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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.

Chapter Text

Harcourt’s pissed at them, because they’re late again. Well, again for Chris. Adrian hasn’t been late until now and he’s obviously kind of annoyed about it, because it’s definitely Chris’s fault. He promised Adrian they had time for a little morning quickie. And then after they finished, they realized they hadn’t been very quick after all.

Chris doesn’t feel especially guilty about that. Waking up curled together, nose to nose and hard-on to hard-on, meant there was really no other option but fucking. What were they supposed to do, talk about the fact that they apparently cuddled all night? Yeah, right.

“You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago!” Harcourt says.

“I know!” Adrian shoots back, harried.

“We gotta go get the keys, like, now, dude,” Economos says.

“I know!” Adrian repeats. “I’m ready.”

“Your hair is crazy,” Adebayo says. She is pointedly not looking at Chris. Chris is pretty sure she knows, and she’s probably going to laugh if she looks at him.

“Well, who cares?” Adrian says. “Do people really do their hair to move?”

“Probably not,” Adebayo admits.

“We can just tell them John and Tanner had sex in the car on the way over,” Adrian adds. Chris’s stomach gives a little lurch at that. The mental image of Adrian in those pants, fucking in a car—okay. Chris blinks that image away before he embarrasses himself in front of everyone. He feels like a teenager, like every single time he looks at Adrian he’s going to get too hot to concentrate.

“We probably don’t need to tell them that,” Economos says. “I think the real estate lady would actually just shoot us on the spot.”

“Oh, don’t worry, honey bear,” Adrian says in a high-pitched voice. “I’ll keep you safe from the scary little real estate lady.”

“I’m going to shoot myself, actually,” Economos says.

“Just go,” Harcourt says. “You have your comms?”

“Oh,” Adrian says, looking around.

“I got it,” Economos assures him.

“Aw, what a good boyfriend,” Adebayo says with a half-glance at Chris. Chris doesn’t know why that’s leaving him tongue-tied.

“Fiancé, actually,” Adrian corrects. “We got engaged last night, finally. To celebrate our new house!”

“Wow, I had no idea,” Economos says dryly as they head out the door.

“It was very romantic,” Adrian promises.

When Chris gets inside the van, Adebayo’s smirking at him.

“Shut up,” he says.

“I didn’t say a word,” she says. She mimes zipping her lips. Then she mimes unzipping them and mimes something incredibly lewd. She doesn’t even do it right. She’s terrible at charades.

Chris rolls his eyes, but Harcourt gets in the driver’s seat and he gives Adebayo a warning look. She zips her lips back up and then pretends to lock it and throw away the key. Chris rolls his eyes again while Adebayo cracks up over her own wit.

“This is going to be a long fucking day,” Harcourt groans.

She’s not wrong. They park at some weird coffee place with a board out front advertising things Chris has never heard of and can’t pronounce. They figured they’d be less conspicuous parked at a business instead of on the side of the road by the neighborhood gates. And they’re going to be set up for as long as it takes.

They sit and listen while Adrian and Economos get the keys from the real estate agent. “We can’t wait to try that bathtub,” Adrian says.

“Hmm,” the real estate agent says.

Then Economos and Adrian get lost trying to find the right house and argue about it for five minutes. “It’s 50407, dipshits,” Harcourt finally snaps. “I gave you a fucking dossier for a reason.”

Economos and Adrian set up cameras all over the house and the yard, and then Harcourt drives up in the U-Haul they rented. It’s full of empty boxes, just so it looks like they’re actually moving in. Then they kind of just sit around.

“So now we just sit here and wait?” Adrian asks.

“That is the plan,” Adebayo says on the comm.

“Ugh, this is boring already,” Adrian complains. “We don’t even have a real TV.”

“I have a deck of cards,” Economos says.

“Okay, but I only know how to play Go Fish,” Adrian says.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Economos asks.

“Really, you’re surprised?” Adebayo asks. “I have no trouble believing that at all.”

Harcourt comes back to the van. “Haven’t you ever been on a stakeout before?”

“Not really,” Adrian admits. “I don’t normally do a lot of waiting around.”

“Or evidence gathering,” Economos points out. “How do you even know you kill the right people?”

“Well, sometimes I don’t,” Adrian says. “I feel pretty bad about it.”

“No, you don’t,” Chris corrects.

“No, I don’t,” Adrian agrees.

“You’re not doing that shit anymore, right?” Harcourt checks. “You’re not going around killing people on your own while you’re working for a government task force. Right?” She injects an unmistakable note of warning in her voice.

Adrian’s quiet for way too long. “Um, no,” he lies. Then he says, “I won’t anymore, for sure.”

Chris snorts. He told Adrian months ago to cut that shit out. But Adrian said if Chris was going to hang up his dove of peace, Adrian needed to patrol twice as hard to keep the streets safe. Or whatever it is Adrian says when he starts spouting off all that gibberish; Chris doesn’t listen most of the time.

They’ve still got about three hours until nightfall, and Chris assumes the Nazis won’t come out right at sunset. So it’ll probably be a minimum of five hours or so. He sighs. Adrian’s right. This is so boring.

“Can we order pizza?” Adrian asks.

“That’s a good idea, dude,” Economos says. “Pizza’s a super typical thing to eat on your first night in a new place.”

Economos does the order from his phone. Adrian gets up and stands in front of one of the cameras in the other room. Then he turns around and bends over to push a box over. His ass is pretty much front and center on the camera. He looks over his shoulder and winks. He does not know how to wink subtly. He does it with his mouth open and everything.

Chris starts coughing. “Dude, what the fuck,” he hisses under his breath.

Adrian shrugs and smirks, heading back over to the box he was using as a chair. Adebayo looks at Chris. “Seriously?”

“What?” Chris says defensively. It’s not like he told Adrian to do that. The fact that he enjoyed it is not important.

“What the hell was that about?” Harcourt demands.

“Uh…” Adrian’s face goes all deer-in-headlights.

“He…” Chris isn’t much better.

Harcourt looks at Chris and then looks at Adrian on the screen. “Oh, Jesus Christ, seriously?” she asks. “Did you seriously fuck him?”

“Whoa, what?” Economos asks, oblivious in the other room.

“Technically, no,” Chris says.

“Technically?” Adebayo asks.

“Technically he fucked me,” Chris explains.

“Holy shit,” Economos yells.

“That was an unnecessary addition,” Adebayo says accusingly. “This is why Adrian’s not allowed to talk to me about sex anymore. You guys do not know how to do it tastefully.”

“I was just being accurate!” Chris says.

“Technically, there are more things I could explain,” Adrian says. “But Adebayo has very effective threats.”

“And don’t forget it,” Adebayo says.

“I won’t,” Adrian says.

“Have you never heard the expression, don’t shit where you eat?” Harcourt asks.

“Well, technically—”

“Stop saying technically,” Harcourt says.

“Okay. But…we were shitting before we were eating,” Chris says.

“What?” Economos asks.

“I’m not sure how shit got in this conversation,” Adrian says. “But you do have to eat to shit.”

Harcourt rubs her temples. “You’re telling me you were fucking before Project Butterfly?”

“So no one’s going to tell me why we were talking about shit?” Adrian says, wrinkling his nose. “But yes, we were.”

“You didn’t think this was relevant information?” Harcourt asks.

“Not really,” Chris says with a shrug.

“Even if I did, I can’t tell you,” Adrian says. “Adebayo won’t let me.”

“I said don’t talk to me about it,” Adebayo points out. “And I meant don’t give me details. I didn’t mean keep secrets from the team.”

“Oh,” Adrian says. “Sorry. Well, okay, yes, we’ve been hooking up since before Peacemaker went to prison.”

“Wow,” Economos says. “I can’t believe you would cheat on John like that.”

Adebayo snorts. Adrian’s head whips around to look at Economos. “Hey! Tanner would never!”

“It’s a joke, dude,” Economos says.

“I really don’t care about this,” Harcourt says. “Just tell me it’s not going to be a problem.”

“A problem how?” Adrian asks.

“You’re not going to break up and be weird,” Adebayo supplies.

“Well, we can’t break up,” Chris points out. “We’re not dating.”

“Yeah, we just hook up sometimes,” Adrian says.

“Yeah,” Chris agrees. “Friends with benefits.”

“I think all friends have benefits,” Adrian says. “But sure. Friends with sex benefits.”

“Great, whatever,” Harcourt says. “With that out of the way, don’t be doing nasty sex shit in front of the rest of us.”

“He just moved a box,” Chris points out innocently.

“Oh, no, P, I was doing that on purpose for you to look at my ass,” Adrian explains. “You know, because yesterday you said you couldn’t stop staring at my ass in those pants, and last night when I bent over—”

“Stop!” Adebayo says. “Adrian.”

“Sorry!” he says. “I didn’t mean to! Ugh, you keep changing the rules.”

“I know what you were doing,” Chris says. “I was pretending it was nothing so we wouldn’t get in trouble, idiot.”

“Ohhh, right,” Adrian says. “Yeah, I was just moving a box.”

Harcourt sighs. “Maybe we should’ve let the butterflies take over.”

“It’s sounding better every minute,” Economos agrees.

“Is that another joke?” Adrian asks.

“I haven’t decided,” Economos says.

“What?”

“It’s a joke,” Adebayo says. “God, this mission already feels eternal.”

“I have some other things I should probably tell you guys,” Adrian says. “If we’re not supposed to keep secrets.”

“Like what?” Harcourt asks warily.

“Um, wow, where to start? Okay, I don’t actually get an employee discount on endless mozzarella sticks. Also, endless mozzarella sticks aren’t actually a thing. Um, once when I was a kid I broke three fingers but I didn’t tell anyone and then the next day they were fine and I thought I was the new Jesus and I was super freaked out because I thought it meant I had to die. The first person I ever killed was Mr. Vassar in high school. Sometimes when I—”

“I meant don’t keep secrets that affect the team,” Adebayo says. “We don’t need to know all your secrets.”

“You killed one of your teachers?” Economos asks.

“Wait, was Mr. Vassar that science teacher?” Chris asks.

“Yeah,” Adrian says, seemingly to both of them.

”Are we all just going to blow past the fact that he thought he was Jesus?” Harcourt wonders.

”Yeah, I’m not touching that,” Adebayo says.

“Wasn’t that science teacher the one who’d keep girls after school and then grope them?” Chris asks.

“Yep,” Adrian confirms.

“Oh,” Economos says. “Adrian, you—your teacher—?” He’s wincing.

“Huh?” Adrian asks. “No, he didn’t grope me. He groped girls. He groped my friend Katie and she was really upset about it and told me and then I went to talk to him and…” He shrugs. “I didn’t mean to kill him. But then he was dead and I was like…huh, that was cool.”

“Did they ever find his body?” Chris asks. “I remember him going missing.”

“No, they did not,” Adrian says with a little laugh.

“God, this is a deep dive into your psyche that I did not ask for,” Harcourt mutters.

A car pulls up in front of the house. “Your pizza’s here,” Chris says.

“Sweet!” Adrian says.

“You sleep with this person,” Economos says conversationally after he comes back from the door and Adrian starts inhaling pizza. “He’s eating pizza right after he talked about killing someone.”

Adebayo shrugs. “I mean, it was a pedophile.”

“And his class was super boring,” Chris adds.

“Okay, I really don’t think those two things belong in the same category,” Adebayo says.

“Nobody else was doing anything about it,” Adrian says with a shrug. “The principal kept telling girls they were lying.”

“Did you kill him, too?” Harcourt asks.

“No,” Adrian says. “Oh, wait. Yes, I did. But later, when I was Vigilante. He was embezzling.”

“Oh, they did find that body,” Chris remembers.

“Yeah, they were supposed to,” Adrian says.

Chris’s stomach rumbles. The pizza looks good. “Can we have pizza?” he asks Harcourt.

“I think the pizza guy might think it’s a little weird to deliver to a van in a parking lot,” she points out.

“I delivered pizzas in high school,” Economos says. “I did not give a shit where I was delivering them.”

“Still no,” Harcourt says. “Too memorable. You can go in that coffee shop and get something.”

“Ugh, it looks weird,” Chris whines. “Everything says probiotic in front of it.”

Harcourt just gives him a look that mostly means he needs to shut the fuck up. He pouts for a second, but then he gets out of the van. “I’m not bringing you back anything,” he says haughtily.

“Yes, you are,” Harcourt says.

Chris makes a face. “Fine.”

“Get me something, too!” Adebayo says.

“What am I supposed to get you?” Chris asks. “We don’t even know what they have.”

“Get me something that approximates a blueberry muffin,” Adebayo requests.

“I’ll do my best,” Chris promises.

“Surprise me,” Harcourt says.

The coffee shop looks a bit more normal on the inside. Chris still doesn’t know what the hell half this stuff is. He’s never heard of a fucking carob chip in his life. He doesn’t know if this is something new that happened while he was in prison or if he’s just not the type of dude to know this stuff.

He grabs a few things that call themselves sandwiches—wheat-free buns?—and can only find something called an “acai cluster” for Adebayo. It’s the closest thing to a blueberry muffin he can find. There’s not a goddamn chocolate chip in this place. He also gets a bunch of coffee, since they’re going to be sleeping in shifts. It won’t stay warm, but he’s had worse than cold coffee.

Harcourt and Adebayo both eat their food without complaint, so Chris thinks this might be one of those things that changed while he was in prison. Maybe the wheat-free buns are lower in carbs or something. That’s fine. The taste is…not what he’d call good, necessarily, but he might just not be used to it. He can adapt. Maybe.

“Mmm…I really want that pizza,” Adebayo says when she’s done.

“God, me too,” Harcourt admits.

“Oh, good,” Chris says, relieved. “This food is weird, right? Or am I just used to prison food?”

They both stare at him for a second. “Oh, yeah,” Harcourt says. “Sometimes I kinda forget you’ve only been out for a few months.”

“This food is pretty mainstream now,” Adebayo says. “But I think it’s still kind of weird. Like, I bet this is the only place in Evergreen you could find wheat-free anything. But I’m sure that’s really nice if you’re allergic to gluten. There are a lot of places like this in Gotham.”

Chris doesn’t fully know what gluten is, but he doesn’t want to bring that up. He already feels stupid enough after not knowing about carob or acai.

“Oh, my God,” Adrian groans. “Can’t the Nazis just hurry up and try to kill us already? What’s taking so long? I’m so bored!”

“It’s been four hours,” Harcourt says.

“It’s not even dark yet,” Economos says. “I’m sure they’re stupid, but they can’t be that stupid.”

“Oh, someone is going up to your door,” Adebayo says. “It’s a woman. Not the real estate lady.”

“She’s got cookies,” Chris says. “Fuck, I want a cookie.”

She knocks on the door. Economos and Adrian both go to the door. Economos opens it and the woman gives them a bright smile. “Hello there! I saw your moving van and wanted to come welcome you to the neighborhood.”

“Oh,” Economos says. “Thank…you.”

“I’m Leslie, I live across the street. It’s been so exciting seeing everyone move in!”

“I’m John,” Economos says. “This is Tanner.”

“We’re fiancés,” Adrian says.

“Oh, you’re—oh.” Leslie’s still smiling. She might not be a Nazi. Or she’s just a better actress than the real estate agent.

“Yeah,” John says. “We got engaged last night.”

“How exciting!” Leslie squeals. “Oh, I’m so glad to have some gay guys in the neighborhood. You know, usually my gaydar is just perfect, so I’m surprised I didn’t ping you!”

“Oh,” Economos says. “Um. Yeah.”

Adebayo rolls her eyes. “Now she wants you to be her new gay BFFs. She probably thinks all gay men have to be super feminine and take her shopping. Bet she’s the kind of lady who goes to a gay bar for a bachelorette party and then freaks out when lesbians hit on her.”

“I’m not good at shopping,” Adrian says. Chris rolls his eyes. Adrian needs to stop responding to conversations they’re having on the comms, since no one else can hear them.

Leslie laughs like it makes sense. “Oh, I know it’s just a stereotype! But wouldn’t it be so nice? Well, anyway, you know, I run the neighborhood watch program. Two big strong men like you would be great for us!”

“Uh…” Economos glances at Adrian. Neighborhood watch is mostly at night, as far as Chris knows. They need to be at the house for the Nazis to show up.

“We can’t do the neighborhood watch,” Adrian says. “We…have…narcolepsy.”

“Oh,” Leslie says.

“Narcolepsy?” Harcourt echoes. “Really?”

“Sorry,” Economos adds.

“Well, okay,” Leslie says. Her smile is looking a little less genuine now.

“But Tanner here is great at lifting things,” Economos says with a little smirk he can pass off as a smile. “If you ever need help.”

“Oooh, how sweet,” Leslie says. She gives Adrian a little giggle and touches his arm. Chris thinks this is probably proof that she’s a criminal. He chooses not to examine where that thought came from.

“I’m really strong,” Adrian agrees, looking down at her hand on his arm with a furrowed brow. “But I can only help during the day.”

“Um…” Leslie looks kind of weirded out and takes her hand back. “Yeah, that’s—okay?”

“Well, we better get back to unpacking,” Economos says hastily. “Thanks so much.”

“Thanks for the cookies,” Adrian says. “We love cookies.”

“Oh, there’s plenty more where they came from,” Leslie promises. “Let me know if I can help with anything. Just across the street there!” She points to her house.

“Yeah, we know what that means,” Adrian says. Economos elbows him.

Leslie finally leaves. Adrian carries the cookies into the living room, the only room with any furniture besides the bed they set up in the bedroom. “Well, she wanted to fuck you,” Chris says, hoping he doesn’t sound as annoyed as he feels.

“We told her we’re engaged!” Adrian says, outraged. “Who does she think I am?”

“She did give off a vibe,” Economos agrees. “Maybe when we’re done you can get her number.”

“Well, we don’t know for sure she’s not a Nazi,” Chris says hastily. “And even if she’s not, she’s kind of weird. She’d hit on you right in front of the dude you’re engaged to? What’s that about?”

“Wow,” Harcourt says under her breath.

“That’s true,” Adrian says.

“Is it?” Adebayo asks. Chris gives her a dirty look.

“Hang on, now someone else is going to your door,” Harcourt says. “Jeez, how boring are the suburbs that people need to come meet new neighbors so much?”

“Oh, fuck,” Chris says. “I know that dude. Well, I don’t know him, but I recognize him.”

“Nazi?” Adebayo asks.

“Big time.”

Adrian pulls a knife out of…somewhere. Chris never got around to asking where the knife came from last night. “No!” Harcourt says. “Jesus Christ, how many times do I have to say it?”

“I’m just being prepared!” Adrian defends himself. “I won’t use it unless I have to.”

“Have to means he’s literally shooting at you,” Harcourt says. “Not just saying shit.” Adrian groans. But he doesn’t put the knife away.

“Where the hell were you hiding that?” Economos asks. “Those pants are so fucking tight.”

“Next to my dick,” Adrian says.

Economos stares at him. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, it’s a great hiding place. There’s already a bulge there anyway and people are too embarrassed to ask about it.”

“So you kill someone with a dick knife?” Adebayo says. “Seems like it’s really adding insult to injury.”

“What do they care?” Adrian asks. “They’re dead.”

The Nazi knocks on the door, cutting off the conversation. Chris has a few more questions about Adrian tucking a knife up next to his balls. There’s probably a Thimble joke in there somewhere. Also, it seems a little dangerous. Chris feels more invested in the safety of Adrian’s balls than he did when they were getting electrocuted. Maybe he still feels guilty about that.

