Chapter Text
Chris slouches his way into HQ. He doesn’t know why they need to have a meeting at 9 am on a Saturday. Just because of some “emergency” that’s “time-sensitive” and “immediate.” Whatever. He doesn’t see how anything could be that time-sensitive. They didn’t even have Saturday morning meetings during a fucking alien invasion.
“Good, you’re finally here,” Harcourt says pointedly. Chris is the last one inside. He grunts.
“Dude, I said I’d pick you up,” Adrian says. “Then you would’ve been on time.”
“I am on time,” Chris says.
“You are ten minutes late,” Adebayo points out.
“That doesn’t count,” Chris protests. “Anything under half an hour is on time.”
“You have a fascinating idea of time,” Economos says. Chris flips him off.
“Would you sit down and shut up?” Harcourt asks. “We’ve got a fucking terrorist attack on deck.”
Chris groans. Everything’s always so goddamn life or death these days. He misses taking down losers like Kite Man. That was a lot less stressful.
Economos fires up a PowerPoint. Chris is going to make a hilarious joke about Economos’s love of PowerPoints—he’s not sure what the joke is yet, but he’s sure once he opens his mouth something will come to him—when Economos flips to a slide that’s a big picture of Auggie. Chris can’t help sucking in a sharp breath.
“Shit, sorry,” Economos says. “I thought I took that out.”
“Well, it’s fitting,” Harcourt says grimly. “It’s whoever’s left of his followers planning the attack.”
“Where?” Chris asks.
“We’re not sure yet,” Harcourt says. “We know they have a new base of operations. You’ll never believe where.”
“My dad’s house?” Chris guesses. Auggie certainly didn’t leave it to Chris. And who even knew he had a will?
“Nope,” Economos says. He clicks to the next slide. It’s a picture of some real estate brochure. A new subdivision full of cookie-cutter houses that all look exactly the same and cost more than Chris will ever make in a lifetime, unless superhero shit gets a significant raise. He already got a raise joining this task force, because he started getting paid at all.
“Wait, seriously?” Adebayo asks. “How’d those motherfuckers get enough cash together for one of these houses?”
“The real estate agent selling them is what you might call a believer,” Harcourt says. “She ponied up the cash for the one they’re using as a safehouse.”
“Okay,” Chris says. “So we go in and smash the place?”
“No,” Harcourt starts.
“Ooh, another sniper thing?” Adrian asks hopefully.
“No,” Harcourt repeats. “We—”
“Bomb?” Adrian asks.
“Arson?” Chris suggests. Adrian nods eagerly.
“No,” Harcourt says. “Shut up and listen! We can’t just go in and take them out, as much fun as that would be. We have to have evidence that’ll hold up in court. And we are leaving at least one alive so the feds can question them about ties to other groups. The attack is going to be next week sometime, as far as the intel goes. We’re going to send two of us in undercover to bait them into diverting their attention to us. Then the rest of us will get into their safehouse to get evidence.”
“Undercover?” Adebayo says. “Now we’re spies?”
Harcourt shrugs. “We’re a task force,” she points out.
“Okay,” Chris says. “So what’s my cover?”
Harcourt gives him a look like he’s stupid. “You think your dad’s followers don’t know who you are?”
Oh. Right. “Well, don’t we have spy disguises now?” Chris asks.
“No,” Harcourt says. “You’re not going in. They know you. Adebayo would obviously be like catnip to them, but she can’t go in, because she did that press conference and splashed her face all over the news.”
“Oops, oh no, how awful,” Adebayo says unrepentantly.
“So you and Economos?” Chris asks. He looks at Economos. “Wow, good for you, Economos. Even fake action with Harcourt is out of your league.” Economos flips him off with both hands.
“A straight, white couple doesn’t exactly bait them,” Harcourt points out. “I’m not going in.”
Economos blinks a few times and then looks at Adrian. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“What?” Adrian asks.
Chris cracks up laughing. “Economos and Vij? Oh, my God, this is going to be amazing.”
“What?” Adrian repeats. “What am I doing?”
“You and Economos are getting hitched,” Chris says.
Adrian looks at Economos, alarmed. “We never even dated!”
