Work Text:
"Q."
"...Hmh?"
"...Quacks."
Quackity huffed a sigh, adjusting his grip on his fountain pen as he didn't shift his gaze.
"What, babe."
There was a snapping by his ear, and Quackity flinched from the sharpness of it, scowling at the fingers hovering in the air on his seeing side.
"What the fuck- The hell's your problem, man?!"
Schlatt's grinning face came into view, looking smug as he leaned on Quackity's desk with a large hand braced to the polished wood.
"You've been just staring at the paper not doing anything with it for like… Half an hour now. What's so interesting about it, sweet cheeks?"
Quackity looked down again, and with no small amount of embarrassment, realized he hadn't written a thing. It was a series of typed paragraphs with signature lines breaking up the text, but not a single line was marked.
Quackity sighed, and he felt his lungs burn, stretching out of the position his chest was forced into since he started his work.
"...It's just a lot of reading, Schlatt, I've been reading this shit all day and it's blurring together."
"Wouldn't the solution to that hypothetically be walking away for a little bit, maybe to go make sure your eyes haven't frozen in place?"
Schlatt grinned wider, then, his nose crinkling at the bridge and making the felted tip of it crease in his amusement. As he shifted to sit on the edge of the desk and cross his huge arms, Quackity rolled his eyes, partially to prove to himself his eyes still worked fine, and partially to stick it to his partner.
"Hypothetically, you can shove it up your ass, because I have too much shit to be doing today, I can't walk away now."
Schlatt made a considering sort of sound, bringing a hand up and checking a well-manicured cloven hoof-nail.
"Weeell, if it really is that much, you could always let me handle some of it-"
"Bite me."
Schlatt turned to look at Quackity, freezing in place, and Quackity internally winced. He… Didn't mean for it to sound that harsh.
"Only joking, only jokes. Cmon, I wouldn't actually, you know that."
Quackity put down the pen delicately, then popped his wrist, his lips tight.
"...I know babe. I know."
Schlatt chuckled, then, his smile returning easily as he stepped down from the desk and stood behind Quackity once again, his hands settling on Quackity's upper arms.
"I'm serious about one thing though, you haven't moved from this chair in hours, I mean- Come on, kit-kat,"
"I'm literally fine Schlatt, it's- It's not that big of a deal, I've done this for longer-"
"The swamp ass has gotta be unreal by this point, like this is real bona fide leather so it's gotta suck-"
Quackity burst out in a scandalized laugh, shaking Schlatt's hands off of his arms with a crooked grimace-turned-smile.
"Literally fuck off, it's not like that, it's not like that."
Schlatt's voice dipped low in amusement, a hand going right back to Q's arm.
"It's not like that, huh? Well, that means you're not too comfortable and can stand to take a break," Schlatt said in a no-nonsense tone of voice, reaching under Quackity's arms to pull up at his ribs, to which Quackity twisted away, barking a laugh.
"Oh my fucking god, quit it!! You fffucking asshole!"
"What, did I hit something? Did I- Oh, are you ticklish here?" Schlatt grinned impossibly wider as he dug his fingers in, and Quackity smacked at his arms, pushing at his huge curling horns to get him off.
"You know I am, dickhole, now quit!"
"China dollll," Schlatt pleaded obnoxiously, letting his hands draw away, and Quackity calmed down, adjusting his shirt with a leftover huff.
"What, fucking- What, Jay," he smiled back, breathless as he finally met eyes with Schlatt over his shoulder.
His lover's gaze was softer, then, amused in the sort of way he could never seem to take himself completely serious.
"...Come take a break. For me? Cmon."
Quackity sighed one last time, looking just a shred remorseful.
"...If this shit doesn't get done today I'm literally screwed," he murmured, shaking his head with the ghost of his smile still remaining, "like this is the same shit I put off last time. No avoiding it."
Schlatt didn't look happy with that answer, but they both knew Quackity wasn't caving anytime soon. He was the President here, and Schlatt knew good and well what kind of responsibility came with that.
"...A few more papers."
"Jay," Quackity intoned with an absolutely exasperated expression, and Schlatt turned him gently in the chair to look him in the face.
"That's a request, …not a demand," he murmured back, his gaze and voice firm, but still muted. Quackity looked him right back in the eye, but found no condescension there, just understanding.
After a moment, he found himself slowly nodding, feeling a knot loosen in his chest.
"...I'll get what absolutely needs to get done, done, are you fucking satisfied?"
Schlatt broke out in that stupid, stupid smug grin once again.
"Very."
Then he stood straight and yawned, stretching his spine until it made an ugly crunching noise as he walked toward the office door.
"I'm going down to the casino. Might get tipsy, blow some cash. You know how it is.
"Really? This far into your progress?" Quackity joked back with an arch to his eyebrow, and Schlatt sent a flat stare over his shoulder, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.
