Archive of Our Own

The return from college vacation always brought with it two types of students: the freshmen excited about their future miserable lives and the upperclassmen who knew the horrors they were about to face for another year.

Quackity was more inclined towards the second option.

In his third year of law school, he already knew about the countless assignments, exams, debates, and headaches that awaited him. However, he couldn't say he was unhappy, especially since he really enjoyed his course.

He really enjoyed having his brain stimulated by the intelligent questions his teachers asked, he liked being able to express himself freely to defend a specific point of view, and he liked even more knowing that in the future he could help people obtain their rights.

But what he really enjoyed most was the chemistry lab.

Not because of the subject itself, Quackity had never particularly cared about molar masses, reaction rates or whatever they do in there. No, what drew him to that sterile, white-tiled room on the third floor of the science building was something else.

Or someone else.

He remembered exactly the first day he set foot in the university, accompanied by his best friend Roier. They both met Aldo in the courtyard, who was with a friend from Poland who had come as an exchange student.

Quackity remembers how his heart pounded when he first saw Multi.

The sexy accent in his voice when he spoke. One head taller than him. Older, maybe four years. A smirk and a sarcastic manner that made Quackity forget how to think or breathe.

As the first and second year progressed, they became very close. Quackity was persistent, and Multi seemed to enjoy his company.

It had started small. Innocent, even. A few conversations in the hallways, sitting together in the cafeteria, late-night study sessions where Multi would ramble about cellular respiration and Quackity would pretend to understand, just to watch the way his eyes lit up.

Quackity knew that Multi was in a small band with his friends in his native country but had to quit because he wanted to get a degree in something he really enjoyed.

He also knew that Multi had a 9 AM organic chemistry lecture on Tuesdays, that he always grabbed a black coffee from the campus kiosk at 2:15 PM, and that he stayed late in the lab every Thursday to finish his research project.

Well.

Quackity never considered himself obsessed, but he simply couldn't help it when faced with a man so interesting and so his type.

That was precisely why Quackity was wearing a black cap, partially hiding his face, and a similarly disposable black mask, watching as Multi ordered his food at a diner downtown.

His cell phone made a low, almost inaudible "click" sound when he quickly positioned it against the window and took a picture. He felt his cheeks heat up as he stared at the screen, showing the distracted and absurdly gorgeous figure of Multi.

It would probably go to the printer later.

Multi was alone today. As always.

Quackity watched him check his phone, frown at the screen, and then set it face-down on the table. The waitress came by, a middle-aged lady with tired eyes and a practiced smile, and Multi ordered without looking at the menu.

Quackity knew what he was going to order before the words left Multi's mouth.

Two eggs over easy, toast with butter on the side, and a glass of water with lemon. No coffee, he already had one at 2:15 PM and doesn't like having more than one a day because it makes his hands shake.

Quackity's heart fluttered with the small thrill of being right.

With the most composed expression he could muster, he entered the diner beaming after removing his mask and throwing it in a nearby trash can. Pretending not to see Multi sitting at a nearby table.

He simply ordered a coffee from the waiter, a blond young man who handed him the drink for free with an easy grin. Quackity didn't quite understood why, but didn't mind much, thanking him with an equal smile.

Then he turned around, and with the help of his childhood acting classes, feigned surprise at seeing his friend and approached him. — Multiii! Hi! I didn't expect to see you here.

The scientist looked up and his eyes softened in that way they always did when Quackity appeared, a mixture of genuine warmth and mild exasperation that he had cataloged and replayed in his mind hundreds of times. — Heey! What the fuck, i had no idea you came here.

Without waiting for an invitation, Quackity sat down in the chair across from the table and smiled with a sickly satisfaction as Multi carefully held his hand with the hot coffee to prevent him from getting burned. — Well, yeah, i come here on some weekends when I'm too lazy to cook something. — The lie flowed easily from his lips. He had literally been inside that diner maybe twice at most.

— Oh, nice, nice. They have good coffee. — Multi commented, resting his chin on one hand as his mesmerizing blue eyes stared back at Quackity's dark ones. — You okay with just that? I can pay you something, you know.

𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬, 𝘪 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮.

— Ay, Multi. And what do you want in return? — Quackity responded suggestively in a theatrically manner, with a mischievous grin on his lips, hearing Multi's laughter echo like a beautiful melody in his ears.

