Chapter Text
Oliver Pruitt stood hesitantly at the doorway of Mr. Q's room, looking frantic but determined. At first Mr.Q ignored him. “He must be looking for something,” he thought. But as soon as he saw those eyes. That stare that made his body shiver more than any amount of cold could ever make him do.. he knew this wasn’t the case. He couldn’t help but feel his body tense up as he approached the older man.
"Quartz, I've said a lot about the future. How to pave it, how to make it a brighter place for all of us. I did not, however, anticipate anything when it comes to being a person. A person that is being perceived by the world, a human being that is being cared for. A person with... a family."
Mr. Q looked up at his superior with confusion “and why are you telling me this?” he took a step back. “I don’t know if I like where you’re goin’ with this, Pru”.
Oliver gave a hardy laugh “oh?”
"I just don't know how this relates to me... yet. Is it about Mars... or Saira?"
“Don’t act oblivious, Quartz.. you know exactly what I’m suggesting.” A cheeky grin made its way onto Oliver’s face as he said this. Mr.Q continued to feel uneasy. His chest rising and falling. Oliver noticed this and chuckled as he stepped closer to the other man, placing a warm hand near his collarbone.
Mr. Q started at him limping, accepting defeat. "Is this something you'll tell Mars about?"
“He’ll find out soon enough” he replies reassuringly. Though he seems to have an upset look on his face as he thinks about mars. For a split second he isn’t the cheery man everyone on the colony has come to know… this side of him only Mr.Q could see.
"Well, I hope this won't take too much off my breaks." Mr. Q quipped flatly, trying to present as reassuring in return. He has never imagined that one day this would happen to him specifically.
“Is that all you’re thinking about?” Oliver couldn’t let that comment go unnoticed.
"I'm not sure what to think about, except hope that I can be good at this."
“Come to me, Quartz”. Oliver splayed his arms and gave a comforting expression. Was Oliver really offering him a hug? Either way, Mr. Q accepted. Letting the older man’s arms wrap around his torso like a warm blanket on a December night. Soon enough, Oliver let one of his hands drop to Mr. Q’s arm, taking a hand in his. Bringing it up to his lips to kiss it gently.
Mr. Q closed his eyes, as if looking through pictures and numbers to analyse behind these eyelids. His expression soon relaxes, and instead of analysing these pictures, he just enjoys the view. But his expression tenses again as he senses Pruitt's desperate glare. Suddenly, he's afraid that he didn't do his job correctly, or is Pruitt just afraid of something beyond what neither of them can imagine?
Mr.Q couldn’t help but let his imagination take him to the past. When the two were just little boys. Oliver Pruitt; an outcast autistic child who none of his teachers could wrap their heads around, and Samuel Quartz; a significantly more “normal” child who somehow liked Oliver. What would they think of this right now? Not only about the colony and mars and tardigrades, but them being together at this moment. Embracing each other not only physically, but emotionally in such an intimate way.
Maybe when Pruitt stood at that doorway, he was looking for the refuge he missed his whole life. Oliver let out a shuddered breath as he opened his eyes and fixed his gaze onto Samuel. Oliver’s eyes looked glossy with what seemed to be tears.
"Hey... No, don't-"
No matter how many times Mr. Q saw the side of Oliver Pruitt that only he could see, he could not, for the love of Science, be confident that he was comforting him correctly. Not that he was confident about comforting anybody. But for some reason, no doubts can draw him away from the beautiful, trembling man that is staring into his gaze at this moment. There is no worry about doing the wrong thing; only worry about whether Oliver Pruitt was okay.
for the first time in years, Oliver seemed scared. Scared of what? Mr.Q wasn’t sure. But just like when they were kids, he felt a sense of guilt. Like he could’ve done something to prevent this.
Oliver's mouths are struggling. "Maybe... maybe..."
