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“I don’t have emotions like people do.”
———
“You want to say anything dude?” Chris was wearing a black button down shirt tucked into his nicest jeans. Adrian shifted awkwardly on his feet, uncomfortable in his Vigilante costume. No one told him he was supposed to dress nice.
“Um,” Adrian looked at the small shoebox that rested on the ground in front of them. “You were a good guy or um alien I mean, Murn. Thank you for sacrificing your life for Leota and Harcourt. That was super cool of you. I would have been really sad if they had died.”
Out of the corner of his eye he could see Emilia throwing her hands up in the air and Leota wincing slightly. Maybe he shouldn’t have added that last part?
“Ok that’s enough,” Chris clapped Adrian on the back. “Economos, grab the other shovel.”
“Why can’t Harcourt do it,” Economos whined.
“Cause we are fucking gentlemen! What the fuck dude. Emilia is still recovering!” Chris looked affronted.
“Thanks Chris,” Emilia rolled her eyes, wincing slightly as she lowered herself to the ground next to Leota. They all watched solemnly as Chris and Economos sweated through their nice clothes, burying Murn in the ground outside of Chris’ trailer.
———
“Momma,” Adrian plucked the scratchy material of his jeans away from his leg, watching his mom sighing into her wine glass.
“What,” her tone was flat. She wasn’t smiling.
“What does ‘if it walks like a duck, it’s a duck mean’?” He gripped his grey crayon, trying his best to draw the straight lines of a big knife, looking at the one next to the sink in the kitchen for reference.
“It means… if you are acting like a dumbass, you are a dumbass,” she quaffed the rest of her wine, slamming the glass down a little too hard on the table.
“What’s wrong?” Adrian blinked up at her.
“What the fuck do you think is wrong?” His mom was glaring at him, the dark circles under her eyes looked like half moons.
This seems like a trick question. Did she not like the drawing I did of her drinking out of the wine bottle?
“Your father fucking left me,” she hissed, she was so close that he could smell the alcohol on her breath.
“But I didn’t do that,” he was confused.
“Jesus Christ,” his mom pushed the chair away from the kitchen table, making a loud scraping noise that hurt Adrian’s ears. Stumbling slightly, she disappeared into her messy bedroom down the hall.
Adrian sat, gripping his crayon. Waiting.
———
“So my physical therapist recommended I try a modern dance class she is teaching at Evergreen Community College,” Harcourt took a sip from her beer slouching back across the vinyl at Fennel Fields. Adrian didn’t exactly love being here on his day off, but Leota loved the breadsticks. And it was a good opportunity to rub his friends in the faces of his coworkers.
“Babe,” Keeya swatted Leota lightly on the shoulder. “We should totally do that.”
“Uh, no thanks,” Leota scoffed. “You know I prefer kickboxing.”
“I’ll do it with you guys,” Chris said excitedly.
“You,” Harcourt had a deadpan expression on her face.
“Yah! I would totally like to learn how to dance. The football team in high school took ballet for a semester. It was super fun,” Chris was grinning.
“Then it’s settled,” Keeya clapped her hands. “You, me, and Emilia. Modern dancers.” Chris and Keeya high-fived across the table.
“Whatever,” Leota said. “You all have fun with that. Economos, Adrian, feel free to come hang out with me and the fur kids on those nights if you want.”
“Ok,” Adrian said. He liked walking the dogs.
———
“Adrian?” Ms. Jamison’s voice was sharp, her bushy eyebrows drawn together. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”
“Not really,” he answered. He could feel a bruise purpling under his eye. I’ll get in trouble if I tell you I hit a guy who was stealing a second graders lunch. The little kid probably weighed forty pounds. He needs like all the calories he can get.
“Tell me what happened,” she said patiently.
“Are you upset?” He said instead.
“No Adrian. But I would like to know why your mind instantly went there,” her eyes were a pretty color, like his mom's black coffee after a night of drinking the whole wine bottle. Really deep brown. His eyes flitted away. Looking at someone’s eyes was like staring at the sun too long. And he didn’t want his eyes to burn up.
“It seems like you have some hyper-vigilant tendencies.” She sighed, scribbling something on a bright yellow pad.
Hyper-vigilant. That sounds good. Means you are super on top of shit.
“Cool,” Adrian smiled.
Vigilant.
———
“So,” Leota was looking at him with what thought was supposed to be a significant look. “How are you and Chris doing?”
“Good,” Adrian said, unsure how much he was supposed to say. “We have a lot of sex. Do you think he wants to have sex with Emilia?”
“Jesus, Adrian,” Leota rubbed her forehead while reaching for two mugs from a kitchen cupboard. “I think Chris wants to have sex with a doughnut.”
“I don’t think Chris would have sex with a doughnut,” Adrian said.
