s face it, Ronan, you don’t really care about my friends.”

He stepped back and Ronan took his place watching their food, “I care when you’re trying this hard to hide it.”

“I’m not really hiding anything,” Declan said, placing the vegetables into a bowl and took out the salad dressing so that they could finish making the Caesar’s salad. He ignored the accusing look Ronan gave him and then just sighed, shaking his head. “Listen, it was for an art project. It wasn’t anything… intimate.”

“Who said anything about intimacy?” Ronan asked, flipping the chicken in the pan, then turning to lean against the counter to face his older brother, “I just wanted to know who the fuck drew on your back. Wasn’t like I was asking who you were banging.”

“Whom is Declan banging?” Matthew asked, peeking into the kitchen with a wide smile. He noticed the unfinished salad on the counter and grinned. “Ooh, salad. Yum yum salad time.”

Declan smiled towards the youngest Lynch and told him to take the bowl of salad to the table and he’d be sure that Ronan would come right out with the chicken. Ronan glared at him and Declan glared back. Ronan put the chicken on a plate and followed Declan out of the kitchen, giving Declan a look that warned him that the conversation was far from over.

The three made small talk over their food, Declan eating more food than he wanted to because when the topic of the drawing on his back was brought up, he filled his mouth as an excuse to not answer. With each mouthful Ronan’s stare got harsher, but Matthew didn’t seem to notice and when the dinner was done, he left with the same sunlit smile he always wore. Ronan and Declan both waved him goodbye and when the door closed behind Matthew, Ronan turned to his older brother again.

“Now that Matthew is gone, I think you should tell me the truth.” Ronan said, sitting onto one of the chairs in the kitchen. He chased a leftover piece of chicken with his fork and then bit into it, still glaring at Declan.

“Tell you the truth about what, Ronan?” Declan said as he started cleaning up the dishes, putting them into the sink so that he could wash them later.

“The truth about that stupid picture. You’ve always been a shitty liar so don’t even try,” Ronan said, following Declan around the kitchen.

Declan didn’t stop cleaning the kitchen as he rolled his eyes, “I didn’t lie, it was for an art project.”

“Declan Lynch doesn’t hang out with guys who think that art is an important subject,” Ronan uttered, pausing beside the table to cross his arms and glare at his brother.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Ronan. I’m not half as boring as you think I am. If a person thinks something is important, I’m not going to tell them otherwise.” Declan picked up the bowl with some leftover salad and placed it into the fridge before touching a piece of chicken to see if it had cooled down enough to put it in the fridge as well, but then left it on the table to fully cool down.

“That’s bullshit and we both know it. If you wouldn’t tell them, you’d act passive,” Ronan snapped, growing more frustrated with Declan.

“Language, Ronan.” Declan scolded his younger brother, ignoring his frustration, and moved to the sink, starting to wash the dishes, “I don’t see how not being a complete jerk to someone is seen as acting passive.”

“Fuck you,” Ronan said, speaking quieter now.

The older Lynch brother stopped washing the dishes for a second, holding a plate in his hand as he turned to look at Ronan. “Don’t tell me… You’re actually jealous that someone drew a Celtic cross onto my back? Ronan Lynch, of all people, you’re the last person who has any rights to be jealous of me.”

Ronan scoffed again, and Declan wasn’t sure Ronan was even capable of emotions other than distaste, “Of course I’m not jealous, I’m just pissed you’re lying to me.”

“Like you haven’t lied to me. Tell me, how many times have you gone out to hang with Kavinsky after I’ve told you not to?”

“I’ve never lied. That’s just ignoring the stupid shit you’ve told me not to do.”

Declan sighed, shaking his head, finally deciding to tell Ronan the truth. Or at least half of it. “Fine. It wasn’t for an art project. My friend just wanted to give me something that would make me feel like I’m still carrying something of my Irish heritage with me. Happy?”

“What, the curly hair and freckles weren’t enough?” Ronan asked him, a slight joking tone covering the words.