Economos opens the door. Adrian keeps his hand holding the knife behind the door. “Hi,” he says brightly. “Did you bring us cookies too?”

“Just meeting the new neighbors,” the Nazi says.

“Well, I’m John,” Economos says.

“I’m Tanner,” Adrian says. He leans his head against Economos’s shoulder and Economos obligingly puts his arm around Adrian. “We’re so happy to be in such a nice neighborhood. Great place to raise our kids, I hear.”

“Kids?” Nazi dude asks.

“The ones we’ll have in the future,” Adrian clarifies. “We’re going to adopt a lot of kids. Probably get a nice variety of ethnicities and races, since we won’t specify that we only want a white kid the way some people do. But we'll definitely respect all their cultures and learn about them. We’ll be a real multicultural family!” He laughs, eyes totally blank.

“God, he’s terrifying sometimes,” Harcourt says. “Look at his eyes.”

Chris is more focused on Adrian’s head on Economos’s shoulder. Economos is tall enough that Adrian’s head fits there perfectly. That’s good, probably. For the mission. He reminds himself this is all for the mission.

Nazi dude’s face looks like he just ate a lemon. “Well,” he says. “This is a Christian neighborhood.”

“That’s nice,” Economos says. “I hear Christians believe in loving thy neighbor.”

Now Nazi dude’s lip is actually curling. “You ever heard of the Crusades?”

“No,” Adrian says.

“You will,” Nazi dude promises. Then he turns and leaves. He spits in the grass as he goes.

“Oh, they love the Crusades,” Chris says, rolling his eyes. “My ninth grade history teacher told us the Christians lost and my dad burned her house down.”

“Jesus Christ,” Adebayo says.

“I really want to throw this at his back,” Adrian says, flipping his knife in his hand. “But I won’t.”

“Your restraint is admirable,” Harcourt says dryly.

Economos closes the door. “So I guess that was him scoping us out. I’m sure he’ll be back tonight.”

“I hope so,” Adrian says. He sticks the knife back down his pants.

”You probably don’t need it in there while you’re just inside the house,” Adebayo says.

”Uh, sure, except for if someone comes in unexpectedly. What am I supposed to do, run across the room to get the gun under the couch?”

”You put a gun under the couch?” Economos asks.

Adrian huffs. “You’re welcome!”

“Have you really never heard of the Crusades?” Economos asks.

Adrian shrugs. “I don’t know. Christians killed a bunch of people, right? It was like…medieval times? I was never into knights and horses.”

“You play D&D,” Economos points out.

“Yeah, I like them in pretend,” Adrian says. “I don’t care about them in real life. Sounds like they were super racist.”

Economos shakes his head a little. “Okay. Do not hog all those cookies.”

“We should ration them,” Adrian says.

“You’ve already eaten three.”

They squabble over the cookies for a little bit. “This is going to be a long fucking mission,” Harcourt mutters.

They have more time sitting around, waiting for it to get dark. Economos has his computer, so he and Adrian spend forty-five minutes trying to pick something to watch. They finally settle on a nature documentary about baboons.

“A documentary?” Chris asks, nose wrinkled.

“I love nature shit,” Adrian says. “The animal kingdom is fucking brutal, dude.”

The sun finally sets. Economos and Adrian change into pajamas and get into the bed. Chris isn’t sure why his stomach feels like it’s in knots. It’s fake. He knows it’s fake. And even if it weren’t, it’s not like it’s any of Chris’s business. He fucks plenty of people besides Adrian. No reason Adrian can’t, too.

But still. Seeing Adrian climb into bed with Economos makes Chris feel weird. Adrian’s just in boxers and a t-shirt, the same thing he always wears to sleep in. Economos has some kind of old-man matching set.

God, are they going to wind up all tangled together like Chris and Adrian did last night? No, they won’t. Chris shared a bed with Adrian plenty of times without them ever cuddling like that. It was a weird fluke. And anyway, Adrian and Economos won’t be sleeping at the same time, because they have to keep watch on their end, too.

Adebayo’s on first watch in the van. Harcourt lies flat on one of the bench seats that probably used to be a vet exam table and is seemingly out in seconds. Chris has a harder time settling down. He put a camera in his trailer, so he uses the app on his phone to check on Eagly.

He’s going to have to clean up a bunch of eagle shit when he gets back, but he didn’t like the idea of leaving the roof open for Eagly to come and go when Chris couldn’t go find him if he’d been gone too long. But aside from the bird shit and some mouse bones, everything looks fine. Eagly’s settled onto his perch, asleep.

So there’s no reason for Chris not to go to sleep. Eagly’s fine. Chris needs to sleep so he’ll be ready when it’s his turn on watch. But his mind won’t shut off. He usually smokes some weed when he gets like this.

Weed reminds him of the cookies Economos and Adrian have in their empty kitchen. Chris’s stomach gives a little growl at that thought. Chris deliberates. It’s dark now. He could probably get into the house without anyone recognizing him.

He glances at Harcourt. She’s got her hood up over her head and earplugs in. He knows she’d say no if she knew what he was thinking. So he doesn’t bother waking her up to ask. Adebayo raises her eyebrows when he crawls into the front seat and grabs the door handle.

“I’m going to go get those cookies,” Chris says.

Adebayo looks at Harcourt in the back. “You know that’s a stupid idea,” she says.

“It’s dark,” Chris says. “I’ll be fast. You want one or not?”

Adebayo bites her lip. “Okay, fine,” she says. “But here.” She tosses a sweatshirt at him. “Wear the hood.”

It’s not very cold outside, but he knows it’s a good idea. The sweatshirt’s too small, but it’s the kind that zips up, so he just leaves it open. It still looks absolutely ridiculous, but whatever. He’s on a mission.

He doesn’t run, since that would attract way too much attention, so it takes him about ten minutes to even get inside the neighborhood. They can gate it off from cars, but it’s still easy to get inside on foot. Then Chris gets a little lost finding the right house, since they all look the same, but he gets there eventually.

He texts Adrian. Open the door.

He knows Adrian’s awake, because Adrian took first watch. It only takes a minute for Adrian to come down and open the door.

“Dude, what are you doing here?” Adrian asks, stepping back so Chris can come inside.

“Me and Adebayo want your cookies.”

“Aw, man,” Adrian whines as he closes the door. “There’s only seven left.”

“I think that’s plenty to share,” Adebayo says on the comm.

Adrian pouts for a second, but he relents. “Fine, come on.”

His bare feet make a little noise on the hardwood, but not much. He always talks about how hard he’s worked to walk quietly. Seems like it’s paid off. His hair’s mussed from lying around all day when he still had a little gel in it. His skin is probably all warm like it gets when he’s relaxed. Chris’s heart is suddenly starting to speed up. Just looking at Adrian, dressed for the bedroom, is reminding Chris of, well, being in the bedroom.

“Hey,” Chris says quietly. He tips his head toward the bathroom. They didn’t put cameras in there, obviously.

“I don’t need to pee,” Adrian says, confused.

Chris grabs his wrist and tugs him inside. He closes the door and presses Adrian up against the wall.

“Oh,” Adrian says. “Shit, okay. Wait, oh, shit,” Adrian says as Chris slips his hand into Adrian’s boxers. “Fuck, oh, hang on, what about—ah—keeping watch?”

“It’s okay, Adebayo’s keeping watch,” Chris murmurs against Adrian’s neck. “Ads, turn off your comm for a little bit.”

“You are such freaks,” she says. Chris assumes she turns off her comm. If she doesn’t, that’s on her. He warned her.

“Okay, God, yeah, okay,” Adrian babbles.

“That a knife in here or are you just happy to see me?” Chris jokes.

“What?” Adrian asks, hands squeezing at Chris’s shoulders. “You’re holding my dick.”

Chris shakes his head. “How’s the knife not cut your balls?” he asks, cupping said balls.

Adrian arches into Chris’s hand. “I got, uh, I got a cover for—fuck, dude.”

“Good,” Chris breathes, mouthing at Adrian’s neck. “Keep ‘em safe for me.”

“Shit,” Adrian pants. “P—” He drops his forehead onto Chris’s shoulder and clings to Chris, right on the edge. He bites down on Chris’s shoulder when he comes.

“Fuck,” Chris swears.

“Sorry,” Adrian says.

“No, it’s—shit, V, that was hot,” Chris says.

“Oh. Really?” Adrian asks. He’s still twitching through it, pressed up against Chris. “I thought you didn’t like when I bite you.”

“Well, I fucking liked that,” Chris says, finally kissing Adrian. He can’t really stop himself from grinding against Adrian’s leg, and Adrian obligingly flexes his quad to give Chris more friction.

“Hang on,” Adrian says. He drops to his knees and unzips Chris’s pants, then he takes off his glasses and hands them up to Chris. “You don’t want cum pants on a stakeout.”

It’s a very good point that Chris’s brain could not think of. He puts Adrian’s glasses on the counter. He’d probably break them if he tried to hold them. He doesn’t last long with Adrian blowing him, especially after Adrian bit him like that. That’s never necessarily been a turn-on for him before, but it definitely worked this time.

He helps Adrian up. Adrian swipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. He’s so fucking hot Chris can’t keep from kissing him, even though he’s never liked tasting himself on someone else’s tongue. It doesn’t even matter. He has to kiss Adrian right now.

“Fuck,” Adrian says when they pull apart. He’s still got his hands on Chris’s waist. “Something going on with you, dude? We don’t normally hook up this often.” He drapes himself all over Chris to reach his glasses on the counter and put them back on, and Chris holds onto him to keep him there for a minute. He’s feeling way more clingy than he usually does after they hook up.

“I don’t know,” Chris admits. “Those fucking pants.”

“I’m not even wearing them right now,” Adrian points out.

That flusters Chris a bit. He doesn’t have a good answer to that. “Well…you were wearing them earlier!”

Adrian laughs a little. “Well, fuck, okay. If they weren’t so tight, I’d say I’ll wear them all the time.”

“You can’t,” Chris says. “Seriously, we’d never get anything done.”

“We’d get a lot of things done,” Adrian counters. “Sex things.”

Chris snorts. “Shit, Ads is probably so pissed.” They untangle themselves. Chris glances at Adrian and starts laughing. “Dude, you got jizz in your hair.”

“What?” Adrian asks. He looks in the mirror. “Aw, man.”

“Oh, my bad,” Chris says. He wiggles his fingers. He’d put his hands in Adrian’s hair while Adrian was blowing him, but he’d forgotten his hand hadn’t exactly been clean.

“Uh, you also, uh…” Adrian winces and points at Chris’s shirt. Chris obviously didn’t catch it all when he was giving Adrian that hand-job.

“Well, that’s incriminating,” Chris says. It makes Adrian laugh. Chris washes his hands and then texts Adebayo an all-clear.

“Here,” Adrian says. He pulls Chris’s shirt over his head and then takes off his own shirt. “Take mine. I have other clothes.”

“Thanks, dude,” Chris says. “Now gimme some cookies.”

“Ugh, I was hoping you forgot,” Adrian says. “I was trying to blow you so good you couldn’t think.”

“Hey, mission accomplished for a little bit,” Chris assures him. Adrian’s not wearing a shirt, and Chris can’t seem to stop touching his back. His skin is warm, just like Chris knew it would be. He’s always warm.

“Why did you tell me it was safe to turn this back on?” Adebayo complains. Adrian jumps.

“No, it’s safe,” Chris promises. “We’re done.”

“I’m going to pretend you were just having a personal conversation,” Adebayo says. “And you are going to bring me three cookies.”

“Three?” Adrian asks, outraged.

“Would you like me to tell Harcourt what just happened?”

“You’re extorting us for cookies?” Chris asks.

“No,” Adebayo says. “I’m blackmailing you for cookies.”

“Blackmail’s info, extortion’s violence,” Adrian explains.

“What?” Chris asks.

“Forget it. But Chris, hurry up and get back here,” Adebayo says. She drops her voice to a whisper. “I can’t even promise Harcourt’s really asleep.”

Chris stuffs a cookie in his mouth and four more in his pockets. Adrian sighs sadly as he watches. Chris swallows the cookie and then kisses Adrian. “There,” he says. “Now you can taste it.” He’s glad he had an excuse for that. He’s kissing Adrian so much lately.

“You could’ve at least baby-birded me some,” Adrian says.

“That’s fucking disgusting,” Chris says, whole face pinching up at the thought of it.

“Oh, come on, dude,” Adrian says. “We’ve had each other’s dicks in our mouths. I don’t think chewed up food is worse than that.”

“It is,” Adebayo says.

“It definitely is,” Chris says.

“Agree to disagree,” Adrian says loftily. He kisses Chris again and squeezes his ass. “Well, okay, bye.” He cracks up while he says, “Thanks for coming.”

Chris nuzzles his face against Adrian’s for a second, surprisingly reluctant to leave. Now he’s thinking about when they woke up all tangled together the other day. Christ, that was just earlier today. It feels like so long ago, and now Chris thinks he should’ve appreciated it more.

“Bye,” he makes himself say. This is getting weird now. It still takes another minute or two to make himself move away from Adrian, and then he looks back just before he walks out.

He’s halfway back to the van when Adebayo says, “Oh, shit, Adrian, they’re coming.”

“Fuck!” Chris cries. “Should I go back and back him up?”

“No, there’s only two of them,” Adebayo says. “They’re—oh. They’re not going inside.”

“What are they doing?” Chris asks, breaking into a run to get back to the van.

Adebayo sighs. “Cross burning on the front lawn. And spray paint on the garage door.”

Chris doesn’t need her to tell him what they’re spray painting. He knows it all too well. After his dad caught him kissing a kid from a few blocks over, he made Chris spray paint that on the kid’s door.

“I can take them out from here,” Adrian says.

“No,” Harcourt says. “No killing until you absolutely have to. This is just intimidation. Where the hell is Chris?”

“Here,” Chris says, opening the van door and climbing back in.

“Where were you?” Harcourt asks.

“I just, uh, went for a little walk,” Chris says.

“We’re in the middle of a fucking stakeout,” Harcourt says.

“Yeah, sorry,” Chris says. Jesus, what the hell was he thinking? That was stupid. And if nothing else, he should’ve said he went out to take a leak. That would be a better excuse than a walk.

“Don’t do it again,” Harcourt orders. “Adrian, don’t do anything. This is good. We’ve got it on camera and we can use it for evidence. But we can’t go hit the safehouse right now. There’s definitely too many of them left there if there are only two here.”

“Fine,” Adrian pouts. “But what if they go do it to one of the other neighbors?” he asks. “They’ll probably be normal people and be really freaked out.”

“Well, the neighbors won’t have to deal with these assholes for much longer,” Harcourt reminds him. “We’re going to take care of it for them.”

Adrian sighs. “Yeah, okay.”

“Maybe you should wake up John,” Adebayo says.

Adrian looks at Economos. He’s got one of those eye-mask things on. “No, I think I should just let him sleep,” Adrian says. “Especially if we’re not even going to do anything. He had a long day.”

Chris doesn’t know why that prickles at him. Or maybe what’s prickling is Chris’s shoulder where Adrian bit him. He bit him pretty fucking hard. It was hot at the time. Now it kind of hurts.

Okay, it’s still hot.

“I don’t like watching this,” Adebayo says quietly. Chris looks over at her. She’s looking at the monitor from the front lawn, mouth downturned. Her eyes look shiny. Chris’s stomach drops.

Harcourt sighs. “I’m sorry,” she says.

Adebayo shakes her head. “I know you can’t do anything about it. And we are going to take care of it. I just…” She sighs.

“I know,” Harcourt says. She squeezes Adebayo’s shoulder. “Want to go lie down and I’ll take over on watch?”

Adebayo takes a deep breath. “No. Thanks. I got it.”

“Ads,” Harcourt says. “You don’t have to tough your way through it, okay? We can switch. They probably won’t be back tonight.”

Adebayo squeezes her eyes shut for a second. She nods. “Thanks,” she says, voice tight. Harcourt gives her shoulder another squeeze.

“We’re a team,” she reminds her with a little smile. “We have each other’s backs.”

“Are you okay, Adebayo?” Adrian asks.

“It’s not like it’s a surprise,” Adebayo says. “I knew it’d be tough going in. I’ll be okay.”

“When we get to kill them, I’ll hold some down for you, if you want,” Adrian offers.

“Dude,” Chris says judgmentally.

“We’ll see,” Adebayo says.

“Oh,” Chris says, a little surprised.

“I never said I wasn’t a fan of vengeance,” Adebayo says.

Chris sits beside her on the seat. He glances at Harcourt, who’s got her attention on the monitors. He slips Adebayo her cookies. They’re pretty smashed from the trip in Chris’s pocket. Adebayo smiles a little when she sees them.

He kind of feels like he wants to apologize to her, just in general. He never fought back against his dad’s tirades. He knew his dad was doing shit like this and never did anything about it, not even when he was an adult. Hell, he didn’t even stop talking to his dad or using the equipment his dad made him.

But he doesn’t think an apology from him will actually make Adebayo feel better. It’s probably better if he just keeps his mouth shut. Instead, he makes sure to sit with her. They don’t talk. He feels like she doesn’t want to talk right now.

Chris knocks his shoulder into hers. She knocks her shoulder back into his. He tries to break off a crumb of one of the cookies and she kicks him. He puts his arm around her, just for a second, and she leans into him. She nods when he lets go and he nods back.

This mission felt a lot easier in the abstract, when his dad’s followers were just his dad’s followers they were going to take out. Now, seeing it happening, seeing it affect Adebayo, it feels a lot more personal. It should’ve felt personal all along, but Chris was letting himself keep it all at a distance. He can’t do that anymore.

He’s always wanted peace. It’s about time he actually went after the people disrupting it the worst.

Chapter Text

Adrian goes outside first thing in the morning and starts trying to wash the spray paint off the garage. He’s not having much luck. Economos goes out and stands next to him. He sighs when he sees it.

“So that’s why you didn’t wake me up last night.”

“Yeah,” Adrian says. He tips his head toward the charred cross on the lawn. “And that.”

“Fuck,” Economos says. “So Christian.”

“Yeah, I never got that part,” Harcourt says. “Shouldn’t they not want to burn a cross?”

“They hate Catholics, too,” Chris says. “My dad had a dartboard made out of a picture of the Pope.”

“Oh, my God!” a woman’s voice cries out from Adrian and Economos’s side of the comms. It’s Leslie, the cookie lady. “Oh, my God, who did this?”

Adrian and Economos look at each other. “We’re not sure,” Economos lies.

Leslie purses her lips. “This is awful. I didn’t think this sort of thing happened in our kind of neighborhood.”

“This happens in every kind of neighborhood,” Adrian says. His voice is uncharacteristically quiet. “Kids did this to my house in high school.”

“Is that real?” Harcourt asks.

“Yeah,” Chris says, heart sinking.

He forgot about that. Harcourt looks at him, question on her face. Chris shakes his head. That wasn’t his dad, luckily. Not that he knows, anyway, and his dad would’ve known it was Gut’s house and definitely would’ve told Chris to taunt him about it. But Adrian’s family had more than just Auggie’s gang after them when it became public knowledge why his dad left.

“That is horrible,” Leslie says. “We should call the police.”

