#sonboyadam

And he didn’t, not anymore. Not much, anyway. There were good days and bad days; but the important thing was that once that wall had crumbled – once Ronan had started loving himself again – he’d cautiously dared to reach out to the rest of his feelings, including the ones he felt for a certain over-tired, stubborn, car-fixing, uncanny, beautiful-handed magician.

The problem was that once he’d started – once he’d thrown open the floodgates – he’d been unable to stop feeling those feelings. Ronan now lived in fear that one word too much would give him away, reveal his innermost desires, gushing out of him like a volcanic eruption. Adam probably knew, anyway. He was clever like that. Ronan thought he knew, at least – there was something different, weighted, in the looks he sometimes cast Ronan’s way – but if he did, he hadn’t said anything about it, whether to acknowledge Ronan’s feelings or reject them.

Ronan could tell him. But he didn’t know what it would do to their friendship. And it turned out, now that he was no longer consumed with jealousy over Gansey or trying hard to choke down his own shameful, fearful feelings, he quite enjoyed being Adam’s friend. He didn’t want to ruin it all on a chance. So he kept quiet; he hoped and waited and watched (literally – he looked at Adam quite a bit, more than before, probably more than was wise).

Which would be far, far easier to do without a certain feathered traitor.

Because as Ronan’s luck would have it, Chainsaw fucking loved Adam Parrish.

Right now, for instance, she was perched on Adam’s shoulder with a startling gentleness, one she didn’t even display for her own creator, if Ronan’s constantly scratched shoulders were anything to go by. Well. He supposed wearing tank tops didn’t help, but still. You could just see Chainsaw holding her body primly so she wouldn’t weigh down Adam too much. Damned ass-kissing bird.

Right now, she was staring adoringly at Adam as he tried to eat a truly pathetically thin peanut butter sandwich without jostling her too much. Ronan could tell because he was also staring from across the cramped St. Agnes attic (no, not adoringly, fuck you very much).

…Okay, maybe a little adoringly.

Chainsaw hopped down from Adam’s shoulder to land on his forearm. She cocked her head imploringly, black eyes fixed on the sandwich. “Kreker?” she asked shamelessly. Ronan could have smacked her - or himself. He hadn’t spent hours trying to teach her to speak just so she could try and steal Parrish’s sad excuse for a dinner.

“No, not a cracker,” Adam replied, seriously, as if he was holding a conversation with an actual person. He paused for a moment, as if he was looking for a term that a corvid could replicate more easily than peanut butter sandwich.

“Snack,” he landed on eventually, waving the sandwich a little as Chainsaw followed it avidly. “It’s a snack.”

Chainsaw flapped her wings once, then cocked her head to the opposite side. “Snack,” she barked.

Well, Ronan thought. I’ll be fucked.

“Clever girl!” Adam praised, kind of in the same tone he used whenever Gansey demonstrated that he’d retained a fact about car engines. He tore off a corner of his sandwich – with some difficulty, since he still had a very hefty raven pinning his arm down – and offered it to Chainsaw, who gobbled it up greedily.

“Hey, shitbird! That’s not yours. Leave Parrish’s sandwich alone,” Ronan called out across the room. Leave Parrish alone, he wanted to add. Stop acting like all you want is to be near him. This was a dangerous game to play. Adam knew Chainsaw was dreamt. He knew about how the night horrors, his deadlier-looking dream creatures, only ever wanted what Ronan wanted. He knew Ronan looked at him more than a friend should. He was observant, and he was smart. It was only a matter of time before he connected the dots. If he hasn’t already, Ronan thought with some unease, glaring at Chainsaw as he nervously bit on the leather bands at his wrist. Seriously, just stop.

Chainsaw blatantly ignored him.

“It’s alright,” Adam said, looking back at Chainsaw. Which meant he had been looking at Ronan just now. Possibly. Maybe. “I don’t mind,” he added, tearing off another piece of bread and feeding it to the raven. There was a small smile playing about his lips, amused and almost fond – like he was enjoying Chainsaw’s proximity and attention, even if it was coming at the expense of his food.

Chainsaw chirped happily – since when did ravens chirp, anyway?! – and flapped herself back up to Adam’s shoulder, hopping closer to his head this time. Most people would be a little nervous having a huge-ass bird with an extremely sharp beak that close to their face, but Adam only held himself still, waiting, his head tilted a little to the side. Chainsaw took that opportunity to nestle into the crook of his neck and puff up contentedly.

Oh my God, are you fucking kidding me, Ronan thought furiously. He thought he could feel a blush creeping up his own neck.

He wanted badly to call Chainsaw back – assuming she would even obey – but he couldn’t bring himself to do it when Adam looked so genuinely pleased, like any and all affectionate physical contact was surprising and delightful.

“Atom.”

There was a moment of silence in the room.

“Did she just say my name?”, Adam asked.

“Not sure,” Ronan lied, studiously staring at the raven  – glaring at the raven – and not Adam.

“Yeah, she did. She said ‘Adam’.”

Ronan made an ‘eh’ face. “I think it was more like ‘atom’.”

Adam shot him an unimpressed look. “I doubt your raven is interested in molecular science.” He carefully put down his sandwich and reached up to gently pet Chainsaw, using one long index finger to stroke down the soft feathers around her beak. “Even though she is very clever. Good girl!”

“Atom!” Chainsaw crowed again. The word wasn’t any clearer but the way she rubbed her head into Adam’s jaw made the meaning very apparent.

Adam looked at Ronan with a little triumphant smirk. Ronan rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, Parrish. Here, you little bastard. Let Parrish finish his food.”

Chainsaw flapped her wings in discontent. “Atom snack?” she asked balefully.

“No,” Ronan said firmly. “Enough ‘snack’ for you.”

Even as he was still speaking, Adam replied, to Chainsaw, “Yes, Adam is gonna eat a snack. Clever girl. Good bird. Are you gonna let me finish it?”

Chainsaw barked once at him, but not unkindly, before flying the short distance over to Ronan’s outstretched arm.

Ronan glared at her for a few moments, then turned his glare on Adam.

“You’re undermining my parenting,” he accused.

“Well she has to learn manners somewhere,” Adam replied around a mouthful of sandwich.

“Hilarious,” Ronan muttered, stroking Chainsaw’s head, absently tracing the same path Adam’s finger had. She tucked her head in contentedly, as if allowing him to pet her was a conciliatory gesture on her part. She was still staring at Adam as he wolfed down the sandwich.