#vigmaker

Chris has liked guys before. Everyone has. He’s come to terms with it. But with Adrian it’s… different. It’s not just wanting sex, it’s not a fleeting spark of attraction. It’s in the way Adrian rushes to collect the dirty dishes off his table, and laughs at the wrong time, and his weird gangly body.

Chris is hooked. And he’s staring.

“—Peacemaker? Peacemaker?” Adrian glances around the diner before loudly whispering, “Chris?”

“Huh?” Chris responds blandly. Adrian gives a toothy grin like he told a joke,

“Are you alright? You look flushed,” Chris blinks,

“…yeah.” He fumbles out, Adrian leans closer, over the counter and into his personal space,

“What’re you thinking about?” He asks, big bug eyes boring into Chris’s, almost whispering like he’s asking a secret.

“Nothing. Nothing, girls,” Chris grumbles, “Chicks.” Adrian nods, like he’s taking in everything Chris has to offer, like he’s trying to wholly absorb his essence. Adrian opens his mouth to say something, a weird twinkle in his eye, but he’s cut off by the abrupt call of ‘Adrian!’ From the kitchen. He scurried away like a beetle.

“Fuck me…” Chris mumbles, rubbing his hands down his face. Any option is a better option than Adrian. Harcourt is stunning. The clerk at the gas station by his house keeps offering him ‘a good time for a low price’. Harcourt is right there! But there’s just something about Adrian that’s…

Screw that.

He knocks back the rest of his drink and slides out of the booth. He slams the door open so hard he’s sure he hears the glass crack and storms out to his car. Just need a cold shower, he thinks as he jams the key in the ignition, just need to go home, and—

“Fuck me!” He yells, slamming a hand on the dashboard. Eagly squawks and bats his wings. The car sputters, then nothing. He tries again, and again, and again, to no avail. He slumps in his seat, laying on the horn. The resounding honk rings throughout the practically empty parking lot, only broken by a gentle tapping at the window.

…what the hell is tapping at the window?

Chris bolts up, his head snapping to the window. Adrian. With that cheesy grin and those crooked glasses,

“Chris… ride… car…“ his words are garbled by the window between them. Chris rolls the window down,

“Dude, are you following me?” He asks, Adrian leans in the window,

“Your car?” Adrian responds, like that explains anything. Then, when he doesn’t get a reply, “Do you need a ride?”

Chris wants to say no. But, god, he wants to go home. And right now those two are mutually exclusive. Chris grumbles a yes and ashamedly slides out the car, Eagly hopping behind him, pecking at Adrian’s shoes.

Adrian’s car is hot and smells like cherry pie and disinfectant, there’s a chip in the windshield and there’s piles of tickets and bills spilling out of his glove compartment. He’s telling a story. Something about work or his brother or National Geographic— Chris stopped listening a long time ago. Adrian has this sparkle in his eye, like he’s in a fairytale (that’s definitely the gayest thing he’s ever thought) and his lips look so plush, and his arms strain against his work shirt.

“This is it, right?” Adrian asks, leaning forward to peer out the window at Chris’s house. Chris makes a mental note that he never told Adrian where he lives. “It’s weird to be here in person,”

He grabs Adrian so rough he nearly gives him whiplash, and kisses him like he’s angry. He is angry. Gut would kill him if he knew.

Adrian seems happy, though. This is basically the closest he’s ever been to Chris. He grins and pushes his glasses back up his nose, wiping the spit from his mouth.

“Can I come in?” He asks, pupils blown out,

“What?” Chris sputters, “No!” Adrian tilts his head like a confused puppy,

“Why not?” He asks. It’s probably a valid question, considering Chris can’t come up with a convincing reason why not. “You just—“

“It’s not like that!” He yells, pushing his door open and hurrying out to Eagly’s side to usher him out.

“Not like what?” Adrian asks, turning his head to look back at Chris, who doesn’t respond. “That’s just what friends do!” He yells as Chris hurriedly closes the door and rushes inside. “…Chris!”

a/n: my longer fics don’t usually do great on here so here’s peacemaker bs from my sick twisted mind…!