“It’s fake, Adrian,” Adebayo reminds him. “Undercover.”
Adrian winces. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Oh, trust me, I know,” Harcourt says. “But there’s really no other option.”
“Are you sure I can’t just kill somebody?” Adrian pleads. “I’m really good at that.”
“You’ll be fine,” Harcourt says. “You can be Economos’s little boy toy. Don’t talk much.”
“Adrian’s the trophy husband?” Adebayo asks. She’s trying and failing to hold back her laughter.
Harcourt shrugs. “He’s pretty enough.”
Adrian looks startled. “I am?”
Adebayo tips her head while she looks at Adrian. “Yeah…I guess we could change his hair a little, change his glasses, dress him up better.”
“Give him tight enough pants and no one will notice,” Harcourt says, waving a hand at Adrian.
“Why?” Adrian asks.
“You’ve got a pretty nice ass,” Adebayo explains.
Adrian looks over his shoulder, trying to get a look at his own ass. “I do?”
“You’re going to rely on V not fucking things up?” Chris asks. He makes a face. “Really?”
“Hey,” Adrian protests.
“Why do I have to go undercover again?” Economos asks. “I barely made it out of the butterfly ranch alive!”
“Hey, you got the helmet close enough to do what we needed,” Adebayo reminds him.
“We need you,” Harcourt says. “You guys killed all the Nazis who saw your face. Has to be you.”
Economos scoffs. “Okay, fine, but can we go back to the part where we’re pretending to be a couple? Why can’t I just go in solo?”
“Well, one white guy on his own doesn’t attract their attention as well as a gay couple. And besides, you’re not really…” Harcourt bites her lip, considering. “A fighter,” she concludes diplomatically. “If everything goes according to plan, you’re going to need backup.”
“I took out the fucking gorilla!” Economos reminds them all.
“Yeah, but you had the element of surprise,” Adebayo points out.
“And a chainsaw,” Chris says.
“Do we get a chainsaw this time?” Adrian asks.
“V, give up on the fucking chainsaw,” Chris says. Adrian pouts.
“We’re not sending anyone in solo,” Harcourt says. “If someone breaks into your house in the middle of the night to kill you, who else would you want on your side?”
“So I’m like a bodyguard?” Adrian asks.
“Sure,” Harcourt says. “A bodyguard pretending to be part of a couple. Who doesn’t talk a lot. Really need you to understand that talking will not be part of the plan for you.”
“This is going to be a disaster,” Economos mutters.
“This is going to be hilarious,” Chris corrects.
Harcourt rubs her temples. “How is this my life now?”
Chris actually is late to HQ this time. They’re getting Adrian and Economos ready to roll with their new identities. They’re moving into the house tomorrow, but they’re touring it today and everyone was supposed to be at HQ early to help with the backstory and set up.
So Adrian’s already in his undercover clothes when Chris gets inside, and it honestly stops Chris in his tracks.
Adrian’s wearing tight black jeans that make his legs look about a mile long. They are absolutely clinging to his ass and, yeah, okay, Harcourt was right. It’s quite an ass. Though Chris already knew that very well. Adrian’s shirt is hugging his chest, too, and his hair’s all styled.
But what really throws Chris is the glasses. They made Adrian ditch his serial-killer looking frames. Instead, his glasses are light brown and square, and Chris is noticing for the first time how green Adrian’s eyes are.
“Oh,” Chris says involuntarily.
Adrian turns around all the way to look at him. He gives Chris a smile that looks kind of weird on his face, and then he comes over with his hand outstretched to shake.
“Hi,” Adrian says. “I’m Tanner.”
“Tanner?” Chris echoes, a little weirded out. “What kind of name is that?”
“It’s a super normal name,” Adrian says. “Because I’m a super normal guy. It’s rude not to shake someone’s hand when they offer it, you know.”
Yeah, okay. That’s definitely Adrian.
Chris shakes his head and then shakes Adrian’s hand. There’s just no way he’s going to stop holding out his hand if Chris doesn’t. “Dude, that handshake’s way too firm for some computer nerd or whoever you’re supposed to be,” Chris says. “Obviously it didn’t hurt me, because I’m way tougher than anyone else. But some guy in the suburbs would be freaked out.”
