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G. and him were quite different. Q. knew it since the beggining. Since the very first moment he laid his eyes on the younger man.
It wasn't just their age or appearance. G. had deep, dark eyes that always shone with something dangerous and wild and unpredectable. An Ikarus who will fly too close to the sun, they said. In exchange he was just...him. Tall and uncomfortable and shy but with a clever mind despite his awkward exterior. Maybe that's the reason they got together at the end of the day.
Despite what people might think, G. was a dreamer, a big one, and Q. knew it better than anyone.
But dreams and wishes are always such a...romanticized, idea. Full of hopes and delusions and big, unknown possibilities. G.'s dreams were quite different. They were sharp and strategic, willing to devour anyone who got in their way. Because G. wasn't like the rest. He dreamed. And he acted.
G.'s dreams were just like him. Hypocritical. Furious. Dark. Very dark.
Q. was okay with it. After all, we dream in the dark for the most part.
Darkness was the word capable to describe G. completely. Since his curly hair to his aggresive gaze which he always try to soothe under a fake smile. Even his soul, if Q. was allowed to believe in those things, was the same way, or at least that's what the hybrid supposed. A human being who was always starving for the whole world to be at their knees at him couldn't be any other way.
Maybe that's why Q. always enjoyed to smoke in the night, away from the yarn and lost into himself, while he pretended the darkness around him was, indeed, the doctor who stole his complete existence.
He was rather pathetic. Q. had the knowledge of it. Those were words he have heard multiple times before. This time, however, was the only time he agreed with them.
Because he allowed himself to be reduced to a wasteless pig. No protest, no rude words. Hell, not even trying to fight against G. knowing he was taller and stronger than him. No. Just a dumb, shy nod from him and G. got him wrapped around his finger with only a tilt of his head.
Oh, but how couldn't he? When G. was his whole existence now. Assigned by the Center at first, and now staying by his own willing. Because under that grumpy, rude man existed a wonderful mind and passionate soul. Things Q. valued the most, even when the rest of investigators always mumbled that G. may be a little too much.
He was. Q. wouldn't discuss about it. G. was like those mad scientific characters in books, just like a Victor Frankenstein or a Henry Jekyll, drowned by their own inventions. G. will finish the same way, and Q. had no doubt about it. Dragged down by his actions, his intentions, his ambition. And Q. was prepared to be dragged with him.
To be willing to march into hell for a heavenly cause, they said.
Because the instant G. let his mask fall down, from time to time, mean the whole universe. A genuine smile, a nervous twist from his hands, a glimmer of innocent curiosity in his eyes. A flash of a second in a life filled with more than a billion of them, and yet, those were the moments Q. kept safe in that spot close to his heart.
He had the chance to catch G. dancing one time, weeks ago. The scientific probably realized a part of his investigation after hours of hitting his head against a wall, or maybe the tests were just as G. needed them to be. Q. wasn't sure, but he was fortunate enough to see it, when he opened the door slowly to not disturb him, just as he always used to.
G. spinned around his laboratory, slowly, delicately, like a feather moved by the kindest of winds. Dark curls bouncing with every move, lab coat swirling around the slim, delicate frame, long legs leading to elegant steps, one after the other, as G. mumbled a song so softly an average human wouldn't be able to hear it clearly. But Q., as the hybrid he was now, caught with his sensitive ears. That was the only time Q. thanked God for turning him into this creature.
He sometimes caught himself humming the same song, even if he doesn't know the name, no matter how deep he had search since then. He mumbles it either way, when he's all by himself, as if jealous someone else will hear. To share his valuable little secret with the rest. No one deserves to hear it but him. He's convinced of it.
So he hums the song like a chant, deep and paranoic, just like now, as he chewed nervously at the tip of his cigarette while he replays the same picture on his mind once again, and again, and again, until he's drunk with it. Until his blood is boiling and his skull is throbbing and his nose is capable to catch the whiff of G.'s scent even if he's not here–
"I knew you were going to be here." A voice interrupted him, and he jolted awake despite having his eyes wide open. He glanced up, trying to catch his breath, and saw him. The man who stole his whole life with just a snap of his fingers, a role of his eyes, a word destined to him.
"I–I...Do you n-need my h-help?" He stammered, as usual, and G. just huffled, as if annoyed with his answer. Still, he settled next to him, head resting on his arms.
"Just a cigarette. It has been a long day." He hissed back, and Q.'s ears twitched slightly, catching that particular tone G. always has on his voice when he's frustrated. He probably dealt with little A., or the consequences of the boy's actions. He didn't dare to ask, as usual, and just nodded as he clumsily searched for his package of cigarette and handed one to him.
"A-ah but...I forgot my lighter." He confessed, flustered. G.'s growl made him feel so dumb. "I-I lit my cigarette before I settled h-here so..."
"And what about using your cigarette?" G. quickly interrupted him, and Q. blinked in answer, confused.
"W-what do you mean?" He replied, and received a roll of eyes as answer.
"The bottom of your cigarette, you idiot. We can light mine up if we press the tips together." He explained, clearly frustrated, talking to him as if he was a damn child. Q. flushed even further, breath hitcing for a moment at the idea of getting G. into a worse mood, even if that's the usual between them. Still, he nodded shyly, and did just as he asked.
Q. held his breath as G. leaned close, so close he was able to see how those long eyelashes fluttered, creating dark shadows under the pale, soft skin. Q. never had a chance to be this close to his boss, except for the times they have been intimate. Steam off the stress, just as G. likes to call it. And yet, they have never kissed once.
This might be his chance, to push away their cigarettes and press his lips against that hot mouth for the first time, to finally discover what G. tastes like.
But as quickly as G. leaned closer, he pulled away once his cigarette was lit. Easy comes, easy goes.
The silence filled the space between them, no matter how much Q. wanted to cut it, to stop being a coward for once and part his lips and ask all those questions he has been wanting to ask G. for so long.
'Cause God, he really has tons of questions to do. From his full name to know if he has brothers or sisters and what cologne is he using and what kind of books he likes to read and what shoe size he is and which is the damn song he was humming that time and if he means the same G. means to him, even if he already knows the answer from the last one.
But he didn't. The cigarette is finished, and G. got up with a lazy stretch.
"It's late. You mustn't stay here too late unless you want to be a dead weight tomorrow for the investigation." G. called, which means in his language Q. should go to bed now, he nodded, and watched as the doctor left without saying goodbye, tearing apart his whole being with every step he took.
Then, before G. disappeared in the darkness of the night, he did it. A soft, innocent spin on his spot. Just as he did when he caught him dancing. It made him go breathless. Wide eyes staring at the long frame as he did the spin and, then, disappeared into the night.
G. knew it. Knew Q. caught him that time, and even better, he was okay with it to even do it again in front of him. It was their secret, and it felt even dirtier from those times they had sex away from the prying eyes from the workers at the farm.
The doctor disappeared into the darkness, just from where he belonged to. Q. smiled, and got up after a while, following the same path with slow steps, into the darkness, into the unknown, into the captivating essence of G.'s being, just as he promised he would.
Because, for him, there was nothing as precious to look after G.'s dreams. That was his glorious quest.
Because, after all, my heart will lie peaceful and calm when I lay to my rest.