Maybe what? The younger man doesn't know. But neither does Pruitt, huh? Has either of them ever considered their own thoughts and feelings in ways beyond the desire for success, for work, for change?
With a badly concealed nervous gulp, Mr. Q goes back to their childhood once again and asks Pruitt to show him what he used to point proudly at in the sky.
"Oh. Oh Pru... Can we go for a walk?"
Stars. Stars and constellations.
Unsurprisingly, they had to walk quite a distance for a clear, natural view of the sky. Too much equipment around. Buildings, machinery and glass obscuring the fullness of the night. They could have went for the space telescope. If it was 5 or 10 years ago, Pruitt would have obliged them to go there. There is nothing for Pruitt but his destiny. Was. He must give, fight, toil and labour. Had to, had to, had to, had to. What now?
Now, to accept the confused but gentle admiration of the boy, man now, that followed his steps and believed him before he had any reason to feels like an unfair trade. *No! Stop it right there! This is not rocket science or business, Oli. You can't measure relationships with equations. It never worked that way. Never worked for all these years.*
Oliver was soon met with a hand, Mr.Q’s hand, gently tucking his flyaway grey hairs behind his ear. His calloused fingers grazing his cheek for a brief moment. It’s in that moment that he remembered why he was here, why he came into Quartz’s room, why he wanted to talk. He could feel his vocal chords straining now, though he wasn’t saying a word.
"Maybe we should take care of each other, Quartz. Not in those conditional ways we've always viewed this relationship. It was. It was one-sided and, God. God if there truly is One, Samuel."
Slowly, Pruitt grabbed Mr. Q's forearms and looked into his eyes.
"I want to take care of you. I have to take care of you. Take care of yourself as you have taken care of me."
Mr.Q couldn’t help but lean into Oliver’s touch. Usually he was the one touching him. Well.. it was never in that way. Just a platonic showing of compassion.. but now was different.
“How do I know this is worth it, Pru”
“Same reason why I know this whole colony built is worth it. It’s for the better of humanity”
“How is us embracing each other like this gonna.. I dunno… solve world hunger?” Samuel was getting snarkier with his remarks. He seemed ticked off for whatever reason.
“It won’t.. but I believe this…” Oliver gingerly places his hand atop Mr.Q’s left cheek. “this was meant to be. Just like the creation of the earth, the sun, the stars, life, death, and eventually when the time comes… the downfall of humanity. It’s all set in stone. It’s just ignorance that blinds people. Makes them not want to believe that it will happen. They want to believe in second chances…” he pauses, a look of regret in his eyes.
“Is this about Mars? You wish you could do things over with Saira don’t you?” Mr.Q had an understanding look in his eyes. Those compassionate, ethereal, otherworldly eyes. Oliver had practically memorised every detail of.
“This isn’t about them!” He blurts. His expression turning weaker now as his lips quiver.
“I don’t want this”
“But you need this” Oliver sounds the most sure he ever has. Elongated the e in “need” with a slight rasp. “You think I wanted to leave Mars to live out his childhood without a father? No! But you know what I did? I did what was right. I came here to-“
“You killed people” Mr.Q’s pupils dilated as those words left his mouth.
“Why are you..” Oliver’s fake British showman accent started to fade.
“You think all of this is for the better of humanity, when all of it is just based in your selfishness” Mr.Q couldn’t take it anymore. His face was turning redder than the face of the very planet they resided on. His eyes watered, he spat as he enunciated every consonant. “Pru.. I’m fucking sick. You say we were meant to be, but isn’t love just selfish? Isn’t us loving each-other selfish? You say people are ignorant to the truth, but isn’t love a part of that? People use love as a means to have a meaning in life, something to search for. You say humanity is naive and stupid not realising you’re a victim to the very thing you’re fighting against”
“You don’t understand Quartz-“
“Oh I understand everything about you” Mr.Q looks like his head is going to burst right off any second. “I’ve studied you my whole life. I’ve seen you turn from a wonderous, excited, beautiful young boy. To a selfish, stuck up, evil loser. I don’t want to be here, Pru. I’m here because of you!”
