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“I still can’t believe you named him after me,” James said, gawking at the vibrant parrot from behind the birdcage. Flint stared back, unfazed and ready for war. “Are you just unimaginative or sappy? No, wait, you’re too mean to be sappy.”
“Don’t feel flattered. I thought “Hmm, who else do I know that hardly shuts up, demands a lot of my time, and could potentially kill me?” and your image appeared in my mind’s eye.”
James faked a wounded look. “And I thought it was because you liked me.”
“Like you? That’s ridiculous. I barely tolerate you,” he grinned, snaking his arm around James’ waist. “Although you aren’t too bad these days.”
“These days,” he tapped his finger under John’s chin, leaning closer so his lips moved over John’s ear. “But just you wait, eventually the green-eyed monster will appear.”
“I thought that was just your natural form?” John teased. “Too bad, I fell in love with him already.” It occurred to him that this was the first time, or the most honest time, that he ever told James about love. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to eat those words and bury himself alive, but he didn’t need to.
James looked at him, and the earnestness on his face was enough to take John’s breath away. “Thank you.”
“Thank you? ” John repeated, incredulous.
“Yeah, well, I’m not an easy person to love. And all things considered, I love you too. This transaction of emotions is going rather well, don’t you think?”
“You’re a fucking idiot, James Flint.”
“And yet—”
“You’re a fucking idiot, James Flint,” echoed Flint the parrot.