"No, because I'm not fucking stupid. I have a liver to take care of, or whatever the fuck."
"Atta boy," Quackity grinned back, going back to scribbling signatures. Before he knew it, as Schlatt let the heavy door shut behind him with a satisfying- and intentionally engineered- click, Quackity had already finished a page and a half.
Twenty minutes later, the setting sun was a balmy orange, a fat candied egg yolk sitting on top of pink and peach snow clouds gathered on the horizon. Q sighed deeply, sitting back and letting his pen roll across his desk, which shone back at him in a pretty reflective gold in the direct light.
All of the official papers had been signed, sealed with a thick red wax and his insignia he kept on a ring, and stacked in organized folders to be sent off-server to his potential clients. He got more done than he technically needed to, but he wanted to give Schlatt some alone time in his casino so he wouldn't be so bored later in the night.
Standing with a wince and a pop of his hip, he put the pen back in his desk drawer before pushing in his chair next, stepping over to the window to slowly and steadily shut the blinds.
Walking through the building to the built-in hotel to the office, he thought about how he got to this point in his life. He had a powerful nation, one that brought a lot of finances to the server and the local economy, and gifted him with assets from across the servers. The Dream SMP, which was once a meager little world with hardly any laws or limits, was seeing prosperity and unity in a way it hadn't before. And all of the power imaginable was there at his fingertips.
And he had his ex-husband, now boyfriend, at his side for it all.
Quackity rubbed a hand across the back of his neck as he hit the button that would take his elevator to the penthouse, dwelling on the thought. He and Schlatt were once so neck-and-neck to each other that Quackity was hell-bent on tearing down any and all control Schlatt had over him, but in the years that had passed since, and the realizations they both made during time apart, …he could scarcely believe how much change had happened in the meantime.
Quackity scoffed to himself. He wouldn't believe it if you had told him a year ago that he was now the head of a largely successful business with Schlatt present, but not in charge. But that was the nature of things, sometimes, wasn't it? People change, and so do you. Even when you least expect it. Especially when you least expect it.
They of course had to make their sacrifices, and they didn't always abide by their agreement. But with the way they knew each other so well, sometimes it felt like it was all worth it.
He approached the door to the penthouse and pulled out a shining silver key, only tk find the door already unlocked. Alarm panged deep in his gut for a moment, but he steeled himself with a breath, putting a hand on the knife holstered to his thigh, and pushed open the door.
Just beyond the threshhold, seated at one of the two low-slung futons facing each other across a crystal coffee table, sat his boyfriend, legs crossed as he nursed on a clear glass of something, reading a magazine.
"So," Quackity began, startling Schlatt enough to jolt and choke on his drink, sending splatters flying onto the crystal, "you still don't know how to fucking lock a door behind you."
Schlatt coughed severely for a few moments into his fist, and Quackity internally winced. That sounded painful.
"Is it such a-" coughing. "Crime? It's not like-" more coughing. "-anybody was gonna come in with me here."
Yet another cough.
"Nobody would know you're in here, dipshit, they'd just come waltzing in drunk thinking it was the needle, and I'd know, it's happened before."
Quackity shut and locked the door behind him, then made his way past the foyer to approach the table. Taking out a handkerchief, he passed it to Schlatt as he picked up the glass of still-bubbling golden juice.
"Is this… The Töst stuff I bought last year?"
He raised it to his nose to sniff at, and Schlatt reached up for it, recrossing his legs.
"Yep. Found it in the back of the cabinet unopened, thought now would be a good time to try it."
"Is it good?" Quackity asked, eyebrows raised, and Schlatt nodded approvingly, humming past another sip before he set it down again.
"It's alright, it's bubbly. It's fun. Hits the spot."
Quackity hummed in some interest. He knew Schlatt had to be really putting some elbow grease into getting sober, if his own ache for a cigarette told him anything. Schlatt still visibly craved to be sipping on something, anything, even if it was sparkling water. But never regular water, no, never.
Quackity stepped past Schlatt's crooked leg and sat on the futon with him, turning his knees in toward him and laying his head on his shoulder.
"...I'm pretty proud of us."
He could feel the smile that that statement earned him as Schlatt turned ever so slightly.
"Is that so?"
"Yeah, I mean. Fuck, I wouldn't do this for anybody else, I mean. This is hard. But, …it should be worth it, right?"
Silently, Schlatt brought the hand slung across the futon to rest on his back, and Quackity let his eyes slide shut, sighing softly.
"...You didn't go to the casino after all?"
"Nahhh," Schlatt drawled, shrugging.
"Wasn't feeling like it. I'm tired, so sue me."
Quackity could tell, he really could. He sounded so… Flat, so unaffected. He didn't know what Schlatt got up to during the day, but it was clear something didn't quite go his way, but he was trying to hide it under disinterest and sipping on sparkling juice.
