You were the last good thing about this part of town

by poopinglillies

Summary:

“I do say your name sometimes,” Chris says.
Adrian looks up at him. “Huh?”
“You said I never call you by your name. Don’t I call you Adrian sometimes?”
“No, you literally almost never call me Adrian, you either call me V or Vij or Vigilante or, like, dumbass. And that’s a good thing. I mean not calling me dumbass, because that’s a little hurtful, but I know you’re working on it. But not calling me by my name. It’s tactical."

When Chris is in prison, Adrian has a tough time. Now Chris is back and everything is rainbow-colored again. Adrian struggles with his feelings.

(Can be read as a standalone story.)

Notes:

Title from Grand Theft Autumn - Fall Out Boy

Part of a series but can be read separately.
Adrian is my favorite homicidal bean.

Chapter 1

Adrian’s mind sometimes goes very blank. He gets overwhelmed easily. So sometimes he needs to make himself non-whelmed. Everything just blurs into so much that it gets sucked into a black hole that hovers around inside his head and then there’s nothing. So he can start the process of filling his mind up again.

Today is a sort of overwhelmed day. He knows it’s no good when he blanks out at work, even though there are days when nobody talks to him except to tell him to ‘Clean table 5, quick’ or ‘You forgot to switch the napkin holders, Adrian’, which requires more of a blank stare and nod than a proper vocalized answer. When he blanks out too hard, it takes him a while to react to things. 

He doesn’t ever blank out when he’s Vigilante. He’s in full control then. Vigilante is in control.

To avoid the overwhelmingness of everyone talking around him during the pre-dinner shift prep, he’s thinking about his top 5 ways to die. He’s been thinking about that one a lot lately. Number 1 would definitely be getting blown up by a bomb – either on a boat or in a place in the middle of the ocean. It would be impossible for any forensics team to uncover his identity then, or even recover his body, since he would be split into an endless amount of pieces. He thinks it might feel nice to get turned into a bunch of pieces. He wonders which part of him he would be able to feel last. He hopes it’s his eyeball.

Number 2 would be shotgun to the face, close-distance. No facial recognition and also a ghastly cool corpse (no face!). They would probably get his fingerprints though, but by then he will have hopefully gotten around to burning his prints off. He doesn’t have the one on his index finger from when he accidentally placed his hand on the stove when trying to help Clara the sous-chef with cleaning the counter. So that’s just nine more fingerprints to go! But that one hurt pretty bad, so he’s not super looking forward to getting the rest done.

Peacemaker has been gone for three years now. 

Not gone-gone. It’s not that he’s dead. As if! He’s just in a maximum security prison serving a couple of life sentences. But Adrian is very patient. He can wait – he’s waited three years already! He knows Peacemaker will get out at some point. And then they’ll go back to blowing stuff up and fighting crime and being a really badass duo again. 

The waiting isn’t the problem. Adrian can wait for Chris forever if he has to. It’s just all the time he is left with, tucked inside that waiting. It’s a lot of time.

Adrian has trouble filling the time with stuff. He has work, which is good, he has Vigilante work, which is really good and fun and rad, but when he’s not Vigilante and when he’s not wiping tables he has a lot of time, and it’s just him, alone in it. It used to be easier when he was in school and there was an endless stream of new people and information for his brain to pick at, and his parents, and Dorian and Chris, but nowadays it’s like everything has slowed down. Ever since Peacemaker left, thoughts tend to pop up with nothing to focus on or look forward to – hence the constant overwhelmingness and then blankness and then overwhelmingness. He’s been thinking about death a lot lately (his 5 ways to die list is on a constant loop around his head – it changes all the time).

It isn’t weird , because that’s kind of his job (well, being a busboy is his job, which has nothing to do with death unless hygiene standards really plummet. But death is kind of his side job). Sometimes he feels an urge to just strangle someone, like when a client calls him over to complain about the pasta being lukewarm even though he didn’t cook it, or some group of old dudes tries to flirt with Cady or Stacey when they’re just doing their waitering jobs, and then he kind of gets that bubbling up and over kind of feeling, and then when he becomes Vigilante he gets reckless, and gets into bad scraps. One time he almost ended up in the ER when a lady found him passed out in his battered Vigilante suit by the Commodore Bridge and called 911, except he was awake before the ambulance could arrive and just rushed home and left his car by the interstate. He had to go back to get it a few days later, just to make sure he hadn’t been recognized. 

Sometimes he worries he might die being Vigilante while Chris is still in prison and he tries to dial it down. Then he’s going over the top 5 ways he would like to die again, and in all of them Chris is there too, to witness his final moments and hopefully do something really badass to avenge his best friend. He doesn’t think he wants to die alone. He probably will though.

At least he hopes it can be from a shotgun to the face. He doesn’t want anyone – much less Peacemaker – finding out his lame secret identity.

“Adrian! Earth to Adrian?” Cady waves a hand in front of his face. Adrian blinks himself back into focus, back to the real world of his real job where there is no death or killing people. Cady pops a bubblegum loudly. “Jesus. We don’t gotta be here all day.”

“Sorry!” Adrian says, pushing up his glasses. “Yes! Present!”

“Yes? So you will take Jenna’s Saturday and Sunday slots for the next three weeks?” Harry his manager asks.

“Oh,” Adrian replies. He wasn’t really listening. Weekends are usually the best days for crime-fighting. He tries to keep them free if he can. But they’re also most in demand for people who want to do other things besides crime-fighting, like go out to drink and eat mediocre pasta or dance or hang out with friends. But now it’s too late. “Sure, I can take them.”

Cady sniggers next to him. “Gonna have to cancel a lot of exciting plans, huh?”

“Yeah, with his right-hand,” Curt adds. Both he and Cady giggle. Adrian blinks at them, unsure. He laughs along, just in case, but then they stop laughing.

“Thank you, Adrian!” Jenna says to him. Adrian smiles brightly at her. His service worker smile. He’s practiced that a lot. He thinks he’s almost got the hang of it. There hasn’t been that much to smile about – really smile about, not fake smile – since Peacemaker left anyway.

“Just be careful if you go out because policing is pretty lax on weekends,” Adrian tells her. “You should always carry mace on you. It’s legal in all 50 states.”

“Uh, right. Thanks.”

Adrian wonders if today is going to be one of those days where nobody talks to him for the rest of his shift. He mentally prepares. The blank. Anyway, number 3 in his top favorite ways to die…

“Vij, get a move on, the whole building is compromised,” Chris’ voice booms in his head through his ear piece. Adrian cringes. Chris can never control his volume properly.

“In a minute,” Adrian replies, in a normal volume, pulling out the hard-drive from the computer he found on the second floor. There’s an alarm ringing above his head, and he can hear gunfire downstairs. He still has a few minutes, really.

“Vij, fucking move! Now!”

Something explodes, and there’s a rumbling noise under his feet, but the rumble is so strong it actually makes the floor sway. He sways along, dropping the hard-drive, which skids over to the corner of the office. He rushes over to pick it up. There’s a second explosion under his feet, and the floor falls through to his right. He manages to snatch the hard-drive, but pieces of flint and glass are falling from the ceiling, and it’s getting a little harder to see through the smoke and dust rising up.

“Vij!”

“I’m coming!” Adrian replies. He tucks the hard drive into one of his pockets. Then there’s a third blast, nearer this time, making his ears ring, and he can feel everything tilting under his feet. “Uh, is the building crashing or do I have a concussion again?” He did get hit on the head pretty hard by one of the men downstairs before he slashed his throat. There weren’t supposed to be that many people, according to intel. That’s why Vij only trusted his own intel, and always brought more knives than there might be targets.

“Both, I expect,” comes Harcourt’s voice, steady as always. She doesn’t scream at him half as much as Peacemaker does, but he tries to be understanding about P’s temper issues. “Can you make it to the first floor exit? You’ll have to make a jump for it, half the stairs have fallen through.”

“I can just jump out the window too,” Adrian suggests. “I like doing that.”

“I’m gonna go get him,” Chris replies.

“Peacemaker, no,” she states. “Vigilante, the stairs. Now .”

“Ok, I’ll try the stairs,” Vij cedes. Peacemaker is supposed to be keeping an eye on the entrance while everyone waits in the van. “Peacemaker, you still downstairs? Oh– oops.” He dodges a pointed gun to his face the moment he leaves the room, pushes it back with his hand and watches the bullet hit a wall, before turning back to the neo-nazi to stick his own gun under his chin and shoot. “Fuck, caught me by surprise!” he laughs, hopping down the second floor stairs which are still mostly intact save for rubble. 

“ Adrian !” Chris barks against his ear. 

Adrian immediately perks up and is about to tell him off, but everything sways dangerously to the left again and Vij gets thrown against the railing. 

He can see the first floor beneath him. He looks over at the stairs, which have been blown halfway, thinks he can jump over the railing and down and maybe just twist an ankle before a piece of drywall falls and crushes his head in. He decides to just go for it, tries to get some momentum by moving back slightly, but the swaying and his aching head make it hard to line himself up. He jumps less gracefully than usual, does a front flip to get his feet out in front of him, hits the ground hard but manages to roll to avoid too much damage. He’s already on his feet and running towards the entrance when he feels a hand slap him on the arm, and Peacemaker is rushing next to him.

“Where were you going?” he asks, confused. Peacemaker was supposed to be out front.

“To get you, you fucking idiot!” P replies.

“I told you I was coming!”

“You said a fucking minute!”

“Yeah, well, that’s a common expression! It’s not supposed to be taken literally!”

“Then next time maybe be more fucking literal inside a falling building!”

“Boys–out now,” Harcourt says in their ear system. They’re basically out the door anyway, make it a couple more meters for good measure as the building collapses into itself. Which is pretty badass. Adrian whistles at the sight and looks at P to make sure he’s also seeing the cool thing, but Peacemaker is hunched over trying to catch his breath. He’s always been bad at cardio.

“They had the whole place rigged to implode in case of an invasion,” Harcourt explains when they get back to the van. “This was a huge waste of our time, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, and we almost got ourselves blown up over this fucking bullshit. Vij here was taking his sweet fucking time prancing around.”

“I was being thorough in my investigation! And– ta-da!” Adrian pulls out the hard-drive from one of his pants’ velcro pockets.

Chris doesn’t look impressed. “The fuck is that?”

“Hard drive!”

Chris looks over at Harcourt, who is shrugging her shoulders. “Not a complete waste then. Do we know what this was connected to?”

“It was the only computer I could find on the second floor. It looked like a main office.”

“I’ll look into it,” Economos says. “Now can you guys get in the van so we can get the fuck out of there before the rest of the nazis come sniffing?”

“Good job, Vigilante,” Harcourt says, tapping him on the arm. She even smiles at him. Adrian smiles back. “Let’s get your head looked at now, huh?”

“Yeah!” Adrian replies. Adebayo gives him a hand to get into the van and Chris climbs behind him, squeezing his shoulder with his gloved hand. Adrian just kind of gives him a cold look, because now he remembers he should be angry.

“You good, Vij?” Chris asks.

“Sure, except my head hurts,” he replies, sitting down where Adebayo is tapping the space next to her, an emergency kit at the ready. He doesn’t think that’s at all necessary, but he doesn’t mind much. He takes off his mask once he’s sitting down, taking a deep breath of fresh air. “And you almost compromised my identity!” He glares at Chris’ general direction, because he can’t really see him. He taps around for his glasses and puts them on and Chris is sitting in front of him and staring, confused. Adrian makes sure to keep the frown settled in his face.

“What? No, I didn’t!” Chris immediately replies.

“When?” Harcourt asks.

“What the fuck, Chris?” Adebayo says, pushing Adrian’s hair away so she can press an ice pack against his right temple. He hisses at the contact against his bruised skin, but holds the ice pack in place when Adebayo lets go.

“Yes, you did! You called me by my name on the comms!” Adrian says. Chris looks momentarily shamed into silence. “What if the guy I had just killed was still alive to hear it, huh?”

“Then he would’ve been dead a second after,” Chris says.

“Well, there could have been multiple guys. You didn’t know! Maybe I didn’t kill everybody who saw me!”

“You didn’t?” Adebayo asks.

“Of course I did,” Adrian says. “I’m thorough.”

“I’m going to let this slide because this mission was enough of a shitshow as it is,” Harcourt replies. “But Vigilante has a point, Chris. Codenames only.”

“How come the rest of us don’t have codenames?” Economos asks from the front. “Isn’t that a security risk for us?”

“I think I’d like a codename,” Adebayo muses.

“Vigilante is the only one who actually has a secret identity. Why the fuck do you all want condenames? I don’t have a code name. You’re not even out in the field.”

“I am sometimes,” Adebayo argues.

“You’re Amanda Waller’s daughter. That’s not getting out of the system. Every criminal knows your face.”

“You could wear a mask like mine,” Vigilante suggests to her. “I know a guy.”

Adebayo puts a hand to her chin. “Seems a bit uncomfortable.”

“You could be Pink Vigilante!”

“Why would I be pink?”

“Girls are pink and boys are teal, and those colors go great together.”

