#Teaberry is a very underrated and delightful ice cream flavor

[zephfair]

Drive me crazy

Sometimes you just want to stick your favorite blorbos into a fluffy situation and make them have fun. This is 4,800 words of fluff, comedy and cars. And ice cream. Adam/Ronan. Rated T for language? And driving crimes.

Adam stared into the distance, the notes from his morning’s online philosophy class running through his mind, when Mike bumped into him, hard.

“That is so creepy, bro.”

Adam came back to himself long enough to ask, “What?”

“You. When you do that thing.” Mike stood up straight and made his face empty, trying to copy Adam’s thousand-yard stare over the car lot. But he only succeeded in making Adam hope he didn’t actually look that much like last week’s dead fish in a supermarket display.

“Thanks,” Adam said as dryly as possible.

“I mean, you can stand here all day and just stare. Like, what are you looking at? What do you see?”

“The vast expanse of time and space. The future, the past, and all the tortuous present,” Adam said in a hollow voice that made Mike give a little shiver. Then Adam smirked evilly, “Of course, if you’d just let us get on our cell phones while we’re waiting for customers, you wouldn’t have to watch me staring into the abyss.”

“Ugh, sorry, man, it’s corporate policy. I know we’re not exactly busy all the time, but we can’t let our sales associates be on their phones if a customer does roll in. Corporate says it makes us look unapproachable.”

“We’re car salesmen. We have the well-deserved reputation of being anything but unapproachable. We’re literally graded on how fast we approach the poor customer.”

“I know, I know. Just, continue staring,” Mike said with a grand gesture toward the lot and the busy road beyond. “Or, come in and shoot the shit with us.”

Adam shook his head. “I’m not trying to be anti-social—”

“You are absolutely anti-social. We all know it. Enjoy your little patch of shade all alone.” Mike clapped his shoulder and turned to head back into the dealership’s air conditioned showrooms.

“All men are all alone,” Adam intoned and Mike shot him a look that made Adam smirk a little again.

The conversation did make him change position a bit, leaning more of his weight on his right side for a while. This wasn’t his idea of a great job, by any means, but it was a steady paycheck over the summer with a chance of even more decent commission, and he could still take a couple online summer gen-ed credits. Plus, it was kind of nice to be on the outside of the cars for once without getting grease and oil stains under his fingernails.

The biggest problem was just the boredom of standing around and waiting for a customer to decide that today, of all days, was the day to stop and shop—and hopefully purchase—a brand new car.

Adam had just started reviewing what he could remember about the difference between Socratic and Platonic knowledge for the next morning when the screech of brakes made him twitch.

He didn’t bother turning his head; the four-lane street that ran along one side of the dealership had a grass median separating north and southbound traffic, but there was an opening right there where fool-hardy drivers who missed the turn at the light at the end of the block could make an illegal and highly dangerous U-turn. It happened once every couple days, and while he’d yet to see a crash, there was usually a lot of horns honking and cursing from open car windows.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a sleek shape take an illegal U-turn at the light and come back down then turn immediately into the opening and speed just in front of oncoming traffic. But instead of racing back south, it careened into the dealership and screeched to a stop with its front bumper about a foot away from Adam’s hip.

He looked down at the shiny bumper then up at the driver’s side of the windshield, but thanks to the sun’s glare he couldn’t see the driver. He did add his own glare to the sun’s.  

It didn’t matter that it was a really nice car, an older BMW that looked like it’d been lovingly maintained, despite the obvious wear and tear on its poor brakes. Despite its age, it was a much better car than anything on the lot Adam was trying to sell. It was a classic, well-built luxury car and would easily get more than a hundred thousand miles on it, something that the midsize sedans and sport vehicles would struggle to survive.

The door popped open and a man popped up slinging one arm over the door.

Adam kept his expression at thoroughly unimpressed even while his eyes cataloged shaved head, sharp features, nice arm and tattoo visible at the top of his shoulders exposed by a plain black tank top. The guy’s mirrored aviator shades reflected back how completely indifferent Adam was to this obvious menace even though he was definitely attractive in an arrogant douchebag way. Definitely not Adam’s type. At all.

