Chapter Text
Chris woke up as Eagly pecked at his toes, demanding to be let out. He checked the time on his phone - the numbers on the screen told him he overslept, but his entire body claimed otherwise. He noticed a voicemail from Vig, so he listened to it as he opened the door. He could tell that dude was grinning like a maniac while saying all of it.
Hey, P.! Are you up yet? Please get up soon. I found an old house being cleaned out, and guess what? SCORE! So. Many. Appliances. [a deep inhale] Dude, there is A FRIDGE. We have to go blow shit up later today! Ok, bye! [a pause] I'll pick up snacks for Eagly if you come? Alright, bye for real now.
Well, it sounded like a plan. Not that he had anything else waiting for him today - somehow no one was trying to take over and/or destroy the world this weekend. And Eagly wouldn't turn his beak up on snacks. He typed a reply.
Sounds good. Pick me up at 3 pm?
What Vig texted back in less than five seconds was just an indecipherable string of emojis. It could have meant "yes". It could have meant he sneezed while texting. There was no follow up, so Chris settled on the "yes" option.
Later that afternoon, it turned out Vig was not exaggerating - there was a righteous amount of trash waiting for them. Vig waved him off with faux modesty when he pointed that out.
"Come on, it's nothing compared to the four years' worth of appliances we had last time."
Technically, Chris already knew that tidbit of information, but it was only now that it gave him a pause.
"Wait, you were serious about saving them up ever since I was arrested?"
"Yup. I think I brought the first couple of things here a week after."
Chris couldn't stop himself from trying to figure out if Vig was joking, even though - in all likelihood - he wasn't.
"Dude, I got a thirty years sentence. That's like, life."
Vig shrugged.
"I know, but I figured, you will find the way to get out of there eventually," he said. He cocked his head a little, and Chris could sense the shit-eating grin behind the mask. "And if not, can you imagine how awesome it would be to blow up thirty years' worth of appliances?"
Chris didn't know what to say to that. Are you serious? was a useless question. Do you even realize how much time that is? It's about as long as you've been alive so far. You'd be almost in your sixties by then. What the fuck.
"Well, I'd rather be out," he said instead.
"I prefer it that way too." The smile in Vig's voice was audible. "I guess I was just trying to find a silver lining."
True to his word, Vig brought snacks, both for Eagly and for them. Right now he was throwing pieces of jerky up in the air for Eagly to dive in and swoop them up mid-flight. He was cheering delightedly at Eagly's every success, like an overbearing parent at the Little League's match.
Chris hadn't even noticed yet the small grin pulling at the corners of his mouth as he watched them. Vig was just so good with Eagly. It occurred to him he could have asked Vig to take care of the bird while he was in prison. He would do that for Chris, no doubt. Unlike his father, Vig would feed him snacks, take him hunting, and would play with him in the forest, just like now. Chris cringed internally as he remembered that the first time he truly felt guilt for leaving Eagly in the questionable care of his dad, the only better option he could think of was a hypothetical ugly chick. All he could think of now was how Vig, despite being neither ugly nor a chick, was ready to wait a lifetime just to hang out with Chris again. He shook off the treacherous warmth sneaking around in his chest and forced back the smile. They had shit to destroy. It would help.
On top of the kitchen appliances, a week or two earlier they got an old, broken down car, and left it here waiting for some company, 'cause of course it's no fun to just explode a car and then not follow up with anything else. Everyone knows that. It was shaping up to be a really good day, at least until that point.
They were running from the explosion, hooting and hollering like kids on a waterslide. For a good moment Chris didn't realize he was holding Vig's hand. He noticed Vig was looking down at something, looked down as well, saw their hands clasped together, looked back up at his masked up buddy whose visor was still pointing down. And then he dropped the hand he was holding like a hot potato.
They stared at each other for a moment in silence, after which, in the worst display of his inability to read the room ever, Vigilante reached down and held his hand again. Chris could imagine him smiling sheepishly under that mask.
Chris shook him off much more forcefully than he needed.
"Dude, what the hell," he said, very much aware that it was him who started the whole thing.
There was a beat of silence.
"I thought we were holding... hands?" Vig said, sounding a bit unsure.
Well, wasn't that just like him. Always assuming the most outlandish option was the correct one.
"No, we're not! Why would we ever?" Chris asked, despite having a pretty good idea as to why.
Vig held his hands up placatingly.
"It's okay, P. It's totally fine for BFFs to hold hands," he said with perfect confidence.
BFFs, right. If only it was as simple as Vig being silly. But Chris wasn't stupid and he wasn't blind, and deep down he knew that whatever Vig had going on was far beyond any BFF stuff Chris could think of. And it had to go on unacknowledged by Chris if he was to get his shit together and turn his life around. His father was gone (sort of), he had a team who trusted him (also sort of), he would finally stop killing people left and right (hopefully). He could be a real superhero, someone people looked up to. Someone worthy of the competent, cool, badass smokeshow that was Emilia Harcourt. He had a once-in-a-lifetime chance to escape the shit creek he was paddling up for as long as he could remember, and in that future there just wasn't a place for a socially incompetent homicidal maniac. Or for him to sappily gaze at said maniac playing with Eagly. Or accidentally holding his hand and thinking that maybe, maybe, it would be nice if the gloves were not in the way. Wait, did he really think that?
