Things with you tend to be blissfully uncomplicated.

Adrian isn’t left guessing — you understand him better than most people he’s ever come across. Patrol nights were always his favourite, because you let him tell his stupid jokes and hum along with him as you take out the bad guys together. On top of that, you’re happy to call his mom’s basement his ‘base of operations’ so he feels a little less lame about the whole thing.

Adrian isn’t used to getting his ass handed to him on patrol. You got it fairly bad too, he thinks in the back of his mind, but you also didn’t have a guy try to tickle your kidney with his knife, so Adrian is pretty sure he’s allowed to be a baby as you patch him up.

Except when that’s over, you’re sitting cross-legged next to him and sewing up the holes in his suit. Adrian’s even less used to people doing things for him just to be nice, and it makes him insanely tempted to start babbling about how perfect you are and how he’d probably skin anyone that tried to get between the two of you so—

Yeah. He’s running his mouth a bit, trying to keep the sappy declarations of how much you, his bestest friend in the whole wide world, really mean to him.

“I think that you and me are like… penguins. They mate for life.” He says dreamily, laid out on his stomach, chin propped up in his palms as he kicks his feet behind him. There’s a couple of seconds of silence after that, your hands faltering mid-stitch before his mouth snaps shut and his eyes widen.

“I mean — not, not like we’re mates or. Together or whatever. Just like, that we’re totally buddy-mated. Uh…” Adrian spends a good while floundering, trying to think of something to say as he grows increasingly flustered. “More like otters! Yeah! Like, they hold hands and stuff to stop each other from drifting away, right? In a totally friendly, best bud kind of way. I’d hold your hand. I mean, like, uh… if you needed it! In a ‘I’ve got your back, pal!’ sorta way, y’know?”