“Aw, fuck,” Adrian says. “I just don’t know how to be weak. Economos, how do you do handshakes?”
“Oh, very funny,” Economos says.
“What is?” Adrian asks blankly.
Chris snorts. Economos looks better than usual, too. He’s also wearing tighter clothes, and his beard’s trimmed up quite a bit. It’s also not its usual color. Chris knows he’s staring at Economos’s beard, but he can’t help it.
“Just fucking say it,” Economos says.
“Dye beard,” Chris bursts out. “Okay, got it out of my system.”
“Great,” Harcourt says, coming into the room. “Let’s talk backstory. Economos, you’re John Evanston, computer programmer, yadda yadda. You know. You created all the fake documents. Chase, you’re Tanner Blake—”
“Tanner Blake?” Adebayo interrupts. “God, you sound like a guy who’s going to join their little Nazi club.”
Adrian’s mouth drops open in offense. “Adebayo! I would only join as a way to find them all so I could commit a mass homicide.”
“You know something, Adrian?” Adebayo says. “I actually do know that about you. Respect.”
“Thank you,” he says loftily. “What’s my job? Do I work with computers too?”
“No,” Economos says. “What if someone asked you something about computers?”
“Hey, I know HTML,” Adrian says. “I made my MySpace play a song in middle school.”
“Oh, my Lord,” Adebayo says.
“I never figured out how you nerds were doing that,” Chris says.
“What song?” Harcourt asks. Chris raises his eyebrows and she shrugs. “I’m curious.”
“Wannabe by the Spice Girls,” Adrian says.
“Spice Girls?” Chris asks scornfully.
“Do not speak ill of the Spice Girls,” Adebayo warns.
“I’m with Ads,” Harcourt says. “Their reunion tour was the first concert I went to after high school. Just me with a fake ID and a water bra. My best friend and I got wasted on wine coolers and she threw up all over her platforms.”
Adebayo nods solemnly. “You really spiced up your life that day.”
Harcourt snorts. She shakes her head a little and turns back to Adrian. “Well. Anyway. MySpace aside, your fake identity has nothing to do with computers. You sell medical supplies to hospitals.”
Adrian wrinkles his nose. “That’s boring.”
“Yeah, that’s the point,” Harcourt says. “No one’s going to ask you questions.”
“Can we go back to you in a water bra?” Chris asks.
“No,” Harcourt says. “Tanner and John have been together for four years.”
“Are we married?” Adrian asks.
“No,” Harcourt says.
“Why not?” Adrian asks.
“I don’t know,” Harcourt says. “Who cares?”
Adrian raises his eyebrows. “Four years is a long time,” he points out. “Do we not believe in marriage? Is he cheating on me? Is he still freaked out about being with a dude?”
“I don’t…” Harcourt shakes her head. “How about you go ahead and make that decision yourself.”
“He’s probably still freaked out about being with a dude,” Adrian decides. “Things were different in his generation. I think he has religious parents.”
“I’m not that much older than you. And why is it me who’s the problem?” Economos asks. “Why couldn’t it be you?”
Adrian shrugs. “I figure it’ll be easier for you to pretend to have trouble being with a dude,” Adrian says. “I mean, I’ve been with a lot of dudes in my life.”
“You have?” Adebayo asks. “Adrian! Why did I not know this?”
“Because you said I couldn’t talk about sex around you anymore,” Adrian reminds her.
“I do stand by that,” Adebayo says. “But you could tell me you’ve dated men!”
Adrian shrugs. “Okay. I’ve dated men.”
“Dated?” Chris echoes. “Actually dated? Not just slept with them?”
“No,” Adrian says. “I’ve had two boyfriends.”
“Who?” Chris doesn’t know why he suddenly feels so incredulous about this.
“In sixth grade, I had a boyfriend named Jeremy M.,” Adrian says. “But his parents found out and made him go to Catholic school after that. Then in ninth grade, Luke Nguyen held my hand at lunch every day for a week and then broke up with me to date Luke Brough. Everyone called them the Gay Lukes.”
“Oh,” Chris says. “So not real boyfriends.”
“Yes, real boyfriends,” Adrian says indignantly. “They’re real people! I can show you my yearbooks. And Jeremy M. never gave me back my Star Wars hoodie.”