“That’s very sexist, Vij.”

Adrian didn’t mean to be sexist. He tries to fix that. “Well, uh, pink is also vagina-coded. And you’re a lesbian. So you could be Lesbian Vigilante!” Adebayo gives him a look, so he assumes he salvaged the situation. He hopes she will consider it.

“I’ll give you a pass cause you hit your head,” she says.

“Isn’t Adrian already in the system?” Chris asks, ignoring their fun little banter.

“Surprisingly, no,” Harcourt says, leaning back with her arms crossed. “He’s on the paycheck on a need-to-know-basis. And we are the only ones in the know.”

Adrian preens holding his ice pack in place. He even accepts the Tylenol that Adebayo offers. “Fucking A. That’s cause I’m thorough,” he says, munching on the tylenol.

“You’re just supposed to swallow–” Adebayo says, then drops her hands. “You know, what, forget it.”

“What? It’s more like a tic tac this way.”

“It was a slip of the tongue, dude,” Chris says, after a moment.

“How come? You don’t even call me by my name when we’re just hanging out.”

“What the hell does he call you?” Economos asks.

Adrian shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t think he does. Stupid, sometimes?”

“Wow, Chris,” Adebayo states. Adrian is too busy blinking to pay attention. Suddenly he feels a bit tired. Maybe it was a really strong tylenol. “You ok?’ Adebayo asks, turning to him.

Chris moves forward, leaning his forearms on his knees. “You concussed, dude? Should we drop by the vet clinic to have them look you over?”

“I don’t think the vet clinic deals with human concussions,” Adebayo points out.

“We’re not dropping me anywhere. I’m not compromising my identity any further tonight.” He gives Chris a meaningful look, which Chris ignores. “I’ll just sleep it off.”

“That’s the one thing you are not supposed to do with a concussion,” Harcourt says, pressing her fingers against the bridge of her nose.

“Hm, I don’t think that’s right. That’s what I always do.”

“Should one of us keep an eye on you tonight?” Harcourt asks this question by looking directly at Chris. Chris rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, sure, party at my trailer tonight.”

“Sweet, a party!” Adrian smiles, feeling a loopy sort of giddiness. “Oh yeah, but I’m still angry at you.”

“Great.”

Chris agrees to drive the Vigilantemobile because Harcourt claims Adrian is not capable of driving right now. He tries to argue that he is, but only half-heartedly, because he is kind of tired and wouldn’t mind just sitting shotgun. Maybe he is a bit concussed. He usually has plenty of pent-up energy after a mission – especially after getting to kill a bunch of bad guys.

After a few seconds of Adrian lolling his head around to try to find a good position to sleep in, Chris snaps at him and undoes all the work. “Dude! No fucking sleeping!”

“I know, I know,” Adrian replies. “I’m not even concussed. He didn’t hit that hard. I have a powerful forehead.”

“No, you don’t,” Chris replies. Adrian opens his mouth to argue, but Chris adds: “And you know what, I’m pissed at you too.”

Adrian perks up in his seat, wincing at the movement. “What? Don’t be! Why?” He can’t have Chris being mad at him . It’s hard enough being mad at Chris.

“Because!” Chris replies. He’s gripping the steering wheel unnecessarily hard, but Adrian avoids pointing that out. “Dude. You gotta do what I tell you during missions.”

“Oh.” Adrian relaxes back against the seat. “Sorry. Harcourt congratulated me for getting the hard drive though.”

“It doesn’t matter! Fuck the hard drive.”

“No! That was important!”

“It’s not that important. If a building’s about to fall on your fucking head, it’s not important.”

“I was being careful. I always know what I’m doing. I know my stuff.” Adrian doesn’t sound very convincing to himself. He tries again. “I got all my exits mapped out.”

“You literally suggested jumping out of a window.”

“It was one of my exits!”

“No offense, Vij, but now you’re just being stupid.”

“You weren’t being careful at all, in my opinion,” Adrian points out instead, because he’s running out of things to say in his own defense. “Jeopardizing my– my identity.”

“It slipped, ok. Let it go.”

“Well, don’t do it again. I’m Vigilante.”

“That doesn’t matter if you’re about to get killed.”

“I’m still Vigilante.”

Chris goes quiet. “You’re right. Sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Adrian blinks at him, unsure of how to react at being apologized to. This never happens. “Are we sure you’re not concussed too?”

Chris barks out a laugh. It sends another jolt of pain up Adrian’s aching head, but it’s his favorite sound, so it makes him smile all the same. “Nobody aimed a fucking metal pipe at my head, I don’t think.”

“They’d have to go through my head first,” Adrian says, grinning, and since Chris won’t let him nod off, he curls back against the door and leans his head against the seat to get a good look at Chris, – Peacemaker – uniform stained with grime and sawdust and splotches of blood, and he feels that fluttering in his chest that always comes when Chris is in his center of vision. It’s a grounding feeling, like his chest is a junkyard full of scrap metal jingling and crashing together but looking at Chris lets him melt it all down into raw material. For repurposing. He feels melted down.

Chris sneaks a glance at Adrian, looking at him. He makes a face Adrian doesn’t really get. “What you looking at?”

“You,” Adrian replies, because it should be obvious. “There’s nothing else to look at.”

Chris looks away to cough against his hand, which defeats Adrian’s purpose.

“I wish we had, like, a TV in the car or something,” Adrian says, glancing over the center console. “Maybe I should install one of those baby tablets. They come with the holder and everything. I can put it in the backseat so next time one of us is concussed we can watch cartoons.”

Chris snorts. “Does it have to be a baby tablet?”

“Yeah, P, they’re way cheaper and they come with the holder, I’m not made of money.”

Chris laughs again and Adrian laughs along, making his own head throb painfully. He barely feels it anyway.

“Hey, Eagly!!” Adrian says, dropping to his knees to give him a pet. Eagly leans toward him, squawking, and presses his head to Adrian’s hand, ruffling his feathers. Adrian looks up at Chris with a grin, because he always likes Chris to see how much Eagly likes him. He’s hoping Chris will finally agree to name him official uncle or godfather, so if he ever goes to jail again Adrian can be the one to look after Eagly – especially now that they’ve killed Chris’ dad, so he can’t babysit anymore.

Chris is watching them, with a smile (score!). After a few seconds, Eagly steps back, and Chris pulls Adrian up to his feet. “Okay, princess. Clothes off, then shower.”

Adrian groans. “Can I just go to sleep?”

“What did Harcourt say?”

Adrian thinks about it. “She said I shouldn’t bring grenades to work anymore and that Sour Patch Kids don’t count as fruit, even though they are fruit-flavored. But I’m still not really convinced. She didn’t back that up with data or anything.”

“No,” Chris replies. He puts a lot of emphasis on that word. “She said you’re not supposed to sleep. In case you have a concussion.”

“Oh. Yeah, ok, right.”

Chris raises an eyebrow at him. Adrian squirms under his stare. “When is my birthday?”

“September 2nd 1981,” Adrian says. “Dude, you think I’d forget your birthday!”

“Nah, I’m testing your brain.”

“Oh, ok. Did I pass? Or is there a follow-up question?”

“Yeah, you passed,” Chris huffs out. “Now go shower. And no goofing around, I wanna shower too. No double-shampooing.”

Adrian sighs. “Now you just want me to have bad hair, on top of my concussion.”

But Adrian dutifully gets off his dirty, sticky uniform and takes a shower in Chris’ bathroom. His head still hurts a bit, so he keeps the water on colder than usual – that way, Chris will also not complain that he’s wasting all the hot water. He gets out of the shower and steps onto Chris’ ragged bath mat, feeling a bit lightheaded, like he’s coming out of a sauna, but at least his headache has laid off a bit. Chris is rapping on the bathroom door as soon as he turns off the water.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” Adrian calls back. “But naked.”

“Want a blowjob?”

“Yeah!” Adrian hops in place. The day is getting better and better. Except for getting hit in the head and stuff.

“Let me shower first.”

“We should've just showered together.”

“We would never fit in there.” Chris has a point, but that will not stop Adrian from suggesting that every chance he gets. Adrian gets out of the shower, towel around his waist, hair still dripping a little though he tried to shag the water off like a dog. Chris is holding a pair of black sweatpants that are actually Adrian’s because he left them at Chris’ last time they hooked up. Adrian reaches out his hand for them, but Chris holds them away from him, and his eyes roam over Adrian’s body from head to chest. Adrian feels a thrill shoot through him, that scrap metal feeling, the furnace turned all the way up. He loves when Chris looks at him.

“Pants?” Adrian asks, but he feels all smug about it. Chris can tell, when he finally raises his eyes to Adrian’s face..

“Sit on the bed,” Chris says.

“Blowjob?” Adrian asks, feeling the warm tingling in his insides. 

“Yeah,” Chris says. He directs him to the bed with a not-so-gentle hand on his shoulder, pushes him down and drops the sweatpants on the floor, before falling to his knees as well. Adrian throws one of the nearby beat-up pillows to him, so he can put it under his knees. Then watches him, heart speeding up, as Chris traces his fingers over a swelling, purple blotch around his right hip. “Is this from today?”

“Oh, yeah, probably from that pipe.” He got hit once or twice before they were able to cut through those guys. It barely even stings. It’ll probably be gone in the morning. He’s about to say that, but Chris has his mouth on the bruise, and it kind of feels like being electrocuted, but in a nice way.

Chris sucks at the wound, then laps at it with his tongue and Adrian groans, grabbing onto the sheets of Chris’ bed with both hands so he can keep himself propped up. Then Chris is pulling at the already-loosened towel covering Adrian’s hard-on. 

Chris chuckles. “You got your gun loaded already?”

“Always,” Adrian says bashfully, then clarifies: “I mean, my literal guns are always loaded. My dick is not always like this. I think that’d probably make me a sex offender.”

“We’d have to kill you then, I guess.”

“Yeah, totally–,” Adrian bites his lip as Chris brings his mouth down on him. “Fuck, P– you feel so fucking good.” 

Adrian has learned that Chris likes praise. He brings down one of his hands to pet Chris’ short hair. Chris looks up at him. and Adrian can feel whatever is coiling in his groin tighten, ready to blow. “Full disclosure, I think I’m gonna cum in like a minute. It could be my concussion though.”

Chris eyes him, moves his dick out of his mouth for a moment, breath close to the head so Adrian still shivers at the feeling. “You’re gonna blame you shooting early on your concussion?”

“You know I can usually hold out, it’s just– I’m a bit tired–”

“Can’t sleep,” Chris replies matter-of-factly, and he swallows Adrian’s dick again. Adrian whines, bucks up once, but Chris has one of his giant sexy hands holding onto Adrian’s hip to keep him still, and his thumb is pressing near the bruise, which stings a bit, but in that electric-nice kind of way. Adrian feels lightheaded. He wants to lean on his elbows or fall back on the bed, but he also wants to keep watching Chris. Make a mental movie out of this scene, so whenever Chris decides he doesn’t want to screw around with Adrian anymore, Adrian will have all these reels in his head to go through and it will make it easier. 

“Fuck, I love your hands,” Adrian says. “I think you should choke me some time.” He can feel Chris muffling something beneath him. “We can talk about it later.”

Adrian knows this isn’t going to last forever. He knows he’s not the best at ‘reading’ situations, but he knows it’s nothing short of a miracle that Chris decided he wanted to experiment doing gay shit with Adrian. Chris explained it was like having a phase – like sometimes Adrian wants to sort all his knives into alphabetical order and sometimes he wants to go by length or by handle size. Sometimes Adrian has phases where he thinks too much and then everything becomes gray and meaningless and sad (like when Chris was in prison) and sometimes everything is rainbow-colored and he thinks the world is the best place ever (like when Chris got out of prison and they killed a bunch of aliens and nazis together). 

Chris is in his phase of being into men and, more importantly, thanks to his wishy-washy sexuality, he is in a phase where he is into Adrian. This is a phase that has had much more traction than Adrian could have even hoped for (‘forever’ is how much he would like this to last, ideally, but he wouldn’t hope for it cause it isn’t achievable. He was hoping to get at least a week’s worth of sex-capades with Chris, and it’s been four weeks and 4 days now). When Justin Rossum wanted to suck Adrian’s dick during last year of high school when they worked on the light setup of A Midsummer Night’s Dream together, that only lasted two weeks, and that was back when Justin was desperate to ‘scratch a gay itch’ before going to college and Adrian was very available and eager while they figured out the lights control panel together.

So he knows Chris is going to get over his Adrian phase and his men phase and go back to women soon. And when he does return to his men phase one day, he will probably not be looking for Adrian again – much like Justin Rossum when he finally got to college and decided he was actually totally gay and married a man like 5 years ago. So he wants to remember everything, for as long as this miracle lasts.

“Chris, I’m–” Adrian taps his shoulder once, but Chris holds him in his mouth as he cums, keeps on sucking him through it, then spits into a kleenex when he’s done. Chris doesn’t like swallowing. He likes when Adrian swallows though, and Adrian doesn’t see the need to complain because he not so secretly loves it. Chris gives Adrian’s inner thigh a final kiss, that turns into a small bite, and Adrian whines again. 