“That’s rich, coming out of your mouth. You got a fucking tattoo that has all of these Celtic knots in them. You got all the fucking stories dad told you. You got the fucking ability to dream shit up. I didn’t get shit, Ronan, dad left me nothing to link me to our family.” Finishing the dishes, Declan did his best to stay calm and collected. He didn’t enjoy talking about their father, didn’t want to remember how his father never spent enough time with him.

“Don’t pull that shit,” Ronan said rolling his eyes. “You had the chance and you just never took it.”

Ronan’s almost careless tone made Declan more upset with him. He didn’t even notice how his knuckles were turning white as he held onto the counter. “Yeah, when did I have the chance? When you and dad spent hours together and every time I showed up he looked like he had swallowed a really sour lemon? Fuck you, Ronan, fuck you.”

“Why are you just taking it to heart now? What the fuck changed that made you hate him so much?” Ronan questioned, taken aback by the tone of Declan’s voice.

“I don’t hate him.” Declan closed his eyes for a second to collect himself. “I just realised I was worth more than he thought I was.”

“Well, a year ago you wouldn’t have said that,” Ronan muttered, looking at his feet, as if mourning their father.

“Yeah, well a year ago I wouldn’t have said that Declan Lynch sucks dick, but here we are!” Declan half mumbled, more to himself than to Ronan.

“What the fuck are you talking about!?” Ronan asked, half confused by the muffles of Declan’s voice, and half surprised by what he had heard.

“Just forget it.” Declan reached for a glass and poured himself some water, sipping on it after saying, “Forget I said anything,”

Ronan turned to face Declan, staring at him as he asked,“Whose dick have you been sucking?”

“I could ask you the same thing, but I already know the answer.” Declan drank some more water, trying to slide the conversation to different topics.

“That’s fucking gay, Declan,” Ronan muttered, huffing at Declan’s previous statement.

“Look who’s talking. The gay Lynch.”

“So what are you? The closeted Lynch? The lying Lynch?” Ronan snapped, standing taller, taking steps closer to his older brother.

“That’s enough Ronan.” Declan slammed down the glass in his hand. “I’m not sucking anyone’s dick yet. It’s not any of your business anyway. I’m not keeping track on who you’re fucking and you sure as hell shouldn’t do the same for me. Besides, I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Sure as fucking hell you don’t,” Ronan said, thinking about all the girls Declan used to bring around,  “Were you serious about the guy and the art project?”

“Yeah I was,” After feeling like he had talked too much already, Declan gave up and took out his phone, unlocking the screen to show Ronan a close up of the triskelion. He briefly explained what the symbol meant and showed Ronan the rest of the pictures Jiang had taken of his back. “Do you really need to know who drew it?”

“Is it really that hard to tell me?” Ronan asked, taking the phone in his hands, zooming in on some of the details.

“You have no idea how hard it is,” Declan sighed, but nodded then. “You already know him. It’s one of Kavinsky’s friends. I’m, uh, seeing Jiang.”

“Oh, so I get scolded for making out with Kavinsky at one party, but you’re allowed to fuck one of his friends?” Ronan asked, crossing his arms over his chest again, growing angry.

“We haven’t been fucking. Besides, I’m a responsible adult and you’re not.”

“Okay, whatever, Declan,” Ronan sighed, shaking his head and tucking his hands back into his pockets, “You go live your life and maybe you’ll stop trying to control mine.”

Declan sent Ronan to the door and put a friendly hand on his shoulder, as if he was trying to apologise for his behaviour.

“Don’t tell Matthew. I’ll tell him when the time is right. Just… Try not to get into trouble. Kavinsky’s not a good kid and I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“I may be an asshole, but I wouldn’t out you,” Ronan muttered, his boots loud on the way to the door, the slamming of the frame even louder.

Sighing, Declan pulled out his phone and texted Jiang. ‘I told Ronan of us. Please try to be civil when he asks you about it.’

He got a text from Jiang a few minutes later. ‘i might if u come to the party @ 10 pm tonite’

‘I will be there at around 10 or 11 pm. I’ll see you then?’

