Archive of Our Own ^beta

One

Gut’s least favorite day of the week was always Tuesdays. It was when Mom and Dad went to marriage counseling, like a therapist quack could stop Dad from being gay and save their marriage. Gut didn’t know why they still tried — it was obvious it would never work. Hell, even Adrian had noticed the shift in their dynamic, and Adrian hardly picked up on anything.

Speaking of Adrian, Gut was supposed to be babysitting him while Mom and Dad were gone. He hated spending any amount of time around that kid. He was annoying, loud, picky, and always asked so many questions. It drove Gut crazy.

Luckily, Gut’s buddy Chris agreed to come over to help relieve him of the torture. They were holed up in Gut’s room, music heavy on the guitar and drums blaring from the speakers. Chris had brought his latest porno mag to share with Gut — he couldn’t have his own because Adrian liked to snoop through his shit. Mom had yelled at him when Adrian asked why ladies’ balloons on their chests look weird with their clothes off at dinner one evening.

There was a sharp knock at the door, making Gut jump, then groan as he realized who it was.

“Gut,” Adrian cried through the door, his voice barely audible over the music.

Chris turned the dial on the speakers down as Gut got up and threw open the door.

“What?” Gut grit.

“I’m hungry.”

“Okay? Go make a sandwich.” 

Adrian just stared up at him blankly, his green eyes artificially enlarged from his glasses. Gut didn’t know why his parents let him get those stupid glasses — they were way too big for his face. It was like they wanted Adrian to get bullied.

“But I want nuggets and we don’t have any.” Adrian batted his eyes, trying to manipulate Gut like he did to their parents. Of course they always gave in, because they liked to baby him. It pissed Gut off.

“Seriously?” Gut asked, already exasperated. “Just eat something else.”

“But–”

Gut cut him off. “ No.”

“I’m kind of hungry, too,” Chris piped up from behind him.

Gut turned around to face his friend—who was smiling sheepishly—with a raised brow. Stupid betrayer.

“Fine. Whatever. We can go to McDonald’s.”

“Yay!” Adrian skipped down the hall to get his shoes. 

At the same time, Gut paused his music and offered a hand to Chris to pull him up off the floor. Once Chris was upright, Gut punched Chris in the stomach. Not hard enough to really hurt, but enough to convey his annoyance with him.

“Ow, what the fuck? Maybe I also want some fucking nuggets, man.”

Adrian was already waiting by the front door once Gut and Chris made it downstairs, practically—no, literally—bouncing on his feet. When Gut opened the door, it was like setting a dog loose — Adrian sprinted outside to the back door of Gut’s car.

Gut and Chris climbed in after Gut unlocked it, but Adrian continued to stand outside even after opening his door.

“You getting in or what?” Gut asked, turning around in his seat. “You wanted the fucking nuggets.”

“I’m not supposed to be in the car without a booster seat,” Adrian argued.

“Jesus, it’s like a 10 minute drive. You’ll be fine.”

After some more hesitation, Adrian finally got in, Gut backing out of the driveway as soon as he heard the seat belt click. He knew Adrian would lecture him more if he started moving before his seat belt was buckled. And he really didn’t need Adrian to tattle on him.

They ordered at the drive-thru and ate in the car. Gut didn’t allow them to go in because Adrian would want to play in the PlayPlace before even eating and then only decide to eat when his food was cold and then would whine about his food being cold and Gut wanted to prevent as much whining as possible. This was not his first McDonald’s With Adrian rodeo.

Adrian ended up devouring his food and finishing first, loudly playing with the Hot Wheels car he got in the backseat as Gut and Chris finished up. Gut almost lost it when Adrian drove the car into his elbow that was resting on the center console. Adrian made tire screeching and explosion sound effects with his mouth, so Gut knew that little shit did it on purpose. Gut yanked the car from his hands and chucked it at Chris’s feet where Adrian couldn’t reach it. 

Of course Chris—ever the betrayer—picked it up off the floor and handed it back to Adrian. The kid just stared at him in awe like Chris had just handed him the world. Gut rolled his eyes.

“You ready to go home?” Gut asked. “Get in your seat.”

“But I’m having fun,” Adrian pouted. He was driving his car along Chris’s arm, who didn’t seem to mind being used as a race track.

“We could go to the park,” Chris suggested. “It’s nice out.”

“Yes! Park with Chris! Please, Gut?”

Adrian pulled out his big stupid eyes again, and okay, maybe he was kind of adorable. Sometimes. Most of the time he was Gut’s biggest pain in his ass.

“Sure,” Gut conceded.

At the park, Gut and Chris sat on a bench while Adrian played on the equipment. They were definitely too cool to be playing at the park, especially with Gut’s loser brother. 

“God, this sucks,” Gut complained. “I could be getting some pussy right now. Instead I’m stuck at this stupid park. Thanks, by the way.”

Chris snorted. “Dude, you’re not getting pussy on a Tuesday afternoon.” Adrian fell into the wood chips at the end of the slide and yelped, but got up, completely fine. “This isn’t so bad. The only time we do stuff outside is for football. Would be nice to have some music, though.”

“Having to be here with Adrian ruins it,” Gut countered. “He’s so fucking annoying and lame.”

“Dude, he’s 8.”

“Yeah, but he’s a fucking freak. It’s embarrassing.”

At that moment Adrian got halfway across the monkey bars and suddenly stopped, like he was scared to move a muscle. “What do I do?”