He’s so lucky.

“Can I do you?” Adrian asks, hand reaching out in a grabbing motion, feeling boneless, like he’s having an out-of-body experience. Chris is tenting very impressively in his tight pants.

“Nah, I’ll take care of it in the shower,” Chris says, getting up with a groan. “Fuck, my knees.”

“I keep telling you you should stretch before we go on missions, but you never wanna follow my routine. Your joints are going to catch up to you in about a year.”

“Yeah, cause stretching looks stupid,” Chris says, as he brushes his fingers through Adrian’s hair. His voice is a little hoarse. Adrian smiles up at him, excitedly, leans forward so his face is brushing against his Peacemaker uniform shirt, near the navel. He wishes Chris would push him on the bed and smother him like this. He would probably die from oxygen deprivation, but it would be such a comfortable death. That should probably go in his top-ways-to-die list.

“It’ll help with flexibility,” Adrian suggests. “For sex stuff.”

“I’m already good at sex.”

“The best. But you can be better.” He would love to be able to fold Chris like a pretzel when he fucks him. Chris has very inflexible legs.

“Then I’m not the best, am I?”

“I mean, so you can show off to, like, Harcourt and shit. And any girls who notice us patrolling outside missions. You can backflip for them.”

He hears a snort above him, but Adrian can feel Chris’ chest muscles tensing. He probably said something wrong. Maybe mentioning Harcourt? It’s probably a sore spot for Chris since he still hasn’t managed to get with her, even though Adrian knows he really wants to (in a way that is maybe a little upsetting to think about, but Adrian pointedly doesn’t think about it). It probably doesn’t help that Adrian is so much better at missions than Chris and always gets all the praise. 

“You can backflip for me too and I’ll be super impressed,” he adds, scrambling, lifting his head again to look at Chris’ face for any sign of change, even though that almost never helps either. Chris has a small frown line between his eyes, and his mouth is kind of stuck in a tight straight line. “Or you can just do that thing where you shoot a bullet into a smaller bullet. That’s very sexual too, I guess.”

Chris’ expression doesn’t change much, though his mouth slacks and he presses his hand against Adrian’s hair, pulling it back until Adrian has to lean back too. “Vij, you have to stop talking near my crotch if you want me to go take a shower.”

“Maybe I like being near your crotch. Can’t you take a shower after?”

Chris sighs, put upon, but Adrian is pretty sure that’s just pretend. Though he always assumes Chris being put upon is pretend, and he’s only right maybe 40% of the time. “Yeah, fuck it. What’s some blood and grime?”

Adrian beams. “I like you grimey!”

“Of course you do, you little freak,” Chris says, fingers still brushing Adrian’s hair. A lot of people have called him a freak in his life (Peacemaker included, multiple times), but when Chris says it like this it sounds like it means something else – a good thing. And Adrian is left seeing heart shapes, which is the only shape for Chris.

Chapter 2

Summary:

Chris takes care of a mildly-concussed Adrian. Secret identities are discussed.

Adrian texts Peacemaker often while he’s in prison. He knows he doesn’t have his phone with him, but it feels nice to text anyway, with that little spark of hope he might text back one day – maybe he’s been surprise-released from prison because he’s a superhero and the government needs him to fight crime and save the world and he’ll be back to Evergreen right after. And then he’ll text Adrian back.

He also leaves voicemails, especially after he goes patrolling and gets to serve some justice with his knives or his pistol and just has adrenaline buzzing up to his hair tips and his mouth just moves faster than he can even pronounce the words, but he wants to share it with Peacemaker, “dude, you just missed the best stakeout ever–”. He wants to share everything he’s doing with him, including all the boring shit at work, the time he got head from a new co-worker in the walk-in who was fired a week later for selling meth to customers, the new supplier he got for his prescription visor that’s finally got it the right shade of dark blue. But Peacemaker doesn’t know Adrian , only Vigilante, doesn’t even know Vigilante has bad eyesight (it might compromise his identity!). So Adrian gets to tell Peacemaker about all the cool shit Vigilante does, and leaves his secret identity life a secret, forever.

As if Peacemaker would want to be caught partnering up with Gut Chase’s little brother.

“Dude? That’s fuckin crazy. Cashews go first. Everyone knows they’re the tastiest.”

Adrian shakes his head. “They’re not a nut. They’re a drupe.”

Chris laughs. “Drupe? Now you’re just making shit up.”

“Cashews, then pistachios, then almonds,” Adrian recites, lifting his fingers. “That’s the ranking of drupes.”

“Almonds are a drupe too? The fuck?”

Adrian ignores him. “The ranking of nuts goes Brazil nuts, then walnuts, then–”

“My nuts,” Chris interjects. He does that little eyebrow wiggling thing that means it’s a sexual innuendo. Adrian laughs loudly before pausing to consider this in detail, fingers still raised.

“I guess your nuts do count towards the ranking, if only rhetorically,” he notes, finally, then groans and lets his hand drop. “Ugh, I’m gonna have to adjust everything!”

“Yeah, don’t put them with the fucking drupes. Even though drupes are way better. Just put me in first place above everything else.”

“Okay,” Adrian nods. Chris smiles at him. “Can I finish my ranking now?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Chris pats his side and Adrian leans to settle against his chest. He finishes his ranking and Chris only interrupts him twice, but he thinks the interruptions are fine since they’re both sexual. 

Adrian is half-lying against Chris’ chest on his couch, sipping a sports drink and enjoying Chris’ rising and falling chest while Chris switches channels and grumbles about how there’s only house flipping shows playing at this time of night. Adrian can’t sleep, and Chris has to keep an eye on him, and Chris gets all touchy and cuddly after they do sex stuff. He doesn’t even mind Adrian going on little rants, which is arguably the best part.

“I do say your name sometimes,” Chris says against Adrian’s hair.

“Huh?” Adrian looks up at Chris, bumping his glasses against his chin. Chris pulls his face away, and Adrian leans back.

“You said I never call you by your name. Don’t I call you Adrian sometimes?” Chris asks.

“No, you literally almost never call me Adrian, you either call me V or Vij or Vigilante or, like, dumbass. And that’s a good thing.” Adrian raises himself up on his elbows, mostly to grab at the pack of trail mix on the coffee table. “I mean not calling me dumbass, because that’s a little hurtful, but I know you’re working on it. But not calling me by my name. It’s tactical,” he adds, munching on one of the remaining cashew nuts.

Chris raises his hand, palm up, and Adrian lifts himself to grab Chris some trail mix. He tries to get a mix of the good stuff (drupes) with the okay things, because Chris tends to hog all the good ones and just leave the raisins.

“I don’t know, man,” Chris says, after munching. “I didn’t realize–it’s not that I’m doing it on purpose. Wouldn’t you rather I used your name? Like when we have sex and stuff?”

Adrian shrugged. “Not really.”

Chris goes quiet for a moment. Then he tickles Adrian’s left arm, making him squirm and yelp and lean back further against Chris’ chest. “Yo, Adrian,” Chris calls out, with a low, ruff voice. Adrian can feel that bubbly feeling in his chest at the voice, and his whole face goes warm. “Adriaaaan, I did it,” Chris continues, tickling at both arms and Adrian falls further down until he’s off Chris’ chest entirely and just lying on the couch cushion.

“Ah! That’s not fair!!,” he says, though his smile is so wide it kind of hurts his cheeks, “you know how I feel about that scene!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Vij.”

Adrian flips himself around so he can sit up, putting some distance between himself and Chris on the couch so he doesn’t get tickled again. He can’t help the warmth though, all over his face, and he’s sure Chris can see it. It scares him that Chris might figure it out, without him saying anything – he doesn’t know how to telegraph emotions, he doesn’t know when he’s being obvious or when he’s being subtle, it’s so fucking hard to tell on other people as is – and then the magic spell will be well and truly fucked. He tries to get his heated up face under control.

“I don’t know why you’re even bothering about it,” he says instead, fixing up his glasses and swiping the remote control from Chris’ forgotten side. He needs to be cool. He is cool. He’s cooler than cool – ice cold! “It really doesn’t matter.”

“You don’t have to be all cagey about your identity. I know who you are now. It’s not like you’re two different people.”

Adrian stays quiet at that. He wishes he was two different people. “It would be cool, though, being two people at once.”

“Dude. Only creeps like Batman do the whole two-personality secret identity bullshit. Everyone else is mostly normal about it. You’re the same guy when you’re Vigilante and Adrian. You even have the same stupid sense of humor.”

“So I’m not like Batman?”

“No, but that’s a good thing. You don’t want to be like Batman. He’s got like a bat fetish.”

“That’s pretty gross,” Adrian nods.

“Exactly. And he doesn’t even kill anyone.”

“Yeah, I guess he’s pretty garbage. I don’t wanna be like Batman. But I’m not because I kill so many people.”

“Yeah, but mostly because you don’t want to, you know, have a split personality disorder and shit.”

“Right. Okay. Yeah!”

Chris watches as Adrian switches channels until he gets to a Law & Order episode. “Can’t believe you’re making me watch this dumb show.”

“Law and order! Two of my favorite things!” Chris chuckles and waves Adrian over again, who gives him a skeptical look. “No tickling.”

“Nope,” Chris nods, smiling. Adrian grabs himself his sports drink and obediently lies back down against Chris’ chest. Chris slides his hand dangerously against Adrian’s bicep, and Adrian wiggles and hisses before he can try something again. “Just touching you,” Chris says very innocently.

“If I’m concussed, you’re not supposed to tickle me.”

“Where the hell did you get that from? I don’t even think you’re concussed, your head is probably immune by now.”

Adrian is pretty sure he is concussed, but he doesn’t say anything because he likes that Chris thinks he’s immune to something. It makes him seem very powerful. “The bouncing motion,” he explains. “It’s just logical.”

Eagly flies in from Chris’ bedroom window and squeals at them both for attention. Adrian offers him a peanut, which Chris removes from his hand. “Salted,” he says.

“Sorry, Eagly,” Adrian offers him an apologetic smile. Eagly shrills again, so Adrian thinks he is forgiven. “I’ll get you unsalted eagle chips next time. If I were a mouse, would you keep Eagly from eating me?” Adrian asks Chris, watching as Agent Benson on the screen interrogates a criminal.

“Nah, he could go to town on you,” Chris replies.

Adrian lifts his head to look up at Chris. “For real? You wouldn’t protect me?”

“Yeah. Mice carry diseases, man. They’re filthy. You’d have to go.”

“I could be a cute mouse! I could be very hygienic. I shampoo every day.”

“There is no such thing as a cute mouse. Trust me. I’ve dealt with my fair share.”

“I don’t trust you at all, you have no idea what you’re talking about. I’d be such a cute mouse.”

Adrian watches in eager concern as Chris thinks about it. “Is there a chance you'd ever turn back into a human?” Chris asks finally.

“There’s no way of knowing.”

“Maybe I would protect you for a bit. But after two weeks of you being a mouse I think I’d just toss you out into the wild or something for Eagly to catch.”

“P! I’d be a domestic mouse!”

“You’re not turning into a mouse,” Chris says.

Adrian huffs and settles back into his position to watch the criminal talk more about his criminal things. He likes when the criminal just dies. “It could happen. And I’d protect you for the rest of your short mouse-span life if it happened to you. I would carry you around in my shirt pocket.”

“Ok, one, if I ever turn into a mouse, just kill me on the spot. Two, enough with the mice talk, it’s disgusting,” Chris replies, brushing his hand against Adrian’s arm again. Adrian curls up in advance, but Chris just keeps his hand there, pressed against his arm. He can feel Chris’ breathing against his hair. “You know, you don’t really call me by my name either.”

“What do you mean?” Adrian asks. “Peacemaker? I thought you liked me calling you that.”

“I guess I kind of mind.”.

“But it’s such a good name! Peace is the best!” Adrian ponders it, looking at the screen. Agent Benson is never just Olivia to her colleagues. But maybe she’s Olivia to her friends, who the viewers never meet. It’s possible she’s like Adrian and doesn’t really have any friends outside of his work friends (and by work friends he means his secret work job as a superhero, not his busboy work. He has no busboy work friends). She’s very career-focused. “I call you Chris in my head. Sometimes I also call you Peacemaker, but mostly Chris.”

“Why not outside of your head then?”

“I don’t know,” Adrian lets out a giggle, not sure why. He realizes he feels a little embarrassed, like being caught red-handed. Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned the calling him Chris in his head thing. It's like a breach in the system. He suddenly moves, sitting up, away from Chris. It’s too much, and he doesn’t want to be too much, doesn’t want Chris to think–he’s asking for too much. “I’m best friends with Peacemaker. Chris is– my brother’s. It’s like an unspoken rule, I guess? Like how I’m not supposed to eat leftover rice after 5 days. But sometimes I do it anyway cause I’m out of leftovers and I get a stomachache.”

“Adrian, dude,” Chris says, and it sounds kind of slow, uncertain, in a way Chris’ voice never sounds, except when he’s sad or doing face exercises. “There’s no rule.”