‘kewl c u den’

Chapter Text

When Declan showed up to the party, it was already in full swing. He had dressed up - he wanted to impress Jiang after all - and felt good in his tight jeans, and the shirt he wore emphasized his biceps. He had done his hair and had worn his most expensive cologne, all in hopes that Jiang would find him more attractive.

A guy with blue hair opened the door for him and grinned, eyeing him over. “Well hello, Lynch,” he said and Declan nodded, trying to enter the house, but the guy stood in his way.  

“Is there a problem?” Declan asked, not sure if he was supposed to bring his own drink to the party. The guy just kept smiling and then reached out to touch Declan’s stomach through his shirt, snorting to himself. “Nope, no problems at all, shit, Lynch, you’ve got abs! No wonder Jiang’s into you!”

Before Declan could even say anything or ask the guy to never touch him again, the guy turned around and yelled over the small crowd, “Jiang! Come here!”

Looking up, Declan saw the flushed boy walking towards them. He had a cup in one hand and was laughing loudly at something some had said from behind him.

When he was a few feet in front of Declan, Jiang smirked.

“Hey, Lynch.”

Before Declan could respond, Jiang had closed the distance with a kiss Declan couldn’t help but to respond to. Jiang never put down his cup so Declan could feel the cold sweat of the beverage running down the back of his neck where Jiang’s hands were resting. There were cheers around them and the kiss was broken when Jiang started to laugh.

Declan looked around the room, breathless and pink, embarrassed by the PDA he had just shown, mostly because he had always been so against it. His mouth tasted like obnoxiously sweet strawberries and he thought that maybe this night wouldn’t turn out so bad.

“Let me show you around,” Jiang said, then took Declan’s hand and began leading him around the house, taking him to the living room that was full of people drinking, smoking or doing drugs.

They passed by a couch and Declan made little notice of the guys sitting there. He did a double take, when Jiang pointed out that one of the guys was his younger brother. Ronan was sitting in the middle of the couch, a beer in one hand, the fingers of his other hand holding a cigarette so that Kavinsky could pull drags from it. A guy wearing a snapback and a crop top with the tightest jeans Declan had ever seen on a guy, was right in front of Ronan, swinging his hips from side to side, moving his body to the beat and almost grinding against Ronan's lap. Declan wanted to go over and scold Ronan for drinking and for getting a lapdance, but Jiang distracted him by pulling him close and wrapping his arms around Declan.

“Dance with me?” Jiang asked in a whisper, kissing Declan’s cheek.

All Declan could manage was nod, and it was all it took for Jiang to pull him onto the dance floor. The beat was smooth and Jiang easily pulled Declan into the beat with him. He placed Declan’s hands onto his hips and smiled as they danced together. At first Declan was kind of hesitant to dance in front of tens of people he didn’t know, but Jiang kept holding him and his carefree expression was enough to encourage Declan to care less about what people thought of them.

The song ended and Jiang squeezed Declan’s waist. “I’m gonna get another drink. You want one?” Declan nodded and then looked around, trying to follow Jiang’s movements, but he bumped into a few people and lost track of Jiang. When he looked up his date was gone. He wandered through the house, his heart racing as he tried to get used to the air thick with smoke.

Stepping into the kitchen, he saw his brother get pushed against the cabinets, his hands running through Kavinsky's hair, while Kavinsky's own wandered further down Ronan’s body. Beside them stood a guy whom Declan had seen in school, but had never officially met. He had been watching Kavinsky and Ronan kiss, but when Declan walked into the kitchen, he turned to look at Declan. Declan looked at him too and recognized him as the guy who had given Ronan a lap dance earlier. The boy winked to Declan who in return nodded towards him, half eyeing the freckled skin the boy’s crop top showed off, nearly gulping at the intricate patterns the freckles had weaved.

"You can't have all the boys, Proko," said a familiar voice from beside him. Declan didn't have the time to look before an arm was wrapped around his waist. Jiang had a beer in his hand and he offered Declan a sip, which Declan took. He had expected the beer to taste gross, but it was mild and had some notes of berries in it, and when he arched a brow in question, Jiang chuckled. “It’s artisan beer, babe. Only the best for my boy.”