Gut motioned to his little brother with his hand. “See?” He then called out louder for Adrian to hear. “Just fucking let go.”

“I’m scared,” Adrian cried. “Chris?”

Gut groaned. “I wish he wasn’t my brother sometimes.”

“Fucking cool it, man,” Chris said, his voice hard and dangerous. Gut turned to see Chris practically staring daggers at him. “At least you have a brother.” Chris then got up and helped Adrian off the monkey bars, deciding to join in and play with him.

Right. Fuck.

Whatever.

Two

Gut threw back the rest of his bourbon, savoring the burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat. Yet another bust during his time at the bar. He’d been staying back home in Evergreen for about 2 weeks ever since his girlfriend broke up with him and terminated their lease up in Issaquah. He was hoping to score while he was out drinking to help mend his broken heart, but no such luck. 

After tossing some money on the counter, Gut pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly. Once his vision refocused and his wave of nausea subsided, Gut trudged outside to his car. He practically collapsed into the driver’s seat, taking a moment to gather his bearings. 

Deep down, Gut knew he shouldn’t be trying to drive home in the state he was in, but his need to get home and promptly pass out overrode any worry in his mind. Plus, he didn’t want to call home in the middle of the night and have Mom come pick him up. Again.

So he bit the bullet and drove himself home as carefully as possible. Thankfully, nowhere was too far away in Evergreen, and hardly anyone was out at that time. Gut gave himself a pat on the back for not fucking anything up on the way home.

Inside, all the lights were off, signaling everyone was in bed. Well, Mom was, anyway. He could faintly hear Adrian clicking away at his computer. 

Gut could go straight to bed and be done for the night, or he could go bully Adrian to make himself feel better. In the time it took him to hook his keys up and slip off his shoes, Gut decided he would rather fuck with Adrian. He needed a win lately.

Adrian’s bedroom door was still cracked open — it was basically an invitation for Gut to come in. So, Gut did, closing the door behind him. He didn’t want to wake Mom up, after all. Adrian pulled his headphones down to hang around his neck as he watched Gut flop onto his bed.

“Did you drive home drunk?” Adrian asked, narrowing his eyes at Gut. That little fuck always knew when Gut was doing something he shouldn’t, like he had a special sense for it or something.

Gut just ignored him, squinting to look at Adrian’s computer screen. He had minimized whatever program he had open, showing off his wallpaper of Keanu Reeves with The Matrix coding behind him.

“Do you need something?”

“Were you watching porn?” Gut asked with a smirk.

“What?” Adrian looked truly offended. “Why would I watch porn with my door still open?”

“I don’t know, man. You’re weird like that.”

“Um, I know watching porn where your family can see is bad.”

Gut shrugged. “Then what were you doing?” 

Adrian knit his brows together and huffed. “None of your business.”

“I wanna know.” Gut got up and stood behind Adrian’s chair. “C’monnn.”

“No!” Adrian tried to shoo away Gut’s hand as he reached for his mouse, so Gut put him in a quick headlock. Adrian growled as his brother took control of his mouse and opened his most recent app on his task bar.

It took several seconds of looking over Adrian’s screen to fully take in what he was seeing. 

Adrian was playing The Sims.

There were two adult characters. One was clearly Adrian himself.

The other character had the name Chris hovering above his head. 

They had several babies.

Gut absolutely lost it. He cackled in Adrian’s ear, making him flinch, then collapsed back onto Adrian’s bed, holding his stomach as he laughed his fucking heart out. He had known the kid had had some weird thing for Chris already, but never in a million years would he have thought Adrian was building a life for the two of them in The Sims. With fucking babies. This was the best day in Gut’s life. Ever.

“We’re just friends!” Gut thought he heard Adrian try to explain over the sound of his laughter. Gut wiped the tears from eyes and looked up, finding Adrian’s face pinched and beet red. “The babies are so I can be a mom.”

“Oh my God, you’re such a fucking loser,” Gut panted. Jesus, his stomach was hurting. But the pain was so, so worth it.

Adrian swatted at him, but Gut batted his hands away. “Fuck off!”

Gut took a deep breath to calm himself down, but still had a smile plastered on his face. “I always knew you’d turn out to be a faggot like Dad.”

The next thing Gut knew, there was a sharp pain in his nose, and his head had snapped up to the ceiling. After blinking once, twice, Gut lowered his head and wiped at his upper lip, finding blood on his fingers.

“Don’t talk about Dad that way!” Adrian yelled. His eyes were wide, wild. He looked mad. Both angry and manic.

Adrian had never gotten physical with Gut before, mostly because he knew Gut would easily win. A punch in the face was about the last response Gut expected.

“You call me a fucking loser? You’re going out drinking every night like a fucking alcoholic. And I know you haven’t gotten a date. Because you’re the fucking loser. Get the fuck out of my room.”

Gut sat there for a second in shock. He’d never seen Adrian this angry in his life. And he looked ready to punch Gut again until he actually left like he wanted. 

With a huff, Gut stood up and left the room, going to the bathroom to clean the blood off his face. He definitely left because he didn’t want to accidentally beat Adrian’s shit in. It definitely wasn’t because he was sure he was going to throw up everywhere if Adrian hit him again.

Three

One night while Gut was lounging on his couch watching the news, he saw a segment about a local hero in Evergreen named Peacemaker. He had stopped a heroin distributor in the town, burning down the base of operations which resulted in the fatalities of almost everyone inside. Gut scoffed. What good did burning the evidence and killing everyone do?