“We are getting wildly off topic,” Harcourt says.
“Just for the record,” Economos says, “I’ve also been with men.”
“No shit?” Chris asks.
“Well, a man,” Economos says. “I mean, you know, I experimented in college like everybody else. Decided it wasn’t for me.”
“Wait, people actually do that in college?” Chris asks. “Should I start hanging around colleges?”
“No, you perv,” Adebayo says, at the same time Adrian says,
“You’re old enough that a college student could be your kid, P.”
Chris makes a noise of disgust. “Don’t say that shit to me!”
“Sorry,” Adrian says. Under his breath, he mumbles, “Not my fault you’re old.”
Chris glares at him. “Hello?” Harcourt breaks in. “Terrorist attack, remember? I don’t really give a shit about your backstories. Make them up yourselves. You’re going to be late for your tour.”
Adrian heaves a sigh. “We need to have this in place because real estate people are always asking that kind of stuff.”
“How do you know?” Chris asks.
“Because I still lived with my mom when she sold our house,” Adrian says. “The real estate lady would not stop asking me things about myself. Gut said it’s ‘cause it’s a sales job. They try to make you think they’re your friend so they get more money. Like the waitresses at work.”
“You thought the real estate woman was your friend, huh,” Adebayo says.
Adrian shrugs, face going a little downcast. “Yeah. Then my mom sold her house and I never heard from her again.”
“Alright, well, come up with whatever backstory you want on the way over,” Harcourt instructs. “You two need to go. We’ll be behind you. Keep your comms in.”
Economos sighs and heads to the door. Adrian follows him, hectoring him the whole way. “Are we gonna hold hands? When’s your birthday? Why’d you get to keep your same first name and initials and you gave me a weird name? How’d we meet?”
Chris laughs, watching them leave. “Oh, man. Did Economos piss you off or something?” he asks Harcourt.
Adebayo swats at him. “Be nice to your third-best friend.”
“You can be nice in the van,” Harcourt says. “We gotta go.”
The subdivision is only about fifteen minutes from HQ. They can’t actually go in, since it’s a gated community, but they hang around close enough to be in range of the comms and jump in if something happens.
“And the second guest bedroom,” the real estate lady says. She does not sound enthused whatsoever. Chris figures if she’s into Nazis, she doesn’t love having gay dudes in her neighborhood.
“Why’d she even let them buy one of the houses?” he asks.
“She has to,” Harcourt says. “It’s discrimination if she doesn’t.”
“But it’s not her fault if some dudes in white hoods hate crime them and scare them out of the neighborhood,” Adebayo says grimly.
“What are we going to do if some of them stay behind in the safehouse?” Chris asks.
Harcourt shrugs. “As long as it’s only one or two. We can just take them out.”
“Nice,” Chris says, even though he really doesn’t want to be the one to do it. He can enjoy watching Harcourt take someone down while looking hot. He wants the Nazis dead. He’s just not sure he wants to do it. It makes him feel a little guilty, because they definitely deserve it.
“Oh, wow, look at this view!” Adrian says enthusiastically. “Honey bear, check it out.”
Adebayo snorts. “Honey bear?” she echoes.
Judging from the little cough Economos gives, that wasn’t a pet name they discussed on the way over. “Uh, coming, uh…sweetie.”
“I did not expect Adrian to be the better actor here,” Chris says. “Economos fooled the butterflies okay.”
“Yeah, they were aliens,” Adebayo points out. “And they didn’t get much time to practice. We threw them into a four-year relationship in an afternoon.”
The tour sounds boring. It’s just a house. Chris doesn’t get why they cost so much. Or who would pay that much for one. The real estate agent gets colder and colder as they go on, though, especially when Adrian starts playing up the pet names.
“Okay,” she says. “That’s everything.”
“We didn’t see our bedroom,” Adrian says. “With the attached his and his bathroom?”
There’s a beat of silence. Chris doesn’t know what the real estate agent looks like, but he’s pretty sure she’s got steam coming out of her ears. It’s hilarious until Chris remembers she’s internally planning to murder them. Then it’s still funny, but slightly less hilarious.
