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Quackity huffed, slowly putting the bottle down beside himself. Tears stained his cheek, it wasn't the first time he’d been thinking about his exes late into the night.
Slimecicle had quietly stepped into the room, gazing down at his best friend. He was back against the minibar, multiple bottles of alcohol scattered over the carpet. It was silent, Quackity’s sniffles being heard across the hall.
“Quackity from Las Nevadas?” He asked, carefully walking closer. He blinked, worry in his gaze.
“Hey, buddy.” Quackity muttered, his words slurring. He couldn't look Slime in the eyes, wiping his cheeks.
“Quackity, I..” Slime frowned before softly lowering and kneeling beside him, picking up bottles. The winged man watched him, his curly brown hair flipping as he stacked the bottles. He crawled over Quackity’s legs, carefully picking up a couple more before meeting his gaze.
“Are you thinking about them again, Quackity?”
He looked up from the floor, Slimecicle always seeming to catch him off guard. He considered lying, telling him not to worry about it and ask him what he was doing here so late at night. He knew Slime was smarter than that, though. He was staring at him so fondly, so full of worry.
His heart sank.
“Yeah, yeah I was.” Quackity muttered quietly.
Slime remained on top of him, deciding for a moment before sliding off of his lap and gently pulling him up off of the floor. Quackity didn't mind Slimecicle’s touch, he had gotten used to it. Slime wrapped his arm around Quackity’s shoulders, watching not to let him fall. Quackity wobbled, his head spinning. He grabbed onto Slime’s dress shirt.
“Fuck, Slime!” He winced, his head pounding. Slime walked slowly, keeping his arm around the man as he wobbled beside him.
The slime always seemed to have something to say. Sometimes he’s telling Quackity the details of his newest discovery; whether it's the indomitable passing of time, or something ever so mundane such as the way rain trickles from the sky. Tonight he was silent, only shifting his gaze to stabilize the duck as they wordlessly entered the elevator up to the needle.
The doors from the elevator slid open. The pair stepped into Quackity’s house, Slimecicle still tugging on his friend's wrist. He spent his nights looking out above the country, tall windows surrounding the entire structure. The moon softly illuminated the bedroom, lighting the way to his table and allowing Slime to quickly turn on the lamp.
Quackity strayed behind him, tumbling onto his bed. He watched Slimecicle as he navigated the bedroom as if it was his own, eyes scanning through the dim light.
Slimecicle sensed Quackity’s eyes on him. He glanced back at his friend, shamefully waiting for him on the foot of the bed.
“Now you can rest, Quackity from Las Nevadas.” Slime chirped, grinning from over his shoulder.
Quackity hummed, pale red blooming across his face. “Thanks.”
The slime thought for a moment, his eyes lighting up once again. “Silly me, I almost forgot your tie! No businessman can rest while still in uniform.”
Quackity snorted, playing along with the man and slowly standing up. Slime stepped closer, sealing the proximity between them. He carefully grabbed his tie, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to loosen the ribbon. He gazed into Slimecicle’s green eyes as he untied it, his heart skipping a beat.
Quackity loved everything about him, he thought. The way his hair laid on his face, his pretty eyes, the way he’d occasionally push his glasses up farther onto his nose.
Quackity placed his hands gently on Slimecicle’s waist as he began sliding the red fabric off his collar. Quackity thought about when he and Slime first met, the way he would tie his bowtie for him in the mornings and watch as he’d be given a goofy grin.
Slimecicle paused, eyes fluttering as he adjusted to the placement of Quackity’s hands, his friend’s touch something rare and unusual.
He slowly removed the tie, his eyes trailing up to meet the shorter’s. Slimecicle’s touch was always careful, something gentle and sickeningly human. He felt cared for- a feeling still foreign.
Quackity continued holding him, tracing circles down the slime’s side. In return Slimecicle wrapped his arms over Quackity’s neck, unsure of what would happen next but accepting nonetheless.
Quackity stared into Slimecicle’s eyes. He seemed to respond to every graze of his scarred fingertips, watchful and articulant. The man knew he was a bad person- he had to. After everything he’d done, after every lie he had told the goopy man still seemed to stay by his side, loyalty unwavering. Studying him closely with nothing but admiration and worship in his heart.
His love for the man wasn't motivated by power or lust, but by something tender and simple and slow. Something Quackity hadn't known.
In a drunken haze, Quackity felt the corners of his mouth turn.
He began. “I love you. Always have… y’know?” He grinned, his words slow from the alcohol.
He rubbed Slimecicle’s side, devoted eye contact not breaking for a second. In the moment he wanted nothing more than to hold him closer, kiss him, take care of him. Admire and adore every part of him just as Slime had done for so long.
Slimecicle’s voice was nothing but a whisper. “I know, Quackity from Las Nevadas.”
He didn't smile, he knew he didn't need to.
Slime had kissed him before, silently relished and brushed off by his friend and mentor. This time Quackity leaned closer, their soft lips meeting. Slime’s warm breath tickled his cheek as he was pulled closer, Quackity wrapping his arms around his waist. Warm tears welled in his eye, overwhelmed.
Quackity cried, not taking a second to breathe. He placed kisses all along his nose and cheeks, down his neck and behind his ear. “I love you, I love you so much.” He confessed between sobs.
Slimecicle left his hand on Quackity’s cheek, happily accepting his kisses. He gazed at the shorter, brown hair failing to cover his expression. Maybe he felt like crying too.
The night fell darker around them, the yellow light of Quackity’s lamp dimly lighting the room.
Maybe Quackity would regret this tomorrow, vulnerability something he had long sworn to leave in his past. That night was blissfully long, love confessions quietly whispered in the other’s ears until morning.