A news reporter had a brief interview with Peacemaker — scorch marks and blood were littered across his flamboyant costume. He wore an odd silver helmet that covered the upper half of his face, but Gut still got a pang of familiarity looking at him. Tuning out the man’s cocky voice, Gut went to fetch his clunky laptop to see who the hell this guy was. Surely his identity wasn’t too much of a secret when his entire face was out for the world to see.

Gut’s jaw dropped when he saw that Peacemaker was none other than his old friend Chris Smith. What the fuck was he doing going around shooting people like a dickhead? Last Gut had spoken to him, he was still in the military.

Gut perused his Wikipedia page, finding lots of controversy despite him only being active for about the past three years. It seemed that his style was to shoot first and ask questions later, which many people didn’t agree with. Including Gut. Chris was acting as judge, jury, and executioner for many crimes where the punishment would never be close to death. He had started to expand outside of Evergreen recently, probably because he was killing all the people committing crime in Evergreen. Gut was just glad he didn’t live near that mess anymore.

He exited the Wikipedia page with a sour taste in his mouth. Many of the other top links in his search results were to news articles describing his most recent ‘heroic’ acts. Two links were to Peacemaker’s Twitter, and his fan club’s Twitter. Uninterested in what Chris had to say, Gut decided to see who was a fan of this asshole.

The fan club Twitter consisted of a mix of links to news stories and pictures of him in action that looked like they were taken by his personal photographer. The most recent tweets were a link to the heroin story, and a picture of the warehouse on fire. The warehouse picture had the caption ‘Our hero Peacemaker keeping the streets of Evergreen clean! 💉🕊️’. Gut scrolled past two more tweets before he knew exactly who the moderator of the account was.

Gut: dude i found ur secret twitter page

Adrian: What’s Twitter?

Gut: r u serious

Gut: i know u know what twitter is

Adrian: I’m completely serious. What’s Twitter? Is that like a bird translator?

Gut rolled his eyes. It was always so easy to tell when Adrian was lying — he would come up with the most outlandish shit to cover his tracks. He went a little overboard on playing dumb sometimes.

Gut: ur such a dumbass

Adrian: 😿

Gut: of course u would be the one behind a peacemaker fan page

Adrian: Ok fine I know what Twitter is. How did you know it was me?

Gut: bc ur obsessed with chris and i know how u type

Adrian: Oh ok. I was worried I had somehow had identifying information on there.

Gut: nope i just have freak senses

Gut: do u rly think ur gonna get his attention with a twitter page

Adrian: I already have gotten his attention!

Gut: ur full of shit

Adrian: He messaged me to ask how I have pictures of all his fights. I’m very stealthy. 🥷

Was Adrian going around stalking Chris while he was out as Peacemaker? Was he stalking Chris other times? Sure, Adrian didn’t understand what was acceptable sometimes, but following Chris around everywhere seemed a bit extreme, even for him. Even if Chris had turned into an asshole, he didn’t deserve to be stalked.

Gut: thats fucking weird bro ur lucky he hasnt gotten a restraining order

Adrian: I like watching him kick ass. He’s my role model. ☮️🕊️

Gut: hes a shitty role model bro he murders people

Adrian: Only criminals! Aren’t you his friend?

Gut: i havent talked to him since like high school

Gut: just dont worship him hes not a good person

Adrian: Why do you care?

Why did Adrian always have to be so fucking stubborn? It would’ve saved Gut so much time and pain in his life. God forbid he try to protect his brother from idolizing a murderer. 

Gut: i dont need u becoming more crazy

Adrian: You don’t know anything. He’s keeping the peace.

Gut: ur fucking delusional

Gut: keep dreaming about having his babies

Adrian: Suck my cock.🖕

Gut slammed his laptop shut and set his phone face down on the lid, slumping in his seat. Well, he tried his best. Prying Adrian away from Chris would’ve been like dragging a pig from its food.

Four

Gut and Adrian were in Tacoma meeting their dad for his birthday, and Adrian could not have been more mopey. It was off-putting to see, since Adrian rarely ever outwardly presented as sad. When he was upset, he usually ignored it and kept it hidden as far as Gut was aware. So whatever was wrong with him must’ve really been getting to him.

The two of them were hanging out with their dad in his and his husband Rick’s apartment. Gut liked Rick. He was a small and soft-spoken man who Gut honestly thought looked like a fucking nerd, but was actually the biggest sports fan he’d ever met. They enjoyed talking about football the most, and Rick was excited for the new hockey team coming to Seattle soon. Ever since moving to Tacoma himself, Gut had visited Dad and Rick almost every weekend — it helped make up for living so far away after the divorce. 

Dad and Rick were attempting to make conversation with Adrian, who they got to see far less than Gut. Adrian wasn’t talking much—for the first time in his entire life—instead choosing to excessively cuddle their cat Cookie. Gut was trying his best to make up for Adrian’s lack of conversation and cover his moping, but he knew it was futile and extremely obvious. Gut was both sympathetic for Adrian and annoyed he was spending Dad’s whole birthday being a downer. 

Adrian’s mood didn’t improve much over dinner, which was made lovingly by Rick. Gut wasn’t sure how Adrian’s sadness wasn’t cured by Rick’s steaks because the meal was honestly amazing. The only time Adrian looked happier was when Dad opened his gift. It was a gaudy beaded bracelet in the pattern of the rainbow flag that Adrian claimed he made himself. It was dorky and lame and very Adrian — Dad looked like he was over the moon.