“I know. I was being facetious,” Leota cut a glance to him as she filled up the kettle from the tap.
“Oh,” Adrian shifted. He wished Economos hadn’t bailed on ‘modern dance hang out night’ to go put flea collars on strays with Jenny. Then he wouldn’t have to talk about this anymore. Economos always stuck his fingers in his ears when people talked about sex.
“If you’re asking, do I think he would cheat on you? No, I don't think so. He strikes me as a very loyal person,” She sighed as she grabbed the honey from on top of the fridge. “Herbal?”
“Do you have roobois? I don’t like chamomile,” she nodded and started rummaging through another cabinet. Leota and Keeya had a lot of stuff. Not as much stuff as Chris had though.
“My mom likes this tea,” Leota was looking pensively at the little box in her hand. “Guess she won’t be drinking it anytime soon, you may as well have the last bag.”
“Have you spoken to your mother recently?” Adrian asked. It seemed like the appropriately sympathetic reaction, he hoped his face looked correct.
“No,” Leota turned away to pick up the steaming kettle, voice stiff. “No, I haven’t.”
“Yah, I haven’t talked to my mom in a long time too. She really hates me.” Adrian watched the water fill up his mug, leeching color from the thin paper teabag. “I think because I look like my dad.”
“Parents man,” Leota raised her mug and clicked it gently against his. Adrian smiled.
Is this what it’s like to have friends?
———
“Just cause I like sucking cock doesn’t mean I’m not a man,” his dad scoffed. “Is that what your mother is saying?”
“She mostly just calls you an asshole and then drinks a bunch of Chardonnay,” Adrian pushed up his glasses and cocked the glock one handed.
“Sounds like Renee,” his dad rolled his eyes. “What about your brother. How’s Gut?” His dad fired his gun, taking out the old blender in a spectacular fashion.
“He says you’re a faggot and drinks whisky,” Adrian clipped the tree branch, missing the microwave next to it.
“Try again son,” his dad encouraged. “Looks like my whole family is alcoholics. You drinking away your sorrows too, kid?”
“I don’t have any sorrows,” Adrian finally hit the microwave. “And I don’t like how alcohol tastes. Sometimes I drink rum and coke with a lot of coke.”
“Glad someone still talks to me,” his dad chuckled. “Hey, want to meet here next weekend? Work on your form?”
“Sure,” Adrian said. “Will you teach me how to use a knife too?”
“Sure kid,” his dad ruffled his curls, looking out across the junkyard.
———
“Amber,” Adrian stood in front of her, one hand on his hip. “Focus. Which movie did you want to watch?” He waved Force Awakens and The Last Jedi in front of her nose, trying to draw her gaze away from Chris smoking on the bed.
“Um. Let’s watch the one where he has his shirt off,” she said, tugging on her pretty pink nightie and flopping down next to Chris.
“The Last Jedi then,” Adrian removed the DVD from the case and scrambled over to the TV, before joining them both on the bed, laying his head across Amber’s lap. She gently tugged the back of his mask up, snuck her hand under, and started petting his sweaty hair.
Adrian sighed and looked up at Chris who was smiling down at him with a contented expression on his face.
Is he happy? I hope he’s happy.
———
“Hey Gut,” Adrian startled at the loud voice, accidently dropping The Two Towers . “Who’s this nerd?”
There was a guy in his living room. A really big guy. A really big and handsome guy.
“That’s my loser brother, Adrian,” Gut came down the hall, scratching his balls unceremoniously through his rancid looking basketball shorts. “He’s into a bunch of dumb, faggy shit.”
“Huh,” the guy looked him up and down. Adrian felt weirdly hot at his scrutiny. “Whatever, did you get the firecrackers?”
“Sure thing, Chris,” Gut shook the bag he had with him, a toothy grin splitting his face.
“May I come with you?” It took Adrian a few seconds to realize he had spoken.
“I fucking guess. Don’t slow us down or whatever,” Gut sneered, pushing past Adrian and knocking him off balance.
Chris looked at him, head cocked as Gut slipped out the door.
“You’re weird dude,” Chris said.
“I know. A lot of people tell me that. How did you get your muscles to be so big?” Adrian asked.
“Um. Like working out and shit. Obviously,” Chris rolled his eyes, and stepped closer to Adrian. He raised his hand. What’s happening here? Suddenly, he flicked Adrian on the nose, bumping his glasses closer to his eyes, making Adrian blink, before he turned and left the same way as Gut.
———
“Hey,” Chris wasn’t looking at him. Which was unusual. “So I was thinking. Do you wanna like. Move in here?”
“Is this a rhetorical question?” Adrian cocked his head.
“No,” Chris’ face was pink.
“Oh. No I don’t really,” Adrian resumed petting Eagly, he could hear Chris shifting behind him.