“Oh, no,” Economos says quickly. They don’t want the cops coming in and fucking up their mission. “They just did this to try to scare us out of the neighborhood. We don’t want…to give them the satisfaction.”

“And police are pretty useless anyway,” Adrian adds.

Leslie looks a little taken aback. “Oh. Well. You know what, I think Trevor has some paint leftover from when we touched up our trim. Should be the same color. Let me go get that for you.”

“Thanks,” Economos calls after her. He looks at Adrian. “Dude, I didn’t know that. That really fucking sucks.”

“Yeah,” Adrian says. “They wrote it on my locker at school, too. When they did it to our house it was because my dad ran off with his boyfriend. But my locker was about me after a guy on the football team told everybody I sucked dick. Which I did, obviously. But he only knew that because I sucked his dick, so like, what the fuck!”

”Oh, Adrian,” Adebayo sighs.

“And your principal didn’t do anything,” Economos guesses. “Just like with the pedo teacher.”

Adrian snorts. “Yeah.”

”Who was the guy on the football team?” Chris demands. He might have to go pay some loser a visit.

”He’s dead,” Adrian says carelessly.

”My God,” Harcourt mutters.

”I didn’t do it!” Adrian insists. “He got in a car crash.”

”Did you cut his brakes?” Economos asks.

Adrian elbows him. ”If I’m going to kill someone, they’re going to know it’s me. But people in Evergreen can die from other stuff than me, you know.”

”Well, it seems like you’re trying really hard to be the only cause of death around here,” Harcourt says.

Leslie comes back with the paint, a little out of breath. Chris appreciates her hustle. There’s a guy trailing behind her. “Hi, there,” he says. “I’m Trevor. Leslie’s husband.”

Adrian glances at Economos, eyebrows raised. “Oh,” he says. “A husband.”

Trevor shakes Adrian’s hand and winces a little, so Adrian obviously still squeezed way too hard. He shakes Economos’s hand, too. “Really sorry to see this,” he says, and he actually sounds sincere. “Let me take care of that for you.”

“That’s alright,” Economos says. “We can do it.”

“No, I insist,” Leslie says. “We don’t want this in our neighborhood. And we don’t want you thinking the rest of us agree. So Trevor’s going to paint that and I’m going to clean up this mess in the yard.”

“Thank you,” Economos says. He and Adrian stand there awkwardly while Leslie and Trevor clean up. Adrian fidgets. He always fidgets when he feels awkward. Or happy. Or bored.

“Well, they’re nicer than I thought,” Adebayo admits.

“Still think she wants to fuck Adrian,” Chris says.

“Just because you do doesn’t mean everyone else does, too,” Harcourt says.

“You’re the one who put him in those tight pants!” Chris says defensively.

“And speaking of, if you can’t keep it in your pants even on a fucking mission, I will kick you off this task force,” Harcourt says. “No more leaving a stakeout to go play grab-ass.”

“Wha…?” Chris sputters. Adrian winces up at the camera on the garage door.

“Do you think I’m stupid? You came back to the van wearing the shirt Adrian was wearing before I went to sleep, and you had the cookies that lady brought over.”

“I forgot you’re really good at your job,” Chris says. “Sorry. We won’t do it again.”

“Sorry,” Adrian murmurs, quiet enough for the neighbors not to hear. “Not on a mission.”

That makes Chris laugh a little. Yeah, Adrian’s got a point. They’ll definitely do it again. Just not on a mission.

“That’s where all the fucking cookies went,” Economos mutters.

Just when Leslie and Trevor are finishing up and about to leave, a woman comes out from the house next door. She’s holding a little kid’s hand. “Hi,” she says. “Is everyone okay over here?”

“We’re fine,” Economos promises.

“What an awful thing to do,” she says, shaking her head. “I’m Ashley. This is Jason.” She gives the kid’s hand a little shake. He sticks a finger from his other hand up his nose. “We’re going to have a barbeque tomorrow night. You should come. There are more of us who are happy to have you here than aren’t, okay?”

“Absolutely,” Leslie agrees.

“Um…” Economos glances toward the camera.

“Yeah, I don’t see any problem with that,” Harcourt says.

“Sweet,” Adrian says. “I love barbeque.”

“Should we bring anything?” Economos asks.

“No, don’t you worry about it,” Ashley says. “You’re the newest neighbors, so let the rest of us handle all that. You can meet everyone!”

“Great,” Economos says, way less enthusiastic than Ashley.

All the neighbors leave and Economos and Adrian go inside. Economos looks in the fridge. It’s empty. Chris doesn’t know why he bothered—who did he think would’ve put anything in there?

“We should probably buy food,” Economos says.

“Okay,” Adrian says. He’s obviously not really listening. He’s flopped down on the carpet and his eyes are drooping.

“How about I go buy some food,” Economos says. “You can take a nap.” He crosses the room and pokes Adrian in the ribs with a toe. “Any requests?”

Adrian bats at Economos’s foot. “I like chicken. And green beans. And peanut butter and jelly. But only on white bread. None of that seed shit.”

“Got it,” Economos says.

“Chicken breasts,” Adrian clarifies. “Not breaded. Don’t get unhealthy stuff! My body is a fucking fortress of pain, dude, I need a lot of protein to keep it up.”

“That sounded so kinky,” Adebayo says. “Fortress of pain. Gimme a break.”

“No, not in a kinky way,” Adrian says, yawning. “Just in a regular cool way.”

“Oh, yeah, very cool,” Harcourt says with a snort.

“White bread isn’t very healthy,” Chris points out.

“Okay, fine, but I just can’t handle the gross kind,” Adrian says, eyes all the way closed now and voice slow the way it gets when he’s on the edge of consciousness.

He falls asleep before anyone can tease him more. Chris catches himself almost smiling at the sight of him. He bites down on that. He does not need everyone on his back about it. Economos gets dressed and leaves.

That leaves Chris, Harcourt, and Adebayo with nothing to do but watch Adrian sleep, pretty much. It’s not like Economos took a camera with him to the store. They do rock, paper, scissors over who has to go get food from the weird coffee shop. Adebayo loses. She comes back with pretty much the same stuff Chris got yesterday.

“This is already getting old,” Harcourt sighs. “Whoever thinks undercover work is sexy has never done it.”

“Probably depends on the undercover work,” Chris points out. “Maybe some spies get to have sex.”

“Chris had a sexy time last night,” Adebayo says conversationally. Harcourt shoots him a glare. Chris passes it on to Adebayo.

“And to think, I brought you all those cookies.”

Adebayo smiles at him sweetly. “Thank you. But you did leave my sweatshirt there.”

”Uh, yeah,” Chris remembers. “I’ll have to…look for that.” He can’t remember if it was a casualty of Adrian’s jizz like his shirt was.

Economos calls Chris. He’s out of range of the comms. Chris puts Economos on speaker. “Does Adrian like crunchy or smooth peanut butter?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Chris asks. “I’m going to guess smooth.”

“Based on?” Adebayo asks.

“He doesn’t like a lot of crunchy stuff because he says it’s too loud in his head,” Chris says. He shrugs. “Basically, think of the weirdest answer for anything, and that’s Adrian.”

“So he doesn’t eat cereal?” Economos asks.

“Not cold cereal,” Chris says. “For some reason, he counts oatmeal as cereal. He likes that.”

“Like the instant kind?”

“Flavored?” Chris says judgmentally. “That shit’s loaded with sugar, dude.”

“Okay, jeez,” Economos says. “Didn’t realize you two are nutritionists.”

“You don’t get bodies like ours without taking care of them,” Chris points out.

“I bet you flex a lot in the mirror, huh,” Adebayo says. Chris flips her off.

“Does he at least eat sauce on his chicken?” Economos asks.

“Oh, yeah,” Chris says, making a face. “Get this. Ketchup.”

“On chicken?” Harcourt asks.

“On everything,” Chris confirms. “There is nothing Adrian likes as much as tomato-based sauces.” This time he really can’t hold back his smile. That’s almost a direct quote from Adrian.

“Guess he works at the right place,” Adebayo says.

“Hey, Economos, get him some protein bars, too,” Chris says. “Not shakes, he doesn’t like those. But he likes the ones that are basically candy bars with extra protein. When he’s fighting he gets super hungry and protein bars are easy.”

“Probably the metahuman healing thing,” Economos muses. “He passes out and his body burns through all the fuel he had before.”

“Yeah, after he gets stabbed he’ll usually eat a whole pizza,” Chris confirms.

“How often is this happening?” Adebayo asks.

“Well, it won’t happen as often anymore,” Chris says. Then he considers and says, “Maybe.”

Economos stops by the parking lot and the van before he heads back to the house. “I figured you were getting tired of weird probiotic food,” he says, handing over a bag.

“Aw, John!” Adebayo says. “Would you like the last cookie?”

“You mean the last of the cookies my neighbor brought for me?”

“Okay, never mind,” Adebayo says. “You can’t have it if you’re going to be snotty.”

He laughs and takes half. He brought them some boxed salads, some protein bars, a loaf of bread, peanut butter and jelly, and some chips and candy. Not enough to live on or anything, but okay to get them through the mission. Hopefully. As long as it doesn’t go on much longer.

Adrian wakes up about an hour after Economos gets back and makes a pleased little noise at the protein bars. “This is my favorite kind, dude! Thanks.”

“Yeah, Chris knew that one,” Economos says. He raises his eyebrows at the camera. “Knew a lot of your favorites.”

Adrian shrugs, unwrapping a protein bar. “Yeah, he’s my BFF.”

”You think that’s normal friend behavior?” Harcourt asks.

”Uh, yeah.”

“I don’t know my best friend’s favorite brand of toothpaste,” Economos says.

“Maybe you’re not a very good friend,” Chris shoots back. He feels weird. He wouldn’t have helped if he’d known they were all going to make such a big deal about him knowing what Adrian likes.

“Maybe you just don’t spend enough time with your BFF,” Adrian says. “My brother only gets to see his best friend twice a year because he moved to Florida. Me and P live in the same town, so we hang out all the time.”

“Maybe,” Economos says. He’s got a look on his face that Chris can’t read but doesn’t like on principle.

“You bought an awful lot of chips,” Adrian says, eyes narrowed. “What did I say about the chips?”

“You can go ahead and fuck right off,” Economos says.

“I don’t want you to die!” Adrian insists.

“You worry about your fortress of pain, let me worry about mine,” Economos says.

Adrian heaves a sigh. “Fine.”

They spend the afternoon playing Go Fish. Economos tries to teach Adrian to play poker, but it’s hard with just the two of them. They eat chicken for dinner while Chris, Adebayo, and Harcourt settle for peanut butter and jelly.

They don’t get any more burning crosses or slurs the second night. It’s actually kind of boring. Which is a good thing, Chris reminds himself. Boring is better than getting ambushed.

Chris’s turn on watch has him feeling restless. He wishes he could go back to the house and spend his turn on watch with Adrian. Even if they just watched a boring documentary or something, they’d find a way to make it fun.

His phone buzzes. It’s Adrian. Chris snorts and looks at the camera. Adrian’s sitting by the window with his phone out.

I’m bored.

Chris laughs a little. Me too.

Let’s play 20 questions, Adrian suggests.

Okay. Me first. What are you wearing?

Adrian looks at the camera, confused. “You can see what I’m wearing,” he whispers.

Chris rolls his eyes and sticks to texting. Like in a sexy way, dude.

“Oh,” Adrian says. “Right.” He sends back, Underwear.

That makes Chris laugh for real. He glances behind him to make sure he didn’t wake up Harcourt or Adebayo. They’re both still asleep. I don’t think you get the point of this game.

Not really, Adrian admits.

Trying to make you horny, Chris says.

Oh!!!! I already am. Good job!

Chris shakes his head, but he’s got a huge smile on his face. Adrian’s such a dork. Guess we shouldn’t get too horny, he points out. Can’t jerk off.

“I can,” Adrian murmurs. “I could go in the bathroom.”

“Well, I can’t,” Chris whispers. “I’d have to go outside and I’d probably get arrested.”

“Again,” Adrian points out.

“Again,” Chris agrees.

Adrian sighs. Okay fine, he texts. I won’t jerk off. Solidarity.

Good bcuz if you did I’d know and get blue balls, Chris says.

Adrian laughs. Can’t do that to you. That’s too mean. 🧜

Chris rolls his eyes. Before he can text anything back, Harcourt touches his shoulder. He jumps. “Holy shit,” he barks. “You scared the fuck out of me.”

“It’s time to switch,” she says. “Anything?”

“Nothing,” Chris reports, trying to calm his heart down. Not great for his reputation of being aware of his surroundings. He goes to the back of the van and lies down. As soon as he closes his eyes, his phone buzzes.

Goodnight, Adrian says. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite. OMG, there really could be bedbugs in there since it used to be a vet van!!! Don’t get fleas.

Chris shakes his head, grinning. Won’t get fleas. Too tough, they can’t bite me.

Wow!!!

Chris laughs again. Goodnight.

😘

Chris stares at the emoji for a long time. He’s not laughing anymore. It’s a kiss. He gets that. And they’ve kissed. They’ve been kissing a lot in the past few days. So it’s fine. It’s not weird. Adrian likes emojis. His texts are always full of them, even more than just the merman. There’s no reason for Chris’s heart to be pounding the way it is.

His hands are almost shaking. This is so ridiculous. He locks his phone and puts it down. He doesn’t have to respond. It’s just an emoji. He falls asleep uneasily. He tells himself it’s because of how uncomfortable the van is.

Chapter Text

Adrian seems totally normal in the morning, so he either didn’t notice or didn’t care that Chris didn’t respond in any way to the kissing emoji. So it’s fine. Nothing happened. Chris freaked out over nothing.

It’s a boring day, for the most part. Adrian and Economos mostly just sit around. Chris goes into the coffee shop to use their bathroom and has to buy an acai cluster to get the key. It’s actually pretty good. He buys another one.

”Those are my favorite,” the girl behind the counter tells him with a grin. “Good, right?”

”Yeah, good,” he agrees. “Way better than I thought they’d be. I didn’t know what acai was.” He gives a self-deprecating little chuckle. He feels like he forgot how to talk to people after a few days of hiding in the van.

”Oh, my God, don’t even worry about it,” she tells him. “I didn’t either before I started working here!”

When he gets back in the van, Adebayo says, “Uh, whose number is that?”

”What?”

”Think the coffee girl gave you her number,” Adebayo says, pointing at the napkin Chris hadn’t looked at. And there it is—a phone number. “Seriously, the only woman you’ve talked to in three days and you still get her number.”

”Huh,” Chris says. “I didn’t even try to flirt with her.”

No one says anything for a beat. No one even teases him about getting her number. Something feels kind of weird about all this. They didn’t even really have a conversation. Normally he lays it on thick if he wants a number.

When he finishes his acai cluster, he throws the napkin away with the rest of the trash. Harcourt raises her eyebrows. “You threw away her number?” she asks. “You threw out a number from someone within 1000 miles who wants to have sex with you?”

Chris shrugs. “She seemed pretty young,” he points out. “I think it might be time I gave up on the 20-year-olds.”

”Is that so?” Harcourt asks. She glances toward the monitor. Chris follows her gaze and sees that Adrian’s smiling way too big for the cards he has in his second poker lesson with Economos.

”Dude,” Chris says. “You either forgot the rules or you’re bluffing super well.”

”Shh, P, quit it!” Adrian scolds. “No cheating!”

Finally, it’s almost time for the barbeque. Adrian and Economos both take showers and start getting ready. Adrian puts gel in his hair and leaves the top few buttons of his shirt unbuttoned again, and he’s in those damn pants. It’s making Chris’s mouth go dry.

Harcourt and Adebayo are both looking at Chris while Adrian gets ready. He’s doing it right in front of the camera instead of in the bathroom, and Chris is almost positive he’s doing it on purpose to torture Chris.

“Looking good, Adrian,” Adebayo says, smirking at Chris.

“Thanks,” Adrian says, grinning.

“I think while they’re at the barbeque, we’re safe to clear out for a few hours,” Harcourt says. “We can go home and grab showers. Eat something we didn’t get in a box.”

“That sounds heavenly,” Adebayo says. “And I can surprise Keeya.”

“Gonna have a quickie, huh?” Chris wiggles his eyebrows.

“I don’t think you get to be judgmental about quickies for a while, Christopher.”

“Who was being judgmental?” Chris asks. “I never judge anyone for quickies.”

“He loves quickies,” Adrian agrees. “And afternoon delight. I don’t really get why it would be better in the afternoon than any other time, but whatever.”

“I think that’s enough on that topic,” Harcourt says. “I really do not want to think about any of you having sex.”

“Not even me?” Chris asks.

“Oh, especially you. I know way too much about your sex life already.”

Chris pouts a little. Economos comes down the stairs in his undercover clothes. “Look at you, dude!” Adrian says. “You look hot.”

Economos snorts. “Okay.”

“You do,” Adrian says. “I’m not teasing you.”

“Oh.” Economos looks a little surprised. Chris thinks about all the stuff he said to the butterfly about his beard and no one ever noticing him. It gives him a stomachache when he remembers it.

“He’s right,” Chris says, and it really is true. Economos looks good. “Maybe Leslie’ll go for a threesome.”

“Ooh, yeah, we could both be bi,” Adrian says. “But she has a husband. Do people have foursomes in real life or is that only in porn?”

“Lucky people do,” Chris bluffs. He tried it once. It was actually really stressful, even though he’s had threesomes. One more person added way more stress and too many limbs, and he kept getting confused about who was doing what. Threesomes with Adrian always feel like a team effort. The one time he tried a foursome, it felt like a competition, and he was not winning.

He really doesn’t want them to have a foursome. Or a threesome. He doesn’t think it would be a good idea. It wouldn’t really be fair to Leslie if they have sex with her when she doesn’t even know who they really are.

The bigger part of his discomfort is centered around Adrian, and Chris is just not letting himself think about it right now. That’s a big thing to think about. He can’t do that with other people around.

“No, thank you,” Economos says, and Chris holds in his sigh of relief. “I told you. I’m not into dudes.”

“I would also advise you not to have an affair with a married woman in a suburb,” Harcourt says. “Don’t you guys read the news or watch any of those cop shows? Murder, every time.”

“I’m not really worried,” Adrian says with a little laugh.

“Remember that lady last year who poisoned her husband’s mistress?” Adebayo says. “Adrian, can you survive poison?”

“Fuck, I don’t know,” Adrian says. “Maybe we should test it out.”

“Let’s not,” Harcourt says. “At least not unless we’re in a hospital.”

“Safer to just not sleep with her,” Chris says.

“Yeah, guess you’re right,” Adrian says.

Adebayo and Harcourt both look at Chris, but he ignores them. Adebayo pulls the van out of the parking lot just as Economos and Adrian leave the house. They’re holding hands.

“Oh, what—you’re holding hands?” Chris blurts.

“Uh, yeah,” Economos says. “We’re an engaged couple whose neighbors all know we experienced a hate crime two nights ago. I think holding hands is called for.”

“Yeah, your undercover identities are,” Chris says. “Sure.”

Adebayo is outright laughing at him now. “I think that makes so much sense,” she says. Traitor.

“Oh,” Adrian says under his breath. “Real estate lady’s here.”

“Interesting,” Harcourt says. “So either the neighborhood doesn’t know she’s a Nazi, or they’re all way better actors than I thought.”