As they waited for the food in their stomachs to settle before they moved on to dessert, Gut and Adrian cleaned up the dishes in the kitchen. Adrian was in charge of washing while Gut dried and put the dishes away. Adrian still didn’t speak and it was almost driving Gut mad. Sure, he usually said whatever dumb shit popped into his brain at any given time, but him not talking at all made Gut nervous.

“So what’s your deal?” Gut asked as he was drying a dinner plate. Adrian just shrugged, rinsing off another plate and putting it in the dish drainer. “Oh, whatever. You never go this long without talking.”

“You’re just going to make fun of me,” Adrian said quietly. Gut frowned — he felt bad Adrian didn’t feel like he could talk to him. He’d been working on being a nicer brother, but was hurt Adrian didn’t trust him.

“I won’t. I swear.” Gut paused. “Okay, I can’t actually make that promise, but I’ll try. Just tell me.”

Adrian scraped at a pan, clenching his jaw, and honestly scraping the pan a little harsher than necessary. He grunted and paused his actions, glancing over at Gut before fixating his gaze back on the sink.

“I miss Chris.”

Be nice be nice be nice be nice be nice.

Gut bit his lip to keep his mouth closed. The only noise that escaped him was him blowing air through his nostrils that could be passed for a sigh. Well, to Adrian, at least.

The month before, Chris got arrested, and he finally got sent to prison a few days ago. It was some special prison in Louisiana for metahumans — Gut wasn’t aware of Chris having any abilities other than shooting guns and running around in a stupid costume, but apparently that was enough to qualify. 

Ever since Gut had discovered Adrian was the self-appointed head of the Peacemaker fan club, he had been loosely following Chris’s escapades. He was mostly curious to see if he would ever decide to stop being a piece of shit, but he managed to become worse, especially after he started teaming up with that psycho Vigilante. Gut had seen a rumor on Twitter that Vigilante shot someone in the back of the head for jaywalking once. If Chris really wanted to make peace, he should’ve helped to put that crazy fuck in prison, but getting himself arrested was a close second. Gut never understood how Adrian still liked him so much.

“I’m sorry, dude,” Gut offered instead of laying into him. “I know you look up to him.”

Adrian just nodded, moving on to scrubbing the pan with soap.

Gut tried to lighten the mood a little bit. “I mean, it’s not like it’ll be that much different for you. Might be a bit hard to keep your fan page going, I suppose.”

“You don’t get it,” Adrian snapped.

Jesus, Gut clearly overstepped, but he wasn’t sure how.

“Have you actually hung out with him?” he attempted to clarify.

Adrian didn’t say anything, so Gut assumed that was a no. Surely if Adrian ever met Chris in person again he would’ve shoved it in Gut’s face to brag.

Gut sighed — he didn’t want to help encourage his brother’s obsession, but he did want him to feel better. “Look, maybe you could write to him. I’m sure he’d appreciate hearing from someone he knows. Just, y’know, ease up on the fanboying.”

“I can’t,” Adrian countered.

Gut didn’t know if he meant the writing or the fanboying. “I’m pretty sure you can.”

“It’s complicated.” Adrian groaned, rinsing off the pan and handing it to Gut. “Well, it’s actually not, but I can’t tell you why.”

Gut pinched his brows together. “Um, okay, man. Either write to him or wait 30 years for him to get out of prison. You don’t have much of a choice.”

Maybe Chris being locked away in prison where Adrian couldn’t—or refused—to communicate with him would’ve actually been a good thing — he might’ve finally gotten over his obsession with the man.

“Thanks, Gut,” Adrian said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “That’s sarcasm, by the way.”

“What do you want me to say? I gave you a solution and you didn’t like it! It’s not even like you actually know him.”

“You’re wrong,” Adrian ground out.

What the hell did that mean? How did Adrian supposedly know Chris without ever spending time with him? Had he actually been fully stalking him the whole time? Gut assumed he only stalked Peacemaker — he did have a job so he couldn’t just follow Chris around all day. Right? Gut worried what Adrian had gotten himself into.

“Let’s just drop it,” Adrian suggested after Gut didn’t respond. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fine.”

It was so hard for Gut to stay as kind to Adrian as he wanted when his brother was as stubborn as a fucking mule.

Five

It was the Monday before Thanksgiving, and Gut and Adrian were out doing the grocery shopping. Gut’s wife Clare stayed home with their Mom — she was five months pregnant so she would get tired easily, and Mom wanted to keep her company.

Gut pushed the cart because he didn’t trust Adrian to not become distracted and run into people or a display. Instead, he was tasked with reading the list, which he somehow still managed to get distracted from. 

“What’s next on the list?” Gut asked Adrian, who was standing next to the cart. Adrian was completely engrossed by his phone, tapping away with his thumbs with a stupid smile on his face. “Adrian. Adrian. Adrian.” Gut finally got fed up and smacked Adrian on the arm to get his attention — he had the audacity to look offended. “Earth to Adrian? List?”

“Oh, yeah. Um.” Adrian pocketed his phone and read over the list, sticking his tongue out like he was concentrating really hard. “Butterscotch chips.”

“Who are you texting?”

“My boyfriend,” Adrian said as he pulled his phone back out.