“And why is that, huh?” Oliver started to raise his voice too. Soon their faces were just centimetres apart. However the tension between them couldn’t be measured.
“BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVE YOU!”
And with that, two men who spent the entirety of their lives to science finally got hit with how much of themselves they have exausted. Years and years of effort spent on a person so filled with self-righteousness or years and years of effort spent actualizing a fate that brought less joy than sorrow. They stared at each other, finally aware of what they can not describe.
After a few seconds of staring at the dirt path left of Mr. Q, a soft, weak laugh came out of Pruitt's reappearing grin. He is acting as if nothing happened. That the thoughts they shared to each other was nothing to dwell on more than duties and assignments. Another issue whose resolution is as simple as colonizing Mars. Mr. Q felt that the weight behind his neck surrendered the will to become lighter.
For whatever reason, Mr.Q’s subconscious path led him to Pruitt’s office. It was large, larger than most of the rooms on the colony. It consisted of a few bookshelves, a closet, a large desk, and a two-person bed. Mr.Q always found that odd. But what he didn’t know is that to get himself to rest, Oliver would often place a pillow next to him on the bed. Embracing it, caressing it, kissing it as if it were…saira? At least that’s what Oliver wanted to believe. Though whenever he imagined the pillow having a personified form, his mind was always led back to Samuel Quartz.
Samuel started to wander, his thoughts doing the same. Eventually he found himself in front of a large bookshelf. Although there were many books, in the middle area, a collection of vinyl records was displayed. A record player being placed on the other side of the room. How Oliver was able to bring all these to mars while not getting them severely damaged and warped in the process was beyond him.
Amongst the array of records, one caught his eye in particular. It was an original version of *Fables Of The Reconstruction by R.E.M.*
Samuel felt his stomach start to churn at the memories it gave him.
Back in high school, Oliver was absolutely obsessed with that band. “Isn’t it extraordinary how it seems like Michael Stipe can say absolutely everything without saying anything at all?” he’d say while trying to disifer the lyrical content of their debut album, *Murmur*. I guess the title was quite fitting.
Oliver even tried growing his hair out to try and look like Michael Stipe (before he was bald of course). It was amusing seeing the way his slight curls bounced as he got excited to show him his newest project.
How long has it been? Back when ideas were hopeful without being commanding. Back when the two men could have a decent and valuable conversation. It's even sadder to think about once Mr. Q tries to count the number of all the people on Earth he could have a good conversation with. Communication that made Mr. Q feel understood, like he was contributing to the conversation. He was instrumental and indispensable, once.
The Oliver Pruitt with stars and constellations in his eyes showed him a path towards a fulfillment he has wished for his whole life. That Oliver Pruitt wasn't afraid of love. So much words that Pruitt said about "taking care". Not a single word about love.
Mr. Q wish he would stop these thoughts as soon as they came. So many things have changed, and people changed with them.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that..” he could feel Oliver kneel down next to him, placing his hands on his shoulders. Oliver chuckled dryly as he looked at the record Samuel was holding. But Samuel didn’t find it amusing, he didn’t forget what happened.
"I don't know what's going on inside your head. I tried to learn why you do what you do. More than anyone I know, honestly. Why can't you just talk to me like a normal person? Please don't laugh and walk away and then just come up to me again everything's fine and dandy. "
“Everything is fine, Quartz! The fact I’ve succeeded thus far is astonishing! Don’t you think? There’s nothing to mope about. It’s all useless in the long run”
“See this exactly the problem” Mr.Q gets up from his spot on the ground, clenching his fist. “You only care about yourself and what you want that you can’t handle other people thinking different than you”
Mr.Q steps closer to the other man, getting a good look at him. His light grey hair was grown out quite a bit, not as long as his in high school, but he almost wished it was. His stature still managed to stay upright and confident as Mr.Q spat right in his eye. Oliver managed to fight any urge to move, instead he whispers
“I want to kiss you”
"Stop it, Oliver Pruitt."