“It’s upstairs,” she says. “I have another appointment, unfortunately, so you’ll have to wait until you move in tomorrow.”
“Oh, a surprise,” Adrian simpers. “How romantic.”
Chris makes a face. That was weird. Adrian’s really laying it on thick here. Seems a little unnecessary. The real estate agent talks about some more boring paperwork stuff and Economos answers her questions about that. Chris checks out for a bit. Then they finally all head back to HQ.
Adrian’s got the top few buttons of his shirt undone when they come inside. Did he do that for the tour? That seems like a bit much.
“What happened to your shirt?” Chris asks.
“It was so tight on my neck,” Adrian complains. “I had to unbutton it a little.”
“You unbuttoned it a lot,” Chris corrects.
“This shirt is tight,” Adrian says.
“I can see that,” Chris mutters. “What was up with all the pet names and everything?”
“Oh, she was getting pissed,” Adrian says. He cackles. “It was so easy! I just hung all over Economos and grabbed his butt.”
“Yeah, could’ve done without that,” Economos says.
“You touched his ass?” Chris asks incredulously.
Adrian shrugs. “Just a little.”
“Wow,” Chris says. “You’re, uh, committed.” He feels weird. He’s not sure why.
“I was trying to get her extra mad,” Adrian explains. “So she’ll tell the other Nazis to come kill us or whatever.”
“Very smart,” Adebayo praises. “Sounded like it was working.”
“She practically kicked us out!” Adrian agrees.
“Wow,” Harcourt says. “That was…really smart thinking, actually.”
Adrian grins. “Thanks.”
“Right,” Chris says. “So you can end this mission faster.”
Adrian nods. “Yeah, I mean, we only have a week, right?”
“If that,” Harcourt says.
“If you guys can find a computer or phone when you get inside, I can hack it,” Economos says.
“Okay, bragger,” Chris says.
“It’s not bragging,” Economos protests. “I just happen to be skilled.”
Adrian pats him on the back. “You sure do, honey bear.”
“Okay, why?” Economos asks. “Of all the pet names in the world?”
“Well, I think you’d qualify as a bear,” Adrian says. “You know, like the gay guy kind? Though you’re not all super masculine…maybe John Evanston plays sports or is in a biker gang or something. And then since you’re Tanner’s honey, I put them together.”
“How much research did you put into this?” Harcourt asks.
“Hello! I’m not going in blind,” Adrian says.
“Oh, God, you gave him a project,” Chris says. When Adrian decides he’s into something, he goes all in.
Harcourt shrugs. “Well, I’m glad somebody takes their job seriously.”
“Oh, sorry, did I not take out an alien invasion seriously enough?” Chris asks. Harcourt just rolls her eyes.
“I did already know what a bear is,” Adrian says. “Because, you know. I’ve slept with some. Or maybe a lot. Not sure how many counts as some or a lot.”
“Like you go looking for them?” Chris asks. “Wait, am I a bear?”
“Bears are supposed to be fat and hairy,” Adrian says.
“Can we please change the subject?” Economos asks.
“Okay, so, are we planning on a Nazi attack tomorrow night?” Adebayo asks. “Are they going to welcome you to the neighborhood right away?”
“Probably,” Economos says. “You did not see this woman’s face when Adrian grabbed my ass.”
“And I’m grateful for that,” Chris says automatically.
“John, you gotta do better,” Adebayo says. “You didn’t sound very convincing.”
“I guess that’s why he hasn’t popped the question yet,” Adrian says sadly.
“Dude, you know this is fake, right?” Economos checks.
“Duh, man,” Adrian says. “But I guess I’m kind of like a method actor?”
“I don’t think that means what you think it means,” Harcourt says. “I think that would mean you’d need to sleep together.”
“Well, we’re probably going to have to,” Adrian says. Everyone gapes at him. “What?” he asks. “Won’t the Nazis be watching the house? It’d be weird if we slept in different beds.”
“She meant fuck, dude,” Chris tells him. He doesn’t know why his voice came out so loud.
“Oh,” Adrian says. He gives Economos an up-and-down and then shrugs. “Well, if we have to, I guess I could handle that.” Chris sputters but can’t come up with anything to say.