Gut gave him an incredulous look. Adrian had never mentioned relationships — Gut wasn’t sure if he was even interested in them.

“...Your boyfriend.”

“Yep,” he chirped, still looking down at his phone.

“You have a boyfriend? Like a real one?”

Adrian looked up, pulling his brows together in confusion. “Um, yes. How would I be texting someone who isn’t real?”

“I dunno, man,” Gut shrugged. He snatched the list out of Adrian’s hands since he wasn’t doing his job anyway. “You could be lying and actually be texting Mom or something.”

“I’d never lie about texting Mom,” Adrian said with a very serious face.

There was a beat of silence as Gut read over the list. They needed to grab crackers.

“Do you have pictures of him?” Gut asked. He still wasn’t totally convinced.

“Yes.”

Adrian didn’t elaborate, so Gut started pushing the cart towards the aisle with the crackers. A woman and her boyfriend were managing to take up the entire width of the aisle, and Gut wanted to ram them with the cart.

“Are you going to show them to me?”

“Oh, you wanted to see them?” Adrian looked genuinely surprised. “Sorry, they’re a secret.”

Gut rolled his eyes. Finally the woman noticed she was in the way and moved. “Okay, so he’s definitely not real.”

“Yes he is!”

“Then why can’t you show me pictures of him?”

“He’s shy about it.”

“He’s probably embarrassed that his boyfriend is insane,” Gut muttered.

“He doesn’t care that I’m ‘insane’,” Adrian said, complete with air quotes. “He’s just weird about being public.”

Ah, that made sense. “So he’s in the closet.”

“I don’t know where he is right now, dude.”

Gut stopped dead in his tracks and turned to Adrian. God, he could be so dense sometimes it was almost comical. Actually, it was comical a lot of the time.

“Dude, like the gay closet,” Gut explained. Where had Adrian been the last decade? “Like, he doesn’t want people to know he’s gay.”

“Ohh,” Adrian said in realization, setting a finger on his chin. “He’s not in the gay closet. Is there a bi closet? If there is, then sure, he’d be in there.” He paused and looked over at Gut. “You know, like a metaphor.”

“Uh huh.” Gut knew what the metaphor meant since he literally just explained it to him. He started walking again and finally made it to the fucking crackers.

“He’ll be coming to dinner on Thursday!”

“Is he coming as your boyfriend?”

“What else would he be coming as? A squirrel?”

Gut actually laughed out loud that time, and Adrian just looked hopelessly confused. “Christ, I mean are you introducing him as your boyfriend and not just your friend?”

“Oh! Yes. Mom already knows we’re together.”

Why did Mom already know but Adrian hadn’t bothered to tell Gut he was seeing someone? Did Clare know too? He could’ve just sent Gut a text and– No, he just definitely didn’t know it was typically expected to mention it.

“Has she met him?”

“Lots of times. Just not since he’s been my boyfriend.”

Hmm, so Mom already knew him. Did Adrian really hang out with people that consistently? The only person he thought Adrian had mentioned in passing was a Joe. And he only knew that Joe had a gut like Gut and Adrian thought he was hilarious when he said that. He was gonna need more info.

“What’s he like?” Gut hoped Adrian wouldn’t word vomit all over him and make him regret asking.

“Oh, he’s handsome and really muscular and has a huge dick–” Yep, question regretted. “–and is brave and likes to pretend he’s macho when he’s a softie and gives good kisses and is perfect in literally every way.”

That was somehow the most vague and specific description at the same time, and it didn’t really narrow down anything at all. Gut didn’t even know what he was trying to accomplish — it wasn’t like he lived in Evergreen anymore to know who this guy was.

“And what’s his name?” Gut tried to surprise Adrian with the question, hoping to trick him into saying his name. That way Gut could get something. 

“I can’t tell you!” Damn, the one time he caught on. “Just wait until Thursday.”

“I sure can’t wait to meet Mr. Perfect,” Gut teased. 

+ One

The morning of Thanksgiving, Gut busied himself with assisting Clare and Mom as he waited for the time to pass. Adrian had left over an hour ago to spend time with his boyfriend before bringing him over for everyone to meet. Everyone was excited to meet him, but Gut felt antsy.

He honestly had no idea what to expect Adrian’s boyfriend to be like. He had to have been a bit crazy like Adrian to put up with him. Or maybe he was calm and collected to balance him out? Gut needed to pick his brain when they got back to see how he decided Adrian was the one. 

Gut loved his brother. He really did. Their relationship was the best it had ever been. However, Gut had to admit he found it hard to believe how someone was seriously attracted to him and eccentricities. He felt bad for thinking it, but it had taken him years to finally do more than just tolerate Adrian — it was mind blowing that someone else didn’t need all that time. But Adrian had seemed really happy when he spoke about his boyfriend a few days ago, so there must be someone for everyone.

When Gut heard the deadbolt in the front door turn, he rushed out of the kitchen like a bat out of hell, vibrating with excitement to meet Adrian’s boyfriend.

All of his excitement quickly turned to stone and smacked him in the face when the two of them walked in.

Behind Adrian was Chris Smith. AKA Peacemaker AKA Douchebag AKA Criminal AKA Murderer.

“Chris?” Gut choked out. Of all the images Gut had conjured of Adrian’s boyfriend in his head, none of them came close to resembling Chris Smith.

In the entryway, Adrian rid himself of his shoes and coat, took a bag from Chris’s hands, and disappeared into the house. Leaving Gut and his childhood friend alone together. His childhood friend who was dating his brother. His brother who had a lifelong obsession with the man standing in front of him.

