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"I’m starting to think you don't understand what I'm asking of you.” Joel Chatterbox had laid down next to Quinn on his bed, the size being small for him to lay comfortably in. “I do enjoy our little spats and disagreements, don’t get me wrong.”
“But maybe, we could be something more than simply rivals?” He suggested, lifting a hand to reach out towards the ceiling. There was a moment where his silver rings glittered in the light, one on each of his hands to signify some importance he hadn’t disclosed yet. “If I hadn’t told you that breakfast outing was a date, I assumed you would think this came out of nowhere.”
“It’s still a shock.” The Toon admitted, sitting on the edge of the bed since he didn’t want to take up space. He could feel his tail hit metal in a rhythmic motion, signaling to him over and over that Joel was there with him. “I mean, I thought you hated me.”
“Hate you?” There was a moment of pause before a scoff followed. “Why would I hate you? You’re doing your job, aren’t you? You were told to get rid of Suits, and you followed without question.” He went to sit up, making the bed creak from his weight. “Why, the most negative thing I thought about you was that you were dreadful to be around.”
“Dreadful?” Quinn asked, sounding more curious instead of hurt. “Is it because I find things funny?” He glanced over his shoulder, not expecting to meet Joel eye-to-eye. “I mean, considering our differences in how we act and what type of things we find fun, I don't really.. er, take offense?”
“I see.” The Suit’s expression softened at the explanation, moving closer to the other. “So you do understand, then? I used to dislike you before, but now it's complicated.”
“Hah, complicated?” Quinn snorted out a laugh, turning his head away to stare at his jellybean bank. “Try explaining to your boss why other Toons see you getting trailed by a mere third-level Lawbot.” The words slipped out before he knew it.
“A
mere
third level Lawbot?” His voice wavered for a bit, and only for a bit. All the kindness in his voice seemed to drop, leaving the usual icy nature he had gotten used to after years of spats such as this with other Suits. “Is that how you see me?”
“No, no!” The Toon interjected quickly, jumping up from the bed to move towards the door, though the other did not make any movement to leave just yet. “No, that's what they all keep saying about you, that isn't my personal opinion, not at all!”
“No, do go on.” He urged, motioning him with a hand to keep talking. “I would like to hear
all
about it, Quinn.” He could hear himself grit his teeth, a contrast to his earlier behavior. Rising from the bed, he adjusted his bowtie - attempting to find something to distract himself with instead of leaving so soon.
Call it desperation, but Quinn stood in front of his door with both arms splayed out — knowing Joel could easily up and leave from a misunderstanding. “You are well aware of how.. Most Toons think about Suits. And clearly, I’m not one of them - I let you into my house! I don’t even try to hide you around others, why in Flippy’s name would I dislike you yet act so friendly at the same time?!”
Joel blinked once, then twice, surprised by Quinn’s outburst and how quick it was for him to defend himself. He had certainly picked up that trait from him. His hands, that were fidgeting with the buttons on his suit, relaxed.
“I certainly can’t disagree when you put it that way.” He replied softly, tenderly. “For a moment, I thought you were waiting for me to let my guard down. I can see that I was wrong, though.” A faint, rosy color tainted his synthetic purple skin, though in the light it was barely visible. “I apologize for how I reacted.” He lowered himself back onto the mattress, sinking into it.
“You’re always itching to jump to conclusions, I guess.” The Toon exhaled loudly, moving back onto the bed to sit beside him. “It’s in your ink- well, circuits.” He corrected, feeling a hand brush over the small of his back.
“I suppose so.” It was challenging to figure out what else to say after that, with the Suit debating whether or not he should continue on with the conversation. In the end, he chose to continue. “But it doesn’t mean I’m unwilling to listen to you.”
Quinn could feel the warmth radiating off the other’s body, a sign of embarrassment or vulnerability - he couldn’t quite discern. All he knew right now was that Joel was always willing to hear him out, which was frankly comforting.
“Thanks,” He said to him, leaning against his side to listen to his inner workings run. The sound of machinery always soothes him, despite it being associated with the factories and headquarters of the Cogs. “Really.”
Joel hummed lightly, leaning back against him. “Don’t need to thank me, soft paws.”