“You definitely do not have to,” Harcourt says.
“What, like it’s a chore?” Economos protests. Then he shakes his head. “Never mind. I do not want to sleep with you, anyway.”
“That’s rude,” Adrian pouts. “But you’re right. It would seriously upend our dynamic.”
“…Sure,” Economos says.
“Anyway,” Adebayo says. “I am slightly on Adrian’s side, except for the sleeping together stuff. But I think you need to hang out tonight and get more comfortable. I’m not saying practice kissing or anything, but it’s obvious you guys don’t vibe as well as you should for a long-term couple.”
“Do we really think the Nazis are going to notice?” Economos asks.
Adebayo tips her head. “Okay, that was not an angle I had considered.”
“Yeah,” Chris says. “No practice necessary just for some stupid Nazis.”
“If we’re lucky, this will all be over by tomorrow night,” Harcourt says.
Economos groans. “Why would you jinx us like that?”
Adebayo nods. “Yeah, seriously. Now they’re going to have to live there as a couple for six months.”
“No,” Chris says disdainfully. “We’ll just kill the Nazis before it comes to that. That’s way too long to leave them there.”
Adebayo looks over at him, eyes narrowing, but she doesn’t say anything.
“We also don’t have six months,” Harcourt reminds them all. “For the ten thousandth time, we have maybe a week to figure out when and where this attack is happening.”
Adrian says, “Can’t we just kill them now? I still don’t get why we can’t go with plan A.”
“Evidence,” Harcourt reminds him. “Court. Prison.”
“Useless,” Adrian shoots back. “Plea deal. Overcrowding.”
Harcourt shrugs. “Yeah, I know. But I don’t get to make that call. Don’t worry, you can kill as many of them in self-defense as you can.”
Adrian fist-pumps. “Yes.”
“Only after they attack you,” Harcourt reminds him. “We need your defense to hold up in court, too.”
Adrian rolls his eyes. “Can I change now?” he asks. “I do not like these pants.”
Chris has to actually bite his tongue to stop himself from telling Adrian not to change. That would be really fucking embarrassing to say out loud. Adebayo glances at Chris, really quickly, and then says, “I don’t know, Adrian, the outfit’s really working for you.”
“Not really,” Adrian says, looking down at himself. “I would have such a hard time kicking someone in the face in these tight pants.”
“Should’ve gotten the kind that stretch,” Harcourt says. “Rookie mistake. Anyway, yeah, we’re done for today. Be ready for move-in tomorrow.”
Everyone disperses. Chris makes his way casually over to Adrian. “Want to go get drunk?”
“Yeah!” Adrian says. “Let me change first.”
“Or…” Chris shrugs, keeping his voice neutral. “Just bring your clothes. Change at my place.”
“Okay,” Adrian says. “I have to go get my bag.” He heads across the room. Chris is surreptitiously admiring the view when he notices Adebayo easing over. She’s already got her eyebrows raised.
“Don’t,” he says before she can open her mouth.
“Don’t what?” she asks innocently.
“Do not say shit to me,” he says. “I see you looking.”
“I see you looking,” she shoots back with a smirk.
“Okay, I walked right into that one,” Chris says, chagrined.
“You gonna make a move?” Adebayo asks. “He is looking good, if you’re into that.”
“I don’t really need to make a move,” Chris says.
“True,” Adebayo agrees. “I bet he’s ready to jump your bones on a perpetual basis.”
“No,” Chris starts, but then he says, “Well, I mean, yeah, but I mean, no, I don’t need to make a move because we—I’ve already—”
Adebayo’s eyes go comically wide. “You already hit that?” she whisper-shrieks. She makes a face. “I apologize for using the phrase hit that. I do regret it. My mind is having a hard time coming up with normal things to say. And also I’m having a hard time stopping my mouth from talking.”
“Yeah, I got it,” Chris says. His face is burning. “Don’t be weird.”
“I’m normal!” Adebayo insists. “As soon as my brain starts communicating with my mouth again. I am cool. I am smooth. I am fine.”
Adrian’s on his way back over. Chris looks over at Adebayo and widens his eyes. She widens hers back. “Shut up,” he hisses.
“I wasn’t even talking!”