———
“Come on loser,” Chris shouted. “You going to swim in all your clothes or some shit?” He was stripping off his briefs revealing a large flaccid cock.
Gut and his friends were laughing and splashing each other in the murky water of the reservoir. Adrian didn’t particularly want to swim, but Chris had told him he would teach him how to throw a punch if he came.
Slowly, he started to tug off the sweater he was still wearing from Christmas despite the heat of summer. His dad had knitted it for him and it was really soft. Hopping on one foot, he finally managed to divest himself of all his clothes. Carefully, he folded his glasses and placed them gently on top of his sweater, jeans, and briefs. He looked up to find the blurry outline of Chris standing close to him.
“Fucking come on thimble dick,” he pushed Adrian, almost sending him into the dirt.
Gut and his friends hooted and hollered in helpless laughter presumably at Chris’ jab. Adrian didn’t understand what was so funny. His dick was clearly much smaller than Chris’. But it made sense as he was also approximately half his body weight and height too. Adrian shrugged and scrambled to catch up with Chris’ long strides towards the water.
———
“I know… yah. No, you’re right. I… ok… it’s hard, dude, Jesus…Yes, I wanna be a better person…Ok ok,” Chris was pacing around outside on the phone with someone. Probably Leota. Chris was more of a texting person usually, but he really liked talking to Leota. Adrian was straining to hear better when he heard Chris sigh and move towards the trailer.
Frantically, he scrambled back to the bed, closing his eyes as he heard the front door bang open. He scrunched his eyes closed tighter, hoping he looked peaceful in repose.
“Dude,” Chris said loudly, “I can tell you’re awake.”
“What, how? I’m totally asleep!” Adrian snapped.
“Well, for one thing, you just started talking! Sleeping people don’t talk!” Chris’ voice was raised.
“You don’t know that! I could be sleep talking!” Adrian sat up and opened his eyes, realizing his cover was essentially blown.
“Look. Can we like. Communicate.” He looked serious, standing there in his tighty-whities, glaring at Adrian.
“Sure,” Adrian replied. “Are you mad at me?”
“No. I’m not mad. Kinda hurt a little bit.” Chris wiped his hands down his face revealing slightly pink cheeks.
“I hurt you?” Adrian clarified.
“Yah kinda!” Chris threw his hands up in the air. “You know when you said you didn’t want to move in with me.” His voice trailed off quietly.
“But,” he rallied. “Leota said we have to ‘communicate’ cause that’s what healthy couples do. And she pointed out that you aren’t exactly great at reading a room. So, I should like, ask you what you mean and shit. Fuck! This is exhausting!” He finished, clearly deflated.
Adrian stared. Processing.
“You are upset I don’t want to move here,” he needed to get this straight.
“Yah, dude,” Chris mumbled. “I thought you liked me.”
“I do like you. I love you,” Adrian said. This elicited a quiet gasp from Chris. “Sometimes I need my own space. And your trailer is very small. And messy. And sometimes loud. You aren’t very quiet. My apartment is clean and quiet and has all the stuff I need. My stuff wouldn’t fit here.”
Chris was staring at the ground, hands clenched.
“Can you say that thing again?” He said hoarsely. “The thing you said at the very beginning.” He clarified quickly, sensing Adrian’s next question.
“I do like you. I love you,” Adrian repeated dutifully.
A big smile stretched across Chris’ face as he made his way over to the bed. Gently, he bent down and pressed his lips to Adrian’s.
“Are we cool?” Adrian asked. Wanting to make sure.
“We’re cool dude,” his voice sounded a little choked. “Thanks for communicating all that shit.”
———
“Don’t fucking curl your fingers inside the fist dude. You’ll break your fucking thumb that way,” Chris was smiling, his front teeth were slightly crooked. “Ok, now try to punch me.”
Adrian obliged, throwing his skinny arm with all his might towards Chris’ much bigger body. Easily, Chris caught his wrist, his big rough fingers surprisingly gentle.
“Try again dude. That was a good try though,” he added encouragingly.
It wasn’t any better the second time.
That night laying in bed, Adrian kept replaying the moment when Chris grabbed his wrist over and over. His body felt hot and overly sensitive.
———
“Oooooh that says Disney??” Adrian was surprised.
“Of course it says fucking Disney! What the fuck else would it be saying?” Chris’ eyes were all bugged out of his head, he really didn’t look as handsome when he was wearing his angry face. The screen was paused on the logo for Disney +, because apparently this was an important conversation.
“I thought the first letter was a cursive ‘G’,” the more you know I guess.
“You thought the logo said Gisney all these years. Are you fucking serious? That makes no sense!” Leota and Keeya were laughing helplessly, the fur babies had their heads cocked. Emerson was curled up on Adrian’s lap, confusion in his eyes. I know buddy, I don’t think it’s that funny either.