Adam finally said, “What can I help you with today? Sir.”

“Saw something I liked, had to stop.” The guy took off his sunglasses and hung them from the front of his tank.

“Ah. So what are you interested in?”

The ice-blue eyes raked up and down Adam’s body, and the guy actually licked his lips but probably didn’t even know he was doing it, Adam thought. When BMW-guy didn’t answer Adam prodded, “Are you in the market for a compact car? Minivan? SUV? Pickup?”

The look the guy gave Adam was pure affront as though Adam had just insulted his mother. “Do I look like a minivan driver to you?”

“Perhaps you need one for all your many, many children?” Adam suggested with a little smile.

The guy swore under his breath and slammed his door shut. Adam got a good look at his tapered waist, long legs that went on forever in artistically ripped jeans, and boots that added to his impressive height. When he crossed his arms over his chest, Adam made sure to maintain eye contact and only check out his biceps and pecs from his peripheral vision.

“Did you have something special in mind or are you just looking today?” Adam tried to rein himself in, get back on his script.

“I am looking for something special,” the guy allowed and stepped closer to Adam, who suddenly remembered one of the finer points of his customer service training.

He stuck out his hand and said, “I’m Adam Parrish, and I’d be happy to help you out today with whatever you need.”

The guy eyeballed him, raised an eyebrow, then looked down at Adam’s hand like he had no idea what to do with it. He finally took it in a tight grip and gave it a perfunctory shake. “Lynch. You always this happy to help out a customer with whatever he needs?”

“Only when the customer needs special help and attention. You look like you do,” Adam said sweetly. “So what would you like to look at today?”

“One of those, over there,” Lynch gestured to the farthest side of the lot, a block away, where the compact cars were. Adam rolled his eyes when Lynch couldn’t see.

“Certainly, sir. I’d be happy to show you all the amenities that come with our smallest but most economical models. Although, you may have some trouble fitting yourself comfortably into one.”

Lynch scoffed and put his sunglasses back on. “Show me anyway.”

Adam led him across the lot, Lynch walking closer than strictly comfortable with a stranger, his bare arm brushing against Adam’s from time to time. Adam had a moment of embarrassment as he pictured himself in the uniform of khaki slacks and baby blue polo shirt which was only a step up from Gansey’s norm because it was a pastel and instead of a logo there was the company name on the breast.

As they ambled across the lot under the boiling sun, Adam pointed out various models, describing what made them desirable or special. He stopped Lynch a couple times with a hand on his bicep to show him a particular vehicle’s features.

Lynch only grunted once or twice, but he didn’t pull away. So Adam double-downed. He stopped at a pickup truck and gestured toward the special scratch-resistant bedliner and when Lynch spared it a brief glance, Adam spread his hand on the middle of Lynch’s back and leaned close to his ear, “Take a good look at that bed. It’s really something special.”

Lynch’s back stiffened for a second then he straightened and smirked at Adam. “It’s not how special the bed is, but what you put in it,” he said.

Adam thought maybe this guy was finally picking up what he was putting down.

But Lynch didn’t show any more interest until they’d walked the length of the lot and Adam stopped him by a tiny hatchback. “This is one of our bestsellers for fuel economy. It has a 1.4 liter, four-cylinder engine with a manual or variable transmission. That’s nothing like what your Beemer is packing under the hood. Are you interested in trading it in towards a new vehicle?”

“Fuck no,” Lynch snarled, crossing his arms over his chest again and probably glaring at Adam and the car in equal measure.

“Okay,” Adam said in a reasonable tone. “Do you know what kind of engine you’d prefer?” And he went on to list what was offered in that model.

Lynch seemed entirely disinterested in even looking under a hood. Adam had to stop himself from sighing. He’d seen this more than once, and always with men for some reason. He’d read horror stories by women who’d had terrible treatment at car dealerships when they’d shopped, being shown the interior options like mirrors and cupholders instead of talking about the engine capacity and mileage.

