[ Ronan's features go back to neutral as the conversation shifts. Poking at the skin under his bracelets, he nods, furtively looking over to where Adam is sitting, Barricaded making little police noises around him. ]

Yeah, I was home. Were you not? [ And how would it be possible, please and thank you.

At the term 'boyfriend', Ronan's eyes slide to Adam again, lingering for a moment before he turns back to the conversation. ]

Trap? As in 90's grime hip-hop? I thought it was music reserved to drug dealers.

[ Is your boyfriend a drug dealer, Axel? ]