Prime, he was so proud of him. But he hated watching him sit in his own feelings like this. It didn't do his partner any good, but they also both knew that options otherwise were somewhat limited, in recovery.
Quackity stood momentarily, turning his body so his knees were tucked into the crevice of the futon, and he lay a hand down on Schlatt's chest, now facing him directly.
"...Now that I'm off work, what do you wanna do? You've got me all night."
And, just as he expected, Schlatt's eyes lit up just that little bit more. A part of him curled up into itself with glee, to see that joy in his eyes. Once upon a time, it meant that he did something right and that he had earned Schlatt's approval, but now, now that they were healing, it just told him that he was taking care of his own. And that was a greater reward than the other thing ever really was.
Schlatt began to really smile, then, laying a hand down on top of Quackity's with a shy but excited look that was dangerously infectious.
"...Dance with me?"
Quackity scoffed, but couldn't help his lips turning up at the corners.
"...Seriously? You can have anything, and you wanna dance."
"Yeah, why not? You gave me every option, here, you can't expect me to ask what I actually want," Schlatt grinned, and he stood, crossing the room to the record player on its table in the corner. Quackity sighed and sat back on the futon, crossing his ankles where they lay against each other.
Schlatt fiddled with the machine for a second before pulling a familiar-looking disc from its paper sleeve, setting it down with all-too-gentle hands. Nobody would expect him to have a gentle touch, and Quackity wasn't even sure Schlatt himself noticed how careful he could be when he wanted to be. But Quackity couldn't possibly ignore the difference in those hands. Those same hands had turned from making rough shoves and gripping with an iron fist into a gentle finger that would trace the edges of Quackity's face late at night, precise little motions as he overheard Schlatt tell him how beautiful he was, when Quackity pretended to be asleep.
Schlatt was making his way back to the futon, and Quackity levelled him with a hard stare. It didn't deter Schlatt even a little bit, and he slowly reached down to take his hands, already starting to shuffle back and forth on his feet with a sly look.
"Cmon, pumpkin, dance with me! You promised!"
"Didn't promise anything, don't- Don't make it sound like I promised you anything," Quackity grinned, but he allowed himself to get pulled up with a spitting scoff, trying and failing to keep the smile from his face, and failing.
Schlatt led them to an empty section of the room where the last of the dying sunlight spilled radiant orange shades across the carpet, shuffling back and forth as he slid a hand down to Quackity's waist, gently pulling him in closer to him. Quackity easily fell in place, settling a hand on Schlatt's broad chest once again as his other was lifted up and out to the side.
Rough, weathered palm against a larger, cable-strong one. By all means, they shouldn't have matched, but it suited the rest of what made up their relationship. A combination of people who worked past the mismatch to make it happen. And that made it perfect.
"Tall and tan and young and lovely,
The girl from Ipanema goes walking,
And when she passes, each one she passes,
Goes, aaaahh…"
And god, Quackity loved it when his lover sang. It wasn't gorgeous, it wasn't anything to earn money, but the way it rumbled out of his ribcage was enough to make Quackity's heart flutter in his chest like it did the very first time Schlatt looked at him with not just camaraderie, but something more intimate. More private.
They began to sway back and forth, Quackity allowing Schlatt to set the pace in which they gently swung from side to side, and Quackity held his gaze as Schlatt murmured soft words to him with the whisp of a smile.
"When she walks, she's like a samba,
That swings so cool and sways so gently
That when she passes each one, she passes, goes, …ahhh…"
At this angle, the light struck across Schlatt's face, casting a glow around one horn and reflecting off of the brown in his eyes. Quackity could hardly believe that a man this pretty would choose him, sing to him so gently, and after all they had been through, still see in him something that he tried and failed to keep buried inside of him. It was a weakness, he had long since decided after their divorce, but time proved him wrong yet again as the part of him he thought had long died was nursed back to life, however frail and heavily guarded. Protected, yet breathing again.
Quackity joined him, then, singing with almost a whisper of a voice.
"Oh, but he watches her so sadly
How can he tell her he loves her
Yes, he would give his heart gladly
But each day, when she walks to the sea
She looks straight ahead, not at him..."
Schlatt grinned wider, a sort of sadness etching the lines of his face, and Quackity knew that this sensation that filled his chest, it was mutual, after all. And the realization felt like a stone sinking in a river, floating to the bottom and settling into his waking awareness. Another stone to add to the pile of realizations between them.
Quackity's hand slid up onto Schlatt's shoulder, then slipped further up into his hair, feeling the part on the back of his neck that Quackity shaved to cleanliness not three nights ago.
"Tall, and tan, and young, and lovely
The girl from Ipanema goes walking
And when she passes, he smiles,
but she doesn't see..."