Adam was always twice as nice to women customers, but he was pleasantly surprised at first because they were far and away more prepared for car shopping than the men. Maybe they felt like they had something to prove, but he had enjoyed one afternoon of discussing exhaust output, transmissions, and the company’s history of braking problems with one woman while her husband wandered the lot and picked out one to test drive because it had gray leather seats.

That had led to a sale. Adam was pretty sure this conversation wouldn’t.

“May I ask what, exactly, you do? What will you be using the car for?” Adam asked.

“I have a farm,” was all Lynch said.

“Are you looking for something that you can transport livestock or feed in?”

“No,” was the short answer.

Adam waited for the long answer but it never came.

“Well, then let me show you this model,” Adam said, slapping the roof of a nearby small SUV. “You can fit so many chickens inside this one.”

That made Lynch actually take off his sunglasses to glare at Adam.

“The defibrillator is also super-powered so you’re looking at a load more torque and drive-train power through the chassis.”

Lynch squinted at him. “It sounds like you know what you’re talking about,” he said suspiciously, clearly confused a little by Adam’s gibberish but not knowing enough to dispute him.

Adam smirked. This guy obviously didn’t know anything about cars.

Lynch was casting an angry glance around the whole lot so it surprised Adam when he said, “I want to drive one.”

“Sure, you can take a test drive,” Adam recovered quickly. “Which one would you like to try?”

“You’d have to go with me, right?”

“Yes, that’s our corporate policy.”

Lynch nodded and met Adam’s eyes. “Then let’s go for a ride.”

“Which one are you interested in taking out?”

This time, there was no mistaking the way Lynch’s eyes went up and down Adam’s body and the way he bit his own bottom lip when he focused on Adam’s mouth. Adam gulped. “If you could pick one to drive,” Lynch asked slowly, “which one would it be?”

Adam had to clear his throat before he could say, “Follow me.”

He led Lynch much more quickly back to the front of the dealership but had to stop when they spotted Mike and two of the other salesmen admiring Lynch’s BMW.

“What a beauty! They don’t make them like this anymore,” Mike said excitedly. “Are you going to trade it in? I’d be happy to make you an offer.”

“Fuck no,” Lynch repeated, and Adam had to hold in a snicker at the offense Lynch put into those two little words as if Mike had asked to purchase one of his kidneys.

“Well, if you’re ever interested in selling it, please, let me know. I could give you top dollar in a trade or even just buy it outright.” Mike patted the hood gently and Lynch bared his teeth like he was a second away from biting Mike’s hand off.

“Actually, Mike, Lynch here is looking to take a test drive of a sportier model.”

“Oh, great, which one takes your fancy?”

Lynch looked to Adam in bewilderment, but Adam just smirked. “He wants to take the Princess out.”

“Oh wow,” Mike said reverently.

They’d nicknamed the car the Princess because it was the top-of-the-line sports model the company made. And it had every deluxe package offered, with all the crazy little extras that the company overcharged for, so it was far and away the most expensive car on the lot. They actually had three of the sports model on the lot, but only the Princess was so overloaded with extras. Plus, it was a convertible.

“Isn’t that right, Lynch?” Adam nudged his elbow into Lynch’s ribs.

Lynch jolted. “Yeah, that one.”

“Wow,” Mike said again, “okay, uh, sure. We don’t usually allow test drives of that model right away because of liability and, uh, other issues.”

“He means, they don’t let anyone waltz in and drive it unless they prove they can actually afford to buy it,” Adam said bluntly.

Lynch raised an eyebrow as though amused with the dare. “You want to talk to my bank? If I wanted to, I could pay cash for it today.”

“Oh, I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” Mike said, all but wringing his hands. “I’ll just need your, uh, driver’s license and insurance card. And if you don’t mind terribly, I really should run a credit check on you. It’s just corporate policy, you know?”

Lynch didn’t answer, just got into the BMW and rummaged around the glove compartment until he came up with the paperwork that satisfied Mike.

“Thank you, Mr. Lynch. Now, if you want to wait at the Princess, Adam can tell you all about her while I go make copies of these.”

Adam watched Mike all but bow at Lynch before scurrying off to the office. Lynch looked at Adam blankly, but followed when Adam tilted his head in the general direction.