“If they’re purposefully building up some kind of Aryan subdivision, I think we got bigger problems than we knew,” Adebayo points out.

“Yeah, that would not be encouraging,” Harcourt agrees. “And we’d have to rethink our whole mission.”

“The houses are close enough together to torch them all,” Chris says.

“We are not torching a whole neighborhood,” Harcourt says.

“Boo,” Adrian says. Chris snorts.

The van gets out of range of the comms after that, and Adrian and Economos are in the neighbor’s yard without cameras. Not being able to see or hear them is surprisingly nerve-wracking. The mission feels a lot more dangerous now that Chris really looked at that burning cross on the lawn and actually considered just how many people these Nazis have hurt, one way or another.

He reminds himself that Adrian has at least one knife on him. Adrian can do more damage with one little knife than a lot of people can do with an arsenal. And Economos may not be Chris’s very first choice in the field, but he can point and shoot. He might have a gun on him. It’s possible. He’s definitely proven he can improvise, at least, so that’s helpful.

Harcourt gives them instructions to be back at HQ in four hours. Chris takes Adrian’s car home. Adrian left the keys with him for safekeeping. Eagly chitters happily when Chris comes in.

“Hi, my boy,” Chris croons at him. “How’s my buddy?”

Eagly follows him around the trailer while he eats and gathers up some more weapons. You can never be too prepared. Eagly even waits outside the bathroom door while Chris takes a shower.

“I’m sorry, bud, did you miss me?” Chris asks when he gets out. “You’re not going to be happy when I leave again, huh?” He gives Eagly another head rub and then opens the door to let him out for a few hours.

Chris pauses while he’s getting dressed. He doesn’t let himself think too hard before he puts Adrian’s shirt back on. It’s too small, but he doesn’t care. He tells himself it’s because it’s still mostly clean, and there’s no reason to waste a clean shirt.

He wore it while he was sleeping both nights, but he changed during the day. He doesn’t take any time to consider why he did that.

He still has three hours before he has to be back at HQ, so he flops down onto his bed. The van is far from comfortable for sleeping. He rolls his face into the pillows and falls asleep wondering if that’s Adrian he can smell on his sheets.

Chris wakes up with half an hour until he has to be back at HQ. He yawns and gives himself ten minutes before he needs to go whistle for Eagly. He doesn’t stop himself from grabbing his phone and texting Adrian.

All good at the barbeque?

It takes a while for Adrian to text back, long enough that Chris is up and moving around again when the answer comes. No burgers, only hotdogs. 😢😢

Chris snorts. Adrian stopped eating hotdogs when he was nine and Gut told him they were made out of pig assholes. Even after all these years, he won’t budge. Nothing else for you to eat? Chris asks. He whistles for Eagly. A gopher hits the ground before Chris notices Eagly overhead.

“Oh, thank you,” Chris tells him. “Eat it fast, dude. I gotta go.”

I ate a plain bun. White bread so I know it’s just carbs but I was hungry!! Put ketchup on it so it tasted better.

Chris laughs. “Ah, man,” he murmurs to himself. He can hear Adrian’s voice saying all this in his head. Are you being super normal? Chris is kind of bummed he doesn’t get to at least hear Adrian trying to talk to these suburb people at a backyard barbeque. It’s probably hilarious. Maybe Economos took some video.

So normal!!!! Adrian says. I asked three people and they all said I seemed normal. Chris cracks up laughing. He can absolutely picture Adrian asking people how normal he’s being.

Asking people if you’re normal isn’t very normal dude.

Well, fuck, Adrian says. These people are liars???

Probably just trying to be nice, Chris explains.

It’s nicer to tell me when I’m being weird so I don’t keep doing it, Adrian says. You always tell me when I’m weird.

Chris wonders for a second if that’s a passive-aggressive dig. You’re weird all the time, he tells Adrian. But he feels kind of bad, especially if Adrian’s hinting that it hurts his feelings—even though he’d never admit even if Chris asked—so Chris adds, Not bad weird. Funny and interesting.

You’re probably the only one who doesn’t think bad weird, Adrian says. Other people always think I’m bad weird.

Chris frowns. Adrian doesn’t always pick up on people’s social cues, but sometimes Chris forgets that Adrian understands more than he lets on. And there’s always the possibility that people come right out and tell Adrian he’s being weird in a bad way. Fuck them, he says.

That’s a lot of people to fuck. I’ll need to stay hydrated. 😜

Chris laughs and rolls his eyes. Adrian always thinks puns like that are hilarious. Chris will never admit that he kind of does, too. Especially the ones about fucking. Neighbors are going to think Tanner’s cheating on John if we keep texting.

Tanner would never!!!! Adrian insists.

I know. Joke dude.

Adrian texts for a while. Chris prepares himself for a brick of text. Usually Adrian will just text four or five times in a row instead of one long text if he’s excited, but sometimes he gets on a roll and doesn’t realize how long one text is.

But all Chris gets back is, I wouldn’t either.

Chris doesn’t know why that makes his heart speed up. It feels like Adrian’s saying—Chris stops himself. They’re not in a relationship. They never have been. They’ve never even talked about it. There’s nothing to talk about, anyway. They hang out, and sometimes when they hang out they bang. It’s an arrangement that’s working for them.

“Back inside, buddy,” Chris tells Eagly. His voice comes out weak. His palms are sweating. It’s like last night with the kiss emoji all over again. Maybe they should quit texting altogether. It’s only causing problems.

He has no idea what to say back to Adrian. He can’t just ignore texts two days in a row. Can he? He can’t pretend he fell asleep this time. He probably needs to say something back.

But what does he say? Does he point out it sounds like Adrian’s suggesting something? Or does that make it seem like Chris is trying to suggest something? He doesn’t want Adrian to think he wants to change things if that’s not what Adrian meant.

Wait, no. He doesn’t want to change things even if that is what Adrian meant. Right? Right.

There’s no reason to complicate things with all these weird emotions he keeps having. Adrian hasn’t even given any indication he’s feeling anything different the past few days, so Chris would probably just embarrass himself if he even tried to bring it up. And the last thing Chris wants to do is fuck up the good thing they’ve got going.

Heading back to the van, he tells Adrian. Does it seem like he’s changing the subject? Chris doesn’t want Adrian to think he’s being weird. Jesus, he’s overthinking this. Adrian’s probably never going to notice if Chris is acting weird. Chris adds the merman emoji, hoping Adrian gets a big enough kick out of it to just go back to normal.

My merman! Adrian says. Wish you could come visit again.

Chris can’t keep the grin off his face when he thinks about their little bathroom tryst. Maybe it was hotter because it was such a bad idea. Like those people who get off on fucking in public or whatever. Chris has never actually liked having an audience who wasn’t actively participating, but maybe it’s about the thrill or something. Me too.

He gets Eagly back inside and gets back to HQ. He’s on time this time. He’s not exactly loving the stakeout or anything, but at least he gets to see Adrian on the monitors. It’s not what he wants, but it’s better than not seeing Adrian at all.

Chapter Text

Adrian and Economos are back at the house and Chris, Adebayo, and Harcourt are back in their cozy parking spot. Adrian and Economos are debriefing the barbeque. So far it’s just been Adrian complaining about the food. The brownies had nuts in them, which is apparently unforgivable.

”That didn’t stop you from eating four of them,” Economos points out.

”Well, I needed something on my plate or that old lady was going to try to make me eat that weird salad again,” Adrian complains. “It was like apples and marshmallows and raisins? There is no way I would ever put that in my mouth, but I guess it’s rude to say no.”

”Did that lady say you seemed normal?” Chris asks.

”No,” Adrian says. He makes a face. “I even asked her. She said I was a very strange young man.”

Chris cracks up laughing. Adebayo’s trying to be a little nicer, so she’s hiding it, but she’s laughing, too. Economos says, “Oh, is that why she asked if I knew a good divorce attorney?”

”Aw, man, that’s so rude!” Adrian says. “She doesn’t think Tanner and John are going to make it before they're even married.”

Adebayo shoots Chris a look. He rolls his eyes at her. He’s not some kind of freak who can’t tell when Adrian’s sticking to his undercover backstory. Sure, maybe he felt a little twinge in his stomach, but it’s not like Adrian and Economos are actually into each other.

And it’s not like it would matter if they were. Chris can only think it half-heartedly. Convincing himself to stop feeling his feelings isn’t working as well as it usually does. He’s too tired from shitty van sleep and naps.

“Can we get to anything relevant?” Harcourt asks. “If nothing relevant happened, fine, you can tell us more about the nose-picking kid, but I’m just wondering if you got any intel out of this.”

“I don’t think any of the neighbors knew the real estate lady was a Nazi,” Economos says.

“Yeah, I don’t think they know about any Nazis at all,” Adrian agrees. “Leslie was talking to me a lot and she kept saying something about how the people who live there wouldn’t take her cookies, but she didn’t say anything about bigotry. Just normal rudeness.”

“Leslie would not let him out of her sight,” Economos says with a laugh. “She definitely wants to fuck him.”

“Poor Trevor,” Adrian says.

“Maybe she just likes that you’re unattainable,” Adebayo suggests. “Some women are into that.”

“Yeah, wants what she definitely can’t have,” Chris says. Okay, this is more than a twinge. Because he’s pretty sure Leslie is actually into Adrian.

Not that it matters. Because they just bang sometimes. It may not be working as well as usual, but Chris is going to keep trying. Mastery through repetition or something.

Adebayo looks at him. “Definitely, huh?”

Chris sputters for a second. “Well, he—they’re on a mission, you know.”

“Didn’t stop you,” Harcourt mutters.

“Leslie made us kiss in front of everyone,” Adrian says.

Chris whips his head around to look at the monitor. “You guys kissed?”

“Yeah, it was weird,” Adrian says.

“Wow, thanks a lot,” Economos says. “Sarcasm, by the way.”

“It’s weird for anyone to make a big deal about you kissing in front of a bunch of people,” Adrian defends himself.

“It was pretty weird,” Economos admits. “And the real estate lady almost lost it.”

“Well, hopefully that’s good for us,” Harcourt says. “We need that info sooner than later.”

“Maybe I could sneak into the house and do recon,” Adrian suggests.

“No,” Harcourt says. “Do not do anything to spook them.”

Adrian groans and flops back on the couch. “This is not what I thought I’d be doing on an undercover mission.”

“What did you think you’d be doing?” Adebayo asks.

“I don’t know! Cool spy shit. James Bond stuff. Blowing up buildings in a sick suit.”

Harcourt snorts. “Sorry to rain on your parade.”

“First no chainsaw, then you keep me and P apart for the whole mission and Eagly couldn’t even come with us at all, and now I’m just sitting around in uncomfortable clothes listening to people talk about the fucking PTA.”

“We’re stuck in the fucking van,” Harcourt points out. “Do you really want to trade?”

Adrian heaves a sigh and flops dramatically again. “No.” Then he sits up. “Can’t I at least go for a run? Normal people do that, right?”

Harcourt considers that for a second. “I guess that’s true. And you’ve still got about an hour of daylight, so I assume you’ve got time before the Nazis come back.”

“And then I’ll be even more ready to fight them because my adrenaline will already be going,” Adrian says.

“Okay,” Harcourt says. “Jesus, why is this job just grownup babysitting? Murn tried to warn me.”

“John, you want in?” Adrian asks, shooting up off the couch.

“Pass,” Economos says. “I’m going to go through the footage from the other night with the burning cross and see if there are any clear faces.”

Adrian pats the top of Economos’s head as he goes by. It makes Chris twitch a little. Adrian’s not really a touchy kind of guy, most of the time. What, he’s just into casually touching Economos now?

“You should condition your beard, by the way,” Adrian tells him as he heads up the stairs. “It’s way too prickly. Not fun on my face.”

“Okay, sure,” Economos says sarcastically. “I’ll be sure to add beard oil to my regiment to protect your delicate skin.”

“Thanks!” Adrian tosses over his shoulder.

”Oh, right, I didn’t tell him it was sarcasm that time,” Economos says. He sighs.

“Can I go for a run, too?” Chris asks. He feels like he’s crawling out of his skin, being stuck in the van. It’s probably why his feelings are going haywire. He’s getting stir-crazy.

Harcourt gives him an unimpressed look. “What did I say about keeping it in your pants?”

“I just meant actually run!” Chris says defensively. “I’m an everyday workout guy, too, you know.”

Harcourt hesitates. “Well, it would be safer if he doesn’t go alone. But if the Nazis follow him and see you, it’ll blow our cover.”

“We can just kill them if they see us,” Adrian says.

“What if you don’t know they’re following you?” Adebayo asks.

Chris and Adrian make offended noises at the same time. “You think I don’t know when I’m being followed?” Chris demands.

“How do you think I’ve never been caught?” Adrian says.

“Okay, okay, sorry,” Adebayo says.

“Fine,” Harcourt says. “But at least move the body out of sight until we can get an ARGUS cleanup crew. And stay within comms range.”

“Sweet!” Adrian says excitedly. “I hope they do follow us.”

Chris didn’t really bring his usual workout clothes, but he pretty much lives in clothes he can run in anyway. He changes out of Adrian’s shirt. He’s not sure why, but he just feels super weird about Adrian knowing he’s still wearing it.

He stretches a bit while he waits for Adrian to get out of the neighborhood. Adrian comes around the corner and grins when he sees Chris. He waves, even though Chris obviously saw him, and then he calls out brightly,

“Hey, P!”

Chris wants to think it’s dorky and stupid, but he can’t wipe the smile off his own face. They went almost two days without seeing each other in person. They haven't gone that long apart since Chris has been back. Chris stops himself from saying hi back, though. He has a limit to how much dorkiness he’ll allow himself to show.

He starts running beside Adrian and knocks into him. Adrian laughs wildly and hip-checks him. “Hey, I’m running here,” Chris says, fake offended.

Adrian laughs again and kicks him. “Run over that.”

They elbow each other a few more times and then settle down into their run. They don’t purposefully run together very much; usually, if they’re running, they’re being chased. Sometimes they lift or spar together, but Adrian’s a lot more into running than Chris ever has been.

Still, it feels good to stretch his legs after being cooped up in the van so much. And it’s familiar, running beside Adrian, even if there’s none of the usual urgency.

“Oh, guess what? That lady Ashley from next door had vegan hotdogs,” Adrian reveals.

“What the fuck?” Chris asks. “What were they made out of?”

“She said beans,” Adrian says. “Bean hotdogs.”

“Bean wieners,” Chris says. “Like Beanie Weenies, but fancy.”

Adrian cracks up laughing without even breaking stride. “She tried to give me one and I was like no way, lady. I know hotdogs are always the undesirable parts.”

Now Chris is cracking up. “Dude, you were worried about bean assholes? That’s not even a thing!”

“Not bean assholes!” Adrian insists. “Just gross parts of the bean. I mean, if beans have gross parts. Like, I still don’t know what the sprout thing is.”

“Oh, man, we’re parked by that weird coffee place and we ate sandwiches but the bread didn’t have wheat because of gluten or whatever,” Chris says. “They had bean sprouts all over.”

“My mom made me try going gluten-free once,” Adrian says. “She thought it would make me less weird.”

“How would that make you less weird?” Chris asks incredulously.

“I don’t know,” Adrian says. “But it made my shit really weird.”

They’re both laughing at that. “Have you two ever had a conversation that didn’t involve shit?” Adebayo asks in their ears. Adrian yelps a little. They both kind of forgot about the comms.

“Yes,” Adrian says.

“Or assholes,” Economos says.

They look at each other for a second. “Maybe,” Chris says.

“Yes,” Adrian says. “Of course.”

“Give us an example,” Harcourt says.

They’re both quiet for a second. “We are running,” Chris says. “We can’t be wasting our energy on your weird questions.”

“When we were talking to Goff,” Adrian says triumphantly.

“No,” Chris says. “Assholes.” They had some questions about probing.

“Oh, yeah,” Adrian says.

Chris is opening his mouth when the hair on the back of his neck prickles. Adrian reaches out with his elbow and bumps Chris without laughing, so Chris knows he felt it too. They’re definitely being followed. He listens hard and can hear an extra set of feet hitting the pavement behind them, not quite in time with their strides. Whoever they are, they’re pretty good.

“Okay, someone’s following us,” Chris says quietly.

“In a car or on foot?” Harcourt asks.

“Foot,” Chris says.

“Or foot-powered car,” Adrian says.

“Uh, yeah, I think we can probably rule out Fred Flintstone following you,” Economos says.

There’s an intersection ahead of them. Chris tips his head toward the right and Adrian nods, tipping his to the left. They’re going to split up and see if one of them can catch a glimpse of the tail.

Chris turns right and hears whoever’s following them head left with Adrian. Chris glances over his shoulder and shudders. It’s a guy named Pritchard that Chris has known most of his life.

“Yeah, he’s a Nazi,” Chris says quietly. “Old school, almost as old as my dad. Must’ve come out of retirement just for this. Whatever they’re planning has to be big.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard to take him down,” Adrian says.

“No, V, seriously,” Chris says. “Don’t underestimate him just ‘cause he’s old. He’s like my dad.”

“Okay,” Adrian says. “I’m on it.”

“Be careful,” Harcourt says.

Chris circles back and turns to the left this time. He sees Adrian duck into a copse of little trees and tall bushes. “Yeah, good idea,” Chris says. Pritchard follows Adrian, so he must not have looked back and noticed Chris. Chris speeds up, watching the way the bushes start rustling violently.

Chris gets there in time to see Adrian stab Pritchard in the neck. There’s a lot of blood. Chris pulls Adrian up from the ground and pats him down.

“Ugh, my leg,” Adrian says, holding onto Chris’s shoulders. “He got me first. Ouch.”

“Fuck,” Chris says. It’s bleeding a lot. “You need stitches, dude.”

“No, it’s fine,” Adrian says. “I just need to sleep.”

“You have to have stitches while it heals,” Chris protests. Something that big isn’t going to heal with a nap. It’ll take an overnight sleep, at least. And it’s way too close to Adrian’s femoral artery for comfort. Pritchard was definitely going for the kill.

“We’re on our way,” Adebayo says.

“We’ll drive you back to the neighborhood gates,” Harcourt says.

“He’s definitely going to attract attention,” Chris says. “He’s covered in blood.”

“Mostly not mine,” Adrian clarifies. He’s starting to sway a little. “Oh, boy, I think I’m going down.”

“Shit, Vij,” Chris says. He gets an arm around Adrian’s waist and one around his shoulders and helps Adrian sit down. Adrian leans against him.

“Everything’s spinning but you,” Adrian mumbles. “Holding me up.”

“Yeah, I got you,” Chris promises. “Hey, it’s okay.” He brushes Adrian’s hair back from his forehead. “We’ll get you back to the house and Economos can give you stitches.”

“Already got everything ready,” Economos says. “Put pressure on it.”

“Yeah, I am,” Chris says. “I know that much.”

“Hurts,” Adrian says, slumping into Chris.

“I know,” Chris soothes. “You can pass out if you need to.”

“Don’t wanna,” Adrian slurs. “Wanna stay with you.”

“I’m right here,” Chris says. “Fuck, where are you guys?”

This feels worse than when Adrian got shot after the butterflies. Chris was focused on Harcourt, since she was more dead than alive at that point. Plus, Chris tends to miss the part before Adrian passes out the first time. Big wounds usually take him a few stretches of unconsciousness to really heal. Obviously he’s most hurt right after it happens.