The younger man held up a hand.
"You need to shut up. That's what you need to do. Shut up and listen." With eyes full of disgust, despair and disappointment, Samuel moved his hand near Pruitt's mouth and covered it with his palm.
Unlike the catharsis of protest from Pruitt, Mr. Q was surprised to see him just stand there and stare at him blankly despite the hand sheathing his lips.
“You’re making this hard, real hard…” Mr.Q shook his head, still covering Oliver’s mouth. He only pulled it away when he could feel his tender lips pressing against it. “Jesus Pru! Why can’t you just listen to me!” he was losing it now, and when Oliver tried to defend himself, he pushed him up against the wall.
"Please." A struggling giggle. "Please, Quartz," the older man wheezed, still smiling impulsively.
“Why can’t you listen to me!” Mr.Q punches Oliver across the face with so much force he falls the floor. He would’ve blamed it on impulse, but he knew better.
For a brief moment, time stood still as Oliver felt his nose as he groaned. He was bleeding.
Oliver looked up at the man looming over him, a look of pure terror. Mr.Q couldn’t help but see the little boy in him coming to the surface. The little boy in him who just wanted to be comforted.
But he shook those ideas away now, and just continued to let his anger overtake him.
Pruitt did not know what he was thinking. He did not know what he wanted, what point can be found in many of his actions both done and planned. Eventually he started to believe that letting Mr. Q beat the shit out of him was the best decision he could take at the moment. He just knew he was afraid of facing the truth both externally and internally. This feeling of resigned adrenaline has not entered his body since childhood, but it felt welcome to him.
Mr. Q feels deeply upset at seeing Pruitt like this, but could not put his finger on it.
Mr.Q had no idea where his mind was taking him, but he decided to kneel down in front of Oliver, grabbing him by the chin forcefully.
“You think everything is a joke, huh? Well my feelings aren’t a joke. I think you need to just listen to what I have to say or I’ll rock your shit again” he spat, some of it getting in Oliver’s eye again, which just mixed with the tears that were already welling up .
“Just hold me.. Quartz” he sobs. He could barely speak through wobbly breaths. However, Mr.Q wasn’t having it.
"I have been babysitting you for decades. Decades that I could have spent on so many other... things! And you, you!"
Mr. Q's hand trembled, dropping Oliver to the ground.
"You never apologize. You're never honest about what's going on. And you NEVER face the actual problems. Do you think I won't ever get sick of that garbage? You believe your loved ones can be sacrificed for work. That's why they all left you. That's why. Oh. Why. Why why why."
Even seconds after those words left Samuels mouth, Oliver could still hear it ringing in his mind like a bad migraine. He covered his ears as he curled up in a ball, pleading “stop stop stop stop STOP!”
"Now do you."
Mr. Q never quite had bursts of rage like this. Anger gets replaced with exaustion and some senses of regret weighed down Mr. Q's arms and legs.
"Now do you understand." How I feel? How your life's falling apart? How much everyone hates you? They all don't sound right, but Mr. Q just had to say it. He has been bottling all negative feelings towards this life-long project for too long.
Oliver couldn’t take it anymore. He was shaking uncontrollably. Fingernails digging into his knees as he resisted the urge to throw up by forcing a smile “I understand, Quartz…”
"You."
"Tell me."
"What you understood."
“I-I’m I deserve this.. this pain.” Oliver continues to tremble. Seeing Oliver Pruitt, a man who has pretty much faked everything to get where he is breaking down like this amused Samuel. The sympathy he once had for the man is long gone.
He couldn't help but feel a sense of emotional release, seeing Oliver Pruitt still try to laugh joyously through his painful chokes and sobs.
"Why do you deserve this pain? Explain the full details to me."