He kissed Declan’s cheek and Declan blushed, but Jiang paid it no mind, turning to his friend again. “You can’t have Declan, Prokopenko. You’re more than welcome to have some of his classmates though.”

Prokopenko shrugged in return and pulled himself up to sit on a counter. "I could try, you know. I could make some milkshakes and they’d all come running." He joked, then wolf whistled as Ronan picked Kavinsky up by the backs of his knees and lifted him onto the counter. Declan, however, was not pleased by this and coughed until he got his brother’s attention. Ronan looked over his shoulder, ready to swear at anyone who distracted him from kissing Kavinsky, but when he saw his older brother, Ronan’s harsh expression softened. Everyone was quiet for a while and then Ronan spoke. “I am drunk.”

Declan frowned slightly. “That doesn’t excuse the stupid shit you do.”

Ronan made a ‘psh’ sound with his mouth, gesturing to Declan and Jiang, who still had his arm around Declan, “I’m not the one with an arm around my waist,”

Kavinsky laughed, but his laugh turned into a half growl when Ronan didn’t pay attention to him and he tugged on Ronan’s shirt, pulling him back into another kiss.

Declan almost scoffed before Jiang was humming in his ear. “Let’s go somewhere quieter, yeah?”

He led Declan away from Ronan and Kavinsky, but before they left the room, Declan saw Prokopenko sliding off the counter and joining the two boys, sliding one of his hands inside of Ronan’s backpocket, wrapping his other hand around the nape of Ronan’s neck. From the way Ronan groaned, Declan assumed that this wasn’t the first time the three of them had made out at parties, and he walked faster, not really wanting to see what happened next.

They hadn’t moved far when they were faced with two other members of the pack. Declan had seen one of them, the guy with the blue hair, before, so he was a bit wary of him. The other guy didn’t seem as intimidating and nodded to Declan, offering his hand for a handshake. Declan accepted they gesture as the boy spoke.

“Swan,” the guy introduced himself and Declan waited for a first name or a last name, any other name, but he got nothing.

“Declan,” he introduced himself and turned to look at the guy with the blue hair. The guy had been smiling, but was now grinning widely and when Swan nudged him, he spoke up.

“Are you two going to escape upstairs?” He tilted his head to the side and pointed at Jiang and Declan, drawing an imaginary heart between them. “Are you going to lick his abs, Jiang?”

If Declan had been drinking something, he would have choked. Instead he stared at the boy in front of him, while Jiang grinned beside him.

“I don’t know if that was a part of the plan, Skov, but I don’t mind schedule changes.”

Now Declan actually choked as the guys around him shook with laughter. A steady hand on his side helped him to calm down, and the lips pressed against his neck helped even more. He kept his eyes on the ground so he couldn’t tell who groaned at them, but when he looked back up all three were smiling again.

“Always been a fan of showing off, right Jiang?”

“Can’t help it if I’m proud of having a good looking boy in my arms,” Jiang said, as Declan felt his other arm slide around his front. Now he was sandwiched in Jiang’s arms. He could hear more laughs around him, but his eyes were stuck on Jiang who was wide eyed, smiling at him.

“Why don’t you look at me like that, asshole?” Skov whined suddenly.

Declan was snapped out of his trance as he looked up to the boys in front of him. Swan was glaring and Declan couldn’t hide the grin on his face. Jiang moved his arms from around him, reconnecting a hand interlocked in Declan’s. Jiang excused them both and pulled Declan away from the two boys who were glaring at each other like they would hurt each other, or maybe make out. He quickly learned that both looks meant almost the same around these boys - Swan punched his friend and before either of them could wipe away the blood that dripped from Skov’s mouth, they were kissing and trying to find somewhere to fall onto.