“About the rice? No, I’m pretty sure there is. I work in a kitchen, P, we get food safety regulation talks all the time.”

“No.” Chris moves his leg, letting it bump against Adrian’s. “I know about the rice thing. It’s super dangerous.”

“Only if improperly refrigerated.”

“I’m talking about my name, man. Adrian. There’s no rule.”

“You sure?”

“Well, if there was, I’m taking it back. You can call me Chris. Peacemaker is not your BFF. I am. There’s just one of me. I’m not like Batman either”

“Except you don’t kill people anymore.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m a little more like Batman than you. But I’m still just Chris.”

Adrian considers it, tossing it around his head to make it fit somehow. Chris is his best friend. Peacemaker is his – is his too. His Chris. It’s all Chris. It’s not too much. “Well, if I’m calling you Chris, then I guess you kind of have to call me Adrian, otherwise it would be a weird dynamic. But!” he raises his face to look at Chris, finger raised, “Only when we’re, like, in the normal places and in civilian clothes and alone.”

“What about around the team?”

“No. It’ll mess with your headspace when we’re on missions. You get confused easily–”

“The fuck? No, I don’t!”

“–and you don’t know how to follow orders well. Yeah, you do, case in point, today . And I have to repeat stuff a million times to you. We still haven’t gone to stake out that new fishery that I told you about from–” and then Adrian is yelping again, because Chris is grabbing at his arms and tickling him. Adrian easily maneuvers himself out of Chris’ grasp, laughing, but then Chris is falling on top of him and Chris’ mouth is on his, shutting up his dying laughter. 

“Shut up, Adrian,” Chris breathes out, against his cheek, and Adrian, who gets confused easily but can follow orders very well, shuts up and kisses him.

When they’re done making out and dry humping on the couch and Adrian wonders if he has actually died and just forgot and ended up in heaven by some weird crunch of the numbers, his headache comes back to remind him that he’s still alive somehow. He takes another Tylenol and dozes off as Chris watches Repo Man and taps hm awake every half hour to make sure his brain is still working. It is. 

Chris wakes him up for the ending, and he looks from Emilio Estevez’ surprised face glowing neon green to Chris and tries to be subtle about it.

Notes:

i love em and i hope they're not extremely ooc.

Chapter 3

Summary:

So much fluff. Bad communication. Adrian has issues.

Adrian reads about it on Reddit, which is where he gathers most of his intel for crime-fighting. He does his due diligence, of course, by doing some extra non-social media research, like googling about it too (which takes him back to Reddit) and decides that he might as well give dating apps a try. 

Apparently a lot of crime happens there. Like, really bad crimes, mostly committed by dudes against women.

He briefly considers whether he would be justified and within legal rights to catfish as a woman if he joined one, then decides he can’t (what if he gets catfished, and then he can’t kill the catfishing guy or gal for their crime without seeming super hypocritical?), and figures he might as well just join a gay dating app and go after the guys who commit crimes against other guys. He knows Evergreen well, there are bound to be like at least five or so raging homophobes with nothing else to do lurking around in those apps looking to beat up a dude for going online to look for dick.

Adrian does some more research to make sure he can make his profile as normal as possible. Abs are a must – not a problem! – so he takes a picture of those. He is relieved to find that it’s normal to not really have face pics, but then he considers he might scare off the homophobes, who will think the reason he doesn’t want to show his face is because he is either a catfish or another murderous homophobe. So he decides to add one. He tries his best to smile in the employee bathroom – to make himself look small and friendly, which is hard, takes way longer than his lunch break will allow and has Matt the sous-chef threatening to key his car if he doesn’t unlock the bathroom door. Matt doesn’t key his car, which is good, because he really wouldn’t want to kill Matt for property damage. He’s trying to keep his normal work and his cool work separated.

Then the ab pic. He considers adding some kind of description, but struggles to write anything that doesn’t sound like he is out hunting for criminals – “Looking for a guy who is strong and loves fighting for his country!”. He wonders if Chris would ever join a dating app. He wouldn’t really need one ever.

He ends up leaving just the pictures and his initial, a big ‘A’ so he isn’t catfishing but he also isn’t giving anything away. After setting up his profile, he stares at his phone screen, waiting to see if he will get any matches. He doesn’t want to have to reach out to people first, though he did research for a whole night on how to best approach guys on dating apps. After fifteen minutes, he catches something. He does a little celebratory dance.

“Brad - 40 - no queens, no fats, no baldies” has sent him a dick pic and the message ‘wanna have a beer’.

Adrian grins, excited, feeling that little swell of bloodlust rise. 

He tries to keep it under control - maybe Brad is just a gay guy who hates fat and bald people (and queens, whatever that means) and is looking for a hookup. Adrian doesn’t want to have high expectations.

So he tries to be very casual and cool, and before he knows it he’s meeting Brad at a bar.

“You wear glasses,” Brad says when Adrian waves at him. Adrian’s picture had no glasses on. That had been strategic. He has heard his glasses called ‘serial killer frames’ by way too many co-workers and he isn’t looking to give serial killer vibes – other serial killers will feel threatened.

“Yeah,” he replies, “I need them to see.” 

Then he remembers himself and gives Brad a smile that’s supposed to look very soft and helpless. He sits down next to him by the bar counter. Brad sizes him up.

“You want a beer?” Brad asks.

“Yeah – and then we can just go to your place or something?”

“Oh. Okay.” Brad doesn’t sound very thrilled, which makes Adrian wonder if he’s even into men – maybe he is a serial killer. Or he’s just not into Adrian. Or he thinks Adrian might be a serial killer. It’s probably the glasses.

“You new in town?’ Brad asks.

“No,” Adrian replies. He has a cover story ready. “I’m a born-again gay. I used to be religious but now I’m over it.”

“Hadn’t heard of that before.”

“Are you religious?” Adrian prods.

“I’ve been to church.”

Adrian is running out of conversation topics. “Did you have a good time?’

“I don’t think you’re supposed to.”

“Yeah. I guess. That’s why I quit. And being gay and stuff.”

They get to Brad’s house with minimal conversation. It’s a large apartment, sparsely furnished (few places to hide a knife or gun), but the kitchen has a pretty ceramic counter. Brad offers him another beer, and Adrian can tell he’s a bit weirded out, but he keeps giving Adrian little once-overs. He doesn’t think he’s getting killed tonight. Adrian downs the beer in one gulp. He hasn’t actually touched another human being in, like, what, two years, with the exception of the girl who was selling meth at Fennel Fields that one time. He has a limited arsenal of tricks and he didn’t come in prepared to actually hook up with somebody.

“Well, do you want to do some dick sucking?” Adrian asks when he empties the beer and puts it down on the kitchen counter, a little breathless. 

“Eager,” Brad replies, quickly coming over to crowd him, and that gets Adrian going a bit. People don’t usually want to come close to him – in fact, they usually kind of step away, especially when he talks. But Brad is into him at that moment, surprisingly eager to get to his knees for Adrian first, even guides Adrian a bit when it’s his turn. He really likes it when he finds out Adrian is actually pretty buff under his cardigan. He gets kicked out the door as soon as the sex stuff is over, but he doesn’t mind – he didn’t really have anything else to do at Brad’s place. Overall, it’s a nice night. 

Adrian sticks to the app. 

He never finds any elusive serial killers, but he feels like he is doing his duty as informal guardian of the Evergreen gay community. 

“Harcourt says I’m supposed to stay awake for 24 hours but she thinks it’s probably fine by now,” Adrian says, leaning back against a couch cushion and reading out Harcourt’s text. A notification pops up from his Grindr profile at the same time. “She also says she’s not a doctor and to disregard anything she says. Now I’m confused. Do you think she means everything including the stuff about Sour Patch Kids? Also, would you be up for a threesome with a guy?”

Chris looks up at him from where he’s been dozing off on the other corner of the couch. He’s got some frown lines on his face, but Adrian assumes he hasn’t been listening. “Hold up, hold up, a what now?”

“Michael reached out to me – you know, Grindr Michael, that I’ve had sex with sometimes through Grindr” he clarifies when Chris still has that confused look on his face. “And since you like threesomes with girls I thought this would be a change of pace. With you exploring your sexuality and everything.”

“I dunno,” Chris says, but he still looks a bit confused. Adrian is the one who’s usually confused, so he’s confused by Chris’ confusion. “I– are you still hooking up with guys on Grindr?”

Adrian tilts his head. “What do you mean, ‘still’?”

“Since we–” now Chris is going a bit red in the face. Adrian stares at him until Chris manages to talk again. “Since we hooked up that first time, I mean.”

Adrian feels like maybe he put himself in a prickly situation. Of course he hasn’t hooked up with anyone else – why would he, when Chris is right there, wanting to touch him! 

But he also doesn’t want to scare Chris off by making it seem like he’s trying to be exclusive. Adrian is not trying to be anything that Chris doesn’t want him to be. In fact, he thinks suggesting a threesome is a definite sign of non-exclusiveness, even if he now kind of wishes he’d kept his mouth shut. 

He tries to play it safe by attacking all angles. “Oh, no. I mean, I could be,” he laughs, noncommittal, “I haven’t really checked it that much, because, you know, we’ve been busy. With work. And also with having sex. And nobody’s really reached out. But I mean, I am up to date on it. I’m still very much a member of the app. Not a paying member because, I don’t know, it seems a bit overkill. But I’m there. Why? Aren’t you there too?”

Chris still looks confused, maybe more so, and Adrian thinks he might have missed an angle. “You’re acting weird, man. It’s not a big deal if you are.”

“Well, I’m not,” Adrian assuages him quickly. “But I could be. But I’m not.”

“Jesus. I’m sorry I fucking asked,” Chris replies, lying back down.

But now Adrian is the one who wants to know, undeterred by Chris’ annoyed tone, feeling a spark of hope in the depths of his junkyard heart. He leans forward until he’s leaning over Chris’ stomach, pushing up his glasses as he gazes down at him. “Are you still on the app? Because I thought you were exploring your sexuality since Adebayo gave you all that great and emotionally intelligent advice?”

Chris rolls over onto his side, forcing Adrian to move back. “Haven’t really had time to use it,” he grumbles.

“Oh, ok.” Adrian feels a little guilty. Is he keeping Chris from exploring his sexuality? He seemed so intent on it the first time he mentioned it. “So would you want to have a threesome with Michael?”

“No, I fucking wouldn’t. If you want to fuck this Michael guy, you can do it by yourself.”

Adrian munches on his bottom lip, trying to think up alternative solutions rather than straight up asking the questions bouncing around his heart (‘Do you like me?’ ‘Do you think I’m pretty?’ ‘Would you have my children if I magically grew a womb?’). He leans over Chris again, lying sprawled over his side, an arm slung over Chris’ chest, ignoring Chris grumbling underneath him, because he’s learned that Chris acts less mean when they’re being touchy. 

“I don’t really want to. I just thought you could be interested. But nobody has to fuck Michael. Maybe it’s better if no one does.” Michael is pretty good-looking. What if Chris suddenly decides he likes him better than Adrian? Then Adrian will have no one to blame but himself.

Chris moves again, and Adrian sighs in annoyance, forced to lean back as Chris sits up with an old-man groan. “Wait, hold up. So you’re just not gonna see him anymore?”

Chris makes it sound like they are dating, which is a very funny concept. 

“Yeah, P, I only see him to have sex,” Adrian replies, laughing. “If I can have sex with you, I don’t need to see anyone ever again.” Well, that sounds a bit too exclusive. Fuck. Ok, it’s fine, he can fix it. “I mean, unless– unless you wanna–you know–other things too–including this! Or not!” Chris is staring at him, and Adrian feels his stomach drop. Great. He’s done it now.

“Why are you suggesting a threesome then?” Chris eyes him, all suspicious, but he’s tugging at Adrian’s waist so he doesn’t move away from him as he shifts onto his back again. Ok, maybe he hasn’t done it yet.

“I dunno, I got this message and thought maybe– if you’re also looking for more exploration– it would be nice to explore together instead of separately. So I can protect you in case anyone tries to kill you.”

“Why would your Grindr hookup try to kill me?”

“Not Michael specifically, because he’s like a radiologist or something, but maybe someone– you know– someone different. And I would just be like your buffer between you and them.”

“My buffer?”

“Yeah! So if they try to stab you, they’ll have to stab me first. And nobody can stab me. I have great evasion skills.”

“I’ve literally stabbed you that one time.”

“By accident!”

“How does that not count? And you got beat up with a pipe today .”

“It was an off day for me.”

Chris raises his eyebrows at him, then goes “Hm,” which is so unhelpful, but at least he doesn’t look as angry anymore. “Appreciate the gesture, but I don’t need a buffer.”

“Well, uh, then I’d say you can offer to be my buffer, but we both know you get hit way more than me and take, like, way longer to heal up.”

“Yeah well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I’m not offering to be your buffer.”

“Yeah, I really wouldn’t expect you to offer. You’re not very sacrificing.” Adrian doesn’t really know what he’s talking about anymore anyway. He wouldn’t let Peacemaker shield him anyway, not ever, because Vigilante would always shield him first.

