Work Text:
Times like now are often when Adrian thinks back on his time with you. When the early morning air is chill, and few people are even awake, while his hands are still freshly bruised and blood is still splattered on his suit, you’re on his mind. You’re far off now, working some decent job, probably.
You and Adrian had been childhood best friends. The two of you had been thick as thieves, never once parting each other’s sides. He’d helped you through your troubles as he did yours. Most of your nights were spent together, even if neither of you was actually doing anything. Usually, he had a game console in hand while you did whatever activity fit you best during your growing interests. It was a tumultuous time of aging and learning, but you were in it together.
He could count on you for everything and anything. You were the only one who knew his second identity, not that he had meant to let you in on it. When the two of you were in your late teens, it was hard not to make the connection between the town’s vigilante and the boy crawling through your window with bruises and broken noses–or maybe it was the mask still in his back pocket that gave it away.
There was never really anything that had kept you apart–not even when you started experimenting with dating. If anyone had a problem with you and Adrian’s relationship, you didn’t give it a second thought before breaking it off. You and Adrian weren’t romantic, not that he thought, at least. You were just best friends who sometimes would make out. When his heart broke in two when you went off to college and left him in that stupid town, it wasn’t because he was in love with you; it was because you were his best friend.
You would come back for the holidays while you were in college. Those were the best and worst times of his life. He loved it when you would come back so he could shower you in the attention that he needed to make up for, but then you would just leave again. Still, he would make the most out of it. Normally, the two of you would have great times and enjoy the close proximity, but one Christmas in your second year, you came home with a puffy face and red-rimmed eyes.
Adrian knew you would date while you were gone; it was to be expected. It didn’t change the sour churning in his stomach when it was brought up, and that time when you came home broken-hearted from a breakup almost sent him into a seething rage. The only thing that kept him in check was the fact that he had to be there for you. He didn’t really know how to comfort you, and he fumbled his words, but you didn’t care. You just wanted your best friend. For something that was a tough time for you, it ended up being one of his most cherished memories.
You had been looking down at him with a tear-streaked face while in the basement of his house, eyes all watery and lip trembling. It was the first time he realized just how pretty you were. He was sitting on the floor while stroking your legs that sat on his couch as you told him all of the awful things your ex-partner had done and said. Their information was tucked in the back of his mind, waiting for him to find them and hurt them as they’d hurt you. His mind had been solely focused on you, though.
“I miss when things were easier,” you had said, hushed. “Like when we could just kiss after school and I didn’t have to worry about all this stuff.”
“I miss that too–I miss you. Like, a lot. More than a lot, actually,” Adrian started to ramble, and your eyes started getting misty again, diamond drops lining your lashes. The sight made him feel fluttery.
Your lips had met his so suddenly he almost tumbled back, but you fisted his shirt to keep him right there with you. He tried to work it out in his head whether this was right or wrong. You were sad and vulnerable, but he couldn’t keep his lips from yours. He stood on his knees and eased you back onto the couch with his torso, letting his hands roam your body like they used to.
A content sigh came from you after he parted long enough to breathe. You seemed more at ease than you had since you first got back, so it kept him going. A stray tear had fallen, gripping his attention, and his tongue swiped it up from your cheek, making a giggle escape you. The salt latches to his taste buds, savoring the little part of you. You laugh, “You’re so weird.”
“Yeah,” he breathed, words beyond him for one of the few times in his life. That was something he always loved about you. He’d been called weird all his life, but usually with a grimace or a cutting tone. When you said it with a smile or a laugh, it felt different, like you enjoyed that part of him.
Something crossed your face, and you started tugging at his shirt. He was used to this, knowing you always liked to feel his warm skin on yours. He took it off for you so that your hands could start roaming, but instead, you were taking off your own shirt. You’d only done that a couple of times with him and only ever let him touch your breasts once. This felt different, as if there was more intention to it. You brought his mouth to yours again and grabbed his hand to bring it to your bra, encouraging him to cup it.
“What’s happening? Not that I’m complaining–your body is nice, obviously, but what are you doing?” Adrian questioned. You huffed at him as if the question was annoying you.
“I want you,” you admitted. He went to open his mouth, so you quickly clarified before he could ask another question. “Sex. I want to have sex with you.”
Adrian was completely taken aback, and he was pretty sure he should be saying no or something, but his hand was still on your breast, and your lips were on his skin. He was also pretty sure that if he didn’t, he’d regret it for the rest of his life. So, he kissed you again quickly before shucking his jeans and the rest of his clothes off in a hurry. You’d managed to get down to your panties before he was back on you, leaning you down on the couch so he could hover over you.
He was impatient and fumbling around, sucking on a breast and trying to shove your panties out of the way to messily rub circles around your clit. You were watching him with a look he couldn’t identify as his glasses were sliding slowly down. You grabbed his hand to slow him down and lead him to the right spot. When he started rubbing your clit with his calloused fingers, it was unintentionally hard and rough, but it got a sweet moan out of you. He didn’t even try to get an orgasm out of you; he just made sure you were wet enough that he could coat his dick in your slick before he thrust into you.
You had let out a surprised cry when he didn’t ease in, but just pushed in full hilt. A whimper escaped him, and he started desperately thrusting and grinding while watching fresh tears start to leak out of your eyes, shiny like gems. He leaned down to lick them up again before kissing you, but his uneven panting caused him to break off. His nose ended up in the crook of your neck, and he buried himself in your hair. He raised your hips with one arm so that he could quickly thrust into you like a toy. Your noises stirred him on, and he could feel your hands between the two of you working at your clit. His abdomen tightened, and pleasure squeezed at him before he released into you, but he kept thrusting until you clench around him with a cry as he continued to idly grind through the overstimulation. A content sigh came from you once again, and a small smile lingered on your lips as he pulled back to look at you again.
“That’s just what I needed,” you hummed. He grinned down at you and placed a peck on your lips.
His fists are working hard as he imagines that last smile you gave him, with sweat beading at your temple and across your body. He thinks about his cum leaking out of you and how you had felt around his cock, imagining it's your pussy and not his hand right now. Tears start to leak out of his own eyes, thinking about how bad he wants you here, as a whimper leaves him and cums spurts on his stomach.
He cleans himself up just like he cleaned you up that day, but this time with an empty feeling hollow in his chest.