Oliver desperately grabs at Mr.Q’s arm for stability. He felt like he was on hallucinogenics the way his head was pulsating. He gagged as he tried to speak, digging his nails into Mr.Q’s arm more. He could feel his nerves pulsating at the same rate as his throbbing head. “I caused you.. this pain because I… I can’t love you without.. without..”. He throws up on the floor next to Samuel, although this doesn’t make him feel any better. A lot worse, actually
Mr. Q winced at the vomit on the floor.
"Do continue. Be honest. Tell me all that you feel. No more lying. No more running away. Remember you will have to clean your mess up yourself." *Finally, for once.*
“I wish I was normal, Quartz. I wish I could study you inside out, frontwards backwards… and I have. I wish relationships were as easy as chemical reactions. Predictable, observable, you… you know” he sniffs “I wish I could love you, Quartz.. and I do. Just not the way you want me to. And maybe love is futile.. but it wouldn’t hurt to give it a second, third, fourth chance”
"That's some talk about me, Pru. What about all the other people? Saira, Mars, and other other kids. What do you have to say to them, individually? That you wish you could allow them to live happily with their families?"
“Quartz, please…stop…” Oliver shakes his head as he buries it in between his knees. “You don’t understand. You never did”
"I will stop once I know that you will change. Give me at least one small promise that you plan on keeping. I can't understand you and I am sorry. But I have never questioned you like this every before."
Oliver takes one of Samuel’s hands in his, the warmth of it making him feel a little more grounded.
“I promise to give Mars the attention he deserves. I want to give him the childhood I never had”
Samuel nods. He suddenly realized how spontaneous his actions for the last couple minutes were. The sweating, standing man still spoke loud and precise, but his tone started to soften.
"You and your son have not been close for a long, long time. I don't know 'attention' is the right word for it, but you must care for their thoughts on... all this a lot more than you already do. "
“You speak like you have experience with that…” Pruitt giggles a tad bit stops as he starts choking again. Mr.Q’s shirt was slightly unbuttoned now, the sweat from his face trickling down his neck. Pruitt took his now shaking hands and ran his fingers through Mr.Q’s damp hair. “Do you have a secret child I don’t know about?”
"No. But what I did do was look after all these students. Every single day after they were chosen and before they got taken away. It was a part of the job you assigned me."
“And you did a good job at it, I suppose..” Oliver looked down at his feet. Avoiding eye contact as his hand slipped from Mr.Q’s hair to his arm. “I’m.. sorry Quartz”
The sweat covering Mr.Q's skin grew cold as his body warmed. After all that was said and done, he could only stare at the older man emptily. Still, there was rage and disappointment, but they couldn't steer him away from an instant awareness.
*Oliver Pruitt looks so old.*
Then he himself must feel quite different, too, from his much more animated teenage years. Has it really been that long?
He felt that when Pruitt touches his arm that his hand was still shaking. The adrenaline seems to be escaping him, now. Now, the thoughts that the broken man seems to provoke in him is changing. It's not artificial or cheap that the hand that once pointed to bright lights in the heavens and promised to bring life up there turned out to hide a mountain of twitching, cackling, roaring powerlessness, it's horrifically sad.
A part of him still feels that if he didn't do what he did, this side of Pruitt wouldn't have peaked, and then he wouldn't have gotten chance to exposed him bare. Pruitt wouldn't be forced to hear all that Mr.Q never said. But, he did wish things could have changed. Not just Pruitt, but everything that surrounded both him and himself.
“So.. what now?” Mr.Q queried, still his eyes seemed dark and lifeless. He was tired. “Are you just gonna go back to the way things were, or change something?” Pruitt sighed, his arm now travelling to the taller man’s hand. He caressed it with his thumb, tracing over all the veins that were now protruding from his earlier fit of anger.