“Hey, Gut,” Chris greeted, a touch of nervousness in his voice. “Long time no see.”

Gut just gaped at him. Before things got too awkward, Mom came and whisked Chris away to the kitchen, offering him a drink and asking how he’d been. 

Snapping himself out of it, Gut blinked, closed his mouth, and went to hunt down his brother. He found Adrian upstairs in the hallway coming from his room. Where he had taken Chris’s bag. Chris’s overnight bag. Because they were dating and were going to sleep in the same bed.

“Your boyfriend is Chris?” Gut asked, his voice a pitch higher than usual.

“Yeah, dude!” Adrian responded, practically beaming. “Isn’t it awesome?”

“I– I don’t even know what to say.”

“Uh, maybe congratulating me on my dream coming true.”

Gut gaped again. After a few seconds, Adrian noticed his demeanor, and the excitement on his face was replaced with concern. He probably thought he broke Gut. And Gut was sure he probably did. He didn’t know what to do. This couldn’t be happening.

“I need a drink,” Gut finally muttered. He turned from Adrian and left.

Nursing a beer at the table, Gut watched from the sidelines as the other four mingled in the kitchen. Just your usual small talk as Clare and Mom asked Chris questions and Chris asked some of his own. Maybe. Gut wasn’t really listening to the words they were saying. Their voices were like static in his brain.

A small movement caught Gut’s eye: Chris’s hand settling on Adrian’s waist. Gut almost choked on the sip he was talking and loudly set his beer bottle back on the table, getting the attention of Clare. She came to sit beside him, leaning in a way that blocked his view of the others. Gut’s gaze shifted to her warm brown eyes, calming him down instantly. A bit.

“What is this, Dorian?” Clare asked, moving again as Gut’s eyes flicked back to Chris for a moment.

“Nothing,” Gut mumbled.

“Dorian.” She gave him a hard look, clearly not wanting to put up with his drama. She was always good at keeping him grounded.

“It’s just freaking me out!” Gut whisper-yelled. The others were too entranced by what Chris was saying to hear him. “I mean, my childhood best friend and my little brother are dating. And my childhood best friend happens to be him.” Clare was more than familiar with Gut’s feelings on Chris. Peacemaker. They started dating just a few months before Chris got sent to prison.

“I understand it’s weird for you,” she said gently, placing her hand on Gut’s. “Can you at least pretend to be happy instead of spending the whole day pouting? It’s Thanksgiving. And if I remember correctly, he doesn’t have a family to celebrate with.”

Gut took the last sip of his beer and nodded. Clare was right. He just needed to chill out. For now, at least. Yes, the situation was fucked, but it wasn’t the time to get up in arms about it. He could do that tomorrow when the holiday was over. 

So, Gut decided he was just going to ignore Chris. It was going pretty well for a bit, since Chris never spoke to him, like he knew Gut didn’t want to interact with him. But the peace ended when Gut came out of the bathroom and Chris was right there, practically cornering him in the hallway. 

“You avoiding me, dude?” Chris asked, like it wasn’t obvious. “I thought you’d want to catch up.”

“I know enough about you already,” Gut bit. It was much harder to keep himself contained when actually talking to Chris.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” It sounded like a challenge.

Gut huffed. “It means I’ve read about all the ‘peace’ you’ve made over the years. You should still be in prison.”

“Yeah, I have made a lot of peace,” Chris argued, standing up straighter. “I saved the world twice in the past year, thank you very much. And I defeated the White Dragon — I couldn’t have done any of that from prison.”

Gut’s eyes widened in surprise. He had heard that Chris’s racist fucking father was dead, but he had no idea Chris was the one that killed him. But the feeling was fleeting — his face quickly hardened again. “That doesn’t make up for you being a fucking murderer for the past 15 years.”

Chris’s jaw clenched so hard Gut could see a vein appear on his forehead. Chris took in a deep breath, curled and uncurled his fingers a few times, then released the breath. “I know, man.” His voice was small. “I’m working on it. Really.”

As sincere as Chris sounded, Gut didn’t buy it. It was so unlike the man he last knew that it had to be an act. Gut looked at the beige wall behind Chris’s head.

“I don’t like that you’re fucking my brother.”

Chris laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Yeah. Crazy isn’t it?”

Gut actually almost fucking growled. Chris thought this was a joke?

“You’re too old for him.”

Chris had the audacity to look taken aback. “I don’t think it’s that big of a deal when you’re both over 30.”

“You met him when he was a kid!” Gut felt his voice raise, but he didn’t care. He straightened out his shoulders to make himself appear bigger, though he was still smaller than Chris.

“So?”

“It’s fucked up,” Gut hissed, feeling his fists start to tremble.

Chris’s nostrils flared and his bulging vein on his forehead reappeared. “What, are you fucking calling me a pedophile?” he yelled, gesturing his hands around wildly. “It’s not like I was waiting for him to turn 18! I didn’t even feel this way about him until a few months ago!”

When Gut and Chris were in the middle of an angry staring contest, Adrian appeared, shouldering himself next to his brother. He looked between the two of them.

“Is this good or bad yelling?” he asked cluelessly.

Chris broke eye contact to look at Adrian. Ha. “Your fuckass brother just accused me of being a kid diddler.”

