Chapter Text
Adrian is on a mission, and that’s where he likes to be. Having a task at hand allows him to focus, gives him a purpose to dedicate himself to and that is how he survives. With a purpose he is useful and without one he is idle, and he is all too familiar with what his idle hands find to occupy themselves with. Things are very different now, in the best way possible—Adrian has friends! So many friends actually, more friends than he ever thought possible all together and individually. He likes that they all can hang out together, hanging out with friends and doing things is probably one of the most entertaining things Adrian has done in his entire life. Hanging out feels like menthol under his skin, vapours that open him up entirely and make him enjoy being alive. Friends give Adrian something to do, something to enjoy, something to watch and to study and to protect.
Adrian has had this urge inside of him, for a long time it felt like a blade just past his ribs. A thorn in his side but bigger, constantly open and pulsating just beneath his beating heart. Adrian thought for a while this was actually his heart out of place and it kind of was, in that it was where his heart must have fallen out according to his mother. He complained about things too much, apparently, even if they were just observations. When he told his mother that the pain was gone, really gone now after the first time the 11th Street Kids all hung out together, she didn’t say anything, but she nodded and she hugged him and cried into his chest. Adrian didn’t think anything he said was cry-worthy but his mother was very over-emotional and would probably cry anytime Adrian said anything about feelings. Feelings were something he tended to avoid as much as possible, because they were exceptionally messy, messier even than cleaning up after a good time and the blood that comes with it. Adrian thinks they have that in common, blood and feelings, messy by nature and prone to emerging in uncontrollable bursts from people. Feelings are even more difficult to dodge than a spray, and he’s also expected to deal with them instead of it being an indulgent choice.
However, this year is different. After becoming close with the 11th Street Kids, he now has multiple friends who still talk to him, who don’t ignore him after a month because he’s ‘too much’: in fact they actually tell him to his face when he is ‘too much’ now. This is a great improvement in Adrian’s opinion because it makes it a lot easier to understand when he’s in the clear and when he’s pissing someone off. Boundaries, Leota had called it, and she told him that not only is he allowed to expect his friends to communicate theirs, but he’s also allowed to have his own. The thought of having his own boundaries was very funny at first, as if there was anything he wanted to separate himself from his new friends, but in due time he had found some of his own—hugging on his terms, no soft touching, and he was even allowed to request that a song be skipped if it was too grating on his ears.
A long time ago, almost an entire lifetime ago, a court-mandated therapist had tried to teach him about boundaries too, but he’d never said Adrian could have his own, he never said it was part of making friends, just something Adrian had to do and Adrian hates being told what he has to do. Nowadays he does what he wants to do, and what he wants to do is get closer with his friends.
Adrian had never been a fan of the holidays, the décor is tacky and people are often way too emotionally charged and touchy-feely, but this year he finds himself halfway to excited as December rapidly approaches. His life has settled into a routine, where he has his friends and even coworkers who don’t make fun of him—and if they did, he’s probably allowed to kick their ass in return. Probably.
When it was just Adrian and Chris against the world, the holidays were especially meaningless. Chris wanted nothing to do with them and that suited Adrian just fine, but he did worry about the copious amount of alcohol Chris would consume to get him through the season. They’d only spent one Christmas together before Chris went away to prison, and Christmas without Chris was just ‘tmas’, not something worth celebrating at all. That first Christmas together, Chris had absolutely refused any gifts (‘I don’t want to have to buy something for a guy who won’t even tell me his first name!’) and Adrian had made do by showing his care in other ways: cleaning the house, outfitting Eagly with a new perch, filling Chris’ fridge with actual food. Small things that might have meant the world to Chris, but he never would say it aloud.
This year was Adrian’s year, and he fully intended to pull out all the stops and impress his new friends and colleagues with his incredible attention to detail. Gift giving is the ultimate test of a relationship, and Adrian has witnessed enough fights over the holidays to know just how important it is to choose something meaningful. Since Leota convinced him to donate his hoard of blood money to the founding of Checkmate, Adrian’s attitude towards said money has shifted considerably. While he’s not interested in using it for himself, he can see it’s usefulness in terms of helping others. And while he’s not especially keen on donating it all to charities that are likely being embezzled, he does appreciate that he can use the money to support the people he cares about. But a gaudy gift is not a meaningful one. Even if Chris might be over the moon about receiving a brand-new car (truck? Would Chris prefer a truck?) it wouldn’t mean anything to him because it doesn’t say anything about how much attention Adrian has paid to him. That’s the point of a gift, to show that you care, and Adrian cares an awful lot about his new circle of friends and intends to make it very clear. He is going to be the best gift-giver since Santa Claus, definitely better than Emilia, even if it won’t win him back it should wound him. Doesn’t he deserve to have a happy holiday after all he has put Adrian through?