“Jesus. Read the room, Vij,” Chris grumbles, pressing his face against his collarbone. Adrian can feel him huffing against him, not sure if it’s laughter or annoyance.

He knows what that expression means. His mom taught him. “I don’t know how to do that, P.”

Chris huffs out a clear laugh this time, and it echoes against Adrian’s ribcage. He presses his hands against Adrian’s waist, like testing out whether the skin would give or something. Adrian wishes it would, and Chris would be able to stick his hands inside his ribcage, warm them up around Adrian’s blood and never take them away. “Adrian,” he calls out tentatively, and Adrian feels that prickling anxiety at being called by his name. “Adrian fucking Chase.”

“Ok, now you’re kind of pushing it,” Adrian says, and Chris lifts up his head and grins and squeezes at his hip, near where his wound is, and when Adrian lets out a small groan, Chris pulls him forward and kisses him.

“Hey, Adrian. Think we can go 24 hours?” Chris asks.

“Yeah. Yeah.” He can hear the thump of his melting heart against his chest, his ears, his mouth.

 

Chris huffs out a laugh. “I’m too old for this shit, man. How’s that head doing?”

“It’s fine,” Adrian replies, even though it still hurts a little, especially with loud sounds, like grenade explosions. It’s the day after his supposed head injury, which was probably nothing anyway, and they’re exercising in the woods and testing out some homemade grenades Adrian cooked up and dropped off at Chris’ trailer the week before. They didn’t get a chance to test them with the whole ‘neo-nazis building new hideouts around the city’ and whatnot, but that was fine because Adrian got to kill a bunch of guys.

Chris looks up at him. “Yeah?”

Adrian beams a smile at him. Chris can’t see it, because he’s wearing his mask, to protect his identity, but he hopes he understands telepathically or something. “Tylenol please?” He opens his mouth wide, forgets he’s got the mask on for a sec. Chris mutters something, then throws him the pill box, which he’s got in his back pocket, and Adrian jumps up and catches it in a way he hopes looks cool. He pulls his mask up to his nose to toss two pills in. “Do you think you can overdose on this stuff?” he asks Chris, twirling the baseball bat he’s currently holding in his left hand.

“If you’re hella lame and a 100 years old, probably. Bottoms up!” he tosses Adrian a grenade, which Adrian bats away. They watch it bump against the ground and burst. Chris gives him a thumbs-up, and Adrian vibrates in excitement. The explosion makes the soles of his feet tingle.

“This reminds me of playing catch with my dad,” he says.

Chris’ face drops. “Way to kill the mood, dude.”

“What mood? We played one time when I was 9 and it was mostly nice and just a little boring. But he got irritated because I didn’t really get the point. And Gut was way better. It’s a lot more fun to do it with you though and with stuff that blows up.”

Chris smiles at him, but he’s got that frowny look. Adrian isn’t sure he said something wrong. “My dad never played catch with me. It was mostly just betting on me winning in the fight pits.”

“I guess all dads have their own hobbies,” Adrian says, carefully. The dad stuff, of course! He needs to think things through before talking, like Adebayo has taught him. But, like usual, he finds his mouth running before he can even take a deep breath. “Some activities probably a bit more illegal and immoral than others. I would’ve totally killed your dad then, dude, if I hadn’t been 5 years old. I think I could have given it a shot if my mom had let me start karate earlier.”

Chris makes a weird face as Adrian talks. “No, I don’t think that would have been fucking likely and. Maybe we can just not talk about that.”

“Karate or your dad?”

“My dad, Adrian.”

“Outside names, P!” Adrian says. Chris rolls his eyes, and Adrian gives him a pointed look that probably doesn’t translate from behind his mask. He kicks a rock over at him for good measure, but it just rolls a couple feet away from his legs. “So if we can talk about karate, can we talk about how we should start a Karate Club?”

“Two people is not a club.”

“There are no rules about that, I looked it up. And since we’re not registered or anything, there are literally no rules, except maybe like the semantics of what a club is. But we can just play it by ear.”

“Enough with the dad and the karate talk. Catch!” And Adrian bats another grenade onto a tree trunk far off, having to take a few steps back from the force of the swing of his bat. He cackles loudly, looks over at Chris, who’s also laughing.

“With your aim, how come you never made it into any sports team?” Chris asks. Adrian beams at him.

“Dude, I was getting bullied to shit in school! And you know I don’t really get the point of team sports, I’m better at mano a mano ” he says, twirling the bat in his hand. Chris scoffs, but he’s looking at him, like he’s really paying attention, and it makes Adrian a little drunkenly giddy and nervous, to have Chris’ focus fully on him.

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

“Sometimes I wish we could have gone to school together,” he babbles on, “even though you would’ve probably bullied me too, I mean– not your fault, I was a pretty easy target I guess.” Adrian stops to ponder it, bringing the bat to rest behind his shoulder. “But I think it would’ve been nice to see you every day, even if you gave me swirlies all the time.”

Chris frowns, palms lifted. “Hey, come on, I wouldn’t give you swirlies all the time. Maybe once in a while. If Gut and I had been there, we could have fucked up your bullies for you instead.”

Adrian shakes his finger at him. “Gut would’ve probably joined them.” He did join them, a few times, outside school hours, but Adrian doesn’t think Chris needs to know about that.

“Well… Ok, then maybe I would’ve joined Gut too. I dunno. I was kind of a piece of shit. I still am.”

“No, you’re not! Maybe you are a little bit cruel in your words and actions at times, but not in a significant way. I’m not bothered. And I wouldn’t have minded the swirlies, like, you know, better from you than from the other bullies.”

Chris chuckles. “The fuck, how would that make a difference?” 

Adrian shrugs, feeling bashful. “I dunno, I just trust you would do it more, like, gently or something.”

“Well, I wouldn’t fucking pull that shit now . If we were in school and you were all scrawny again. I would beat up those bullies for you.”

Adrian smiles. He likes imagined scenarios. “Yeah? Well, if we could do that, could we also be in the same year? I could teach you Maths so you wouldn’t flunk all your exams.”

“How do you know I flunked Maths?”

“You’re bad with numbers. You probably flunked English too, but I’m not that great at English, so we would probably have to get an Economos-type to help us with that. But we wouldn’t bully them. We’d just pay them for help with Twinkies and shit.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “It would be–” He looks away and kicks at a nearby piece of tin. “I think I would have been a better person, with you around.”

“How come? I’m not a good person.” Adrian knows he’s kind of a morally gray hero. He’s not Wonder Woman. He’s still trying to figure out a new killing ratio that Chris can feel comfortable working around and which will not get him kicked out of Harcourt’s squad.

“Yeah, you are. Maybe if I hadn’t been such a shit role model, things would have turned out better for you too.”

Adrian frowns. “I don’t get it,” he says, because it doesn’t make sense. Turned out better how? Chris is the best role model ever. Vigilante only exists because of Chris and Vigilante is the greatest and coolest thing Adrian has ever done (and will ever do, ever).

But rather than explain, Chris just shrugs, which makes Adrian want to groan. “Forget it. But, I mean, you’re a good friend. You’re the only person who’s ever stood up to my dad. To his face. That’s. Yeah. Maybe that would have been good to see, when I was a kid.”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to talk about your dad.”

“Yeah. Sorry. Forgot about that rule.” Chris wipes a hand against his face when Adrian mutters a confused ‘Ok’. He looks back at Adrian and chuckles. “You look so fucking stupid with just that mask on.”

“Safety first!”

“Let’s go back inside.”

“One more, come on!” Adrian calls out, hopping in place.

Chris huffs. “Ok, yeah, whatever.”

Maybe if I hadn’t been such a shit role model, things would have turned out better for you too.

Sometimes, ‘if’ sentences are very fun and sometimes they are Adrian’s least favorite thing ever. His mother had one she used all the time – “If only you could be normal like your brother”. And he had a hard time figuring out what she meant by that. He wasn’t Gut. He didn’t even have a younger brother to push around when his parents weren’t around. Which was a shame, because if he had been a Gut he wouldn’t have been an Adrian, and then he could have had his very own Chris Smith as his best friend and he would have been the happiest kid ever.

He has Chris Smith now – the Chris Smith, now his Chris Smith, still Guts’ Chris Smith, everyone’s Peacemaker, Vigilante’s partner Peacemaker, the hero Peacemaker. Chris. He will never ‘if’ anything for Chris. Not even for him to be a little nicer or scream less when he’s angry (Chris is working on that anyway – ever since his dad died, he hasn’t been screaming nearly as much which is different, at times alarming, but alright). He won’t even wish they could be the same age, not really. He likes Chris the way he is, the way his face moves and sags, the way his joints creak, the way his hair is still so dark and maybe it will grey one day and maybe Adrian will live to see it. Everything about him. He wouldn’t want to change him.

Adrian thinks things turned out pretty great for him all around – he never thought he would be the one lucky person among billions in the world (trillions in the universe!) that would get his dick sucked by Chris Smith on an almost daily basis. And he gets to fight crime and do cool shit all the time with a badass gang as a badass crime-fighting superhero? Things turned out pretty great for Adrian.

–things would have turned out better for you too.

Could things have turned out better for him? What things? What does Chris mean? Does Chris think things turned out bad for him?

Adrian ponders this during his shift at Fennel Fields, carelessly wiping the tables with a wet cloth before the dinner rush and carefully lining up the salt and pepper shakers with the napkin dispensers. He doesn’t have a glamorous existence, he knows that. He’s a busboy at an imitation Olive Garden with a 3.2 rating on Google. He shares a three-bedroom rundown apartment with two housemates (not that Chris knows that – yet). He doesn’t know how to do things the normal way, like fall in love, or maintain eye contact during conversations, or be like his brother. He’s been a loser for the past twenty-six years of his life. He’s been obsessed with the same boy for twenty-four of these years. He probably will be until he dies. Things turned out bad for him. For Adrian Chase. 

Of course, Adrian Chase knows this, everyone who knows Adrian Chase knows this. That’s why Chris wasn’t meant to know, was never meant to connect his best friend’s little brother with his mystery identity best friend. Not his Chris, not Vigilante’s Chris. But now he is Adrian’s Chris and it’s all a big jumbled mess, and if Chris starts to think about things – and Chris has been thinking about things so much lately! – then everything will crumble before Adrian’s eyes. All that effort, to be someone worthy of the person he loves. And it was only just him, and he was never worth anything the whole time. It was all pretend.

Adrian’s hand starts shaking, so he drops the dirty cloth on table 5 and holds it against his chest for a moment. He feels like he is caught in a roller coaster loop inside his brain. He grits his teeth, wills himself to stop the ride, get all the little people off – all the little rollercoaster passengers, who are actually just mind scorpions in disguise, and his giant mind fist squashes them one by one, until he feels himself going back to normal. It’s fine.

Chris knows who he is and Chris is still his best friend and also wants to have sex with him and fight crime with him. So maybe he shouldn’t think about anything else too deeply. “Follow your own advice, Adrian,” he mutters to himself. “Kill the mind scorpions,” he tells himself.

“Uh, Adrian, when you wrap up here, can you take out the trash?” Misty calls out behind him. She has a weird expression on her face. “It’s starting to smell.” 

Adrian nods and smiles professionally. “Yeah, just a sec!”

“Cool.”

After their conversation the other day, during Adrian’s concussion-not concussion, Chris called Adebayo. Then he came in and mentioned that Adrian could maybe delete his profile, if he wasn’t using it anyway, or like put it in sleep mode or something, and Adrian asked why, and Chris got all defensive about it and talked about how he doesn’t really get apps (“because you’re old”, Adrian supplied helpfully, which was probably the wrong thing to say, because it made Chris more defensive). Then an hour later Chris told Adrian to forget about deleting the app. Adrian said he would not, because he couldn’t just reset his memory, but that he didn’t mind either way. It was a weird way to end a fun sleepover/blowing things up day.

If Chris asks again, Adrian will delete the app, whatever. He can get some of these hook-up contacts’ phone numbers, maybe, and then when Chris tires of him at least he won’t have lost the whole stash. It would be kind of exhausting to start over. He might actually run into a gay serial killer this time and his heart is just not in it at the moment. Peacemaker can handle the app serial killers in the meantime.

Notes:

I am so sorry it took so long to update this and I am also sorry that it kind of got away from me and this is now going to need an extra chapter to be finalized. It might take a little bit of time, but I promise I will finalize it. End of 2024 has been a LOT like a LOT, but it was nice to go back to my boys, even if this story is all over the place, and it was nice to go back to Adrian and his non-existent self esteem. It's very comforting. I love him a lot.
Thanks for reading, if you did.

Chapter 4

Summary:

Chris and Adrian have a conversation.

The day Chris gets out of prison is the best day of Adrian’s life.

Well, he doesn’t know what day Chris gets out of prison per se because Chris doesn’t really reply to any of the hundreds of texts or voice messages from Vigilante to let him know, but the day Adrian finds out Chris got out of prison? Oh, yeah best day. 