The convertible was bright cherry red, of course, and the top was down to show off its perks. Mike carefully pulled it out from the secure garage every morning when the weather was fine, and made sure to take it back in if there was even a hint of rain in the forecast.

Adam gestured with a flourish. “Meet the Princess.”

Lynch trailed his fingers over the convertible as he slowly circled it. “Why the hell’s it called the Princess?”

“Because it’s pretty, all dolled-up, and has some very sexy curves,” Adam replied promptly.

Lynch snorted and pulled his hand back. “I’m not into dolled-up and sexy curves,” he said bluntly. Then he gazed at Adam from underneath his thick black lashes and said quietly, “I’m not against pretty though.”

Adam’s stomach, and something lower, clenched. “Well, you can still have fun with her, on a strictly friendly level.”

“It looks like a toy.”

“It’s speedy and handles well. That should feel like fun, even if it looks like a toy.”

“Let’s take it out,” Lynch said and put on his sunglasses with a savage grin as Mike hurried over to them. He all but thrust the key into Lynch’s hand and gave Adam a discreet thumbs-up and a grin as he slapped a plate on the Princess’ rump.

While Lynch climbed behind the wheel, Mike gave him a run-down of the car’s controls which Adam should’ve probably already covered. Instead, he just got in the passenger’s side and made sure his seat belt was secure.

“Well, you’re all ready, Mr. Lynch. Listen to that engine purr,” Mike enthused when he finally let Lynch start the car. “Take her for a spin and see what you think. I’m sure you’ll agree that she’s a beauty.”

“I’m only into handsome,” Lynch said and took off with a little squeal of tires.

Adam looked back at Mike as Lynch pulled right onto the street and waved, but Mike was soon just a dot behind them. Lynch had to stop at the next red light, so Adam took the opportunity to say, “Normally I take people down here so they can get a feel for city traffic. Then we can jump on the interstate so you can let her loose a little before we get off the next exit and circle back.”

“Sure,” was all Lynch said.

Adam settled back and grinned, letting the hot sun melt him into the leather seat. Lynch handled the car with all the precision Adam would’ve guessed from his driving the BMW, weaving them through the busy four lanes of the city’s shopping district, then taking the interstate on-ramp at speed.

As the car accelerated with grace and ease, the wind hitting Adam felt good enough to make him forget the Virginian humidity. He relaxed as Lynch blew past other vehicles, their speed edging ever upward as he ruled the left lane. Adam’s yell about the upcoming exit was ignored, and he shut his mouth before he could swallow a bug.

He just let Lynch drive, going past one then two more exits until they were well into rural territory. Lynch had settled back into his seat, left hand on the wheel, right hand resting on the gear shift. Adam flicked his eyes between watching his profile and the blur of greenery as they sped past.

“Handles great, doesn’t it?” he finally yelled.

Lynch shrugged.

“It’s nice to feel the wind in your hair,” Adam shouted.

That made Lynch look over at him. Adam was sure he and his bald head weren’t amused.

Lynch turned his attention back to the road to zip around a tractor-trailer, and Adam idly wondered how many people had ever gotten arrested or at least a speeding ticket while on a test drive.

He studied Lynch, his devastatingly handsome face and body along with his handling of the car were a really terrible combination for Adam’s appreciation of hot guys, hot cars, and a mile-wide competency kink.

Lynch looked over with a smirk as though he could hear Adam’s thoughts. Adam just shut his eyes and smiled into the sun and wind. Convertibles were really shit for comfort and mileage, but, by God, it was fun.

Then Lynch took the next exit without hitting the brakes, leaving Adam grabbing for an oh-shit handle that wasn’t there and instead clinging to the door. But Lynch handled the change in deceleration beautifully, didn’t have to yield to any oncoming traffic, and continued to barrel south now on a two-lane road.

Adam looked around in curiosity, never having had a reason to stop at the exit where there was a gas station and a few scattered houses. Lynch continued a mile or so until he pulled into a gravel parking lot and finally hit the brakes. Only it spun the car right into a tight circle until they skidded to a stop directly in front of the tiny local ice cream stand.