Jiang led Declan up the stairs and into a room that was clearly his. Declan noticed the paintings on the wall and the pile of clothes and brushes on the floor, but he smiled, feeling a bit more relaxed than he had felt the whole party. When Jiang pulled him onto a bed, Declan followed and straddled Jiang, caressing his cheek.

“How many beers did you have?” he asked, half concerned for Jiang and half excited. Jiang shrugged, but then got onto his elbows and kissed Declan gently.

“It’s alright,” Jiang assured, pressing another kiss onto Declan’s lips. “I’m not drunk. We can make out.”

Declan answered by tenderly touching the side of Jiang’s face and kissing him. He knew that Jiang didn’t want to rush things and rushing wasn’t what he wanted either, so for the first minute or two they just kissed languidly, gliding their lips against each other’s mouths. Jiang’s hands wound up in Declan’s hair, messing it up and tugging on it after every few kisses. Declan’s hand still rested on Jiang’s face, but he moved it soon, holding himself up so that he wouldn’t fall onto Jiang.

Jiang broke the kiss and waited for Declan to lay down next to him before taking his hand. They turned onto their sides and just looked at each other, smiling, content with what they had. The farthest they had gone was making out shirtless, and for Jiang, that was enough. For Declan, too, it was enough. Even if he wanted to see Jiang naked, he was willing to wait until their relationship got more serious.

“Do you want to do… what your friend suggested?” Declan asked quietly and Jiang laughed slightly as he shook his head. “Not really,”

Declan almost sighed out of relief. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t want Jiang’s tongue on his abs, he would just hope for a moment like that when there wasn’t a chance of a random person walking in on them.

They laid in silence longer, Declan observing the curve of Jiang’s jaw and the specks of colour in his eyes while Jiang played with Declan’s fingers, locking and unlocking them over and over. Neither was sure how long it was that their breathing and the sound of distant, but heavy dubstep were the only noise in the room, but it was interrupted by the chime of Jiang’s phone.

Declan groaned as his subject turned over to pull his phone off the bedside table.

“It’s fucking K,” Jiang said, showing Declan the home screen being filled with snapchats from ‘jkavinsky’.

He unlocked his phone and squinted at the brightness. Opening the app, he had many other unopened snapchats, but Kavinsky’s were his only priority.

Opening the first one there was a quiet ‘what the fuck’ before Jiang turned to show Declan. The first was a picture of Kavinsky with his tongue out, half pulling off his shirt. The next was a blurry selfie of a shirtless Kavinsky, followed by another half blurry selfie and Prokopenko straddling Ronan’s lap. Declan turned away, not wanting to see much more of his brother than he needed to and after checking the few last pictures, Jiang put his phone on silent, tossing it aside.

“Looks like they’re having fun, no?”

“Please don’t talk about my brother’s sex life with me,” Declan groaned, pressing a hand against his face.

Jiang laughed at him and pressed a kiss to his forehead, “I promise I won’t, unless I hear it’s super interesting.”

Declan groaned again, and Jiang pulled him into his chest, “I was kidding, Dec. I’ll only bring it up on holidays.”

Declan mumbled a ‘whatever’ into the warmth of Jiang’s chest and quickly succumbed to the exhaustion of the previous day, his breaths quickly falling in line with those of Jiang’s.

In the morning Declan woke to Jiang peppering kisses all over his face. He groaned, pulling his face away and Jiang laughed, ruffling Declan’s hair.

“Morning, sunshine,” he said, gently kissing Declan’s nose again. “It’s like eleven in the morning so if you want to sleep more, feel free, but if you want to go back to the dorms…” Jiang didn’t finish his sentence and just played with Declan’s hair, messing it up and then smoothing it back down. Declan let his boyfriend play with his hair for a while longer and then sat up, stretching and yawning. He left the bed, picking up his jeans and his shirt from the floor, dressing as fast as possible.

Jiang sat up too, ultimately getting out of bed, but he didn’t waste time trying to find his shirt. He pulled on a pair of sweats and scratched an itch, nails tickling the huge dragon on his ribs. Together they quietly walked to the kitchen and found a half naked Prokopenko making food in the kitchen. Declan was still sleepy enough that he was taken aback by the sudden increase of tanned and freckled skin in his visual field.