“We’re coming,” Harcourt says.

The van comes screeching around the corner. Chris breathes a sigh of relief. He knows Adrian will be okay. He’s healed from worse injuries than this. It just sucks to see it. He gets Adrian inside the van just in time for Adrian to pass out completely.

“ARGUS is going to come pick this up,” Harcourt says, looking at Pritchard’s body. “Chris, can you roll him into the bush a little more?”

Chris keeps his mind as blank as possible as he does it. He doesn’t want to think about this guy bringing him G.I. Joes for his birthday or taking him to his first strip club. Pritchard wouldn’t have thought twice before killing Chris, Chris knows that. Pritchard basically told him as much after he found out Chris fucked dudes. He implied pretty heavily the only reason he wasn’t killing him was to leave him for Auggie to handle himself.

Chris shudders a little and puts all that out of his mind. He doesn’t want to think about his dad. He’s been doing really well with not seeing his ghost all the time. He’s not going to summon him here.

“I’m in the parking lot,” Economos says. “Better to take care of him here than with neighbors around.”

He climbs into the van as soon as they get back to their spot. He pokes around at Adrian’s leg for a little while. “Yeah, a few stitches,” he says. “Not too many, though. It looks worse than it is.”

”Are you sure?” Chris asks.

“He healed from a bullet to the back in two days,” Harcourt reminds him. “This was a four-inch pocketknife.”

“He’s going to be fine, Chris,” Adebayo says. “Look at that.”

Economos has the leg of Adrian’s shorts pulled up to start giving him stitches. The wound isn’t scary deep, like Chris imagined it must be, and it’s already starting to knit itself back together. That actually makes Chris dry heave, because it is nasty. But comforting.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Economos says. After he puts in six stitches, he gives Adrian’s leg a little pat that makes Chris want to narrow his eyes. He knows he’s being ridiculous. For one thing, maybe Economos is doing that for some legitimate medical purpose Chris doesn’t know about. But mostly, they’re friends. There’s no reason Chris should be the only one allowed to touch Adrian.

Even though he kind of wants to be.

Oh, fuck. He doesn’t have time to think about that right now. As soon as this mission is over, he’s going to have to start doing some hardcore repression about all these new feelings popping up. The only other option is introspection, and he already learned the hard way to lay off on that. Adrian was right.

As if he can sense Chris thinking good things about him, Adrian wakes up. It’s not even like a gradual thing. His eyes snap open and he’s awake again. It makes them all jump.

“Fucking Dracula,” Chris says.

“What?” Adrian asks.

“How do you feel?” Economos asks.

“Okay,” Adrian says. “A little lightheaded. And my leg hurts. I’m hungry.” Economos hands him a protein bar. They’re all just standing around, watching, and Adrian looks kind of weirded out. “This isn’t a big deal, you know. I’ve had way worse.”

“Probably not way,” Chris says. He’s got Adrian’s blood all over his hands. Well, he reminds himself, a lot of it is Pritchard’s, too. Adrian gave back better than he got.

“He took a bomb to the face,” Economos reminds him.

“Not really the face,” Adrian says around a mouthful of protein bar. “More like the stomach.”

“I need to get a supply of blood,” Economos decides. “Keep some in storage for all our blood types so we can have transfusions if anyone loses a lot.”

“I don’t know my blood type,” Chris says.

“Me, either,” Adrian says.

“Really?” Adebayo asks. “Haven’t you ever donated blood?”

“I donate blood plenty,” Chris says. “Every time I bleed for peace.”

“That was so fucking stupid,” Harcourt says, rolling her eyes.

“I liked it,” Adrian says loyally. He yawns. “Can I go to sleep now?”

“Not here,” Harcourt says. “You have to go back to the house.” She groans. “Fuck. If you’re hurt, there’s no one to take care of any Nazis who might break in tonight.”

“Hello?” Economos says.

Harcourt ignores him. “Guess I’m playing sister coming to visit.”

“Can’t I—” Chris starts.

“No,” Harcourt cuts him off. “They’re definitely going to be watching the house right now. They’ll see you.”

Chris doesn’t argue. He knows she’s right, even if he doesn’t like it. But Harcourt’s more than capable of keeping everybody safe.

“Fine,” Chris says.

“What about his clothes, though?” Adebayo says. “You can’t just walk around in the suburbs covered in blood.”

“Here,” Chris says. He digs through his bag for a shirt and some sweats and chucks them at Adrian’s head. “I better get those back.”

Adrian makes a noncommittal noise, which means Chris is not going to get them back. There’s a good chance they’ll get bloodstained, anyway. Even if Adrian doesn’t bleed on them now, he has trouble keeping most of his clothes from getting covered in blood. It’s usually not his own.

Adrian starts to pull at his shirt, but then he stops and says, “Oh. I’m going to change now. If you don’t want to see my underwear or my shredded washboard abs, you should turn around.”

Chris doesn’t turn around. Why would he? He’s seen it all. And he has no qualms about seeing it all again. Chris does take the opportunity, while everyone else is looking away, to get his hands on Adrian’s skin. He doesn’t know why that seems so important right now. Just to reassure himself that Adrian’s okay, he supposes.

Adrian shivers a little when Chris puts a hand on his back, but he doesn’t shrug Chris off. He looks up at him and smiles a little. “Thanks for the clothes,” he says softly.

Chris glances over his shoulder. Everyone else is still turned away. He darts in and gives Adrian a fleeting kiss. It’s going to be his only chance for God knows how long. It’s never bothered him before not to know how long it’ll be before they can hook up. Now it seems like torture.

Fuck. He needs to start that repression now.

He lets Adrian get dressed. But this was a huge mistake—now Chris is faced with the sight of Adrian in his clothes. And holy shit does he like that. Adebayo gives Chris a searching look when everyone turns back around, but Chris avoids her eyes. He so does not want to know what she’s seeing all over his face.

“Alright,” Harcourt says. “I’m going with them. Hopefully tonight’s the night. If more than five of them come to us, head over to the house and get the evidence.”

“We know the drill,” Adebayo promises.

Chris wraps his arm around Adrian’s waist and helps him out of the van and into Economos’s car. Adrian presses his face into Chris’s neck for a second before he lets go and presses a tiny kiss to Chris’s collarbone. “Bye,” he says.

“Bye,” Chris answers. He doesn’t second-guess himself before he squeezes Adrian’s shoulder and lets his thumb brush gently across Adrian's collarbone.

“Bye,” Harcourt says, kind of pointed.

Chris pulls himself away from the car. “Bye,” he repeats.

“Bye,” Adrian says.

“Oh, my God,” Economos says. “We’re leaving now.”

“No, you hang up first,” Harcourt teases in a high-pitched voice.

“What?” Adrian asks. “No one’s on the phone.”

“Never mind,” Harcourt sighs.

Chris gets back in the van when they leave. Adebayo’s waiting for him. She raises her eyebrows. “Hmmm.”

“Enough,” Chris says.

“I didn’t even say anything.”

Chris rubs his eyes. He points to the comm in his ear and Adebayo nods. That’s why she’s not saying anything, probably. He thanks God or ARGUS or whoever that they have comms. He can’t talk about this before he thinks about it. And he can’t think about it, period.

Chris is not one for…feelings. Well, feelings like this. He’s very familiar with the feelings of annoyance, rage, guilt, and self-loathing. Everything else gets complicated. Even happiness is kind of thorny.

Economos takes Adrian’s weight and they do an awkward three-legged race into the house. And of course Leslie is outside. “Oh, Tanner, are you okay?” she calls out.

“He just twisted his ankle,” Harcourt says.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” Leslie says.

“I’m Tanner’s sister,” Harcourt says. She opens her mouth for a name and seems to come up empty.

“Persephone,” Adebayo suggests.

“What the fuck?” Chris asks. “Just say Mary. It’s the easiest woman name to remember.”

“Mary,” Harcourt finishes.

“One kid named Tanner and one named Mary?” Adebayo asks skeptically. “Those names don’t really match.”

“Well, Adrian has a real brother named Gut,” Chris points out.

“That’s true,” Adebayo admits. “But that’s not his real name, right?”

“Yeah, it is,” Chris says.

“No,” Adrian says.

“No?” Leslie asks.

“Not you,” Adrian says. “Um, I mean—no…you…”

“He meant no, you haven’t met Mary,” Economos fills in. “She, uh, she just came to visit and help us get the house set up.”

“Right,” Harcourt agrees.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Leslie says.

“Sure,” Economos says. “Well, I better get this one inside to bed. He needs some rest.”

“Hope you feel better!” Leslie says.

Economos nudges Adrian. “Thanks,” Adrian says. His head is lolling around as Economos helps him walk.

Harcourt blows out a breath when they get inside the house. “Jesus. So nosy.”

“Well, she is in charge of the neighborhood watch,” Adrian points out.

“Oh, right,” Economos says, depositing Adrian on the couch. “I totally forgot about that.”

“Neighborhood watch people are so annoying,” Adrian says, voice slow. “Totally incompetent. Get in my way when I’m patrolling.”

“Yes, because you’re much more legitimate than them,” Adebayo says.

“Yeah, I am,” Adrian agrees. Chris snorts.

“I’ll sleep on the couch instead of one of the bedrooms,” Harcourt says. “Then I’ll be first line of defense if they come in.”

“Not if they come in the upstairs window,” Adrian says.

“How would they come through the upstairs window?” Economos asks.

“Zipline,” Adrian says, like it’s obvious. His eyes aren’t even open anymore.

“Yeah, duh,” Adebayo teases.

“Okay,” Harcourt says. “Well. Barring a zipline. You two should go to sleep now. We could be in for a long night and I think we should rotate watch more often than usual to stay extra alert.”

Adrian yawns again. “Yeah,” he says sleepily.

”Well, John and I can rotate watch,” Harcourt amends. “You should just heal.”

“Sorry, man, I cannot carry you up the stairs,” Economos says. “Chris probably could.”

“Mmm,” Adrian says, eyes still closed. He smiles a little. “Yeah.”

“I definitely could,” Chris says. He has to stop himself from leaning closer to the monitor to get a better look at Adrian.

“Try it sometime,” Adrian mumbles.

“Sure,” Chris says, hoping his voice didn’t sound as breathless to anyone else as it did to his own ears. He’s got some mental images about how he could carry Adrian that are absolutely not fit for sharing. Judging by the way Adebayo looks over at him immediately, his voice is reflecting exactly what kind of thoughts he's having.

“Come on,” Economos says, helping Adrian up and slinging Adrian’s arm around his shoulders. “I’ll help you.”

Chris crosses his arms over his chest. He cannot believe he’s fucking jealous of Economos, of all people. And for such a ridiculous reason. It’s good that he’s helping Adrian. Adrian probably wouldn’t make it up the stairs on his own, either because his leg hurts or because he’s barely conscious. So he needs help. And he’s getting help. And that’s good and Chris’s brain can shut the fuck up.

Adebayo is completely laughing at him now. He flips her off and watches Economos and Adrian struggle their way up the stairs. Harcourt watches with amusement from the couch and makes no move to help. At one point, Economos misjudges the space and Adrian’s head bumps against the wall, and Chris loses power over his own voice and snaps,

“Watch it!” Then he feels really fucking embarrassed, so he tries to cover with, “He can’t really stand to lose any more brainpower.”

Adebayo snorts, but no one disagrees with him. He counts that as at least a partial win.

Finally, Economos basically drops Adrian onto the bed. Adrian just rolls into it and passes out. Chris can’t tell if it was a normal falling-asleep passing out or an actual pass out. Either way, Adrian’s unconscious, which is good for his healing factor.

Bad for Chris trying to avoid talking about his feelings.

Adebayo at least has the decency to wait until it seems like Economos is asleep, too, and Harcourt pretends not to be listening. “I cannot believe you lied to me,” Adebayo hisses at him.

“What?” Chris asks genuinely. He can’t think of any lies he’s told recently. “I didn’t.”

“You said you were friends with benefits,” Adebayo says.

“We are,” Chris says.

“Are you trying to be funny?” Adebayo says.

Chris is completely baffled. Unless she can suddenly read minds and didn’t think to tell any of them so she knows he’s been having weird feelings all over, he’s lost in this conversation. He and Adrian are friends with benefits. “What are you talking about?”

Adebayo stares at him. She raises her eyebrows. Then she tilts her head and narrows her eyes. “Oh, my God,” she says, sounding surprised. “You’re serious.”

“Serious about what?” Chris asks.

“Nothing,” Adebayo says. “Um, never mind. Do you want to get some sleep? I’ll take the first watch.”

Chris considers pushing her. But she shakes her head at him. If she doesn’t want to tell him what she means, he’s not going to be able to convince her. “Okay,” he says. “Yeah. Wake me up in three hours.”

“Yep,” Adebayo says.

Chris doesn’t let himself take a last look at Adrian on the monitor. He goes to the back of the van and lies down. He keeps his mind completely, carefully empty, and he goes to sleep.

Chapter Text

“Chris,” Adebayo says urgently. “Fuck. Wake up.”

“What?” Chris says.

“There’s so many of them out there.” Adebayo’s voice is shaking. Chris sits up and looks at the monitor. His stomach drops so fast he thinks he’s going to be sick.

There are at least twenty people gathered on the front lawn of the house. And they don’t have lame-ass tiki torches—those are real flames. Chris flashes back to saying the houses are close enough together to torch them all.

“Fuck,” he says.

“Yeah,” Harcourt says grimly. She looks at the camera. “You guys need to go get the evidence.”

“No fucking way,” Chris protests. “You can’t do this on your own!”

“I’m not on my own,” Harcourt says. “I’ve got John and Adrian.”

“Just tell me what to do,” Economos says. He’s visibly shaking.

“Oh, fuck,” Adebayo mutters.

Adrian’s leg should be partially healed by now. He’s been asleep for a few hours. He sits up, hair wild, and has two guns out before his feet are on the ground. “Alright,” he says. “Let’s kill some motherfucking Nazis.”

Chris’s mouth is dry. He wants to stay and help. But he’s certainly not sending Adebayo into that safehouse alone. “Fuck!” he yells.

“Let’s go,” Adebayo says. “We’ll hurry. Then we can go back in and help.”

“Yeah,” Chris says. “Okay. Come on.”

They load up on weapons. Chris brings a whole backpack of extra guns and knives. Hopefully they won’t need it in the safehouse itself, but he plans to use plenty when they come back to help the others, and they’re not coming back to the van to reload.

He stops in front of the monitors just before he gets out of the van. “Hey, Adrian,” he says, voice softer than he meant it to be. “Be careful.”

Adrian looks up from loading the rifle he pulled out from under the bed. “I’m always careful.”

“You’re never careful,” Chris counters. “Dude, you got stabbed, like, four hours ago.”

Adrian shrugs. “Yeah, true. Okay. I’ll try.”

“Okay,” Chris says. He takes a deep breath and starts to close the door.

“Chris.” Chris stops. He doesn’t really need to; Adrian can’t see him, and they both have their comms in and can keep talking. But he’s surprised. Adrian almost never uses his actual name. “You be careful, too.”

“I’ll try,” Chris echoes.

Adrian almost smiles. “Hurry,” he says. “Come back so we can fuck ‘em up together.”

Chris can’t help but laugh. “Yeah,” he says. “You got it. Save me some, okay?”

“No promises,” Adrian says. He pulls out his sword from the closet. “You snooze, you lose, man.”

Chris is still smiling as he hops out of the van and follows Adebayo. They get into the neighborhood and creep along the street as fast as they can without looking suspicious. Chris is not smiling when they get to the safehouse.

It’s still full of Nazis.

“It’s a fucking ambush,” Chris says. “They brought people in to get you guys and this place is still crawling with Nazis.”

“Fuck,” Harcourt says. “I guess that explains why there’s so many out here.”

“You guys good?” Adebayo checks.

“They haven’t started coming at us yet,” Adrian says. “They’re just standing outside. I don’t get it.”

“They’re intimidating us,” Economos says. “That’s what the fire’s about.”

“Oh,” Adrian says. “Um. Sure. Okay.”

“I’m going in anyway,” Chris decides. He’s tired of sitting around and waiting. But then he stops and looks at Adebayo.

She sighs. “Yeah, okay.”

“Ads,” he says. “You don’t have to.”

“Okay,” she says sarcastically. “I’ll just let you go in there alone.”

“There are at least ten of them in there,” Chris points out. “Our odds aren’t great.”

“Better than your odds on your own,” Adebayo says.

“I’d say we could throw a bomb in there, but I don’t want to take out any neighbors when we don’t know if they’re normal,” Chris says.

“And the evidence,” Adebayo reminds him.

“Thank you,” Harcourt says. “Jesus. The whole reason we’re here.”

Chris did forget about that. He groans. “So we have to stay alive and find evidence. Great.”

“Sorry to fucking inconvenience you,” Harcourt says.

Chris makes sure all his guns are loaded and looks over at Adebayo. “How many you got?”

“How many what?”

“Guns.”

“Just this one,” she says, confused.

“One?” he echoes. “What, you’re going to stop and reload in the middle of it all? Here.” He hands her another handgun. Hopefully they won’t need all four guns they’ve got out, but it’s always better to have too many than not enough.

“Ready?” Adebayo asks.

“Oh, fuck, here they come,” Economos says. Chris’s stomach flips. He doesn’t like that they’re broken off into two groups. He’d rather they’re all in one place, fighting together.

“Let’s go,” Chris says. The sooner they get the evidence, the sooner they get back to help.

He and Adebayo creep to the back door of the house. It’s set up exactly the same as Adrian and Economos’s, so at least they have an idea of where they’re going. There’s almost no chance they’ll have the element of surprise; the Nazis will definitely have a security system in place.

A guy comes to the door just as Chris is thinking about the security system. “They know we’re here,” he tells Adebayo. He shoots through the door and hits the guy in the chest. One down, God knows how many to go. Chris doesn’t even feel guilty about killing him, though that usually doesn’t hit until later, anyway.

Chris has to block out all the grunts and yells from Harcourt, Adrian, and Economos. If he spares any attention for them, he won’t be able to focus on the danger in front of him, and he has to be on high alert to get Adebayo out of here. He knows she can more than hold her own, but he’d rather do the bulk of it himself. He wants to spare her as much as he can, and the guys inside are going to be aiming for her first.

He kicks in the door and stays in front of Adebayo for as long as he can. They’re vulnerable as fuck, coming in like this, but they don’t have much choice.

“Too bad you don’t still have that x-ray vision helmet,” Adebayo says, shooting two guys in quick succession.

“I do,” Chris says, dropping the guy coming up behind Adebayo. “But it didn’t seem right to use my dad’s stuff anymore.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Adebayo demands. “It’s great that you want to atone and all, but you don’t have to get rid of the useful shit! Use it for good to really stick it to him!”

Well, Chris hadn’t thought of it that way. “Alright, well, it’s a little late now!” he points out.

Adebayo groans. They’re through the kitchen now, with four dead bodies in their wake. Chris wishes they had a clue about how many Nazis are left.

“John, get down!” Harcourt screams in their ear.

“Fuck,” Adebayo says, shaken. Hearing it without seeing what’s happening is scary as fuck. “Everybody okay?”

“Busy,” Adrian says. “Can’t talk.”

“You’re talking,” Chris says. He’s glad. If they’re still talking, they’re still alive.

“Oh, fuck,” Economos wails. “The fire’s spreading.”