Adrian thinks his stupid little heart might go into overdrive and burst all over his Fennel Fields uniform when he sees Chris sitting on one of the overly-lit booths, chatting with some random people and making Misty come barging into the kitchen to complain about another asshole being creepy out front. Adrian does his little butt dance, gets to flex his ever-improving lying muscles up a bit, dons his suit the next day and just like that – Peacemaker is back in his life. They banter and blow shit up! Even the threesomes are back! Sure, P is a bit different and kind of confusing at times, but it’s like watching someone get raised from the dead. He’s bound to be a bit fucked up from the transformation. That’s just how people function.

Things take a bit of an unexpected turn when Adrian’s identity gets revealed – Chris recognizes him right away even if he doesn’t really remember his name, which– ha! ouch! But whatever. It doesn’t change anything. They are still a crime-fighting duo and the best of best friends. Chris trusts Vigilante – he makes him part of his super secret special task force! Vigilante becomes friends with Chris’ work friends! They keep having threesomes! Their super awesome best bros dynamic stays intact and Chris still lets him hang around all the time, and he even tones down his shouting to, like, half of the usual amount. 

In a way it’s nice that he doesn’t have to wear a mask around Chris all the time. It gets stuffy in there. In a way it’s bad, because he hasn’t trained his facial muscles the way Chris does. Especially nowadays when Chris tends to look at him more directly, rather than with quick little glimpses from the corner of his eye. Chris looks at him a lot nowadays. Which is great! It is very nice to be perceived. That’s a normal human need!  But sometimes Adrian wishes he had his mask on. So Chris wouldn’t notice Adrian is looking at him all the time. 

Adrian loves being Chris’ best friend. He loves spinning around in Chris’ orbit. Ever since Chris came back and the world became fun and technicolor again, he feels like he exists all the time – not just some of the time, once a week, not fully real. Even without the mask on, Adrian is so real. There’s nothing he could wish for. This is the best it could ever be.

So, if late at night, he has dreams about Chris proposing to him and carrying him bridal-style into his trailer after Eagly officiates their wedding so they can live happily ever after as Mr. and Mr. Smith, well, that’s just how dreams work, and it’s totally legal and cool and free to make believe as much as you want. 

Adrian knows his place. He’s BFF numero uno . He’s not reaching for more than his allotted amount. He’s not greedy. He’s a chill and great best friend.

One day he might play best man when Chris marries the hottest and most badass chick in the world who will hopefully be cool with them blowing shit up in her yard. Adrian is good with that. He just wants Chris to be happy. And Chris deserves someone who can make him happy. Someone who can understand when he’s sad and not bring up bad topics at the wrong time and not embarrass him in front of his friends and be able to give him soft and comforting touches the normal way and not fuck up trying to kill his dad. And also be super hot.

Until then, Adrian gets to enjoy Chris and his new confusing feelings, like his desire to sleep with Adrian all the time.

“Chris, I think if you would just tell him–”

“No. No . You’re fucking nuts, Ade–”

“Then I just don’t know how else to help you because this is ridiculous!”

“Tell who what? What’s up? What’s ridiculous?” Adrian asks as he barges in, arms full of boxes of important work stuff – not cool work stuff, like blow torches and electric saws, more like notepads and highlighters. Which can also be cool when they come in a bunch of colors, but these are mostly just yellow.

He throws his foot against the door to push it open and keeps it propped there so Harcourt can follow in after him, carrying another pile of boxes so tall that it almost hides the top of her head. 

“Thanks,” she huffs out, then drops everything on the large table in the corner. “And watch the language, Smith.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What are you guys talking about?” Adrian asks, dropping his boxes next to Harcourt’s and taking off his mask. He puts on his glasses and hops over to the boxcutter, but Harcourt points her finger to the door with a very authoritative glare.

“Go get the rest of the load in the truck.”

“Ugh! Okay…” Now he’s going to have to put the mask back on or just do weird faces the whole way there. 

He looks over at Chris and Adebayo, who are currently sorting through some old shit in the hangout from back when Murn was alive and putting those things into boxes too. He wants to ask what’s ridiculous and what they are talking about and that they should probably not talk about things that are interesting or ridiculous without him around unless they are willing to recap everything to him afterwards. 

Chris notices him looking and gives him a half-grin. Adrian reciprocates with a full smile.

“Had a nice date?” Chris asks.

“No, it was super boring! Harcourt made me stay in the car while she shopped because I wanted to properly test the office supplies. Somebody should know the slashing capacity of the pointier pens.”

“Well, you did great in the car,” Harcourt says.

“Thanks!” Adrian beams at her, then immediately turns back to Chris. “What were you guys talking about?”

Chris immediately looks tense, even though he looked pretty ok a second before. “None of your business.”

Adebayo looks up at him from what looks like a string of Christmas tree ornaments. “Chris.”

“I mean, it’s nothing, man. Don’t worry about it. Good job with, uh, staying in the car.”

Adrian blinks at him, unsure. “Yeah, thanks,” he says. “Well, you can tell me whatever, P. Especially if it’s something I can help with!”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks, Adrian.”

“Unless it’s something we agreed not to talk about, like your dad or my dating apps.” 

It’s a new rule they came up with. Well, not a rule per se, but Chris did say he would feel better if Adrian just didn’t mention using his hook-up apps for a while.

Chris’ face turns a shade of red at that. “Yeah, got it, Vij, maybe you can go get the fucking boxes now.”

Beside him, Harcourt goes, “I’m sorry, what was that?”. 

“Forget it, ok,” Chris says quickly.

“What dating apps?”

“Forget it!” Chris barks out.

“Who is on dating apps?” Economos asks, coming out the door to the back room with a few folders under his arm.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Adrian hops over to the door, mask back on, to grab the rest of the boxes from the car. He doesn’t think any interesting conversations will happen now that everyone is there and Chris is being bitchy for no reason, so he takes his time sorting through them and piling them in weight order before carrying them back into the office. Nobody opens the door for him when he knocks at it with his foot, so he has to kick it open again. “Last batch, Harcourt!” he calls out. Nobody replies and he can’t quite see anyone because of the boxes, so he just makes his instinctive way to the table and drops them down carefully. “I hope there’s been no ridiculous convos while I was gone. Because you know you will have to recap it for me and I will need the full context too.” 

When he turns around, Harcourt and Economos are just staring at him, and Chris is looking at his hands in a way that makes Adrian want to go see if there’s something interesting or ridiculous going on there too.

“What’s up?” Adrian asks.

“So, just to be clear, this Vigilante?” Economos asks. Chris groans and puts a hand to his face. “There isn’t a big-boobed stripper downtown who also goes by the name Vigilante that you have been fucking for the past few months?”

“I cannot believe you two,” Harcourt says. She’s got her arms crossed, which is always a helpful indication that she’s pissed off. “This is just what we need now, isn’t it? It’s not enough having to scrub headquarters clean with zero extra personnel and refile all the shit we were left with from the butterflies, no, I also have to deal with the administrative and tactical nightmare that is you two fucking lovebirds hooking up in secret.”

Economos is cracking up at Harcourt’s speech. “Yeah, what happens when you two break up?”.

Chris rises in his chair so quickly the chair falls back. “Wow–wow–wow, I didn’t say–”

“Whaaaat are you guys talking?” Adrian asks, taking off his mask and putting his glasses back on. He’s not sure if he has stumbled into a serious or silly convo yet. But Chris looks red in the face like he’s almost in fight mode, and it makes Vij’s anxiety spike.

“I never said–Vij–” Chris goes on.

“Who’s breaking up with who?” he asks.

“ Nobody ,” Chris says. He looks over at Harcourt. “Nobody is doing anything to anyone, Harcourt.”

“Look, I don’t really care what you two wanna call it or what you do behind closed doors. I only care about how much it affects our work. Which it most certainly does.” She looks over at Vij, seems to pick up on the fact that he’s not picking up on anything and throws her hands up. “Vigilante! Your secret… relationship with Peacemaker is out in the open.”

“Oh. That.” Ok, so at least Adrian didn’t miss anything fun. This doesn’t even qualify as interesting. “Ok. Well, it’s not a relationship.”

“That’s what I’m trying to say,” Chris quickly adds.

“We just started having sex so Chris can experience his bissexual attraction to men. I’m a mildly attractive guy and also his best friend. This is just the basics of friendship. Any one of you would do the same thing.”

“Uh, no, I don’t think any one of us would do that for their friends,” Economos replies. “I would not fucking do that.”

“Then I guess you’re not a very good friend,” Adrian scoffs, crossing his arms.

Harcourt is doing that thing where she’s pressing her fingers on the bridge of her nose like it’s about to fly off. Adrian doesn’t know how he can make this any clearer. He looks up at Chris to make sure he’s said the right thing, but Chris is looking toward the ground with his lips pressed tight.

“Let me just make this clear then so we never have to talk about this again,” Harcourt says. “You two are having sex and this is just a normal part of your friendship dynamic?”

“Yep!” Adrian says. Adebayo is also looking at him. He suddenly feels like this is a test, and if Chris’ reaction is any indication, he is failing. “Friendship dynamic recently updated, ha! Because we are the best of friends. Unlike some people,” he glances pointedly over at Economos.

“And, just to be clear, Adrian,” Adebayo pipes in, “you’re doing all this for Chris’ sake? To help him out?”

Adrian looks at her. “Yeah, I’d do anything for my BFF!”

“There’s nothing you are getting out of this set up?”

“Can we just drop this shit?” Chris asks.

“Can you not fuck your co-workers?” Harcourt replies.

“Best friends and co-workers,” Adrian says. “Best friends first. And of course I’m getting things out of it, I’m still, like, a party to sex stuff. I’m having a bunch of sex.”

“Ok, now I think I’m going to puke,” Economos says.

“Oh, cool, now you’re being homophobic too!” Adrian says.

Chris rushes out the back door, loudly going ‘You know what, fuck you guys’. Adrian watches, confused, wondering if it was something he said. He really hopes Chris just had explosive diarrhea or something.

“Jesus Fucking Christ!” Harcourt exclaims, throwing her hands up. “This is exactly why you’re not supposed to hook up with your goddamn mission partner.”

Adrian doesn’t see how it’s fair that he and Chris are the only ones getting blamed. Now that Chris has left, he feels he needs to double down on his BFF’s behalf, despite still not being sure what the problem even is. 

“Everyone is just making a huge deal out of this. You made Peacemaker super uncomfortable!” he points an accusatory finger at Economos. “You know he doesn’t like talking about his sexuality. And I thought we were very explicitly told we are not supposed to discuss sexual conquests and adventures during work hours because that’s what everyone says to me and P whenever we wanted to talk about our really rad threesomes. So I really don’t see how this is our fault.” He crosses his arms, like Harcourt does to show how much he means it. “In fact, I think you’re all just jealous.”

Harcourt stares at him. “What?”

“Jealous of you…and Chris?” Economos clarifies.

“Well, yeah, because we have a fucking awesome friendship that you can only dream of! But mostly jealous of me, because let’s face it, you could all have had a chance– except maybe you, Adebayo, because of the lesbian thing, I think you’re more friend-jealous– but you’re all jealous that he’s experimenting on me and not having a Harcourt phase or an Economos phase, nu-uh. I’m getting to have best-friends-slash-co-worker sex with Peacemaker. Bet you didn’t think that was gonna happen.” Adrian smiles, tilts his head and points a thumb at himself. 

Adebayo, Harcourt and Economos all share glances with each other. “Friendship fucking dynamics, huh,” Economos says.

“Fuck me,” Harcourt says.

“What?” Adrian blinks at them, dropping his arms. “Don’t you all wish you could have sex with Peacemaker?”

Economos makes a retching noise. Adebayo gives him an eyebrows-raised look. Harcourt gives a different sort of baffled, frowny look and shakes her head.

“Well.” Adrian shrugs. “We all have different tastes. Some just more refined than others, clearly.”

Adebayo sighs. “Adrian, maybe you should go in there and talk to Chris.”

“Talk to Chris about what? About how none of you guys want to have sex with him?”

Adebayo sighs, loudly. “I don’t think Chris sees things the way you do. I don’t know what he told you, but that’s not what it sounds like from what he’s told me.”

“What did he tell you?”

“Maybe you should just ask him about it.”

“And maybe,” Harcourt adds, pressing a finger to her temple, “you should be quick about it because we are still in the middle of the hideout’s house cleaning. Goddamn it.”

Adrian isn’t sure he wants to be quick about it. He isn’t sure he wants to be anything about it at all. Things are so great. So great! But Chris is fickle and he caves under pressure. What if one measly little conversation brings their whole beautiful friends-with-benefits castle crumbling down forever?

“I don’t know guys,” he says, “what if he’s in there shitting?”.

“Vigilante, fucking go in there and talk to Peacemaker, that’s a fucking order,” Harcourt says.

“Aye, aye,” he replies, looking downcast.

When Adrian walks into the backroom, he expects to find Chris sitting by the piano or something, being in his feelings over whatever just happened in the room. Maybe they weren’t supposed to be found out and now Chris is feeling self-conscious over the whole thing. 