“I guess I just never gave it much thought!” There were more important things to consider in life than that ugly logo.
“Ok dude. Well, yes. It says Disney. Duh,” Chris rolled his eyes and clicked play, starting Beauty and the Beast.
Movie nights with Keeya and Leota had become a weekly tradition, and tonight was Adrian’s favorite princess movie. He was warm and comfortable, a dog in his lap, a boyfriend, and friends. Adrian sighed contentedly and slumped back against the couch from the floor, leaning against Chris’ leg slightly. He felt Chris’ big blunt fingers start to play with his hair gently, and smiled happily.
———
He had been working at Fennel Fields for a few months when he saw Chris again. He hadn’t seen him since they were kids. Excitement flooded his veins. Adrian had been carefully following Peacemakers exploits, waiting nervously for his time to try and insert himself into his orbit. He wanted so badly to help him. And now Adrian was an adult, with knives and guns and swords and a costume that his dad had made for him. It was time.
Vigilante. Because I am vigilant.
———
“Dude,” Chris looked a little queasy. “I think that’s enough. He’s dead.”
Adrian snapped his gaze away from where his sword was protruding from the guy's chest to Chris.
“Oh, ok,” Adrian tugged the sword out and wiped it on the man's pants. They had finally found the last of his dad's supporters, at least Adrian hoped so. He liked killing racist, horrible, pieces of shit, but it seemed to make Chris’ upset and emotional to be reminded of his dad. And Adrian was trying to get better at recognizing the difference between face exercises and tears.
———
The way the girl's nails scraped against his back made his skin crawl. They were long and sharp and painted vomit green. What a gross color, why would you paint your nails that color? He wanted to push her away, but didn’t want to make it weird. He was glad he didn’t have to take his mask off. Making his face do what it was supposed to was hard work. Focus, Adrian.
Next to him, Chris moaned as the girl's mouth made contact with his cock. Adrian’s rhythm stuttered as he watched the tiny expression changes on his friend’s face. His eyes relaxed, lips pulled back in a low hiss as the girl tongued the slit.
“Vig, what are you doing,” Chris’ low, rough voice cut through his reverie. “Keep fucking Aimee.”
Adrian looked back down at the girl, Aimee, who was now wearing an annoyed expression. Industriously, he started thrusting again, gratified to hear a gasp from the girl under him.
———
“Fuck, baby,” Chris’ voice was husky in his ear. The air in the trailer was hot, the sheets slightly damp from their sweat and the small bottle lube. Adrian’s muscles felt languid and his cock was throbbing desperately.
Chris was three fingers deep in his ass, gently brushing Adrian’s prostate making him whine. Fuck, he wanted to get off so bad. Adrian gasped as Chris eased his fingers out and Adrian felt the blunt head of his dick bumping against his tender entrance. Adrian made a strangled sound as Chris slowly eased his cock inside him, big fingers wet from the lube, finding Adrian’s dick, making him whimper and writhe.
“That feels so good,” Adrian sighed in a high voice, as Chris filled him up. He could hear Chris’ breath hitch and his hand stutter on his dick.
“Yah?” He said breathlessly. He hadn’t moved, trembling slightly with the effort of remaining still.
“Yes,” Adrian gasped. He had meant it as a statement of fact, but Chris seemed to like the encouragement. “I like, I like how your cock feels. Start moving, please.”
He needed it. Now. Chris moaned loudly and started to thrust.
“So good,” Adrian kept up a steady stream of words in between gasps. “You’re so good.”
———
When he saw Chris’ face on the evening news, his heart stumbled. Oh no. When would he get to see him again? His best friend in all the world, and he was going to prison. Probably forever. Adrian rocked back and forth on his couch, trying not to cry. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
———
Adrian blinked awake at a faint sound coming from the outside. Sore from last night, he gingerly got out of bed, shoved his glasses on and rooted around on the floor for some clothes.
When he was properly attired, he stumbled outside, searching for Chris. Following the sounds of metal teeth on wood, he wandered around to the back of the trailer. Chris was there, muscles bulging as he sawed a piece of timber.
“Oh sorry dude,” Chris said, looking up. “Did I wake you up?”
“Yes,” Adrian yawned. “What are you doing?”
“Um,” Chris’ cheeks were rosy from exertion. “Well, you know how you said my trailer was too small and like loud and stuff? Well I thought I could like build you an addition back here. Just for you, you know? So if you wanna. You can have your own space?”
Adrian blinked.
“Dude. You totally don’t have to move in here or anything, this would just be for you if you need a break or whatever…” his voice stumbled off as Adrian walked forward and buried his head in Chris’ chest.
“Thank you,” he said simply. “Does this mean you love me too?”
“Yah, dude,” Chris whispered into the top of his head. “Yah, I love you too.”
Adrian smiled.
Is this what it’s like to be happy?
———