“Not yet,” Chris says.
“Why are you guys whispering?” Adrian asks. “Dude, you’re super red. Were you lifting a desk or something?”
“Yes,” Chris says. Adebayo snorts and covers it with a fake coughing attack.
“Water,” she gasps out, pointing across the room and fleeing.
“Is she okay?” Adrian asks.
“She’s fine,” Chris says. “Let’s go.”
He has to keep reminding himself not to stare as Adrian drives them to Chris’s. Adrian switched back to his regular glasses, but his pants are so tight Chris can almost see the definition in his quads when he presses the gas. Chris makes himself look out the window. And it’s hard to look away. This is so fucking weird.
Sure, they’ve had sex. And yeah, Chris definitely knows Adrian has a good body. But Chris has never had trouble looking away from him before. He’s never felt this strong of a pull to him. He had no idea clothes could make such a difference. He’s annoyed Economos has a perfect excuse to look at him in those pants as much as he wants.
They get inside Chris’s trailer. Eagly chitters at them in hello. He lets Adrian give him exactly three pets before he clicks his beak in warning. Adrian holds up his hands in surrender. “Okay, dude, I got it,” Adrian promises. “No more touching.”
Eagly hops over to Chris. Chris gives him a few pets—four, but who’s counting—and then says, “You want to go fly?” He opens the door and Eagly flies off.
Adrian waves at him. “Bye, Eagly!” he says, and it’s ridiculously dorky and stupid and Chris has to bite his lip to keep from pressing Adrian up against the fridge.
Jesus Christ, what the fuck is going on?
“Did you kiss Economos?” Chris hears himself blurting out. Why the fuck did he ask that?
“Huh?” Adrian asks. “Oh, no. We didn’t talk beforehand about kissing and you don’t kiss people unless they’re into it.”
“Didn’t you say you grabbed his ass?” Chris asks.
“Well, yeah,” Adrian admits. “But I don’t think that’s as bad as kissing.”
Chris tips his head. “I don’t know about that.”
“Oh,” Adrian says. “Should I say sorry?”
“Nah,” Chris says, because he can’t focus on anything right now. “Come on, let’s drink.”
“Sweet,” Adrian says.
“Let’s start with shots,” Chris says. He does three back-to-back in the time it takes Adrian to down one and Adrian cracks up laughing.
“Dude, what the hell? We have to get up tomorrow for work!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Chris says. “But come on, this is kinda like a bachelor party, right? A fake bachelor party for your fake relationship with Economos.”
“We’re not fake married,” Adrian reminds him. “John’s got commitment issues.”
“He’s John now?” Chris asks, head starting to go a little wobbly from the shots. He knows he’s called Economos John before, but he doesn’t think he’s ever heard Adrian say it.
“Not Economos John,” Adrian clarifies. “John Evanston. The fake one.”
“Oh, right,” Chris says.
“Ugh, I gotta change,” Adrian says.
“No, don’t,” Chris says without meaning to.
“What?” Adrian says. “Dude, these pants are tight.”
“I know,” Chris says. In for a penny or whatever the hell that expression is. “Uh, yeah. I know. I—yeah. They’re tight.”
“What?” Adrian asks.
“I just—” Chris can’t say it. He is not physically or mentally capable of making himself say the words. So instead he just crowds up close to Adrian and grabs his ass.
“Oh!” Adrian says. He presses himself against Chris so they’re chest-to-chest and then says, “Wait, is this, like, practice for tomorrow?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Chris says, sucking at his neck and kneading his ass.
“Okay,” Adrian agrees, arching into Chris. He pushes his hands up Chris’s shirt and digs his nails into Chris’s back, the way that always gets Chris super hot.
“I’ve been staring at your ass all fucking day,” Chris says between leaving hickeys on Adrian’s collarbone. Why the hell is he talking? He doesn’t normally talk to Adrian when they have sex.
“Really?” Adrian asks, pushing Chris back for a second to pull Chris’s shirt over his head. “I didn’t know.”
“Driving me fucking crazy,” Chris admits.