“What about Ashley and Jason?” Adrian asks. “They’re just next door and they’re normal people! Jason can’t run very fast because he’s just a little kid. He kept falling over in the backyard!”

Chris would ask about the fire, but he gets a little distracted by the guy shooting at him and Adebayo. “Let’s split up,” Adebayo says.

“No, I don’t want to split up,” Chris protests. He’s already having a hard time with being split up from everyone else.

“We have to check all the rooms,” she reminds him. “I’m guessing they set up their super-secret intel upstairs, since it’s hardest to get to, but there might be other stuff down here.”

Chris hesitates. She’s right. “Fine,” he says. “Be careful.”

“I’ve got the vest,” she reminds him. They had a few bulletproof vests to go around. That’s a relief, at least.

“Good,” he says. “But you still have to watch your head.”

Adebayo makes a face. “Yeah. Got it. Okay.”

Chris takes the left side of the hallway and Adebayo takes the right. Chris ducks into the first bedroom. It looks like someone was using it as an actual bedroom; probably where they slept when it wasn’t their turn on watch. He kicks around at the clothes on the ground and looks inside the closet, but there’s nothing in here.

The next room is the same, and the bathroom is a normal bathroom. There’s all kinds of Nazi shit all over the walls everywhere—pictures of Hitler, pictures of Auggie, swastikas, the whole nine yards. It all makes Chris shudder. He counts three different White Dragon figurines. And who the fuck was making action figures of that?

Probably Auggie himself, actually.

“I’m going up,” Chris says in the comm. “Ads, where are you?”

“Right behind you,” she says.

“I don’t like that no one else is coming down,” Chris says.

“Do not let them destroy the evidence!” Harcourt says.

“Yeah, on our way,” Chris says. He doesn’t even get mad that she thinks they can’t figure that out themselves. She’s not exactly in a place to stop and consider anyone’s feelings or tactical instincts right now.

Chris goes up the stairs first. He has to shoot one guy before they’re even all the way up, and Adebayo yelps a little when she gets hit with the blood spatter.

“Sorry,” Chris says.

“It’s okay,” Adebayo says weakly.

“I don’t think we should split up again. Not up here,” Chris says. It’s way too calm up the stairs and it’s giving him a bad feeling.

“Okay,” she says. “It’s weird that we aren’t getting, like, rushed.”

“Exactly.” Chris doesn’t know what the Nazis who are left in here are doing, but he knows it’s not going to be good.

There’s no one and nothing in the first upstairs bedroom. That means everything must be in the main bedroom. Chris looks at Adebayo to check that she’s ready. She nods. He kicks the door open.

Everything’s on fire. The Nazis inside are throwing papers into the blaze. And the bastards either don’t realize or don’t care that the room itself is on fire, too.

“Oh, shit,” Adebayo says. She and Chris start shooting.

There’s a paper on top of the burning pile that hasn’t burned yet, and Chris doesn’t let himself think about it before he reaches in and grabs it. He doesn’t have his gloves, but then he remembers that wouldn’t help, anyway. His gloves aren’t fireproof. That seems like an oversight that he should definitely fix.

“Fuck!” he yelps as the flames lick his fingers.

“Chris, duck!” Adebayo yells, and he drops without a second thought. She shoots a guy right behind him. “I think that’s all of them,” she pants.

“Good.” Chris drops the pile of burning papers on the ground and stomps on them. “We gotta get out of here.”

The smoke’s getting thick enough to make them both cough. Being upstairs in a fire does not seem like a good idea. Don’t staircases burn? They’ll get trapped, and he really does not want to go out the window. Not to mention the fire is on that side of the room, so the window probably isn’t even an option.

Chris grabs the pile of half-charred papers. He doesn’t even know what’s on them, but they were obviously important enough to burn.

The attached bathroom door flies open, and Chris’s heart stops. He can see from the way the door’s opening that whoever’s inside has a clear line straight to Adebayo. And whoever it is will come out shooting, without a doubt. It doesn’t matter where Adebayo goes; with the fire blocking half the room, she has nowhere to move to get out of the way. If she can even move fast enough, anyway. She’s half-turned away and can’t hear the door opening over the sound of the flames.

Chris rushes the door. He hears the gun go off and Adebayo scream. Then Adebayo’s behind him and she shoots the guy in the head. Chris is on the ground now. He doesn’t remember falling. His head hurts, though. He might have hit it on that big bed post next to him.

“Chris,” Adebayo says. “Oh, fuck, Chris. Chris! Can you talk to me?”

“What happened?” Harcourt demands. Wait, Harcourt’s here? Oh, no, that’s right. There's a comm in his ear.

“There was another guy!” Adebayo says, voice trembling. “He shot Chris. And he wouldn’t take the bulletproof vest!”

“What?” Adrian! That’s Adrian. V. Vij.

“Adrian,” Chris mumbles. He hopes Adrian’s coming here. He likes when Adrian’s around. Even when he’s annoying, he’s good to have around.

“Chris, we have to get out of here,” Adebayo says. “This whole place is on fucking fire!”

“Oh, Jesus,” Economos says. Chris can’t think very well right now. He knows everyone’s freaking out about something.

“Come on,” Adebayo says. She’s trying to get him to stand up. He doesn’t want to do that. He’s tired. “You can’t go to sleep,” she tells him. Well, that sucks.

Adebayo’s crying. “What’s wrong?” Chris asks. He thinks he asks. His mouth feels funny and he can’t talk very well.

“Chris, come on,” Adebayo says. “You have to get up.”

“Tired,” Chris says. “Cold.”

“Shit,” someone says in his ear. Economos?

“Where’s Adrian?” Chris asks. It seems like Adrian should be here. It would be better if Adrian were here.

“Hey, buddy, get up,” Adrian says. Oh, it’s Adrian! But where is he?

Chris sighs, frustrated. He can’t see Adrian anywhere. “Where are you?”

“I’m at the other house,” Adrian says. Whatever that means. “You gotta move, dude.”

“Okay,” Chris agrees. He'll do what Adrian wants. “Want to see you.”

“Yeah, P, I want to see you, too.” Adrian’s voice sounds funny. Shaky.

“Chris,” Adebayo says. She’s got her arms under his armpits now. He wonders if he put on deodorant this morning. He can’t remember this morning. Why is Adebayo grabbing him?

“You fucking pussy,” Auggie says. Ugh, of course he's here. He always shows up at the worst time. “Got shot again? Can't you do anything right?”

“Go away,” Chris tells him.

“What?” Adebayo asks.

“Not you,” Chris says. “Dad’s here.”

“You got shot for her?”

Adebayo’s trying to get him off the ground now. It’s not working very well. Chris can’t seem to get his legs under himself. And he can't breathe very well. There's a lot of smoke in here and it's really hot. Through the haze of pain and the weird cotton feeling in his brain, Chris realizes what’s happening. He’s dying. He’s going to die. And if Adebayo doesn’t get out of here, she will too.

“Ads,” he says. He can’t open his eyes to find her. “Go.”

“Shut the fuck up,” she snaps at him. She tries in vain to get him off the ground again. He knows he should be helping, should be at least trying to take some of his own weight, but he just can't do it.

“Chris,” Harcourt says desperately. “Come on, stay with us.”

“Well, at least you’ll take her down with you,” Auggie says. He spits at Adebayo. That pisses Chris off.

“No,” Chris says, more forceful. “Ads, get out.” She can't die. She doesn't deserve that. The world doesn't deserve that.

“I am not fucking leaving,” Adebayo pants, pulling at him. "So just save your fucking breath, Chris."

“Holy fuck,” Economos says, voice cracking. “Chris, get up.”

“P.” Adrian’s there. He’s actually there, face above Chris and everything. He’s not wearing his mask, so Chris can see the curls in his hair and those familiar serial-killer glasses. That’s nice. Chris likes looking at his face. Adrian’s smiling at him, and that's really nice. Adrian has a nice smile. “Hey, man.”

“Adrian,” Chris breathes. “Hi. Hi! You’re here.”

“What are you talking about?” Adebayo asks.

“Guess your little boyfriend came to watch you die,” Auggie sneers. He laughs. “Fucking pansies.”

“You okay, V?” Chris asks. “Not hurt?” If Chris is hurt, he must've been fighting. And if he was fighting, that usually means Vij was with him. Except the last time he got shot and that building fell on him.

“I’m not hurt,” Adrian promises. “You’re hurt really bad, though.”

“Oh,” Chris says. He is? He can’t concentrate. He was supposed to tell Adebayo to leave, he remembers. But he doesn’t know why. She’s his best friend; he wants her around. And he definitely wants Adrian. That’s one of the few things sticking in his mind. “Adrian?”

“I’m here,” Adrian promises. “Can you get up, dude?”

“No,” Chris says. He thinks he’s shaking his head. “Can’t do it.” He shouldn't admit that, probably. Adrian always thinks he's so strong. He has no idea how weak Chris actually is.

“Okay,” Adrian says easily. “Stay there, then. I’ll stay here with you and we’ll hang out in the fire.”

“Okay,” Chris agrees. That's nice. Adrian likes fire.

“Just gonna stay there and fucking take it,” Auggie says, disgusted. “Waste of air. At least you’ll be dead.”

“Chris,” Adebayo says.

“Chris,” Harcourt says.

“Chris,” Economos says.

“Fucking what?” Chris asks.

And then he snaps back into reality. Forcefully. There are flames encroaching on his left arm and his side feels like it’s already on fire. He can’t take a deep breath. His side isn’t literally on fire; he got shot. Yeah, okay. He remembers that now.

“Ads?” Chris says.

“For the last fucking time, I’m not leaving you,” she says. She’s heaving him toward the door, but it’s slow going. He whimpers a little, involuntarily, because she’s cranking on his arms and it’s hurting his side. “Sorry, sorry, I’m trying not to hurt you but I have to move you, but moving hurts you, but we can’t stay here—”

“Maybe less talking,” Chris requests. He starts coughing weakly from all the smoke, but that hurts so bad it makes him retch. He notices a phone from one of the dead guys’ hands. That seems important. “Wait,” he says. He can’t reach it.

”We don’t exactly have a lot of time here, Chris!” Adebayo says.

Then Adrian comes bursting through the door. “P!” he screams. “Holy fuck.”

He’s wearing Chris’s clothes and he’s barefoot, his sword in one hand and a handgun in the other. His feet are covered in blood. Chris’s Twisted Sister shirt is slashed all down one side, gaping open and revealing a bleeding wound down Adrian’s side. There’s blood seeping through his pants where Pritchard got him earlier. He looks like some dude Chris saw on a stained-glass window at a church when he was a kid. A saint? Maybe a knight or something. Chris wasn't paying attention, and he can't remember it very well.

Somehow, the only thing that comes out of Chris’s mouth is, “My shirt.”

“Sorry,” Adrian says. “Uh, you guys know this room is on fire, right? And there's guns everywhere on the ground and that is really dangerous. We should get out of here.” He doesn’t wait for an answer. He runs over and takes Chris’s other side, eyes wide. He's wearing weird glasses. “Oh, fuck, you’re bleeding. You’re bleeding so much. Chris! You don’t heal like me. Oh, God, you don’t heal!”

“Adrian!” Adebayo says. “Not the time.”

Adrian’s head bobs as he nods furiously. “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Right. Uh-huh.”

“The papers,” Chris says. He tries to grab them as Adrian and Adebayo help him up, but his hands aren’t clenching very well. “And there’s a phone.”

“I got it,” Adebayo says. “Adrian, you got him?”

“Of course I got him!” Adrian says. His voice is going all high like it does when he's freaking the fuck out. “I would never let him fall!”

Chris leans his weight on Adrian. It's partially because that helps calm Adrian down, but mostly because Chris can't hold himself up. “Hi, V,” he says, dropping his face into the crook of Adrian’s neck and inhaling. Adrian smells like gunpowder and blood and sweat and smoke. That’s kind of gross. But it is kind of typical. It's practically Adrian's signature scent.

“Hi,” Adrian says, chest heaving.

“Hi,” Chris says.

“You already said that,” Adrian says. “Oh, God, you lost so much blood your brain died.”

“If his brain died, he wouldn’t be talking,” Harcourt says. “Get out of there!”

“We’re coming,” Adebayo says. She and Adrian have to work together to drag Chris out of the room. And then the stairs are a big problem. Chris still can’t get his legs to cooperate. He feels like the ground is icy or something. But it can't be icy. It's really fucking hot and smoky in here. His feet just can't stay put.

“I got an idea,” Adrian says. “Um…I think it might be a bad one, though.”

“Well, we have no options,” Adebayo says.

Adrian disappears for a few seconds and Chris makes a wordless protest. Adrian comes back with a blanket. “Slide him down,” he explains.

“Oh, that is a bad idea,” Economos says. “That is a horrible idea.” Chris doesn't know why. He can't concentrate on what they're talking about.

“It’s probably going to hurt,” Adrian says, wincing. He’s up close to Chris’s face. Chris is on the ground again. How does that keep happening?

“It’s definitely going to hurt,” Adebayo says. “He’s going to hit his head again.”

Again? Chris doesn’t remember hitting his head. That explains why he can’t remember shit. The smoke and the fire are filling the house and making it even harder to breathe. The smoke detectors are shrieking and adding to Chris’s headache. As if he needed more pain.

“Okay,” Adrian says. “Here’s a different idea.”

He gets on the ground and pulls Chris on top of him. “Oh, hi,” Chris says, laughing a little.

“Don’t start that again,” Adebayo says.

”Best seat in the house,” Chris says. Or he thinks he says. He thinks it, anyway. And then they’re sliding down the stairs on the blanket with Adrian under Chris, cradling his head. “Whoa, what?” Chris asks. This seems kind of weird.

“Well, ow, you’re—ow—too heavy, bro, but I gotta keep you—fuck, that hurts!—safe,” Adrian says. He’s hitting every stair. When they hit the bottom, Adrian groans a little. “Ow. Okay, Adebayo, little help here?”

She rushes down the stairs and helps roll Chris off Adrian. The two of them get him up again. “Give me an update,” Harcourt says.

“We’re down the stairs,” Adebayo says.

“We’re coming,” Adrian says.

“I’m going to pass out,” Chris says. Then he does.

Chapter Text

Chris wakes up in a hospital bed. He groans. Not this again. He wiggles his fingers and toes. Everything works, as far as he can tell.

“Chris!” Adrian’s in the bed with him. Hogging his pillow, actually.

“Hey,” Chris says.

“Oh, good, a different word,” Adebayo says. She’s sitting in a chair by the bed with a bandage along her arm and her wife sitting halfway in her lap.

“How long was I out?” Chris asks.

“A while. They already opened you up to check for internal damage,” Economos says. He’s got a bandage on his face and one arm in a sling.

“What happened to you?” Chris asks.

“Fucking Nazis, same thing that happened to you,” Economos says.

“We got the intel,” Harcourt says. “Some was on the papers, but most of it was on the phone.” She’s in the chair on the other side of the bed. She’s got a black eye and a broken nose and Chris can tell she’s holding her ribs carefully.

“Good,” he says. “Dude, you’re on my pillow,” he says to Adrian.

”Well, he passed out again when we got here,” Adebayo says. “We just put him up there. Easier than letting the nurses get their hands on him and having him jump out a window again.”

Oh. Chris thought Adrian was on the bed with him out of worry or something. That’s slightly disappointing. But the end result is still Adrian next to him, so that’s not too bad.

”Well, I wanted to be up here with you, too,” Adrian says. Fuck, that’s spooky. Like he’s reading Chris’s mind. “And I wouldn’t leave the hospital if P’s still here, anyway.”

”He was still sitting in the hospital last time,” Harcourt says.

”But he wasn’t in the hospital,” Adrian says. “You know what I mean.”

Before anyone can say anything else, Leslie and Trevor from across the street come in. “What the fuck?” Chris asks.

“Oh, turns out they’re FBI,” Adrian says. “They helped us.”

“What?”

“So much for interagency communication,” Harcourt says dryly, shooting Leslie a stink-eye.

“It did turn out to be really helpful, though,” Economos points out. Harcourt waves that away and rolls her eyes.

“Would’ve been nice to know we were all undercover,” Leslie says. “I wouldn’t have had to stick so close to you. We knew there were extremists in the neighborhood and were trying to figure out who was part of their group and who was a target.”

“Well, your cookies were still good,” Adrian says, like that’s what matters.

“Thanks. Baking’s my passion.” She looks at Harcourt. “Think you guys get jurisdiction on this one since it’s tied to that White Dragon superhero person.”

“Supervillain,” Adrian corrects. He looks at Chris. “No offense, dude.”

Chris shrugs. “Yeah.” There’s really no other way to phrase it. Not like Chris isn’t aware.

“So…” Leslie says. “If you were undercover, I guess this means you’re not engaged?” Chris’s hopes about her not actually being into Adrian are dashed before he can even really materialize the thoughts.

“Nope,” Adrian says.

“So…?” Leslie looks at him expectantly. “Oh. Unless you actually are gay?”

“Nope,” Adrian repeats.

“Okay,” Leslie says. “So you want to go out sometime?”

Chris makes a little noise against his will. He can’t really help it. He almost fucking died and now this chick waltzes in and tries to hook up with Adrian right on top of him? What’s she going to do next, ask him to move over so they can use his bed?

Adrian looks at Chris. Chris almost asks why he’s looking. He almost goes for his usual bluster and denial. But…he almost fucking died. Again. And he apparently hallucinated Adrian. He obviously hasn’t been doing a good job on the repression. Maybe it’s time to stop trying to fight it. He doesn’t fucking want to fight it anymore.

“No,” Chris says.

“No?” Adrian asks.

“I mean—” Chris clears his throat. Oh, that’s hard to do. “If you want to. I just…I don’t want you to. Because I want you.”

“I don’t want to,” Adrian says immediately, face splitting into a grin. “I just want you.” He looks at Leslie. “Um, no offense. You’re pretty! And a great shot. But I don’t really like cops. And he’s just, like, my absolute BFF and really good at sex.”

“Well, with qualifications like that,” Keeya says.

“Uh, okay,” Leslie says. She looks at Harcourt. “What about you?”

“Me?” Harcourt asks.

“I saw you during all the fighting. And I have a type,” Leslie says with a shrug.

“Wait, are you saying he and I are the same type?” Harcourt asks.

That makes Adebayo crack up laughing. “Oh my God. You totally are. You just hide it better.”

“That must be why Peacemaker likes us both, too,” Adrian says. Chris shoots him a look and he shrugs. “What? You do.”

“Wha…” Harcourt looks at Adrian. “Well, I’m going to have to do some serious soul-searching about that,” she says.

“About going out with her?” Chris asks. “Kinda rude to say it right in front of her.”

“No, about being the same type as him,” Harcourt says.

“Well, I think that’s also kinda rude,” Adrian says.

“Is that a yes?” Leslie asks. Or whatever her name is; Chris figures Leslie probably isn’t her real name.

“Yeah,” Harcourt says.

“Hang on, am I the only fucking straight person on this team?” Economos asks.

“Yes,” Adebayo says. “Stop interrupting or I’m going to call you a homophobe.” Economos throws his hands up in exasperation.

”Why is there a gun in the bed?” Chris interrupts. He can’t see it, but he knows what a gun feels like by his hip. He’d like to make a joke about Adrian’s dick, but he’s too tired.

