universe I love you

It had been a week since the incident. The incident Adrian refused to talk about.

Apart from a pounding migraine the following morning, the only lasting symptom was how strange Adrian had been acting.

Not that you had a chance to speak to him.

It was excuse after excuse. First he claimed to be too busy on missions to hang out. Then Eagly needed walking. Then he needed to leave because the desk lamp was making him nauseous. 

Avoiding you was starting to become more suspicious than simply admitting whatever had happened.

Chris hit his limit this morning, after Adrian nearly launched himself out of the car window to avoid talking to you. It was as obvious to him, as it was to the rest of the 11th Street Kids what had Adrian so flustered. 

Yet there he sat, with his over-sized noise-cancelling headphones, shoulders curled over his desk as though he could disappear into it.

Chris leant over his desk, knocking the headphones off Adrian’s head. “Dude, what the fuck is up with you this week.” 

He stared at Chris like he was speaking another language.

“I think I have a brain tumor,” he finally answers.

Chris sighs, fingers nursing his brow bone before he asks, “Is this still about the horny wet dream reenactment the other day?”

“N-no.”

“Let me tell you if it had been me and Emilia in your shoes it would’ve been–”

“Hey guys,” you interrupt. 

They stare like someone had just launched a grenade between them.

“How’s your wound doing? I’m still really sorry I cut you the other day,” you say.

You got a brief summary of the events from Emilia – something about a mind control drug, trying to come onto him and slashing his thigh. She didn’t share the full extent of what went down, much to Adrian’s relief, the fact he was in control was still a secret.

“Yeah, fine, fine – it’s healed.” he answers abruptly, refusing to look up at you.

“Oh, thank god! I was so worried,” you sigh, moving to your desk.

Chris shoots a stern look back at Adrian. “What is your problem?” he hisses.

“I don’t know.”

He really didn’t know.

Why couldn’t he look you in the eye anymore? He normally loved talking to you about what animals he’d seen on his way into work, but now he’d do anything to avoid uttering one word to you. 

It wasn’t like you knew anyway. You didn’t know that his perverted thoughts had run wild. Did you? 

Surely you must know something's changed? Can't you smell his sins clinging to him like the stench of rotting flesh?

His stare snagged on the blank computer screen, unblinking. Sweat gathered at his temples. Heat climbed his neck until his cheeks burned.

“Bro, is this your first boner?” Chris sighs.

“Wha–No! I’m, I’m just confused.”

“Confused about what? The hot girl you’ve been crushing on for months was all over you?”

“She wasn’t really all over me, that was the drug.”

“Yeah, but have you noticed she’s completely fine about it? She’s the one chasing after you, to see if you’re ok.”

“Okay, yeah but, but she doesn’t know it was me,” he sighs.

“But what? She’s hot, you like her, she seems to tolerate you. What's the issue?”

“I-I’m just confused, I've never felt this thing before.”

Chris scoffs, slumping back into his chair. “Jesus, this is your first boner.”

“That’s a lie! Because I always get hard from the vibrations of my gun.”

“Then, dude what the fuck is it? Because you are the only one here making this weird.”

“I just don’t get it – like sex is sex. It’s just sex, you get hard, it feels a little tingly then it's done. But that night, I thought my head was going to explode, I couldn’t breathe but I was also having a heart attack. Maybe the drug was contagious and I’m allergic. It was like a colony of ants crawling up my thigh.”

“Just talk to her,” he sighs before turning back to his desktop, fed up with Adrian’s antics. “Or watch some shit. Hell, we can go to the strip club later if you don’t have a meltdown about it.”

┈┈・ ✦ ・┈┈

He actually did his homework. 

Two hours of some low-budget porn, strippers, topless bars with a waitress who was way too flirty. Yet, still he felt nothing. 

It didn’t make sense.

No uncomfortable burning in his cheeks. No tightness in his chest. Why was it only you?