Part of choosing the best gift is conducting extensive reconnaissance. While Adrian has managed to make his list for almost everyone, there’s one name that has yet to be crossed off: Sasha Bordeaux. Adrian knows next to nothing about this new team member. She just showed up one day, and Adrian went along with it because John seemed to know her quite well, judging by how often they spoke together. One time, in the break room while they both sipped at coffee, Adrian watched from his desk as Sasha placed her hand on John’s and he didn’t recoil in the slightest. Adrian’s not entirely sure what that meant but it looked very friendly, and so if Adrian is going to be thorough in his investigation he knows where his first stop is.
‘Hello?’ John answers the phone wearily, awoken from sleep by the trilling of I Knew You Were Trouble from his phone. Adrian had insisted, and John had never been good at saying no.
‘Hey buddy! Are you busy?’
John looked around his room, searching for a reason not to do whatever it was Adrian was going to ask of him. He wasn’t entirely opposed to spending time with Adrian; it just meant that he would be changing his plans for the evening and he’d had a whole lot of nothing lined up. ‘No, what’s up?’
‘I’m coming over, okay?’ Adrian says enthusiastically but then follows up almost immediately. ‘I mean, is it okay to come over?’
John sighs, appreciative of the effort Adrian has made to be less… Adrian. Usually he would say no, considering they will see each other at work tomorrow and the fact that spending time with Adrian is always an extended affair, but the thought of Adrian coming over to his house this late at night isn’t necessarily unappealing. John pulls himself out of bed, sliding his feet into his slippers. ‘Yeah, okay.’
‘Awesome, see you soon!’ Adrian responds and hangs up.
John has very little time to tidy up before Adrian arrives. He’d anticipated at least 10 minutes given the distance between their homes, but it’s not even a minute between the end of their call and the ringing of his doorbell. John is dimly aware that Adrian was already at his house when he called, something that the John that finally gave his address to Adrian a month ago would be mortified to know. But the John of today finds it kind of endearing, even if he’s not entirely sure that Adrian would have gone home if he had said no to his self-invite.
‘Hey, buddy! Nice shirt!’ Adrian chirps when John opens the door. His frantic energy is something John isn’t sure he envies, but it can be invigorating in the right context—John doesn’t feel invigorated by it at 10 o’clock on a Wednesday. The invitation inside that John was about to offer dies on his lips as Adrian pushes by him, making a beeline for his couch. Whatever is on Adrian’s mind is clearly important to him, so John follows after him.
Adrian pats the couch cushion beside him, inviting John over to sit on his own sofa. He still does it, but the absurdity of the situation crosses his mind. When Adrian pulls out a notepad and pen from his backpack, John’s eyebrows raise but he says nothing. It’s when Adrian pulls out his phone and turns on voice recording that John finally says something: ‘Uh, Adrian?’
‘I need your help,’ Adrian says solemnly. His expression is almost entirely unreadable. John swallows, anxious about what he’s gotten himself involved with now.
‘Yeah?’ he manages to get out.
‘Tell me everything you know about Sasha Bordeaux.’ Adrian finishes his sentence by clicking his pen, ready to take notes on the gushing he expects John to immediately devolve into. When there is silence, he looks up and finds that John is doing his best impression of a tomato, slightly bruised and almost leaking.
‘What- what, what makes you think...?’ John in spluttering the words as if he can’t even believe he’s saying them. In what world would he be the one to come to with questions about Sasha, and even if he was, why is Adrian asking?
‘Haven’t you worked with her for years?’ Adrian asks, innocently. Yeah, he was totally in the wrong place if this was how John responded to the mention of her. A year ago, Adrian might have said that aloud, but he has learned that sometimes holding his tongue makes people say more. Especially John, who has a habit of folding under even light questioning. Like now.
‘Well, yeah,’ John says with a desperate exhale. He is the only one who really knows her, a thought that hadn’t really crossed his mind before but also won’t leave his head after learning. Sasha is a lot of things, most of them unknown. He isn’t sure he really knows her, not beyond what he knows about her, what he has picked up over the years and wonders if anybody else has ever bothered to gather. ‘But she was just, my boss?’