“Settle down, lovebirds, there will be food soon,” Prokopenko said with a cheerful voice, waving his spatula around, missing the expression on Declan’s face as he stared at the bruise on Prokopenko’s buttcheek. Declan turned to Jiang and Jiang just shrugged, sitting down at the table. Not knowing what else to do, Declan sat down too and looked around in the kitchen. It was clean, there weren’t any empty bottles anywhere and the surfaces were sparkling clean. He had no idea how they had managed to clean up the place so quickly, but he wasn’t going to complain.

A plate was put under his nose and he thanked Prokopenko for the food, quite impressed by his cooking skills as a big pile of pancakes, a pot of steaming porridge and a bowl of salad were all placed onto the table. Jiang grabbed for the porridge and Declan put some pancakes onto his plate, but Prokopenko kept cooking, throwing some bacon onto the pan and grinning to himself as the sizzling sound drowned out all the other sounds in the kitchen.

Declan and Jiang ate in silence, Declan sometimes bumping his feet against Jiang’s feet, sometimes leaning on him slightly. Declan supposed that Kavinsky was sleeping off his hangover and that the two boys he had met last night were still sleeping as well. He had not expected Ronan to stay over, but he knew Ronan had stayed over when someone stumbled down the stairs, and loud Irish curses followed.

“Ronan, do you have to ruin a nice morning with your curses?” Declan said, frowning at his younger brother and sighing when Ronan just plopped down on one of the seats, stacking pancakes onto his plate.

Prokopenko walked over and kissed Ronan’s cheek, offering him some bacon, which Ronan accepted. When Prokopenko returned to the stove, Ronan watched him go and his eyes were almost glued to the big lovebite on Prokopenko’s ass.

“I didn’t do it!” he said quickly, more to Declan to himself.

Prokopenko snorted, rolling his eyes. “Yes you did. Just because you were drunk doesn’t mean you didn’t do it.”

Ronan narrowed his eyes, but didn’t object to that, instead started eating his bacon. He was obviously ignoring Declan and Jiang though and when Declan asked if he slept well, Ronan only glared at him, stuffing more food into his mouth. Declan asked again and before Ronan could spit an answer at him, Prokopenko spoke.

“You and K both slept like babies. I woke up to you two cuddling,” He sat down, a plate of waffles in front of him and then put some Nutella onto the waffles. “Quite rude to leave me out of the cuddle pile, but I’ll accept it.”

Declan could swear he saw Ronan blush, but of course he hid it behind a sneer.

“Whatever, Prokopenko, keep telling yourself that,”

The side of Prokopenko’s mouth twitched, yet he continued eating his food. There wasn’t anything else to talk about and so they all ate their breakfast in silence, Jiang sometimes nudging Declan, stealing bites from his food or touching his foot under the table. About twenty minutes later Declan looked at the clock and got up.

“I think I should go.” he said, leaning down to gently squeeze Jiang’s hand. Jiang pouted slightly, but then got up as well.

“Let me walk you out,” he said, taking Declan’s hand and they walked to the front door together. Declan didn’t leave right away though, he wanted to have some alone time with Jiang, and apparently Jiang wanted some alone time too.

“Do you have to leave?” Jiang asked, pulling Declan into a hug and Declan hugged him back, sighing. He had homework to deal with and if he wanted to go to church the next day and help Jiang with his homework later, he had to get started already.

“Sorry,” Declan mumbled, kissing Jiang’s cheek. “I have a lot to do. I’ll be graduating this year, you know that, right?”

Jiang nodded and then kissed Declan quickly. “Fine. Are we still on for tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Declan let go of Jiang and turned to leave. “I’ll see you then.”

“I’ll see you,” Jiang watched Declan leave and before Declan could walk out of the door, slapped his ass. “Work that ass, Lynch.”

Declan left in a hurry, cheeks aflame. He was definitely waiting forward to their next study session or the next party Jiang’s friends threw.