Tonight was Chris’ last attempt. After a week of dragging Adrian from bar to bar, only to watch him scare away any girl who asked so much as the time, he was at his wits end.

Truly a lost cause.

The neon sign flickers across the window. Two pints rest on their coasters; one drained to the dregs, the other slowly goes flat. Adrian and Chris sit on barstools, joined by two girls. Their names, Adrian had no idea; only that one smelt of sickly-sweet candied perfume.

Stale ale and tobacco, suffocating. Eyes straining under the dim lights. Middle-aged men crowded the pool table, shouting over one another until thinking became work.

“Dude again?” Chris says, as the two girls get up to leave their table. “I thought you said you wanted to come out and pick up chicks with me?”

“I do, I do! I think I do?” 

“You think?”

“This horny shit is all so confusing,” he whines.

“I know, little man, I know,” Chris says, knowingly patting Adrian on the back. “Have you considered maybe it’s not all women? Maybe it’s just her?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, this only happened when she was coming onto you.”

No, it couldn’t be. You were friends, nothing more. He'd listened to you rant about exes, about terrible dates. He didn’t care then, so why would it be any different now?

It wouldn't.

It couldn't.

┈┈・ ✦ ・┈┈

“We need to talk,” you snap, leaning over his desk.

He'd spent a whole week avoiding you. You'd tried to give him space, hoping he'd work through whatever was going on. That changed when he refused to take the only empty seat in the meeting room simply because it was next to you.

“We’re talking,” he answers, glasses slipping down his nose as he looks down.

“Don’t play stupid.” You catch his arm, steering him towards the break room. 

At least there he couldn’t bolt.

“What is up with you? You’re avoiding me,” you question. “Chris said you won’t leave your bedroom either”

“Nothing.”

“Adrian, I know you’re hiding something because you never speak in just one word.”

“I do. See, I’m saying more than one word right now.”

“Can you just talk to me seriously? Maybe I can help with whatever it is.”

A cough announces Chris’ presence, as he peaks through the doorway. “He’s questioning his entire existence –  thinks he’s dying because he now feels horny” 

“This? Still? Really? I thought you calmed down about this.”

Shoulders clenched, face burning, he was sure that if he looked at you for even a second, you'd know.He didn’t even want to be dealing with this anyway, let alone with you. 

He took the one window of opportunity he had. The second you both looked, he was gone, darting down the corridor.

He knows it lame, he knows it makes him seem like such a dork but he just can’t face you. Not when he doesn’t even understand this himself.

“Should we go after him?”

“Leave it,” you mutter.

┈┈・ ✦ ・┈┈

He didn’t have to wait, or even decide whether to avoid you any longer because there you were standing at his door, pizza in hand.

“Hey, so, sorry for coming around uninvited but Chris told me you were upset after today and this is my way of saying sorry,” you say, smiling shyly.

You hold out his favourite — a ham and pineapple pizza, with extra cheese and a stuffed crust.

He stares, not moving from his position.

“I can drop the pizza and leave, but don’t lie and say you’re not upset when you ran away from me today.”

“I’m not upset.”

“Adrian!”

He gives you a sheepish look before moving aside, letting you into his house.

You slip inside, the awkward silence following you through the doorway. Taking a seat on a bar stool, you wait for him to say something.

“So the other night,” you start.

“It was so weird you were all over me,” he bluntly answers, fumbling to open the pizza box.

“I know,” you sigh, hiding your embarrassed face in your palms. “Emilia said it was some weird effect Flag had added in to create confusion. I’m really sorry though.” You take a deep breath, “It’s so mortifying. I’m really sorry, that must have made you so uncomfortable.”

He was happy you didn’t know the real reason. He felt a little relieved even but still couldn’t hide the shame in his face whenever he looked at you.

“Yeah-h thanks,” he answers awkwardly.

He couldn’t hide how nervous he felt in your presence. Not because you made him uncomfortable but because he was feeling things. Things he’s never felt before for the first time. Sensations he didn’t even know existed. 