Schlatt turned to humming the tune as he stepped back, taking Quackity's hand in one of his as he guided him into a spin, clean and graceful. Quackity felt a smile break across his face, a laugh bubbling its way to the surface as his world turned around him. He could hear Schlatt return the laugh, something he once again found so much joy in to hear in his presence.
Then Schlatt stepped forward again, wrapping Quackity up in the arm that turned him with the other hand resting at his hip. Once again, he felt that smile as it pressed itself into his hair, and Quackity leaned into it, feeling the bone-deep comfort of having his lover wrapped around him.
Back to chest, they swayed gently, and Quackity let his head rest lower at Schlatt's collarbone, feeling the deep, reverberating hum of his voice rattle its way into his mind and his soul. As the sun slipped away behind the infinite horizon, Quackity felt no less warm than if the sun were at its height in this desert of his own making.
The song played until it fizzled to an end, and their swaying slowed to an unwilling pause. Quackity only opened his eyes- when had they closed?- when he felt Schlatt step away from him once more. Quackity pouted and let out a displeased little noise, to which Schlatt chuckled again and rested his hands on his back.
"Hold on, hold on a moment, let me fix the needle, gimme just a second, pumpkin."
Quackity watched as he hurried back over to the record player, and his gaze fell upon the glass of Töst sitting on the table in the center of the room. He moseyed over and picked up the glass, taking a slow sip from it as the album started back over again. Corcovado, Quiet Nights of Quiet Stars began to play, and Quackity turned to make his way to the in-home bar set into the wall. He pulled the bottle from its holster in the cabinet, one of the few bottles left since he emptied it of alcohol weeks before, and topped off the glass, filling another right after that.
Schlatt came to sit at the bar, resting a chin in his hand with a smile as he watched him work.
"You really came into yourself, you know? Grew yourself into something, I- I can see that. You're more… Refined. It's a good look on you."
Quackity could tell him that a lot of that refinement came from spending his nights alone with the shadows to keep him company, reminding him of his paranoia and making him face his loss of control again and again, …but he didn't. He didn't even want to. Instead, he came back around the bar again and set a glass down on the marble bar, settling himself in Schlatt's lap, holding his own glass aloft.
"It took work," he spoke honestly, a pinprick of a smile dimpling his unscarred cheek.
"And a lot of it."
"I can see that," Schlatt chuckled in a hearty gust, taking the glass from Quackity's hand and taking a slow sip from it, winking cheekily up at him.
"My partner, the hardest worker on this damn server. Look at what you've created, you've made a damn empire with your own two hands."
"I'm gonna take that as a compliment from you, considering you more or less did the same," Quackity intoned back, taking the glass back and raising a hand to wipe the spare moisture that came away in Schlatt's mustache with a ringed thumb.
"Could even say you brought me to realize that this was something I wanted."
"That something being…?" Schlatt teased, his smile growing wider, but Quackity knew he was joking.
Yet, Quackity himself was not.
"...That something being, knowing I wanted you, and I wanted us."
His voice was level, a cadence he trained himself to keep steady and unyielding, but now he knew he didn't have to keep it up if he didn't want to. It was a self-checking thing, and it helped keep his faith in himself aloft. He knew Schlatt knew this, but he didn't particularly mind when it made his lover look at him with a sort of surprised gentleness, like he was taken aback.
"...Well then," he spoke on a gravel, clearing his throat as he adjusted Quackity in his lap.
"Color me speechless, Juliet."
Quackity chuckled to himself, high in his throat as he draped an arm over Schlatt's shoulders to keep him steady.
"...Good. I like you better that way."
"Well hey, hey now, hey now," Schlatt teased back, arching a brow and smiling so all his teeth showed.
"Watch yourself, cause I ain't stopping anytime soon."
"You would if I asked," Quackity challenged, raising a brow right back in amusement. Schlatt eyed him a long second, humming unsurely.
"Mm, …maybe. If you'll dance with me again."
"Oh for the love of prime, Jay," Quackity groaned, but Schlatt took it in good jest, taking the glass once again and setting it aside.
"Just one more! Just one more, I love this song, you know I love this song,"
And with that, Schlatt rose once again, pulling Quackity close by the hips with eagerness. Quackity didn't resist this time, however, and as the tune really began to pick up, he let himself sway as he stepped forward, backing Schlatt up into the open space once again. Schlatt chewed at his lip with a sudden sort of excitement, and when Schlatt suddenly took him and pulled him into a dip, Quackity shrieked with unbridled giddiness, seizing onto Schlatt's shoulders with wide eyes.
And there, in the homely space of the empire of his making, he felt no power over anyone. He felt like he could let himself lead and be led like it didn't matter, for what felt like the first time in his life again and again. And it felt like flying.
All's well that ends well, he supposed.