Or he’s – ding! ding! ding! – embarrassed to be found out. Either for hooking up with a man, since Chris still has all these hang-ups around being homophobic and shit, or for hooking up with, well, Adrian.

Adrian tries to go over the conversation as he looks around for Chris. “P?” He calls out. Maybe he should have denied everything. He doesn’t remember how the conversation went anymore, he was just excited to get in on the spoof, which wasn’t much spoof at all, but he didn’t know that initially! And he didn’t think it was a big deal! He thought clarifying things would be the best course of action because clarity is good and he wouldn’t want Chris to think he thought they were in a relationship, because, hah, that would be crazy– 

  Chris opens the door to the bathroom and looks surprised to find him there. “Vij?” 

Adrian lets out a sigh, hand to his chest. “Ah, thank goodness. I knew you were just having the shits.”

“What? No, I was just–washing my face.”

“Sure! No worries!”

Chris squints at him. “Were you waiting by the bathroom the whole time? Cause I told you a hundred times, man, that makes me uncomfortable.”

“No, I was just–I came in just now. I was looking for you.” Adrian isn’t sure what else to say. He doesn’t want Chris to think he wants to have a talk. Chris doesn’t like talks. Neither does Adrian. Talks are terrifying. “Nobody in the office wants to fuck you,” he says instead. “Except for me. I do, still.”

Chris blinks. “Uh. Ok. Were you guys… talking about that just now?”

“It came up spontaneously.”

Chris pauses for a second. “Even Harcourt?”

“It seems so, yeah.”

“Damn.” 

Adrian is about to add something to try to soften the blow and make Chris feel better, like mentioning how good he is at sex and how his biceps are the size of Adrian’s head and that’s probably the hottest thing Harcourt will never experience. 

“Ok, well, that’s weird, and, uh, fuck those guys,” Chris says. He shakes his head, “But also fuck that. Look, Vij, we need to talk.”

Adrian cringes. “Oh.” 

“Yeah,” Chris nods, like he also hates the idea.

“Was it… was it like something I said. Like what I said just now?”

“I mean. You said a lot of stupid shit just now. Like, literally, just now.”

“Oh.”

“But they were grilling you and I guess–it’s not–”

“Sorry–

“It's not anything you said wrong. I  just need to say something. And then I just need you to listen to what I say.”

“Ok, I guess,” Adrian says, and he tries to sound normal and chipper, but he can feel the strain on his voice, the worry like a rat gnawing inside his little shit heart, that this is it, this is the end of these beautiful, heavenly weeks of hooking up with Chris, and he just wants to drag the fantasy on a little longer. “I thought it could be diarrhea,” he adds, “Why you ran off. But I guess it was really something I said. I get it. I didn’t tell anyone about us having sex though. I don't know how they found out.”

“Dude,” Chris says. “I just said I need you to listen.”

“I’m trying to defend myself!”

“I’m not attacking you! You don’t even know what I’m going to say!”

“Well, you’re probably going to say you don’t want to hook up anymore because you’re embarrassed everyone found out about us hooking up and your ego is bruised and there wasn’t any diarrhea in the first place.”

Chris blinks at him, brow furrowed. “Adrian, I– Yeah, I don’t have diarrhea, man. I don’t know where you came up with that.”

“I knew it!”

He sighs, loudly. “Dude, just shut up. You don’t know what I’m going to say. Because I’m not embarrassed. I mean, a little, because that was fucking shit of them, but… I was the one who told everyone, just now. Except for Adebayo, she knew ages ago.”

“Oh.” Adrian tilts his head. “Wait, what?”

Chris sighs. “She basically played wingman for me.”

“Wingman how?”

“V, I’m not trying to– I do want to– I don’t know.” Chris shifts around, scratches at his ear. Adrian watches him, munching on his bottom lip. He feels lost, and his heart speeds up. He can’t believe he’s getting friends-with-benefits broken up with by Chris, or however Chris decides to phrase this. “This is fucking awkward and I’m too old for it and you’re too–but. I mean, do you want to go on a date maybe and see how it goes from there? And,” he adds, quickly, “we don’t tell the rest of the crew cause they’re a bunch of shitheads.”

It takes a second for Adrian to reboot. 

Chris gives him a look. “Adrian?”

He runs through Chris’ words a second time, then a third. He’s trying to find the part he misunderstood. The implication or whatever. “You want to go on a date?”

Chris nods. “Yeah.”

“With me?” He points at himself, for clarity.

“Yeah.” Chris huffs. “Is there any other fucking information that’s missing here?”

“I don’t know.” Adrian tries to place this piece of information into a slot of the puzzle that is Chris. A very good-looking puzzle, and at times he looks so complete that Adrian is pretty sure he’s got all the pieces stored in their perfect places and there’s nothing else to it, he’s got Peacemaker all figured out. And then something comes along to wreck his mind picture. Like finding out about Peacemaker’s traumatic feelings, or his bisexual stuff, or  all the crying and dad ghost talks–and now this.

“I don’t know?” Chris repeats, frowning. He crosses his arms, and in Adrian’s faulty knowledge of Peacemaker, it feels defensive. “I thought you would be a little bit more excited about this, to be honest.”

“Oh. Oh!” Adrian smiles. “Is this, like, an early birthday gift to me? Like you want to take me somewhere nice and fancy? Like Fennel Fields?”

“I was thinking somewhere where you don’t wait the tables.”

Adrian shrugs. “I don’t wait tables there anyway.”

“But no, it’s not a fucking birthday gift. I’m asking you out on a date. For real, Adrian.”

“Oh.” Adrian goes over the facts again. Nope, still not getting it. “Why?”

“I think we should, I don’t know, try to figure out what this is. This thing we have going on. Harcourt is right. I think we’re seeing things different ways.

Adrian frowns. “I don't need to figure it out. I know what it is.”

“Well, yeah, you said what you think it is, and your view was clearly way different than mine, so.”

“Ok, well, then why don’t you tell me what you think it is and we can compare, huh?”

Chris huffs and throws his hands up. “I don’t know what it is! I mean, it started out as one thing, like just messing around, and I think things changed for me – clearly, they haven’t changed for you – but I would like to I, don’t know, try to see where it goes or something. Like, if this could be something more than just friends messing around. Fuck, this sounds so fucking stupid. You know what, forget it.” Chris walks over to the piano and sits down with an angry little noise. He opens the lid, then closes it, and just stares straight.

Adrian can feel himself sweating under his undershirt, his heartbeat speeding up like a little hamster heart had been placed inside his chest. He wishes he was wearing his mask right now. Luckily he has been improving his facial expression control. He still feels his face moving around on his own. He doesn’t like this conversation at all. This might be worse than getting friends-with-benefits broken up. “Dude, yeah, I think we should forget it,” he hears himself say, in contained panic. “You’re talking crazy talk right now.”

Chris cranes his neck to look back to him. “What?” he barks out.

“You wanna go on a date with me? Do you know what you sound like? You wanna jeopardize the best friendship ever to go on a date with me because Harcourt got you worried about paperwork?” He throws his hands up. “There’s no friends-with-benefits paperwork! Trust me, Keith and Gina hook up all the time at Fennel Fields and our manager-slash-HR-person has never given a shit because there’s no admin paperwork for it!”

Chris looks even more frowny, and Adrian is making him lose his temper, but that’s probably better than whatever feelings Chris was trying to show before. “I’m not worried about the fucking paperwork, Adrian, I just want to go on a date with you.”

“But then why ?”

“Because I fucking like you! That’s why!” He bangs his hand against the piano keys, but the lid is on, so it’s just a whack against the wood.

Adrian shakes his head. “That’s crazy.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Do you not like me ? How is that so crazy?”

“Well, yeah,” Adrian chuckles, then cringes to himself, feeling caught red-handed, “I mean, of course I like you, like, in a friends-with-benefits way, like who wouldn’t–who doesn’t? You’re, like, the greatest and most badass guy ever and you’re my best friend–”

Chris gets up and walks over to Adrian, again, hands raised and voice lowered. “Dude, I’m not really–”

“–And you could totally have the hottest girls and guys ever, if you wanted. Like, you could even pull Wonder Woman, if you put in the effort. And you could totally get in with Harcourt, which I know you’ve been trying to do for months.”

“The fuck.” Chris glares at him, drops his hands. “Why are you trying to get me with Harcourt all of a sudden?”

“I’m not, I’m just trying to make you see how you don’t sound sensible right now! Like, talking about going on a date with me,” Adrian laughs out loud.

Chris looks lost for words for a second, which he does tend to look on occasion, and Adrian assumes he is getting through to him, and he smiles victoriously and nods his head.

“I don’t want to get with Wonder Woman,” Chris says finally. “Even though you’re right, I totally could. I wanna go out with you.”

“I don’t think,” Adrian squirms. The words sound so nice. But he needs to be strong. “I don’t think that’s sensible of you.”

“Vij, stop saying that. Why do you keep saying that?”

Adrian doesn’t like the way Chris’ voice sounds, but he trudges on, because he needs to wrap this conversation up as soon as possible. “You’re just so confused. It’ll be like using you, right? Like you’re all sad and confused and lonely because you killed your dad and you’re taking just anybody’s advice even when they’re not even like a best friend. I’m not a hot girl. I’m not even a hot guy. I’m pretty bad overall. Like really messed up. I’m not for dating. Let’s not mess with the best friendship ever. Ok, P?” He taps Chris on the shoulder for extra understanding. “Let’s not lose everything.”

“Shut up, dude,” Chris says, but he sounds sad rather than angry, which is exactly what Adrian is trying to convey, that Chris is sad and he doesn’t want to be Chris’ sad mistake. “We’re not gonna lose everything.”

“We will, cause it will blow everything up? And it will ruin everything and then I’m gonna lose you because I’m messed up.”

Chris groans. “I know you’re messed up, Adrian, I can see it right fucking now actually!”

“Yeah, but it’s different! There are different levels!”

“I’ve seen all the fucking levels!” Chris half-shouts, then lowers his voice. ”I’m messed up too, dude! I’m very aware of how fucked up everything is. And I’d like to do this even though I don’t think I deserve you. Because I like you and I don’t want to let that go.”

Adrian’s mind does a little jarring halt again. He doesn’t think he could be more confused. “Wait. You don’t think you deserve…me?”

“Yeah Adrian. I think you deserve way better than me. Like, you’re, you’re too good for me or something.”

“You think I deserve better than you?” Adrian laughs at the very notion. “Dude, where would I even find that? You think I'm too good for you?? Cause I think the opposite of that! Like, the opposite, which is the objective truth!”

“Dude, see, that’s exactly what I’m always talking about. You can’t fucking see shit clearly because you idealize me all the time.”

“I don't idealize you,” Adrian puts his hands on his hips. “I just think you're objectively the best person ever. How is that idealizing?”

“That’s the fucking definition of it, Adrian!”

“But I said, ‘objectively’!”

“You can’t fucking add ‘objectively’ to the fucking sentence, that’s not what makes something true. Just–you know, what.” Chris puts his hand up, like a stop sign. Adrian pouts at him. “Give me a second. You’re pissing me off.”

“Ok. Sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize.”

Adrian frowns, crossing his arms. “Ok. Apology retracted.”

“Ok, now I feel like you’re pissing me off on purpose.”

“Well, yeah, you’re being kind of bossy right now. Are you sure you think you like me?”

Chris is about to say something, but stops himself and just chuckles instead, in an exasperated way, but Adrian feels marginally better seeing him smile. “Yeah. Sorry, dude. Yeah, I do like you. I do think you’re too good for me. I don’t think I deserve you. I don’t think I deserve anyone, really, but I definitely don’t think I deserve you. And it’s not because I’m sad or lonely or confused, cause I’m not, except maybe sometimes. But I’m way less any of that when I’m around you.”

Adrian squirms at the words, looking away from Chris for once. They’re not correct. None of them are correct and Chris should know better, because Chris is Chris and he knows Adrian, and Vigilante, and this is just not right. “I’m just–”

“You’re great, Adrian. Fucking one of a kind. And you’re a smokeshow. I dont know why you imprinted on me and I fucked up the trajectory of your life–”

“No, you didn’t,” Adrian interjects. “You’ve made my life awesome.”

“And dangerous as fuck, Vij, you almost got blown up two weeks ago.”

“Ugh,” Adrian groans, letting his head droop to the side. “Are you still on about that?”

“Yeah, cause you don’t seem to care.”

“I don’t, really,” Adrian shrugs. “You’re my favorite thing about life, P. If I die tomorrow, I don’t care. Especially if I'm getting blown up or something.”

“Adrian.”

“But I'm not getting killed! Not even blown up. Because we’re a great team, and I'm very careful.”

Chris raises an eyebrow. “I think we’ve both learned that’s not true during that last mission.”

“Yeah, whatever, the point is, I don’t care if I die tomorrow or the day after and you shouldnt care either, cause if I die, I’ll be having the best day ever, like every day we hang out.”

Chris frowns, his lips going downward. “Dude.”

“Except I mean, today is like maybe the, I dunno, 15th best day ever. I’d say the ranking starts with the day you told me Eagly was my nephew unofficially and the butterfly killing day and the day we set up the 11th street kids squad and the first day we had a threesome ever.”