Sure, he’d had sex before but that was just it sex. No heart racing, no cloudy thoughts, no skin on fire. 

Chris wasn’t too far from the truth the other day. He’s joined him for threesomes before, even once or twice had a drunken one night stand but he’s never had a wet dream, or any dream of that nature before. 

Actually, he never even really thought about sex. I mean it was just sex. 

Then girls, yeah sure, he could see when they were pretty and he’d even tell his mom he had a girlfriend, but he never thought about them.

Then here you were, consuming his every thought like a virus surging through his body. 

“You ok?” you ask.

“No,” he answers between bites of pizza, fully zoned out.

“What! What can I do? Can I–”

“Wait! No, I'm ok.”

“You just said you’re not ok?” you sigh, cocking your eyebrows.

He walks past you, throwing himself face first into the settee cushions.

“I think — I think I’m dying,” he finally answers, his words muffled against the cushions.

“What!?” you cry.

“I thought my heart was going to explode that night, my face hurt, it was so hot. I couldn’t breathe in my suit.” 

“What? Why didn’t you say anything! Did you get drugged too?”

“No,”

"But my dick hurt so bad I wanted to cut it off.”

You stare, realising the weight of his confession, even if he didn’t fully realise it himself.

“Ah–,” you sigh, eyes wide. “I’m gonna get a beer. You want a beer?”

You excuse yourself to retrieve the four-pack from your bag. You thought he was mad at you, or even uncomfortable being around you after what happened. 

You didn’t expect this.

“Don’t stress. It's like, very normal,” you say, slipping back into your perch. 

You didn’t want to process that you were actually having this conversation with Adrian. Adrian who has saved your life on more than one occasion. Adrian who you called a close friend. That was now having an existential crisis because you came onto him.

“It is not normal for me! I thought my heart was going to explode.”

“Yeahhh, that’s normal, I promise.”

“What – So every time, you know, you – you think you’re dying?”

“Not exactly, but – Haven’t you had sex before?” you ask awkwardly. “What did you feel then?”

“Tired, like I’d just worked out.”

“Oh.” You try to mask the shock in your voice. “Well, um, what was different about the other night?” you ask.

You didn’t even have the mental capacity to unpack whether this was because you were so deep in a friend-zone, or because this was actually new to him. 

Worse, he’s disgusted by the thought of being turned on by you.

“I thought I was going to die,” he murmurs into his beer. “It was all normal, I felt nothing. It was all fine, then I just felt everything. Now, I don’t know what to do – I think I’m dying.”

He sits in quiet contemplation, picking at the beer label bottle. It’s like you can see the literal cogs turning in his head. 

“Ok, this is insane. I blame Chris for putting the idea in my head earlier but what if I help?”

“Help?”

You bite your lip, toying in your mind with how to word it. “Please don’t make me spell it out..” you whine, heat rising to your cheeks. “Fine. Like, if it’ll help, and you’ll stop thinking you're dying, we can recreate the other night to like figure this thing out.”

“What.“

He simply stared, brows pinched together, like he was still trying to catch up with what you'd said.

“I am willing to drug myself again if necessary.”

“I’m not drugging you!” he snaps, tensing in his seat.

“Fine. What if, what if, I just pretend?”

“Pretend?”

“Like, I’ll still do everything you say but not actually with the drug, so you know it’s less weird. Well, not really but..”

“Really? You’d do that?”

“This is purely professional, but yes.” 

“But what do I say?”

“I don’t know, whatever you want I guess.” 

“But how is this going to work?”

You let out a deep breath, gnawing at the edge of your lip.

“God, I didn’t really think this through — em, let’s say anything goes, but we’ll act like it didn’t happen after.”

“Ok.. I still don’t understand? So, do I talk to you, or just tell you to get me things?”

“Anything I guess?”

“Okay. So when do we..?”

“Maybe tonight? I feel like I have less time to back out if we do this now,”  you say, a  nervous laugh escaping.