”Wait, what?” Harcourt asks, looking away from what’s-her-name.

”Oh, I stuffed it down my pants when I needed my hands to help you,” Adrian says. “I wasn’t going to just leave it there in a fire. It could go off!”

”You’re not worried about it going off in your pants or in the bed?” Economos asks.

”Uh, no,” Adrian says. “I know how to handle guns, dude. There’s always a gun in my bed.” Chris really wants to make a joke now. Pistol in bed? Something. He can’t figure it out. Too tired.

”Didn’t you have a sword earlier?” FBI Leslie asks.

”Oh, yeah, I did have to leave that in the fire,” Adrian says sadly. “I didn’t have my sheath on my back ‘cause I wasn’t in my suit.”

”Your suit?” Not-Trevor asks. “Wait, are you one of those guys who runs around in a superhero costume?”

”Nope!” Adrian says. “Not me! Not at all! Regular dude. I’m just good at fighting and like swords.”

Chris drifts a little, because he got shot and lost a ton of blood and is really fucking tired, but at some point a nurse comes in and tells everyone they have to leave.

“How did you even get in here?” he asks.

“Threats,” Adrian says.

“I told you not to do that,” Harcourt says.

“But you’re enjoying the benefits,” Adrian says.

“Shut up.”

Adebayo comes over and gets an arm around Chris’s neck. “You scared me,” she whispers.

“Sorry.”

She gives him a kiss on the forehead. It makes him laugh a little. He’s on some good drugs. Also, that was cute. “You are not allowed to die, got it?” Her voice shakes a little.

“Got it,” he says. He manages to hold onto her hand. “Thanks for not leaving me, Ads.” His throat feels a little tight. She really risked her life to try to pull him out of a burning fucking building. When he’s not on drugs, that’s going to hit him hard.

“I would never,” she promises. She whispers the next part right in his ear so Adrian can’t hear. “BFF.”

Keeya pats Chris’s arm. “Lee says you got hurt protecting her,” she says. “So if you need anything, let me know. I got you covered.”

”I’ll think of some things,” Chris promises. It makes her laugh.

“Doctor says you’ll be fine, by the way,” Harcourt tells him. Oh, right. No one’s told him any of that yet. “It didn’t hit anything major. Practically a graze, honestly. You were just being a dramatic baby.” But she smiles at him, a little tremulously, and takes his hand.

“Harcourt got up faster than you when she got shot way worse,” Economos says, like he’s not sitting there staring at Chris like he’s a ghost.

“She didn’t get up. I picked her up,” Chris reminds him. He’s not even bragging. That’s just genuinely what happened.

“Yes, you’re very strong,” Harcourt says condescendingly. It’s undercut a little by the fact that she’s still holding his hand. “Wear the fucking vest next time,” she adds.

Economos gives Adrian’s shoulder a squeeze and Chris’s leg a little pat. Adrian pats him on the elbow. It doesn’t really bother Chris now the way all their touches during the mission did. Maybe it’s because of the drugs. Or maybe it’s because Adrian’s lying in the bed with Chris and turned down going out with someone else.

They all file out, except Adrian. “Are you staying?” Chris asks.

“No,” the nurse says. What the fuck, Chris didn’t even know he was still there. If Chris wasn’t on drugs, he’d probably have jumped.

Adrian leans down and kisses him. That’s even better when he’s high, which is really saying something because it’s so good sober. They should recreate this when Chris isn’t hurt and then they can have sex.

Adrian snorts. “Okay, dude, yeah, we’ll have sex when you’re better.”

“How do you keep knowing what I’m thinking?” Chris asks.

“You’ve been talking a lot,” Adrian says, eyebrows raised.

“Oh.” That’s kind of embarrassing. He can’t remember what all he’s said out loud.

“See you in the morning,” Adrian says. He’s using the voice he uses when he’s lying about something and he gives Chris one of his big, obvious winks. Whatever the hell that means.

With Adrian, it could be anything. Maybe he expects Chris to go out the window like he did when he was in the hospital. That’s definitely not happening. Chris can’t even imagine sitting up.

The nurse herds Adrian out and Chris falls asleep pretty much instantly. He wakes up, sometime later, to someone opening his window from the outside. That should probably worry him, but he’s too tired and high. He also has a pretty big hunch about who it is.

He’s right. Adrian pulls himself through the window and then closes it behind him. “Wow, this place is as easy to sneak into as it is to sneak out of,” he says. “That’s probably not good.”

“What is with you and hospital windows?” Chris asks.

Adrian nudges him. “Move over.”

“I fucking can’t,” Chris says.

“Yes, you can,” Adrian says. He shoves Chris over to make a little space for himself.

“I got fucking shot,” Chris complains.

“I know. That’s why I’m here. You also have a concussion. But don’t worry, it’s just a tiny one. Barely counts.”

Everyone seems to be very cavalier about Chris’s injuries tonight when he knows for a fact he almost died. Adrian nestles into Chris’s uninjured side. Well, okay. That’s fine, then.

Chris thinks for a second about putting up some kind of token protest, but he can’t even pretend right now. He’s so happy Adrian’s here. And he already showed his hand back when whatever her name is tried to ask him out. “Hi,” he says.

“You really don’t have a lot of different words tonight,” Adrian says. “But hi.”

Adrian’s in clean clothes now, though the clean clothes are still Chris’s. His shirt is Thin Lizzie this time. Chris isn’t entirely sure where he would’ve gotten it; he doesn’t even remember where that shirt was.

“I went to your place,” Adrian says. Chris doesn’t know if he was talking out loud again or if Adrian really can read his mind. “I let Eagly out for a little bit and told him you were hurt. I’ll bring him to see you tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” Chris says.

“No problem, dude. I’ll always take care of Eagly if you need me to.”

And that’s true. Chris knows he will. He rests his head against Adrian’s, feeling warm and happy. “Remember when I said I like Tanner?”

“Not really,” Adrian says.

“When we had sex,” Chris clarifies.

“You’re gonna have to narrow it down, P. We have sex a lot.” He picks up Chris’s hand to give it a high-five.

That’s very helpful. It’s definitely the kind of thing Chris likes to high-five over. But he’s trying to stay on topic here. He has a short window of time that he’ll be alert enough to talk at all.

Chris sighs. “I don’t know. Anyway, I don’t like Tanner.”

“Um, wow. Okay.” Adrian looks confused. He puts Chris’s hand back on the bed.

“No, I mean—it’s not Tanner or the pants. Just you.”

Adrian blinks a few times while he processes. “Oh,” he says. “Okay, I think you’re trying to be…romantic?”

“I don’t know,” Chris repeats. “I’m tired.”

“Does that mean I don’t need to wear the clothes and the glasses and do my hair with all that gel?” Adrian asks. “You’ll still want me anyway?”

“Yeah,” Chris says. “But if you wanted to wear the clothes. Or just the pants. Leave your glasses and your hair normal so you still look like you but in the tight pants.”

Adrian laughs a little. “Okay. Sometimes. Like, maybe on your birthday or something.”

“Cool,” Chris says, tired out from the long sentence before. He lets out a pained little sigh. He can’t actually feel any pain, but he knows he’d be in a lot of pain without the drugs.

“Man, it must be hard not healing fast,” Adrian muses. “I got stabbed twice and I’m already fine.”

“Thanks for rubbing it in,” Chris says.

“You’re welcome.”

“Wait, twice?” Chris asks. He remembers Adrian getting stabbed in the leg, kind of, and he sort of remembers that Adrian’s shirt—Chris’s shirt—was ripped open. But he doesn’t know if he ever asked about that.

“Oh, yeah, the one you saw, and then again when all the Nazis came to the house. I actually kinda just lied. I haven’t healed all the way, because I had to run over to the safehouse to get you instead of passing out right away. I heal faster the sooner I pass out after I get hurt. My feet were all cut up and burned, too, because I was fighting barefoot and there was all that fire. And I had a bunch of bruises from the stairs.”

“Sorry,” Chris says.

“That’s okay,” Adrian says. “My feet are already fine, and I’ll be all better tomorrow.”

“Good,” Chris says. “Ugh. I won’t be.”

“Well, you’ll be a little better by tomorrow,” Adrian says. “Won’t you? I mean, you’re already better than when we had to drag you out of the house. They gave you some blood to make up for what you lost when you got shot. That must’ve been what John was talking about when he said he’s going to get blood for all of us. I guess that helps?”

”Yeah, I guess so,” Chris says dryly.

”I definitely need to start lifting heavier if I’m going to have to drag you around a lot, because you weigh so much.”

“Muscle bulk,” Chris says. “I’m very dense.”

“Actually, you know what?” Adrian says. He shakes his head, holding onto Chris’s arm. “It would be better if that just didn’t happen a lot. I didn’t like that. I mean, I don’t mind rescuing you, and I didn’t even really mind sliding down the stairs with you, but maybe if we do it again it could be without you getting shot and being on fire?”

“You want to slide down the stairs again?” Chris asks.

“Well, it could be fun if it’s not life-or-death,” Adrian points out.

“That’s true,” Chris concedes. “We don’t have any stairs, though.”

“We could go to Adebayo’s house.”

“Okay,” Chris says. “Wait, I was on fire?”

“Uh, yeah,” Adrian says. “Your other arm’s all burned.”

“It did hurt,” Chris remembers.

“You should probably go to sleep now, dude,” Adrian says critically. “Your body and brain are all fucked up.”

“You’re the one keeping me awake,” Chris says. He’d be very exasperated if he had full control of his emotions right now.

“Well, stop answering me,” Adrian says. “You know I’m going to keep talking. Usually you just fall asleep anyway.”

Chris doesn’t have a response to that. He kind of is falling asleep. “Hey,” he mumbles. “Thanks for coming to save me.” Help save him, anyway, since Adebayo was working on it, but he’s too tired to say all of it.

Adrian goes up onto one elbow so he can lean down and kiss Chris. “I was really fucking scared,” he confesses, brushing his thumb across Chris’s chin. “You were, like, babbling all this nonsense about me being there when I wasn’t there. And you were talking to your dad. John almost started crying because he said you were going into the light or whatever.”

“I thought you were there already,” Chris admits. “I saw you.”

“You couldn’t see me,” Adrian counters. “I was at the other house.”

“No, I mean…” Chris doesn’t know how to explain it when his brain is barely working. “I thought I saw you. I was hurt and I wanted to see you.”

“Oh,” Adrian says. He kisses Chris again. Chris is a little slow to kiss him back, because it’s taking his body a few seconds to follow his brain’s commands. Adrian doesn’t seem perturbed. “You gotta wear the bulletproof vest next time, okay?”

“I don’t need it,” Chris protests weakly.

“Dude? Yeah, you do. Look at you right now. Please?”

“Fine,” Chris agrees. They’ll argue about it next time it comes up.

Adrian settles back down. “Goodnight, Chris.”

Chris turns his head as best he can to press his forehead against Adrian’s temple. “Night, Adrian.” He falls asleep to the comforting sound of Adrian’s breath in his ear.

Chris wakes up to Adrian’s voice. “You guys should really do a better job with security at this place.”

“Who the hell are you?” a woman asks. Chris cracks an eye open. She’s the morning nurse.

“Me?” Adrian asks. “I’m just a concerned citizen. He’s a very important superhero, you know. A lot of bad guys would love to get their hands on him.”

“You’d love to get your hands on me,” Chris mumbles.

“I already have my hands on you,” Adrian points out. Which is true. He’s holding onto Chris’s shoulder. He also has a knife. That’s usually what happens when someone wakes him up before his alarm. Chris’s subconscious has learned to duck before he’s fully awake.

“Vij, be cool,” Chris says. That’s got to be in the top 5 sentences he says most often in his life.

“I’m just saying. Either make sure the windows don’t open or get rid of the trees and ledges around this place. I climbed up in like ten seconds.”

“Climbed up—did you come through the window?” the nurse asks. “We’re on the fifth floor.”

“Did you forget people can climb?” Adrian asks. “We evolved from monkeys, you know.”

“What the hell? You need to leave,” the nurse tells him. “You can come back during visiting hours.”

“Fine,” Adrian says. “Um, what is your policy on pets?”

“You cannot bring an animal in here,” the nurse says.

“Hmm.” Adrian’s eyes cut over to the window. “Sure.”

Chris laughs a little. Seeing normal people react to Adrian is always funny. He crooks his finger at Adrian so Adrian will lean close enough for Chris to kiss him. He’d be kind of self-conscious about the nurse seeing, except she’s probably about to check his catheter. That’s his least favorite way anyone has ever looked at and touched his dick. A kiss is less embarrassing than that.

“I’ll be back,” Adrian says in a Terminator voice.

“You are so fucking stupid,” Chris says, but he’s clinging to Adrian while he says it, so it’s probably not very convincing.

“Come on, man, it’s Schwarzenegger!” Adrian says. “Classic.” He gives Chris another kiss and then says, “Wow. You need to brush your teeth.”

“Okay,” Chris says. “Sorry my hygiene isn’t up to your standards while I’m in the fucking hospital after I almost died.”

“It’s okay,” Adrian says, completely missing the sarcasm. “I like kissing you anyway.”

“You all healed up?” Chris asks. He rubs a hand over Adrian’s leg where he got stabbed. Or as close to it as Chris can get. Moving takes a lot of effort. And he only sort of remembers where Adrian got stabbed, anyway.

“Yep,” Adrian says. “Too bad I can’t teach you to heal or something.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” Chris says.

“Sir,” the nurse says, annoyed.

“Alright, go,” Chris says, contradicting his words by squeezing Adrian close again.

“You have to let go of me,” Adrian says, making no move to get away.

“Yeah,” Chris says. He presses a last kiss against the side of Adrian’s mouth and releases him. “But you’re really coming back, right?” His voice comes out a little needier than he’d like it to sound.

He just hates being in the hospital. He was alone last time for all those months, just the nurses and Jamil to keep him company. And they were cool enough, especially Jamil, but he wants Adrian to come back. He always wants Adrian to come back.

“Dude, I promise,” Adrian says, putting his hand on his heart. “Me and—” He looks at the nurse. “I will come back alone later.” He does another big, obvious wink. Then he climbs off the bed and puts his shoes on. He gives Chris a last wave over his shoulder as he walks out. At least he uses the door.

The nurse sighs. “That man is going to bring an animal in here, isn’t he?”

“No comment,” Chris says.

She rolls her eyes and sets to work checking on his bandages and all the tubes and shit he’s hooked up to. He hates this part. Having someone constantly poking around and checking on him is so annoying.

She does her thing and leaves him be. He sleeps a little more. He forgot how exhausting it is to heal. Adebayo, Harcourt, and Economos come right when they’re allowed to visit, but Adrian’s not with them.

“He’s coming,” Harcourt says, rolling her eyes. “Something about the window.”

“He had your eagle with him,” Economos says.

And then there’s Eagly, beating his wings at the window. Adebayo opens the window and Eagly screeches as he lands next to Chris on the bed.

“Hi, buddy,” Chris says. It takes so much effort to raise a hand to brush over his head. Eagly dips his head to help. Adrian climbs up through the window right after Eagly.

“Why doesn’t he ever attack you?” Economos asks.

“Because we’re friends,” Adrian says. “He’s my second-best friend. And I know he can’t confirm it, but I’m pretty sure I’m his, too.”

”Yeah, I think that’s true,” Chris says. He’s not even lying just to make Adrian feel good, either.

“How did you become friends with him?” Adebayo asks.

“I asked,” Adrian says. He comes over to the bed. “Like this. Hey, bro, can I sit up here?” Eagly doesn’t move. “So that’s a no,” Adrian explains. He starts to lean down over Chris and then he stops. “Am I allowed to kiss you in front of them?” he whispers loudly.

“We can hear you,” Harcourt says. “And we don’t care if you kiss.”

“I wasn’t asking for you,” Adrian says. “P freaks out about stuff sometimes.”

That’s an astute observation. Usually Adrian seems surprised and confused about Chris’s freakouts, so Chris is surprised he had the foresight to ask.

“Just come here, dumbass,” Chris says.

In truth, he is a little embarrassed. It’s not really that Adrian’s a dude or that Adrian’s…Adrian, it’s just that kissing anyone with an audience feels awkward. His dad always told him kissing was for pussies. Which is really fucking stupid. Kissing feels nice.

Adrian bends down and kisses him. Kissing Adrian feels so nice. Chris wants another one. And just after he thinks that, Adrian gives him another one. Chris makes a happy sound. It’s like it’s his lucky day or something. Minus the hospital and getting shot part. But the kisses are good. Almost make up for the rest of it.

”Okay, sure, yes, it feels great to get your kisses,” Adebayo says. “I’m not sure it makes up for getting shot.”

”Oh, fuck, did I say it out loud again?” Chris asks.

”Yep,” Adrian says, smiling wide. “And don’t worry, bro, I’ll kiss you as many times as you want. You don't even have to get shot.”

”Can the rest of you pretend you didn’t hear me?” Chris asks.

”So gladly,” Economos says.

“When are you getting out of here, anyway?” Adrian asks. “How long does it take to get better?”

“I was here for months last time,” Chris says.

“Months?” Adrian asks, horrified. “Dude, no!”

“Relax,” Harcourt says. “He got shot in the neck last time and crushed by a building. He’ll probably get to go home the day after tomorrow.”

Adrian sighs. “Healing takes so long. Three whole days when you don't even have internal bleeding or anything?”

“He’s not going to be healed by then,” Economos says. “He’ll just get to finish healing at home.”

Adrian looks at Chris. “Wait…seriously?”

“Did you miss the months of rehab I had to do?” Harcourt asks.

“God, how do you guys live like this?” Adrian asks, face pinched up. He’s so cute. Chris wants to kiss him again. He waits for a second, but no kiss comes his way. He must be mastering keeping his thoughts internal again.

“The limitations of the human body are a trial on us all,” Adebayo says.

“Well,” Adrian says smugly. “Not all.”

“Shut up,” Economos says.

“That’s not very nice, honey bear,” Chris says. Adrian laughs wildly.

”You know, if we have to be here anyway, maybe we should try poisoning you,” Adebayo says.

”Oh, yeah!” Adrian says, all excited. “We totally should.”

”Adrian, I was kidding,” Adebayo says. “I really don’t think we should do trial and error with your healing.”

”Why not?” Adrian asks. “If we don’t experiment, it ends up being trial and error when I get big-time hurt, anyway.”

”Why don’t you just try harder not to get big-time hurt?” Harcourt suggests.

Adrian makes a face. “I don’t really get the point of that.”

”The point is you don’t accidentally die,” Economos says.

Chris makes an unhappy noise. “No, don’t die,” he mumbles.

Then he realizes he just said that out loud and thinks that might be embarrassing. Everything feels kind of far away. Before anyone can respond to him, the nurse comes in and stops in her tracks.

“Seriously?”

“Oh, fuck, Eagly, we gotta go!” Adrian runs to the window and jumps out. Eagly swoops after him.

The nurse blinks. “Whoa. That is not at all what I expected to happen.”

“You kinda get used to it,” Chris says.

“Do you really?” Adebayo asks.

“No, I guess not,” Chris admits. He can’t stop himself from smiling. And if anyone asks, he’s not even going to blame it on the drugs.

Chapter Text

Chris is getting very tired of lying around doing nothing. He’s especially getting tired of being woken up by the blender. The blender he does not own, that materialized in his kitchen one afternoon after he caught Adrian reading some article about nutritional needs and healing.