Chris sighs. “I feel like we’re getting super off-topic…”

Adrian shrugs. He thinks this is perfectly acceptable. In fact, much safer. “I think this is also a very nice topic.”

Chris, unfortunately, doesn’t seem to think so. “Look, I just – So the day I'm asking you out on a date is actually after the Eagly thing for you?”

“Well, the Eagly day was really important for me. it felt really definite. Like, dating is super flakey. We can break up literally after the first date.”

Chris shakes his head. “I dont fucking wanna do that.”

“Yeah, me neither, I wanna date you forever,” Adrian replies easily enough, because it’s easy to agree before his brain has time to think the words through.

Chris stares at him. “Wait, you do?”

 Adrian looks embarrassed, guilty in a non-criminal way, like that time he told Chris he calls him by his name inside his head. “ Until today I assumed everyone did! ”

“Well, then let's do that instead! No?”

“I guess,” he says, uncertainly.

“Does that make the day better?”

Adrian taps his fingers “Still a bit too flakey.”

Chris groans, pressing a hand to his head. “I feel like I’m in fucking high school right now.”

“Oh!” Adrian hops in place, grabbing that hook. “Remember our chat about high school the other day? That was a really nice time. That was another best day before you had one of your ‘feelings’ meltdowns.”

“Stop getting away from the point, Adrian,” Chris says, accusingly, “you’re being so fucking slippery.”

“I’m not, I’m just reminiscing! Can’t I reminisce?”

“No, you can’t, you’re acting weird.”

“I am weird! I’m uncomfortable!

“That I want to date you!” Chris’ voice cracks at the last two words, like he is in high school, and Adrian feels like he’s a teenager too, exposed, exposing Chris, hurting someone without knowing how, or why, or how to stop. Well, he knows how to stop. He can give Chris what he wants. But– Adrian has a self-defence mechanism. Adrian doesn’t want to get hurt.

“Yeah,” Adrian says, uncertain. “Maybe if I put my mask back on, this will feel less weird. Cause then it’s like you’re asking Vigilante out on a date and it feels like a natural progression of your homoerotic partners in crime dynamic.”

“I'm not asking Vigilante out on a date. I mean, I am, but I’m asking you. Adrian. Vij. Come on. Remember Batman.”

Adrian pouts, looks down at his uniform, the comforting black-and-teal. “Yeah, ok, sorry. We don’t wanna be Batman.”

Chris wiggles his eyebrows at him. “You wanna be my boyfriend?”

Adrian squirms again, looks up at Chris, looks away. ‘Ugh, sorry. Still uncomfortable.”

Chris’ mouth tenses and he gives Adrian a look that feels like exasperation and disappointment. It’s not a look Adrian likes. 

“Are you sure-sure?” Adrian asks. He wants Chris to know he wants to date him more than anything, as Adrian and Vigilante or whoever, but he also wants Chris more than anything, and it’s hard to think the two desires are not mutually exclusive. “I know you said forever, but you just say things sometimes. You used to say stuff to chicks during threesome all the time, and, like, I don't wanna jinx it for myself. I just don't wanna be all happy and I don't want this to be like top three best days ever just for me to find out it was a fluke and you had sex brain on or something and you think I’m bad at boyfriend-ing. Because you change your mind a lot. And I don’t think I’d… like that.”

“Adrian,” Chris says softly, or as softly as he can go, which is just like a normal tone of voice for most people, “I'm not gonna change my mind. You’re not a chick I’m having a one-night stand with. I’m not even having sex with you right now. I don’t have sex brain on.”

“Yeah, ok.”

Chris watches him, eyebrow quirked up. When Chris is looking at him, it’s like he can’t look at Chris directly, like an eclipse, and his eyeballs are gonna burn down in their sockets. But he does, because Chris is clearly waiting for him to, because Adrian wants to.

Something in Chris relaxes. He smiles, a knowing kind of smile, like he figured out his own puzzle. It looks very handsome. “Adrian, I like you.”

Adrian tilts his head. He squirms again, but it’s more of a good squirm, a frisson-y squirm. Those are probably top best words ever. If he were to allow himself a moment to enjoy any of this rather than stress over the possibilities of their friendship imploding, he would probably add all of Chris’ words in the last few minutes to his list of favorite words. Even the shouty ones. 

“Yeah?”

Chris nods. “A lot.”

“Like a boyfriend amount?”

“Like more than boyfriend amount,” Chris replies. “A weird amount.”

“What’s more than boyfriend?”

Chris considers that. “I don't know. We can think about that later.” He reaches out a hand, taps at Vij’s arm, over the armor. “But, like, I don't know, take your time. I don't wanna pressure you. Adebayo says I literally pressure you to do everything, apparently, even though I told her you are always game for any bullshit. But I guess she was right, and this is a pretty good example.”

“Don’t talk about this with Adebayo!”

“I won't. Ok, I probably will, a little bit.”

“Ugh!” Adrian isn’t even surprised.

“But just, I don’t know,” Chris waves his hands around, takes a step back, “take your time, process it, whatever it is you gotta do. You don’t have to answer me right now. You can think about it. I just want you to know I– that I mean it. Everything I said. And that whatever you decide, we’re still partners. We’re good.”

Adrian considers that. The ‘implication’, as his mother would say, but he never got the implication of anything. This seems clear-cut enough. More an explication than anything. Chris being into him. It scares him. Chris will figure out– the levels–why he’s all alone– there’s a reason for that, when someone is all alone, when someone has to come up with a secret identity just to not be alone, and the reason is that there’s something wrong with that someone, something desperately wrong, that other people can sense from a distance, even brothers, even parents.

And yet – Chris knows the levels. Most of the levels. And Chris still wants him. Wants him a boyfriend amount (or more). 

And Adrian wants Chris, any amount he can have, all the amounts if able.

Adrian shakes his head. “I don't have to think about it. I do wanna date you. For like, forever,” he says the words easily enough. They’ve been screeching to come out of him for as long as he knows Chris. They slip right out. “So I guess I wanna be your boyfriend,” he concludes. Chris perks up. ”I’m just scared that this might go away with one of your phases. Like the men phase? Remember the men phase you mentioned to me? The one you’re in right now?”

Chris grins. “It wasn’t a men phase, it was just me being into you.”

“… That’s really not how you explained it to me,” Adrian says, finally.

“Yeah, well, I was lying.”

“Dude!” Adrian whines. “You have to stop lying! If you're gonna be my boyfriend!”

 “I was in denial– I– I’m sorry! I’m gonna try. I’ll lie less.” Chris tries to turn his expression into a sort of sheepish look, and it kind of works to make Adrian forgive him immediately.

Adrian wiggles his finger at him. His heart’s not in it, but he likes it that Chris is apologizing. He likes all that’s happening. “You’ll lie none .”

“Ok. We’ll see.”

“Ok!” Adrian smiles. He refrains from doing his butt dance. He can do that later.

Chris grins. “So can I call you Adrian in front of the team now?”

“Yeah! You already do it and I hardly ever call you out on it.”

“Oh. Ok. Well, then can I kiss you in front of the team now?”

“Yeah!” Adrian smiles. “That’ll make everybody super uncomfortable!”

“Yeah, dude–” Chris’ barks out a laugh, and Adrian smiles wider. ”it’ll be hilarious. And also kind of nice to not sneak around.”

“I didn’t even know we were sneaking! But I will miss it.”

“And you don't have to be on Grindr anymore. If you’re cool with that. We could be, like, just us.”

Adrian laughs. Chris’ obsession with the dating apps thing is still a mystery. But it doesn’t matter, cause Chris is his boyfriend. “Yeah! I dont give a shit about that!”

“I mean, unless you wanna, like, invite a guy for a threesome. I'd be down for that.”

“Oh yeah, me too, that’d be super hot. I think seeing you fuck a dude is actually one of my fantasies.”

“I’ll do it for you, man. I mean, uh, boyfriend.” He makes an unsure face. “Bro.”

Adrian’s cheeks hurt from all the smiling, but he isn’t sure if he can make them stop. Stupid face muscles. Or not. He loves Chris’ face muscles. He doesn’t even think his own face muscles are stupid, if Chris likes them. His brain is screeching, but he tries to ignore that. He tries to ignore the brain part that is screeching ominously that this is a mistake. He basks in the image of Chris looking happy. Because of him! Adrian and Adrian’s words and Adrian’s face muscles! 

“Ok, kinda top-five-best-days-ever feeling,” he says. “I’m getting that now.”

Chris smiles wide, pulls him close with a hand to his waist. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Adrian goes over the days again, to make sure he is not missing anything. “Oh, I forgot!”

“What?”

“The day I found out you got out of prison, even though you were supposed to be locked up for four life sentences. That was actually the best day ever. Hands down.”

Chris’ smile kind of fades and his mouth slacks. His eyes brighten a bit. “Huh.”

Adrian frowns. “Wait, are you crying?”

“No. I mean–Fuck. A little bit. Shit, this lying thing is going to be really hard.”

“That’s cool, bro, you can cry whenever!” Adrian says hurriedly, awkwardly patting Chris’ shoulder for comfort. He wants to bring back Chris’ smile, but he knows crying is important for emotional balance and all that shit. “Can I kiss you though?”

Chris laughs. “Fuck yeah.” 

Chris lunges forward and kisses Adrian instead before he can even move. It feels perfect. The ominous screeching stops. For the moment.

When they get back to the main office, everyone immediately goes silent. Chris tells everyone to fuck off again, except for Adrian, who is now his boyfriend. When they start piling up the boxes, Chris pulls Adrian behind a stack and kisses him on the mouth. Nobody notices, except for Harcourt, who sighs loudly and shakes her head. But Adrian thinks it’s a supportive head-shake.

“Where do you wanna go for our first date?” Chris asks him. Adrian doesn’t really care. He thinks if Chris took him to Arkham Asylum for a first date it would probably still be super awesome (well, it would actually most definitely be super awesome because then Adrian could fight super-villain people with Chris). 

But he knows Chris cares about these things, so Adrian thinks it over for half a second.

“Fennel Fields?” he suggests.

Chris frowns. “Dude, there’s gotta be other restaurants.”

“We could go to Domino’s?”

“Ok, you’re not picking anything.”

“Would you guys be open to a double date?” Adebayo asks, leaning over the pile of boxes they are currently hiding behind. “Keeya has been dying to meet Adrian.”

“Don’t hijack our first date, Ades.”

“Just saying.”

“Yeah, that can be our second date,” Adrian smiles at Chris. Chris nods at him.

“We can do a Gotham trip.” Adebayo gives Chris a look. Adrian looks at him as well, immediately onboard with the idea.

“Oh my God, I’ve always wanted to visit Gotham! Did you know they have the highest ratio of criminals to non-criminals in the country? Unless you count the Greater Gotham area. It’s more suburban. But we can stick to the center, where all the criminals are being evil.” Adrian smiles at the thought of a city so full of crime.

Chris frowns at him. “Dude, if we go to Gotham, you can’t run around killing criminals. That will totally ruin the trip for us.”

Adrian’s face falls. “But then that will ruin the trip for me.”

Chris thinks about it. “You can maybe catch a couple of criminals. But no killing!”

“I feel like that…” Adrian points out, “would be very Batman behavior. I think we need to work on the Batman analogy. Because it’s starting to get a bit convoluted. Like what would…Batman not do?”

“I feel like the Batman conversation has really gone as far as it can go, to be honest,” Chris says.

“Yeah, what’s your obsession with that guy?” Adebayo asks.

“Oh!” Adrian lifts a hand. “We can try to catch the Batman! He’s kind of a criminal too. He does some shady things!”

“Ok, Adrian, I’m not taking you to Gotham,” Adebayo says - even though Chris looked like he was considering it maybe.

“I didn’t say I’m gonna kill him! I wouldn’t,” Adrian clarifies. “Unless he fought back and my life was clearly in danger. Or P’s life was in mild danger.”

“I think Batman would probably knock you out,” Chris says. “No offence.”

“What? No! How come?”

“He’s got all those high-tech stupid bat gadgets.”

“I could get some high-tec gadgets. We could bring the flamethrower.”

“Guys!” Harcourt shouts from somewhere on the corner. “You can plan out your fucking honeymoon later! Now shut up and get back to work!” Adebayo quickly skitters away with a giggle.

Chris’ cheeks go kind of red, and Adrian watches him unashamedly, because he assumes he can now, since Chris is his boyfriend. Chris turns to him. “What?” he asks.

Adrian smiles. “Nothing. I just like looking at you, Chris.”

Chris laughs, tugs him by the shoulder to pull him close. "Yeah, Adrian. I've noticed."

Notes:

This took me so long to cook up, I apologize! I just can't make these two yappers stop yapping when I start writing a scene. It's a curse!

Anyway, I'm not the happiest with my ending but I'm happy to end it finally and that they've reached a kind of messy understanding and happiness. I'd like to thank my vigilante playlist for keeping me motivated to write this story (and all of you who were lovely enough to comment and kudos-me, thank you!).

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Trigger of love