"No, it's not," said Chris. This was becoming more and more ridiculous and needed to be cut short as soon as possible.
Eagly doesn't even like her. A thought popped up in his head uninvited. And she doesn't like Eagly. Why the fuck is he thinking about this now, exactly? What did it matter? She barely started to like Chris, but that's okay because Chris had decades of experience being with people who didn't particularly like him. He could deal with that. If he worked hard and persevered, she would find something in him that made him worth it for her. What Chris had absolutely no idea how to deal with was being genuinely, unconditionally loved. But how was he supposed to admit that, even just to himself?
Vig laughed. Another thing Chris wasn't about to admit was that he actually liked his dorky laughter.
"Pfft, yeah! Are you trying to tell me all the children's media I consumed lied to me?"
Chris threw up his hands in exasperation. How do you even talk to this lunatic?
Right, because how was he supposed to talk to this confusingly hot dumbass who mostly lived inside his own head, didn't understand why killing people for misdemeanors was a bad idea, but was always kind to Chris and ready to risk literally everything at the drop of a hat for his sake?
"We are not children, V.!" He stressed every word of that, and boy, didn't he know it.
Vig let out a little impatient huff.
"I really don't see why you're so uptight about it," he said, a hint of a complaint in his tone. "You touched me in plenty of other places before and it was fine."
Of course he did. And a lot of those times he deliberately made it look like a mix-up, like it wasn't on purpose and actually, he never really even noticed it was Vig's shoulder he kissed or ass he squeezed. He wasn't about to tell him that, just as he wasn't about to tell him how easy it was for him to come if he only closed his eyes while jerking off and imagined Vig's stupid, perky ass under him, and Vig's stupid, freckled shoulder against his mouth. Fuck! Seriously? This is what you're thinking about right now?
"It was in a different context, and probably also an accident," he lied, trying to cover it up with irritation. Not that he needed any cover. Vig was gullible as mittens when it came to believing stuff Chris said. "And it's not important, what's important is that you need to stop being so creepy around me, dude."
"Bro, I'm not being creepy! Wait, am I?"
Chris didn't like himself particularly for saying that to Vig, especially once he saw him completely deflate at Chris' words.
"Sorry, I didn't know that," Vig said, sounding resigned. Chris didn't need his x-ray vision helmet to be sure that the little guilty wince was there under Vig's mask.
"Look, I know you don't know, I just- I don't want to give people ideas about us," he said. He was on a roll now, since Vig accepted it was his fault without question, and Chris tried his hardest not to think about how much of an asshole he was being to Vig at the moment. "Threesomes are fine and all, but I have a good thing going on right now - a team, a job that keeps me out of prison, maybe a chance to get together with Harcourt-" He caught himself looking for any visible reaction from Vig at those last words, but there was none. Wait, now you want him to care about that? "I can't let all this," he gestured vaguely around Vig, "drag me down, okay?"
Vig stood there quietly for a moment.
"Okay," he said eventually, his voice flat and neutral. "I will try not to."
Fuck.
"Who'd've predicted, a faggot and a coward!" Auggie Smith was leaning back against the nearest tree, with his arms crossed and a nasty smirk on his face.
Chris went rigid, and scowled at the ghost. Or a hallucination. Whatever.
"Shut up!" he hissed under his breath.
"I didn't say anything," said Vig defensively.
Chris didn't want to double down on being an asshole, but there was no way in hell he was going to tell Vig about this. There was rock bottom, and then there was hanging out with Vigilante while feeling it's him who's less weird out of the two of you. In the end he didn't do anything to help with Vig's obvious confusion.
He just shrugged.
"Uhh, soo... there is a fridge to blow up!" Vig offered after a prolonged, awkward silence. "I already rigged the explosives, and it doesn't have freon inside, so it's totally safe to-" He made an exaggerated gesture indicating boom as he rambled.
"Nah, I'm good," said Chris, turning away. He just wasn't in the mood anymore. "I'm gonna head back."
He noticed Vig started immediately trailing after him.
"Why are you following me? I told you to stop being creepy!"
"Dude!" Vig threw his arms up in exasperation. "I drove you here!"
Shit.
***
Vig changed into his civvies before driving out, as always carefully putting away parts of his uniform. Chris reluctantly noticed he liked what the chest piece and pauldrons were doing for his shoulders.
As they drove, what previously didn't even register for Chris, now was an extremely unfortunate CD to be left in the car's player.
Come on, come on, come on, love is all over me
Seemingly oblivious, Adrian was lightly rocking out to the song, beating out the rhythm on the steering wheel with his fingers and mouthing the lyrics.
You are the only one, living in my fantasy, in my dreams
Suddenly feeling self-conscious as hell, Chris quickly reached and turned off the radio.
Adrian shot him a disappointed look.
"Wrong time?" he asked.
"Something like that," said Chris, looking away.
In the back seat of the old Sebring his dead father cackled like a wicked witch.