“Listen, Pru..” he bites his lip. Trying not to give in to Oliver’s touch. “If it’s anything.. be better for me.. for us”
Oliver could feel his muscles tense when he heard *us*. “I don’t know if me *trying* will change anything, Sammy”
Mr.Q flinched when he heard that nickname. He hadn’t called him that since high school when he was still somewhat himself and still had his somewhat long curly hair. It felt like what he’d imagine it felt like to have a loved one wake up from a coma, all their past memories flooding back to them.
"Oliver." Mr. Q shut his eyes in fear of looking at the older man's face.
"Change was your entire thesis regarding life. If the world could be saved from climate change and war like you said it would, why don't you think it'll get better when it comes to... this??" He said, gesturing at the ground.
“What do you mean…*this*?” Oliver knew exactly what he meant, he was just too afraid to say it.
"All the time and energy we spent together, Pruitt!"
“Why do you care so much about me, anyway?”
The younger man cannot fathom how a man so smart can be so stupid at the same time. "Have you forgotten the conversation we just had a while ago?!"
“No.. I just don’t get why out of everyone and everything you chose to do, you followed me. You could be living out *your* dreams with *your* family but you chose to follow the path of me.. why? If you think I’m so stupid then why did you do all this? Doesn’t that make you stupid, too?
“Well, Pru.. you never really cared about my dreams, did you? My dreams only came into your mind when you wanted to make a point." Mr. Q sighed absently. His flame has completely died down, but that managed to somehow make Pruitt feel worse.
“Well then.. I’m here now, I’ll listen” Oliver gives a enthusiastic smile. “What would you want to be doing now if you weren’t here?”
"At this very moment, or just not being here in general?"
“This very moment” Oliver reaches for Mr.Q’s hand again. Interlocking their fingers.
"I would work my ass off on paperwork. But if I don't even have to do my job, I think I would go home and try to learn a new pie recipe. "
Oliver giggles but soon tries to hide it by clearing his throat “so you don’t want anything.. more?”
"Can't find anything else that would have mattered. I just want to live a life that could make some people happy, maybe. " *Dumb*, Mr. Q immediately thought of his response.
“you’re so…” Oliver was gonna say perfect, but the compliment would’ve felt disingenuous. *No one is perfect* he thought. He decided to change the subject.
“Why were you looking through my records?”
"I don't know. I missed you."
“But I’m right here..”
There was silence. Both men attempted and failed at seraching for other words.
"I wish I could be as accepting of change as you, Pru." Mr. Q's tone of voice was genuine.
“Ah..” Oliver looked down. “You missed me before.. *this*”
“I’m not saying the fame got to ya Pru but… well… it did. You’re smart and all and I loved seeing your enthusiasm as you told me about space. You seemed so.. serene. I just wish you didn’t become so obsessed with other peoples image of you. When I see you now, Pruitt, I see you're hurting others and that you're avoiding things that have once excited you. When I see you now, I see someone who is unhappy and believes they must stay like that because of a destiny that never cared for you individually."
“Nothing excites me anymore, really. The only thing I want, right now, is this..” his hand rests on Mr. Q’s shoulder. His strawberry blonde hair still damp with sweat. They both knew what was about to happen. With an unreadable face, Mr. Q opened his arms and held it around the shorter man.
After checking that Pruitt was not discomforted, he squeezed him tight.
“I wish it could be this way forever.. for eternity, Samuel” Oliver takes Mr.Q’s chin in his hand, leaning in not too quick as to not alarm the other man. It felt natural to them. He closed his eyes as he gave Mr. Q a small peck. He didn’t go all out as to not, again, alarm him.
"You look like a mess right now, Pruitt." Mr. Q tried not to grin.
"Here."
The younger man grabbed a towel near Pruitt's computer and began cleaning the other man's face.
“That tickles~” Pruitt giggles childishly.
"Done. Now we're all set, pal." Mr. Q tried really hard not to grin.
“Mmm.. don’t call me that..”