Adrian’s face screwed up in confusion, glancing at Gut before turning his attention back to Chris. “What? I thought you only diddled adults. Consensually.”

“I do! But he doesn’t think so.”

Gut threw up his hands “Can we stop saying ‘diddle’?”

“No, fuck you,” Chris pointed at Gut’s chest. “You brought it up.”

“I’m so confused right now,” Adrian piped up. “Everyone used to be a kid.”

“Yeah, and you were 9 when he was 18,” Gut explained. “Ever heard of grooming?”

Chris scoffed and folded his arms over his chest. “Jesus, I didn’t fucking groom him.”

“Chris was mean to me until he came back from prison. I don’t think people are mean when they’re trying to groom someone.”

“What?” This was the first time Gut was hearing this. “When the hell was he mean to you?”

“Like, all the time.”

Gut looked from Adrian to Chris, then back to Adrian. They interacted often enough for Chris to be mean to him ‘all the time’? They interacted at all? Gut thought that Adrian only followed Chris around like a freak, only lurking in the shadows.

Then several things dawned on Gut in quick succession.

When Chris went to prison, Adrian was devastated.

Adrian couldn’t keep in contact with Chris, but never told Gut why.

Over the past decade, Adrian had gone from skinny and clumsy to fit and coordinated. He had shown Gut some knife tricks one day, effortlessly dancing the blade around his fingers.

“Oh my God,” Gut choked. “You’re Vi–”

Before he could go any further, Adrian slapped a hand over Gut’s mouth, rigidly gripping Gut’s shoulder with his other hand. “Vigilante? Who’s that? I don’t know a Vigilante.”

Gut and Chris just stared at him — Gut in surprise and Chris in disappointment.

“Dude,” Chris muttered.

Adrian lowered his hands, then suddenly burst out into eerie forced laughter. “That was funny, right? I think I hear Mom calling me.” He then ran down the hallway, leaving Gut and Chris alone once more.

“I didn’t know it was him until recently,” Chris insisted. “And I’m not a fucking pedo.”

“I can’t deal with this right now,” Gut groaned.

With that, Gut turned and left, heading straight for his old bedroom-turned guest room. He closed the door behind himself and flopped on the bed on his back. He was alone for all of 5 minutes before Clare quietly entered and sat on the edge of the bed, cupping Gut’s cheek.

“Why did you say that?” she asked softly.

Gut grabbed her hand and lowered it from his face. “Am I the only one worried that Adrian is being taken advantage of?”

“So you call his boyfriend a pedophile? Adrian is 32, honey.”

“Yes!” Gut waved his free hand around. “Adrian’s been obsessed with him for as long as I can remember! How do you know Chris isn’t just using him?”

“Don’t you think you should talk to them before jumping to conclusions?” She squeezed his hand. “Or at least before voicing them.”

“I guess, but– You know how I feel about Chris.”

“I know,” Clare sighed. Her impossibly dark eyes bored into his own. “But people change. He doesn’t sound like the man he was before prison. Just give him a chance. And no more wild accusations, please.”

Gut closed his eyes and nodded, bringing the back of Clare’s hand to his lips to press a kiss to the smooth skin.

After once again being calmed down by Clare, the rest of the day went by without incident. Chris sat across from him at dinner and gave him a death stare the whole time, but Gut simply pretended Chris wasn’t there. He didn’t speak much at all, embarrassed by his outburst earlier.

Gut silently observed Chris as he spoke, paying attention to his words and the way he moved. It was a stark difference compared to that first Peacemaker Gut had seen on the news all those years ago. That Chris was cocky and crude. This Chris was humble, patient, and considerate. And still a little crude. But nothing they weren’t used to — they weren’t prudes. 

As Gut laid in bed that night, listening to the soft breaths of his wife sleeping next to him, he concluded that Chris really had changed. His reaction was harsh and uncalled for — he wasn’t the same man Chris used to know, either. He needed to apologize.

Gut had planned on apologizing after breakfast, but neither Adrian nor Chris came down to eat with the rest of them. Gut hoped they weren’t staying upstairs so they could avoid him. He itched for the need to clear things up — he felt awful about the things he said the day before.

After no superhero (defined in very loose terms to account for Adrian) sightings even once the kitchen was cleaned up, Gut decided he needed to be the one to rip off the bandaid. Clearly Adrian and Chris didn’t feel comfortable interacting with the family, and Gut felt bad he had ruined their holiday.

Gut knocked on the door to Adrian’s bedroom, promptly shoving his hands in his pockets to stop himself from wringing his fingers together. After a few moments, Adrian answered the door looking like he just rolled out of bed. He was wearing a pair of boxers and a much-too-large shirt that clearly wasn’t his own. Chris was buried under the blankets on the bed behind him, only visible as a vaguely human-shaped lump.

“Can we talk?” Gut asked nervously. He cleared his throat and spoke up to make sure Chris could hear him, if he was awake. “The three of us.”

“Um,” Adrian started, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I don’t think–”

“Fuck off, man,” Chris grumbled from beneath the covers.

“I just want to apologize for yesterday,” Gut explained, taking a step into the room. He partially closed the door behind him, not wanting his apology broadcast for the whole house to hear.

Chris flung the covers off his face, exposing his bare arms and chest. Gut silently prayed it was only his shirt he was missing. “Shove it up your ass.”