“Jesus shit, Ronan! Dammit, what were you thinking?!”

Ronan’s shoulders were up around his ears, but he tried to shrug nonchalantly. “The fucking brakes are weird.”

Adam swore again. “That’s because your dad didn’t dream up ABS for the BMW. I told you to watch how touchy they were.”

Ronan just hmmed, and Adam shook his head, looking around them to see two minivans parked on the other side of the small building, a gaggle of moms and small kids at picnic tables staring at them.

He looked back at Ronan in growing horror of what could have happened only to see Ronan take off his sunglasses and peer up at the ice cream stand’s menu board like he was calm.

“Their special flavor of the week is teaberry. You want a cone or a tub?”

“Did you seriously bring me out here for ice cream, Ronan?”

Ronan studiously avoided Adam’s flat look. “You want a banana split? Black cow?”

“No, I don’t.” But then Adam sighed. “I’m just really thankful you didn’t hit anybody, pulling that stunt.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Ronan admitted, finally glancing over at Adam. “I didn’t think the brakes would pulse like that. I thought I’d skid right in like the BMW does.”

“And I always bitch at you when you do that in the BMW too,” Adam reminded him. “You’re going to blow out a sidewall any day.”

“I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known there were kids here,” Ronan nodded his head toward the group.

“Well, we’re all okay. And the car’s okay. But seriously, we set up this whole test drive scenario and all you can think of to do is stop and get ice cream? I thought we were going to find a quiet place to make out or something.”

Ronan put his hand on his chest and gasped. “Really? You think I’d just pick up some random sexy car salesman then make out with him after an hour? What am I, a manwhore?”

“I’m not saying you take after Declan but…” Adam teased.

Ronan’s look was not impressed. “This was fun and all but if you’re expecting me to put out on the first day we meet, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Adam unhooked his seat belt and leaned over to put his face close to Ronan’s and his hand on Ronan’s on the wheel. “Yeah, but you got to take a fast car for a ride. You could at least give the salesman a little ride too.”

“I don’t wanna take a fast guy for a ride. I like it long and slow and … uh, road trips…” Ronan trailed off when Adam nosed against his cheek and squeezed his hand.

“Think you lost control of your metaphor there. But I’m glad you’re not putting out for any guy you just met. It’s sweet.”

“I am not sweet.”

Adam touched his cheek and Ronan leaned into it, of course, and Adam kissed him gently. Then Ronan turned his body to get his hands around Adam’s face and he turned the kiss much deeper, licking into Adam’s mouth, tempting his tongue to come play.

So Adam had to move closer, one hand sliding up Ronan’s thigh, as the exhilaration and excitement of the day caught up to him, and they shared kisses sweeter than any ice cream.

Until a loud “Excuse me!” came from the direction of the picnic tables. Adam pulled off Ronan’s mouth long enough to glance over to where one of the mothers was standing and staring at them pointedly. When she met Adam’s eyes, she called out, “There are children here.”

“Well, we’re not going to be making any kids in here,” Ronan said, but thankfully not loud enough to carry. Adam had to snort back a laugh and squeezed his leg harder. That seemed counterproductive because Ronan pulled him back in for another kiss that carried on until Adam bit his bottom lip.

“We’d better stop before she calls the cops and reports us for public indecency. Or before Mike reports the car stolen.”

Ronan harrumphed and shot a dark look at the mother who was still watching them and glaring. Adam grabbed his wrist right before Ronan’s middle finger cleared the dashboard. Ronan sighed and surrendered.

“I really am getting ice cream. Tell me what you want before I get you the biggest tub of teaberry they have.”

Adam knew it wasn’t an empty threat and he grimaced at the thought of Pepto Bismol flavored ice cream, so he asked for a strawberry sundae with chocolate ice cream. Ronan nodded approvingly and returned from the order window with it and a hot caramel sundae with chocolate ice cream for himself, along with a soft pretzel to share. Adam made him return to the window for wads of paper napkins to make sure the car stayed spotless.

When the garbage had been dumped and a few more sticky kisses exchanged, Ronan murmured, “What are you going to tell them back at work?”