"Just trying to be cheeky. What do you want me to call you? Mr. P?"
Oliver giggles some more. Squirming in Mr.Q’s arms like he’s being tickled “nonono.. I like it”
"Oliver, you're my chum. My chummiest comrade buddy. My ol' mate. Friend-friend companion. Partner, you are."
Oliver continues to smile uncontrollably. Trying to hide it by burying his face into Mr.Q’s chest.
This all felt so..familiar. The way they held each other reminded Oliver of whenever people would buy him at school, and Samuel would come to comfort him “think, in 20 years they’re all gonna be rotting away while you’re travelling space and changing the world” he’d say.
"Did I say too much, my confidential collaborator?"
“I’m afraid you haven’t said enough~”
"Alright, my brilliant consort. Better half, life-long company. We're helpmates. Bosom buddies."
Oliver starts blushing uncontrollably. His smile so wide it hurts his cheeks.
“How about we get off the ground,hm?”
Oliver leads the other man to his bed, grabbing a mint on the way and plopping it in his mouth to make sure his breath no longer smells like puke.
Oliver sits down, patting the spot next to him.
"Hope the sweat on my clothes won't stain your sheets." Mr. Q landed beside Oliver, evidently more relaxed than before.
“That’s the least of my worries~” Oliver rested his head on Mr.Q’s shoulder. Resting a hand on his beating chest.
"What now?" Mr. Q asked casually. He feels like he is now welcomed in a situation he has never been in before. It's comforting: he feels comforted, but he does not know much of what he should expect.
“Talk to me, Sammy. All I want right now is to hear your voice”
"Not sure. Not sure what to talk about honestly."
“Whatever you want.. I want to make it up to you. All these years not listening to what you have to say”. Oliver lays on the bed now, letting his muscles relax. Mr.Q sees this and does the same, laying beside him.
"I just wish we had the time to relax. To spend time with our families, friends. With each other, as well."
“Well aren’t we doing that now?”
"You're right. But now, after that's done, I don't know what else I want." Mr. Q stared at the ceiling, and then turned around to look at the man's ruffled hair and pink eyes, so rarely disorganised and vulnerable. "Except."
“Hm?” Oliver turned his body to face him, the bed creaking as he did. He softly placed his hand on Mr.Q’s cheek.
Gritting his teeth from Oliver's glance, the taller man almost winced away from the touch. Long time coming. He already spent way too many years just trying to realize his thoughts towards the smiling, warm ball of light laying next to him.
*I can't say this.*He thought. *Too straightforward. Too embarassing. But I have to eventually, don't I?*
"I."
"Tell me. I don't judge."
"I want you."
“You…” Oliver’s pupils dilate as he feels his stomach start to feel strange. From what Pruitt knows, this feeling is often described as having *butterflies*. “In what way.. d-do you want me?”.
Usually Pruitt was supposed to know everything, but when it came to relationships he was pretty much stupid beyond comprehension. Mr.Q couldn’t help but give a slight smirk at his question (and his stupidity)
"Well. I would like to stay with you- working, living, whatever-to the end of my life, if I have to be truthful. That's the more sentimental aspect of it, I think."
As far as Mr. Q knew, all of his own relationship "experience" are from books and films. But even that is more than Pruitt's understanding of companionship. It's both funny and ironic that the man with an ex-wife has less knowledge of love than the vegan ex-uber driver, but it's somehow so endearing to the younger man, as well.
“Do you want to know what I want, Quartz?”
"Would love. Would love to know, really."
“I want to be yours… completely. I’ve always wanted it. I don’t even know if my words are coming out right or if I’m making a complete fool out of myself but..” Oliver pauses as he hesitates to continue his sentence “I’d rather say it now instead of spending the rest of my days wondering what could’ve been.” His eyes start to well with tears, but he continues anyway.
“Ever since that day in 6th grade when you stood up for me, when you asked me at the end of class if I was alright… I felt this feeling that you were different.”