“Chris,” Gut sighed, his hands restless, even in his pockets. “Look. I– I know it was fucked up of me to say what I did. I was just worried about Adrian after reading about what you’ve done online. I’ve been worried about Adrian looking up to you for years. So seeing you two together kind of freaked me out and I maybe overreacted. Okay– Definitely overreacted.”

Chris sat with himself for a moment as he turned Gut’s words over in his brain. The vein on his forehead didn’t appear, which Gut took as a good sign. “There’s more to me than what’s online,” he said softly with a frown, like it pained him. “Although I’m pretty sure I’ve never been accused of pedophilia, so that was kind of an insane thing to say. I know how you see me, and I wouldn’t trust me either, but I need you to know I’d never do anything to hurt Adrian.”

“Except that time you let me get tortured,” Adrian interjected bitterly. 

“It’s a work in progress!” Chris argued. “I definitely wouldn’t let that happen now.”

Gut just looked between the two of them: Adrian looking irritated and Chris doing his best impression of a kicked puppy. Um, okay. Superhero shit. That was a can of worms for a later day.

“So, um,” Gut said awkwardly, cutting through the silence. “I’m sorry for accusing you of terrible things and ruining everyone’s Thanksgiving. I’ll try to be less of an asshole.”

All eyes were on Chris as he took a moment to think, staring at his hands in his lap. He then looked up at Gut, a smile quirking at the corner of his mouth.

“I’ll accept your apology,” Chris decided. “ If you agree to go out with us tonight. And pay for our drinks.”

Gut breathed a sigh of relief. “Deal.”

“Sweet.” Chris held his hand up for Gut to shake on it, but quickly retracted it just as Gut reached out. “Wait! No, this hand is fine.”

As they shook hands, Adrian giggled. “His other hand was down my pants,” he announced.

Gut just cringed. “Thanks, Adrian. I really needed to know that.” He then promptly turned and left, no longer desiring to carry on the conversation.

“You’re welcome!” Adrian called after him.

“That was sarcasm, dude,” Chris muttered.

“Oh.”

Later that evening, Gut drove the three of them to the bar, taking the responsibility of designated driver so the other two could drink without worry. As soon as they found a table to lounge at, Adrian excused himself to get their drinks. 

While Adrian ordered, Chris’s eyes lingered on him, the hint of a smile playing at his lips. Adrian turned around and leaned against the counter as the bartender made their drinks, noticing Chris’s staring. He grinned and waved, and Chris waved back before turning to Gut. Gut couldn’t help but think the interaction was cute. 

“You really care about him,” Gut blurted dumbly.

“Of course I do, man — that’s why I’m dating him.” Chris ran a hand through his hair. “I haven’t been in a relationship since, fuck, my early 20s?”

“What is it about him that made you want to date again?” Gut asked. He never did pick Adrian’s boyfriend’s brain like he wanted the day before.

“Well, I’ve been doing some reflecting–” His throat caught on the word. “–since prison, and I realized Adrian was the only one who didn’t think I was a huge piece of shit before. Which, he definitely should have, but he’s kind of fucked up, too. Sorry. He was the only person who I think was actually happy that I got out of prison. Other than Eagly, but he’s, y’know, an eagle.”

“He was really upset after you got sent to prison,” Gut added with a smile. “Although I thought it was because he couldn’t update his little Twitter page anymore. I told him he should’ve written to you, but he refused. I guess he was really concerned with his secret identity, looking back on it.

Chris chuckled. “Oh, yeah. He always refused to take off his mask around me. I had no clue it was him, but it makes sense when I compare them now. We really got closer during the Butterfly shit. Him and our other friends on the team made me realize how much of an asshole I was. I used to think he was insanely annoying, but now him being neurotic is, I dunno, endearing. I wouldn’t have him any other way. I’m not perfect, but I can really tell that me being nicer makes him happy. Obviously. I want to be better for him — he doesn’t deserve the old me.”

“That’s really sweet, actually.”

“Is it? I’m still getting used to talking about emotions and shit. No one around to yell at me for showing them anymore.”

Just then Adrian came back with the drinks, carefully setting them on the table. A beer for Gut, whiskey for Chris, and a blue monstrosity with colored candy and Swedish Fish that Gut thought was maybe supposed to resemble a fishbowl for himself.

“What’re you guys talking about?” Adrian asked, slurping his drink through his straw.

Chris pulled Adrian against him with an arm around his back and pressed a kiss to his temple.

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yep. Just how much I care about you.”

Adrian grinned, guided Chris’s lips to his own, then turned to Gut. “Are you cool?” he asked tentatively.

Gut nodded. The shock value had worn off, and now he was nothing but happy for the two of them. 

The night was spent with Adrian and Chris blabbering about their escapades as Vigilante and Peacemaker. They both talked animatedly, perfectly bouncing off of each other, becoming more and more touchy as more drinks were downed. It made Gut realize his brother was way crazier than he had ever suspected, but he decided tonight wasn’t the night to dwell on it. 

Chris was in the middle of recounting their fight with a gorilla when Adrian interrupted him. “Chris, we have to go dance,” he begged, a few notes into a metal song.

Gut watched as Chris let Adrian drag him to an open area and begin dancing. Adrian moved fluidly to the beat of the music, while Chris pretended to sing into a microphone. Neither of them took their eyes off of each other for a single second, even as they hopped around. Once the song ended, Adrian threw his arms around Chris's neck and pulled him down for a kiss that ended with Chris’s hands in his hair.

It was then, as they were tangled up with each other, that Gut was absolutely sure the obsession went both ways.