“Well, it depends. Do you wanna buy this little beauty?”

“No way. It’s nowhere near as good as my car.”

“You’re right. But it is nice,” Adam patted the dashboard lovingly then realized Ronan was looking at him strangely.

“Do you want it?” Ronan asked seriously.

Adam laughed. “No way in hell. I’m not near to having my mid-life crisis yet so I don’t need a showy convertible. It’s just nice.”

“Fine,” Ronan said, settling back in his seat, “so sorry, I’m not buying this toy.”

But Adam was still laughing, struck by a sudden thought. “That would really show them, though. You come in, take me for a drive, you buy the car, and then give it to me.”

Ronan smiled and joined in his laughter. “You gonna let me finally make you a sugar baby?”

“No,” Adam wiped at his watering eyes with a napkin, “because if I was looking for a sugar daddy, I would’ve taken Gansey up on it years ago.” And he burst out laughing again.

Ronan didn’t seem to think that was funny at all which only made Adam laugh harder.

“So, you going to tell them at your job that we’re actually going out?”

“Nah,” Adam tried to get himself under control again, “it’s more fun like this. You can come in again in a couple weeks, look around, maybe we can try out a SUV or minivan.”

“For all my kids and farm animals?”

“No, for the big, roomy back seats,” Adam leaned over and bit Ronan’s ear lobe making Ronan give a full body shudder. But it did put him instantly into a better mood.

“OK, deal. I’ll tell them you were a fine salesman but this car just doesn’t fit my farming lifestyle.”

“Good,” Adam sighed and leaned back to stretch his arms up until he felt a satisfied pop in his back. “And thanks for breaking up the monotony of my days on that car lot. Sometimes I feel like I’m going to put down roots right through the asphalt.”

“Anything for you,” Ronan said. “But next time, I’m coming up with the role play scenario.”

“I can barely wait,” Adam promised Ronan’s smirk that assured him it would be good. “Now. Let me drive back.”

“No! You can drive it whenever you want because you work there!”

“Yeah, and they know that with all the more they pay me that I’ll never be able to afford a car like this. So let me drive it back, and I’ll let you top tonight.”

Ronan pretended to consider it but he couldn’t shove the key at Adam fast enough. “I wouldn’t want you cheating on me with dolls and pretty princesses and curves anyway.”

“Sure, sweetheart. Whatever you need to tell yourself.” Then they scrambled over each other trying to exchange seats, and Adam nabbed Ronan’s sunglasses with a smirk as he settled behind the wheel. “Think I can beat your time getting back to the lot? Hold on to your hair, oops sorry, bad joke.”

Ronan was still grumbling when Adam pulled out, much more carefully than Ronan had entered. But it didn’t stop Ronan from twining his fingers through Adam’s on the gear shift or his loud whoop of happiness when Adam finally got it into fifth gear. Princess or not, it was a good day to spend with his very own Prince Charming.

*This is dedicated to the car salesman I watched standing there looking like that Ben Affleck picture only without the cigarette. He was no Adam Parrish though.

*One of the craziest things about writing in this fandom is allowing out the weird Appalachian vocabulary I grew up with and finally speaking the language of my foremothers. Bless.

*The author has only had one good car buying experience and it was with a young man about Adam’s age so this is dedicated to him too. Granted, they don’t usually make you give up your driver’s license when a salesperson rides with you and I’ve never had one ask for insurance but this is Ronan MF Lynch we’re talking about and no one is handing him the keys to a vehicle unless they have some proof that he actually has a license and insurance. And possibly enough money to cover for stealing and/or wrecking a sports car.

*So I’ve got two other fluffy comedies that I’ve been poking at for a while. Should I finish and post them? Does anyone else out there need some escapism and (hopefully) at least a sensible chuckle once in a while? Along with some kissing (and more 😉)?

#ronan lynch #adam parrish #the raven cycle #trc #trc fic #my fic #i'm sorry all i can write these days is fluff and silliness #Now on AO3 #Teaberry is a very underrated and delightful ice cream flavor #i love it #it's really good in sundaes too