Now, Pruitt's tears invoked a feeling that was the exact opposite from what happened just a few minutes ago. There is currently a familiar touch of deep sympathy in the younger man. He wants to grab a towel and wipe these droplets away.
"Please continue." He said instead.
“Is it weird that I feel this sense of wanting to be protected? I want to be held by you. I want us to make sure no other outside forces can interfere with us” he let out in a low whisper. He wanted to gag at what he just said.
"Like. Like this?" Mr. Q can practically feel the cold sweat flowing down his neck, but he had to hold Oliver Pruitt inside his arms again. He prepared a lot for middle age, but he never expected finally hugging the man he desired so tightly around him while they both are in their late 40's.
Oliver finally let’s all the tension in his body go. All the regrets and bad memories he’s been holding on to for years suddenly slipping away as Mr.Q’s slightly muscular arms held him tight.
“Exactly… exactly like this”
And. And. And. The younger man felt that something had to happen next. Something that he, personally, had never quite done before. He was sure Pruitt had personal experience as he was the only one with an actual ex-partner. Why did he think he has to do it quickly, he doesn't know. Probably due to the fear that he will miss the moment and lose it forever, or the simple fact that the sweat on his face might drip onto Pruitt's, and that would be no good. But whatever it is that he has done, he had done already. It was in the past now.
Nothing intense yet, just a forehead kiss.
*Good job, Sam. Next move. Now.*
Mr. Q put his hands over Pruitt's shoulders and smooched his two cheeks. Oliver leans more and more into Mr.Q’s touch. A slight gasp escaping his lips whenever he kissed him. But he was getting impatient… he wanted more
“Quartz…may I?”
"Yes. Yeah. Yes. Go ahead."
It was all so real now. Oliver would think he was dreaming if it wasn’t for the feeling of Mr.Q’s heartbeat reassuring he was, in fact, there.
“Turns out those high-school bullies were right, I am gay” he playfully jokes, smirking as he leaned in.
Mr. Q may have slightly blacked out, or it's just the shock of all this contact that made him almost forget what he was doing. He still took in the shorter man's kiss and just wiggled and held it there for a couple of seconds. Oliver let’s his body do whatever felt right. His hands gliding down to the younger man’s waist as the kiss deepened.
*This feels right.*Mr. Q thought.
The next few hours were spent mostly laying there in silence, but for them that was enough. Just knowing that they were both alive and together. They both felt like they missed out on so many things they could’ve done if they just confessed sooner, but they both knew it wasn’t that easy.
**flasback sequence**
*”do you think this hair makes me look like a girl?”
“maybe.. but you’d be a pretty girl.. if I was a girl I’d totally date you”
“But why not if I was a girl?”
“Because you don’t need to change anything, oli…”
“Well what if we were gay.. or we were both girls and just lesbians”
“You know we can’t be gay”
“…right”*
**the next morning**
With a ingrained attention to routine, Oliver instinctively woke up at 7 in the morning. The room was dark and quiet, with the light breathing of Mr. Q at his side. Fear suddenly flooded Oliver's mind for no apparent reasons.
"Quartz, Quartz? Are you there?"
“Huh??? What’s wrong?”
"Oh. Oh. Nothing." Fingers rose to massage temples. If he was somehow resting with Mr. Q any time before their talk last night, he would have automatically assumed himself to be alone when he woke up. He thought about this, and for a bit too much as to not hear what the hypocorism that the other man accidentally used.
“I wish we could just lay here all day”
"Yes...Well. We could stay a few minutes if we had to. I could stay here, I meant. I have chores, I do."
Oliver bites his lip, in attempt to hide his cheeky grin. His stomach felt awfully warm, that warm feeling soon spreading all over his body as he sunk back into bed.
“Come…here”
“Don’t I have work to do-“ Oliver is quick to cut him off.
“That can wait”