He sways on his feet, lips parting as he makes his first request. “Please, get me a water.”

“Adrian! We haven’t started yet!”

“But you said, ‘now’.”

“Ok fine! I’ll set a timer on my phone. An hour from now, once I click, we start.”

You both stand still as you fumble your phone out of your pocket. Neither of you spoke. The silence hung between you like fog, dense enough to hide inside. You didn’t dare say anything. 

This was probably a mistake. 

No, it was definitely a mistake. Now he’s looking over at you with those sweet, hopeful eyes, you can’t just shut this down.

The timer buzzed softly between you.You glance up at him, with a shy nod of confirmation.

“Can I have water?”

You obediently make your way over to the sink. Then place down the fresh glass of water in front of him.

He takes a sip, thumb tracing the condensation on the glass while he toys with what to ask next.

“Sit,” he says.

Like a dog following its commands, you obey.

“Now stand,” he says as he laughs a little, while you hold back rolling your eyes.

“Tell me your favourite Pokémon.”

“Eevee,” you answer, wondering if he was taking this seriously.

“Get me a snack.”

From your bag you place a half-crumpled snickers bar on the table.

“This is so much fun,” he giggles to himself.

His laughter is cut short by the muffled sound of Barbie Girl from his pocket.

“Oh, can you wait five? Peacemakers calling.”

He thumbs at the singing device in his palms, the screen lighting up his face.

“Hey BFF–” Adrian chimes into the phone, before being abruptly cut off by a voice on the other line.

“What no, she’s over here.”

Adrian cradles the phone to his ear. Even muffled, Chris is impossible to miss as he shouts a firm, “hang up on me now.”

“No, it’s ok, we’re playing a game where she does anything I say,” he whispers.

“It’s like a game – she does whatever I ask for an hour,” he says nonchalantly.

 “What no – It’s to try and help me relax.”

There’s a pang of silence, before you can hear the distinct sound of Chris screaming down the line. The phone slips in Adrian’s hand as he recoils from the noise, accidentally slipping it on to speaker.

“Dude, if you don’t get your head out your ass right now,” Chris hisses through the phone, “I’m hanging up. Read the list I sent.”

He stares blankly at his phone screen as the messages from Chris roll in.

“Okay, so Peacemaker says kiss m— oh my god, I’m not saying that,” he giggles.

With your palms resting on your lap, you lean forwards until your lips meet.

“I didn’t say — okay um, I don’t think I can read the rest of these,” he responds, barely above a mutter, a growing blush on his cheeks. 

“What does ‘talk dirty to me’ mean? Is that like trash talk?” he said, like the words were foreign on his tongue.

“No, dirty talk is like…” You lean towards him. “I’ve always wanted to see how hot you look under that suit.” 

He freezes, hair rising up his neck.

“K-keep going.”

Your voice drops low. “I think it’s hot how flustered you're getting right now. I bet you’re picturing bending me over that—”

He clears his throat.

“Do you want me to keep going?” you whisper.

“No–no that’s okay. Um, what else does it say – it says kiss the nape? The nape? Is that a fruit?” he questions, frown puckering his brows. 

He gulps as you close the space between you, your lips softly brushing the base of the neck. Before they trail below his ear until your teeth are gently grazing his collarbone. He instinctively groans at the contact. 

The timer sounds, breaking the spell between you.

“You okay? How was that?” you say, pulling away from him.

“Y-yeah, great,” he choked out , unable to look away from you.

“Oh, yay! Do you think it helped? Like maybe it just helped unmuddle some things in your head?”

“Yeah, definitely,” he answers with a false positivity, nodding frantically.

Adrian was anything but unmuddled. He felt like he was drowning in confusion.

Now you were putting your shoes on to leave. He didn’t really want you to leave but how could he ask you to stay? 

┈┈・ ✦ ・┈┈

Part 3 coming very soon (its my faveeee part too) ♡

┈┈・ ✦ ・┈┈