“I’m not drinking that shit!” Chris yells when the blender stops.

“Yes, you are!” Adrian yells back. “Come on, dude, I’ll drink it with you.”

“It’s nasty,” Chris protests.

Adrian comes into the bedroom with a tall glass full of what he’s been calling “Chris’s healing smoothie.” He makes a nice sight in just his boxers, but the smoothie absolutely ruins it.

It would be fine, just regular berries and yogurt and protein powder, except Adrian adds in some kind of herb blend he got from a questionable website and a scoop of something in a tub with the label “GREENS” in Adebayo’s handwriting. They both refuse to tell Chris what those greens are.

All Chris knows is they aren’t the greens he likes. He’s been forbidden from alcohol and weed for the past three weeks. He’s ignored plenty of doctors’ orders in his life. But this time, Adrian’s here to enforce those orders. And he fights dirty. He’s been an absolute freak since he realized how serious healing is for everyone else.

Chris can’t even get annoyed at Adebayo for encouraging this. He thought she brought those greens over to troll him, but it turns out she’s actually genuinely concerned for him, too. She and Adrian spent an entire afternoon “researching” before they came up with this smoothie shit. Chris is pretty sure none of what they researched was medically sound.

Eagly’s hanging out with Chris on the bed, but he takes off as soon as he sees the smoothie. The smell alone is too much for him.

“Okay, here we go, drink up,” Adrian says. He puts the straw in Chris’s mouth even though Chris is fully capable of using his hands and drinking without a straw. Adrian claims the straw makes it fun. “Yum, slurp, slurp.”

“Shut the fuck up, Annie Wilkes,” Chris says. It’s possible he’s not the nicest patient.

“For the millionth time, I don’t know who that is. But I’ll make a deal with you to shut the fuck up for one minute for every swallow you take,” Adrian says.

“Will you really?” Chris asks skeptically.

“You’ll never know until you try.”

That means he won’t. Chris made the mistake of admitting—while under the influence of pain drugs—that he likes hearing Adrian talk, even when he acts annoyed. Now Adrian won’t let him take it back. And okay, sure, it’s mostly true. But Chris gets a little embarrassed about admitting shit like that.

“It’s so fucking gross,” Chris complains.

“I’ll give you a kiss when you finish,” Adrian says, smiling winningly.

“You’ll give me a kiss anyway,” Chris pouts.

“True,” Adrian admits. “How about I’ll give you a mouth kiss and a chocolate kiss?”

“Chocolate?” Chris perks up. Adrian’s been very strict about what Chris has been allowed to eat during his recovery. Chocolate has not been on the approved list so far.

“But you have to drink the whole thing,” Adrian says.

Chris groans. Then he holds his breath and chugs it, ignoring the straw. God, it’s so thick. And both chalky and chunky. He learned a week ago not to try to chew it. Adrian hands him a glass of water when he’s done and Chris holds his breath through swallowing that. He still gags when he comes up for air.

“So good!” Adrian praises, clapping his hands together. “Okay, which kiss do you want first?”

“Chocolate,” Chris says instantly.

Adrian tips his head. “Okay. Not what I thought you’d say. But fine.”

He materializes a chocolate kiss from somewhere and hands it over. Chris wonders if he had that in his boxers the way he keeps a knife next to his balls. It’s not going to make Chris not eat the chocolate. But how would it stay put? Won’t it be melted?

Adrian raises his eyebrows at the way Chris is just sitting there, contemplating whether he’s about to eat dick chocolate. “Do you need me to unwrap it for you?”

“Adrian,” Chris says, restrained. A man’s not even allowed to get lost in thought in his own home anymore.

“Okay, okay,” Adrian says. “Sorry for worrying about you, man.”

“You can worry about me without treating me like a baby,” Chris points out, popping the chocolate into his mouth. He actually moans. It’s so good.

He doesn’t even care if it was next to Adrian’s dick. Not like Chris doesn’t enjoy that in his mouth, too. Then he gets a mental image of Adrian’s dick covered in chocolate and almost moans again. They have not been having any kind of sex while Chris has been healing, and it has been unfair.

Adrian shrugs. “I just thought, you know.” He looks embarrassed. Chris stops thinking about dick chocolate and pays attention. It’s not very typical for Adrian to get embarrassed. Everything he says next comes out in a rush. “Well, I never got sick, but I got food poisoning once when I was a kid and my mom, like, rubbed my back and brought me stuff and babied me. And it was kinda nice. And I figured there’s no way anyone ever did that for you. So maybe you’d want to be babied.”

That’s so nice it almost makes Chris tear up. He’ll blame it on the concussion recovery. Apparently emotional outbursts are common. When they found that out, Economos had muttered, “How will we be able to tell what’s normal and what’s the concussion?”

“Oh,” Chris says. He clears his throat. “Wow. Thanks.”

“I guess I overdid it a little,” Adrian says, looking down at the ground.

Chris sighs. “A little,” he says honestly. “But you’re right. No one ever did that for me. And…” He sighs again. “It is kinda nice.”

That’s not a complete lie. It was nicer at the very beginning, before the novelty wore off a bit, but it’s never a bad thing when Adrian wakes him up with little kisses on his neck. It’s annoying that he’s doing it every two hours all night long when the doctor said that’s not even something they do for concussions anymore, but still.

Chris remembers when he got chicken pox as a kid. He was six and Keith was eight. Keith tried to make him soup and burned his hand on the stove, and then Auggie yelled at Chris for being too big of a pussy to deal with being sick so Keith hurt himself.

Now Chris really is tearing up, and he knows that’s the concussion or the pain med withdrawal or just the general shittiness of recovery. It’s not a fun memory, sure, but it’s pretty tame for him.

“Aw, dude, come on,” Adrian says, touching his shoulder. “It’s okay.”

“I’m not—” Chris clears his throat again. “It’s the concussion!”

“Okay,” Adrian says. “You want that mouth kiss now?”

Chris nods. Adrian gets up on the bed with him and kisses him, as promised, and then he keeps kissing him, and then his hands start heading south.

“Oh, God, are you finally going to let me use my dick again?” Chris asks breathlessly. It’s been a long three weeks. Well, okay, his dick has really only started getting interested again in the last week or so, but still.

“Maybe,” Adrian says. “We gotta see how you feel.”

“I’ll feel great,” Chris promises. “I bet it’ll make me heal faster.”

“P, your core muscles have a hole in them.” Adrian pulls back. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” he frets.

“Adrian, I’m going to die if I don’t get off soon,” Chris says. “And by now it’s really only like half a hole. It’s closing up! But, dude, I haven’t gone three weeks without at least jerking off since my balls dropped. I jerked off sooner after I got shot in the neck last time. And a fucking building fell on me. I’m going to get cancer. Do you want me to get ball cancer? That’s what happens if you leave blue balls too long.”

“That’s not true,” Adrian says. “I read on the internet that that’s a lie.”

“It feels really true,” Chris says, leaning back in for more kisses. He’s definitely not going to convince Adrian without more of those. Plus, Chris just wants them. “And you read the pinky toe thing on the internet. There’s tons of weirdos on the internet who don’t want you to know the truth.”

“Fuck,” Adrian groans. “God, I really miss sex.”

“Wait,” Chris says, pulling back a bit. “You haven’t been having sex, either?”

Adrian freezes. “Um…”

“I never said you couldn’t go find someone,” Chris points out. He certainly never told Adrian to go find someone, but that’s not the point.

They have not discussed monogamy. They have not discussed anything, actually. Adrian just came home from the hospital with him and hasn’t left except to go to work, and Chris has been afraid to say anything.

Adrian sighs. “Dude, don’t freak out, okay? But I don’t want anyone else. Even when we can’t have sex. I’d rather stay here and not have sex with you than go have sex with someone else. Is that bad?”

Chris can’t even talk for a second. He shakes his head. “Not bad,” he says. It’s only the best thing he’s heard in weeks.

Adrian looks at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Chris says. He swallows hard. “That’s—when you were undercover. Seeing you with Economos. Even though I knew it was fake. I…” Chris shrugs.

“Oh my God, did you get jealous?” Adrian asks. He’s grinning.

Chris shrugs. “I guess.” He’s embarrassed now.

Adrian laughs, which doesn’t make him feel much better. “You totally didn’t have to get jealous!” Adrian says. “Like, for a bunch of reasons, but also, he isn’t even into dudes.”

Chris feels so stupid and cheesy, but he can’t help but mumble, “I think you could turn him.”

Adrian laughs again, wild and loud. “Holy fuck, P, I had no idea you were that into me.”

“Okay,” Chris says, rolling his eyes. “Like you’re not that into me.”

“Oh, no, I’m definitely that into you,” Adrian agrees easily. “I mean, John’s cool, and we’re friends. But every time I had to touch him or kiss him I just wished it was you. I’m probably more into you than you’re into me.”

”I don’t know about that,” Chris says. It seems like a no-brainer, since Adrian is a lot more obvious about it, but Chris is getting memories back from the mission and he knows he’s pretty into Adrian. It’s less embarrassing to think about that with Adrian admitting everything so freely.

”Dude, no way. I’m so into you. Like, I’m ‘follow you around praying I’ll get to suck your dick’ into you.”

“Well, good news,” Chris says, feeling warm and happy and definitely wanting to feel warmer. “I’m praying for you to suck my dick right now.”

It makes Adrian laugh again. “I know.” He bites his lip. “Oh, God, I really want to. But I’m trying to be all responsible and shit.”

“We’ve been responsible for three weeks,” Chris points out, letting his thumb brush over Adrian’s nipple. Adrian shivers. “Come on,” Chris coaxes, bending his head to suck at Adrian’s neck. Adrian’s practically powerless against that.

“Oh, man,” Adrian says. He tilts his head to give Chris better access and rests one hand on Chris’s thigh.

“I can take it,” Chris promises, drifting one hand down to the waistband of Adrian’s boxers. “I’ve healed so much in three weeks. You took such good care of me so I’d heal, right? Took better care of me than anyone else could, didn’t you?”

“Fuck,” Adrian groans, hand squeezing Chris’s leg. “Okay, but if it hurts, you have to tell me, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Chris lies. He’ll pass out from pain or blood loss or something before he does that. He takes Adrian's glasses and puts them on the bedside table, in the space he cleared off just for them.

Then he gets back to the important business of kissing Adrian. Adrian must’ve been pretty serious about missing sex, because he pushes Chris down onto the bed pretty much right away. He holds all his own weight with his right arm braced above Chris’s head, and he uses his left arm to hold Chris’s hips down.

“Don’t use your abs,” he says into Chris’s throat, where he’s kissing his way down.

“Jesus,” Chris hisses. “I’m not going to last very long, V.”

“So desperate,” Adrian murmurs. He’s straddling Chris’s hips now, still not letting his weight rest on Chris, and the muscles in his thighs are standing out. Chris thinks this image could probably keep his spank bank full for a year, at least.

“Super fucking desperate,” Chris agrees readily. “I’m dying here.”

“Okay,” Adrian says, still holding Chris’s hips down. That’s a good call, because Chris definitely wants to arch up. “But you better be good. You gonna follow the rules?”

“Oh, fuck,” Chris moans.

Adrian stops. He tilts his head. “Well, are you?”

“What fucking rules?” Chris asks. His poor scrambled brains can’t handle this. He thought Adrian was just being sexy, but of course he was fucking serious. Adrian doesn’t joke about rules, even the ones he made up himself. Actually, especially those.

“Don’t use your abs, hold still, and tell me if it hurts,” Adrian lists off.

“Okay, okay, I’ll follow the rules,” Chris babbles. “Would you please get to work?”

“Do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life,” Adrian says with a smirk.

Chris doesn’t get a chance to respond to that before Adrian’s shimmying down and taking Chris into his mouth. It actually does kind of hurt his side, because Chris is tensing his core even without meaning to, but he breaks the last rule and doesn’t say anything. Sue him.

He was right; he barely makes it thirty seconds. He’d be embarrassed if he didn’t have tons of excuses backing him up.

“Oh, wow, Chris,” Adrian says. “That was fast.”

“You’re going to make fun of me?” Chris asks, outraged.

“No,” Adrian says. He sounds offended. “Of course not! I thought it just meant I’m really good at sucking dick.”

“Oh,” Chris says. “Well, that is definitely true.”

He starts to move, ready to return the favor, and Adrian stops him. “What are you doing?”

“Come on,” Chris says. “Let me take care of you.”

“No way,” Adrian says. “You broke the last rule. I could totally tell.”

“So you’re giving yourself blue balls to punish me?” Chris asks. “That’s fucked up, dude.”

“I’m not punishing you,” Adrian says, rolling his eyes. “I’m protecting you.”

“I do not want to be protected from your dick,” Chris says. “What if I just, you know. Hold still and keep my mouth open.”

“Holy shit,” Adrian says, eyes glazing over. Chris can tell he’s picturing it.

“Yeah, go for it,” Chris says.

”I don’t want to hurt you,” Adrian says, biting his lip. "Your body is, like, not good at healing. I don't want to make it worse."

”My body is perfect," Chris protests. "You've just got superhuman healing. But it's not going to make it worse. You know I can take it,” Chris lures him. He kisses Adrian and pulls back to make Adrian follow him. “You’ll be doing all the work.”

Adrian deliberates for another half a second, but Chris gives him a well-timed squeeze that has him giving up any semblance of being responsible. It’s only fair, really. For one thing, Adrian deserves a reward for taking care of Chris. For another, Chris deserves a reward for putting up with Adrian taking care of him, and they’re both going to enjoy this. Really, it’s win-win.

Adrian lasts longer than Chris did, but honestly not that much longer. They’ve been sharing a bed and touching and kissing without fucking for three weeks. They’ve never even gone that long hanging out together without hooking up for the entire time Adrian’s been Vigilante, let alone with kissing and touching. So they’re both pretty frustrated.

Adrian actually checks Chris’s fucking staples before he’ll just lie down beside him. “Didn’t pop your staples,” Adrian says. He’s still a little breathless. “That’s good.” He puts his arms around Chris and holds onto him, ignoring that they’re both sweaty.

It’s pretty much time to get his staples out anyway, but Adrian’s been very concerned about keeping them in as long as the doctor orders. He seems to be under the impression that Chris will try to take them out himself or something if Adrian doesn’t keep an eye on that.

“So how long are you going to make me wait before you’ll fuck me again?” Chris asks. His voice is absolutely wrecked.

“Oh, God,” Adrian says, hands tightening on Chris’s back. Then he shakes his head and pulls back a little to point a finger menacingly in Chris’s face. “No, don’t use your dick hypnosis on me, dude. Not until the doctor says it’s okay.”

“I’ll call her right now,” Chris offers.

Adrian snorts. “You will not,” he says, wrapping Chris up again. “You’re falling asleep.”

It’s true. That’s the highest Chris’s heart rate has gone in three weeks. It was absolutely worth it. But he’s definitely going to crash now.

“Stay here,” Chris mumbles. He doesn’t even really need to ask, because he knows Adrian will, but it feels like a good idea to remind him Chris wants him here.

“Okay,” Adrian agrees easily. He moves them both, carefully, so Chris is lying on his back and Adrian’s on his stomach with his arm draped over Chris’s chest. He sighs contentedly. “Well, I’m not glad you got shot,” he says. “But overall I’m glad I did this undercover mission.”

Chris huffs. He has to do it kind of carefully, because his side actually really hurts now. He can’t tell Adrian that. “I’m just collateral damage to you crossing spy shit off your bucket list?”

“What?” Adrian asks. “I meant because it made you jealous.”

Chris rolls his head over to knock it into Adrian’s. “Not nice,” he admonishes.

“Watch your head, dude, your concussion! My skull’s super hard. I drank so much milk as a kid.”

“My skull’s just as hard as yours,” Chris says.

“Well, I’ve never gotten a concussion that lasted three weeks,” Adrian says.

“Neither have I,” Chris points out. “You just keep ignoring the doctor when she says I’m pretty much better.”

Adrian pinches him, very lightly. Chris headbutts him again, but he does it softer this time. Mostly because he doesn’t want to hurt either of them, but also because his muscles feel like liquid. Sleep is pulling him under fast.

“Anyway,” Adrian says. “I meant because after you got jealous, you wanted to be with me.”

Chris is trying to stay awake for this. This feels like an important conversation. But he is very tired, and Adrian is all snuggled up beside him, and he feels so very comfortable.

“Mmhmm,” Chris says.

Adrian pokes him. “Are you actually falling asleep or just pretending so you don’t have to talk about anything?”

That makes Chris laugh. What a good strategy. He’ll have to remember that. He probably won't be able to get away with it once he's all healed up, but he can milk it for a while. “Mmm,” is all he can manage to say, eyes drooping.

“Okay,” Adrian says. He kisses Chris’s temple and rests their heads together, gently. “Let’s take a nap. Even though you just woke up. You need to be in a good mood when everyone comes over later. Harcourt said she wasn’t going to come anymore if you’re always pissy. I’m pretty sure she was lying, though.”

So maybe Chris has been getting a little cranky about being laid up. He thinks that’s understandable. He’s definitely going to be in a good mood today, though.

“Mmm,” Chris agrees.

“Did I suck your brains out and turn you into a zombie?” Adrian checks.

“Mmhmm.”

Adrian grins. “Well, a zombie wouldn’t admit it. So I guess we’re safe.”

Chris has a few critiques about his knowledge of zombies. That doesn’t sound true to what Chris has heard about zombies. But he can’t keep his eyes open, and he can’t really talk. That’s okay. He can go to sleep with Adrian beside him. He knows when he wakes up, Adrian will still be there.

That kind of thing used to feel claustrophobic. He always wanted to have a plan to get away, an escape route if someone was getting too clingy. But Adrian is quite literally clinging to him right now, and Chris wouldn’t have it any other way.

Even with Adrian hovering every time Chris takes a step and making him drink that nasty concoction, even with all the pain when Chris tries to move too fast and how frustrating it is to be knocked down, Chris has never been happier.

He did something really good. He helped take down all those Nazis. He protected Adebayo. He protected a lot of other people, too.

So yeah, sure. He can stop being frustrated when Adrian wants to baby him and Economos brings them dinner and Harcourt brings them weapons to clean so they’ll still feel included and Adebayo and Keeya bring over chick flicks and make them watch movies without a single explosion. He can rest, for now. He can let them all take care of him. And most of all, he can let himself enjoy it.

He manages to move his hand enough to thread his fingers through Adrian’s. Adrian smiles sleepily, warm and slack and comfortable beside Chris. Chris almost can’t believe it’s only been three weeks of this. He feels like he’s been falling asleep beside Adrian his whole life.

”Honey bear,” Adrian murmurs, laughing a little. “My real one.”

”Not a bear,” Chris protests hazily. He’s very dedicated to the upkeep on his body hair and Adrian acted like the hair was a big part of it. He can’t articulate any of that right now; they’re both more asleep than awake.

”Okay,” Adrian agrees. He presses his face closer into Chris’s neck. “Just my honey, then.”

Chris isn’t sure he responds before he falls asleep for real, a smile stretching across his face. Honey. He’s never gotten called a lot of pet names. He never knew he wanted to be called stuff like that. But he likes it. Yeah. He can let himself enjoy all this, for sure. For as long as he gets it. And he doesn’t even feel panicky when he hopes that’s a very, very long time.