‘Oh,’ Adrian face falls. He feigns putting his materials away, waiting for the—
‘But why do you care about her all of a sudden?’ John winces as the words leave his lips, that is not at all what he wanted to say. If Adrian has some new interest in Sasha, it is probably in her best interest for John to at least get some information to pass along with his warning.
Adrian breaks into a smile; John is his favourite of his new friends because he is so easy to understand. John shows his emotions in a way that is perfectly legible to Adrian. He sets his notepad back on his lap. ‘Well, I’m getting holiday presents for everyone, and I know what to get for everybody except her. So I was hoping you would be able to help me with figuring that out, since you’re pretty observant and you’ve also known her the longest.’
‘Huh,’ John says, half a laugh but mostly surprised. ‘You’re getting everyone presents?’ He wonders what Adrian would get for him, if everyone also included him. It should, right?
‘Yeah, dude, I just said that,’ Adrian replies, irritated. John has a habit of repeating things back to him and sometimes it can be a real rub, especially when Adrian needs something. ‘So can you help me?’
‘Oh, yeah, I can try,’ John finally says, running his hand through his hair. He’s nervous, at least Adrian thinks so, but as they talk about Sasha he appears to relax a bit. Adrian had some prepared questions, but John ends up telling him most things without even being asked. He recounts stories peppered with laughter, and even if Adrian can’t quite follow along with the jokes he smiles and laughs along all the same. He gets what he came there for but doesn’t get up to leave since John is clearly enjoying talking about this mysterious woman that he claims to know little about. It’s cute, and it doesn’t seem like a threat because John is really quite vulnerable like this, chattering on about a coworker that he probably likes as more than a coworker.
Eventually, the conversation winds down, and Adrian sees his opportunity to escape. When he rises from the couch, John mirrors him and gets that odd look on his face. It’s the one when he’s biting his tongue, probably actually biting it to keep himself from saying whatever it is that he wants to say. Adrian has never understood this about John, the way he fights against himself at every turn, a dagger at his own throat whenever the opportunity arises. But he can guess what John wants to say, so he says it for him.
‘Hug?’ Adrian offers. He figures that John has earned it, for having him over this late and for opening up so extensively. He is offering it as a reward, but he does enjoy the feeling for himself too. John is very nice to hug, especially when he’s in his winter pyjamas with the long sleeves.
John closes the distance between them and wraps his long arms around Adrian. They started doing this not too long ago, after one memorable night when John got particularly drunk and held onto Adrian like a buoy keeping him afloat, very desperate but also shameless in his desire to be close. And while a more-sober Adrian might have dodged the embrace, the Adrian from that night had let it happen and found it wasn’t unpleasant after all. John held him so tightly it took him by surprise, and he nuzzled into his hair in a way Adrian wasn’t sure he had ever been held, not even by his own father.
It was nice, so they had kept doing it, because after that night John’s eyes would make the back of Adrian’s head itch. John’s eyes would find him more often than not, and the change felt like it meant something. So they found themselves like this regularly, specifically when they were alone, especially when John would request it. Adrian knows this was the right way to go about things because it had contributed to John eventually parting with his home address.
John’s embrace is warm because John is always warm, and it’s strong and unyielding because that’s how Adrian needs it to be. John’s chin finds Adrians scalp, and the hair of his beard entwines with Adrian’s hair, twisted together as closely as they are. It’s a pleasant feeling, not something Adrian is sure he desires but he certainly welcomes it. This is what Adrian imagines it feels like for a baby bird under its mother’s wings, or to be a deer being digested by an anaconda: held as tightly as possible. Impossible to escape.
‘You don’t have to get anything for me,’ John says softly, his voice muffled through the interwoven mess of their hairs. His breath tickles along the crown of Adrian’s head, in a way that makes him squirm. John holds him even closer in response.
‘Okay,’ Adrian says into his chest, and John finally releases him. They don’t meet each other’s eyes because neither of them is looking at the other, each lost in their own thoughts. Adrian bids John farewell, and on the drive home he turns this scene over in his mind, again and again, not quite sure if John really meant what he said. John is usually quite honest, either in his words or betrayed by his body, but Adrian’s not sure if those words mean what they say and John’s tells were obscured by their embrace. He tosses in bed thinking about it, finding himself more agitated as the night wears on, and when he eventually sleeps it is fitfully.