“Really?” Adrian asks again. He starts to unbutton his shirt and Chris shakes his head. He’d grab his hands to make him stop, but he doesn’t want to let go of Adrian’s ass. Adrian’s eyebrows shoot up. “Wow, you really like Tanner, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Chris says. He pulls off Adrian’s glasses and sets them on the counter before kissing him. Adrian makes a little noise in the back of his throat and puts his hands on Chris’s face. They make out against the counter for a while and Chris feels like he’s going to cum in his pants like he’s sixteen.
“Come on,” he mumbles, pulling at Adrian and leading him to the bedroom.
“Ugh, these pants are so tight,” Adrian complains again. “Dude, I don’t know if I can even get them off to get off.”
That makes Chris laugh. “I’ll help,” he promises.
“Oh, fuck,” Adrian breathes. “Fuck, yeah.”
Chris pushes Adrian down on his bed. It really does take their combined effort to peel Adrian out of the pants, and Chris is so hard he’s worried he’s going to pass out from lack of blood flow to his brain. Or maybe he’s going to lose a finger or something. The point is all his blood is heading to one place and it seems mildly dangerous.
A knife clatters out of Adrian’s pants when they finally get them off. Chris blinks at Adrian. “Are you fucking serious?”
“What am I supposed to do, have no weapons?” Adrian asks. He makes a face like Chris is crazy. And how is even that hot?
“Shit,” Chris swears. “I am fucking dying.”
“Huh?” Adrian asks. “Dying how?”
“Not like—shut up,” Chris says.
“It’s not really a turn on for you to keep telling me to shut up!” Adrian protests.
“It’s not?” Chris asks. Adrian’s never complained about that before, and Chris is positive he’s said it while they were having sex plenty of times.
“Well, I guess it’s not not a turn on,” Adrian admits.
“What?”
“Fuck, dude, I don’t know,” Adrian says, frustrated. “I can’t even fucking think right now. Can we just—”
He finally does shut up as he gets busy putting his mouth to other uses. Chris would say something about how it’s a miracle, except his brain also isn’t working. It doesn’t start working for a while. But on the plus side, Chris doesn’t have to worry about losing any extremities anymore.
When they finish and they’re falling asleep in Chris’s bed, Adrian starts laughing a little. “I have like four pairs of pants like that,” he says. “I’m wearing them for as long as this mission takes.”
“Shit,” Chris says. “I fucking hate fighting people when I’m hard.”
Adrian laughs. “Dude, for real? They’re just tight pants!”
“I don’t know,” Chris defends himself. He’s not feeling too defensive; Adrian’s laughter isn’t making him feel bad. It’s making him feel kind of stupid and silly. And good, overall. The shots from earlier are definitely helping with that. “You got a tight ass, man.”
“Aw, thanks, P. So do you know, you know?”
“Yeah, but mine’s bigger,” Chris points out smugly.
Adrian tips his head. “Well, not proportionally. Like, okay, your ass might be bigger than mine in general. But compared to the rest of your body, your ass is actually kind of small. Definitely tight! Rock hard muscles, bro, don’t think I’m saying anything negative. But. You know. If you look at body-to-ass ratio, mine’s bigger.”
Chris looks over at him. “Body-to-ass ratio?”
They start cracking up at the same time. “I just made that up,” Adrian admits. “It’s not a real unit of measurement.”
“Yeah, I know that,” Chris howls through his laughter. “Fucking Einstein over here calculating ass.”
“Ass mass,” Adrian says, and they’re both crying laughing now. Chris isn’t sure if it’s the endorphins of a good fuck or all the whiskey. A lot of their hookups involve hysterical laughter, actually, and Chris wonders for a second if that’s a sign they should cut back on the drinking.
They eventually settle down and fall asleep. They really do have to get up in the morning for Adrian and Economos to move in with the Nazis. Chris wakes up sometime in the middle of the night, way too dark for it to be time to get up, and notices they’ve both migrated closer to the middle of the bed in their sleep.
They don’t normally cuddle, even when they share a bed after they hook up. But for some reason in Chris’s still-partially-drunk, mostly-still-asleep brain, pressing his chest against Adrian’s back right now seems essential. So he does it.
Adrian shifts around a little, fitting himself closer into Chris’s body, but he doesn’t wake up. Chris presses his face into Adrian’s warm neck and falls back to sleep.