— Your fucking mouth shut. — The waitress arrived with Multi's food, setting the plate down with a practiced efficiency that came from years of service. Multi thanked her, his accent curling around the words as he also ordered a chilaquiles for Quackity, even though he had said it was no need.

Quackity watched him cut into the eggs, the yolk spilling golden across the plate. He couldn't help but notice, perhaps for the tenth time, how his friend's hands seemed to move in slow motion whenever he watched him closely.

Multi's hands were pale, as was his whole body, the blue veins showing through with every movement of his fingers around the cutlery. Quackity imagined that hand tightening around his neck.

— You're staring. — Multi's said without looking up, pulling him from his thoughts.

— Sorry. I was just thinking. — Quackity lifted his coffee cup to his lips, using the ceramic rim as a shield for the flush creeping up his neck. His brain, miraculously, managed to come up with a good excuse. — You know Ewron's throwing a party tomorrow? Apparently half the campus will be there, i swear that guy must have people all over his house every day.

Multi made a sound that could have been a muffled laugh or a grunt of displeasure, it wasn't too difficult to tell that he didn't take to Ewron since last year. — Yeah, i heard Roier talking about that. You're going?

— Mhm, i think so. Tina said she wants me to go with her and Foolish. — The hot coffee went down his throat like a comforting hug on a cold day. The same waitress left the chilaquiles in front of him, and he thanked her with a smile. — And besides, there will probably be good beer.

Multi hummed, noncommittal, and took a bite of his toast. The crunch was loud in the quiet space between them, but Quackity didn't mind. He liked the small sounds Multi made when he ate, the way he chewed thoughtfully, like he was analyzing the molecular structure of the bread.

— You know, you can be friends with whoever you want, but it bothers me a little that you hang out with Ewron of all people. — The words weren't exactly harsh, they sounded more like concern. — He's toxic, manipulative, and you know how he is with Katie. I'm just saying that if you plan on getting drunk, don't do it at this guy's house with him there.

Quackity's fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around the fork as he speared an avocado from the plate. Obviously, he knew all of this, Ewron doesn't have a very good reputation, but his smooth talk saves him from many things.

Ewron is really funny, despite being a bit crazy, and always makes Quackity laugh when they talk.

𝘉𝘶𝘵, 𝘎𝘰𝘥, 𝘘𝘶𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘱 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘔𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰.

— I mean it, Quackity. — Multi set down his fork, his blue eyes fixed on him with an intensity that made Quackity's skin prickle. — I'm not trying to tell you what to do, but you're... — He paused, seeming to search for the right word. — You're important to me, okay? I don't want to see you get caught up in his shit.

Quackity's heart stuttered. He was usually so good with words, had built his entire academic career on his ability to argue and persuade, but Multi had a way of reducing him to a stammering mess with just a few sentences.

— I- i mean, you're right, you're so right. I appreciate that. I'm not even that close to him, we just talk sometimes. — Now he looked like an complete idiot trying to explain himself as if he'd committed some crime. Great. — Anyway, Tina won't leave me alone if I don't go, and you know i really bring myself to say no. So, i was thinking... you could go... with me? I swear, it's only for an hour or less, you don't even need to see Ewron.

Multi's fork paused mid-air, a piece of egg yolk dripping back onto the plate. His expression was such a deep grimace that Quackity almost laughed. — ... Are you serious?

— Come on, i don't wanna be alone!

— You definitely won't be alone, you're like, one of the most sociable people i know. Tina will be there, Foolish, Aldo, probably Juan and Graf too.

— Well, it's not the same. What if I get drunk and I'm surrounded only by equally drunk people? What if I get kidnapped and killed in an alley because you weren't there to help me, huh?

— Jesus fucking Christ.

Quackity leaned over the table, making his best abandoned puppy face he could muster. — Please, Multi, pretty please? With whipped cream and a cherry on top?

Multi stared at him for a long moment, his expression caught somewhere between genuine annoyance and the reluctant fondness that Quackity had learned to recognize. Finally, he let out a long sigh, even though his cheeks were flushed.

— You're so fucking annoying. — Multi finally said, but there was no heat in it. He picked up his fork again, pointed it at Quackity like an accusation. — One hour. That's it. And if Ewron so much as looks at me or you wrong, we're leaving.

Quackity's face split into a grin so wide it almost hurt. He had to resist the urge to pump his fist in the air like a victorious child. — Deal! You're the best, Multi.

— Yeah, yeah, i am.

They ate in comfortable silence, occasionally commenting on random things like some of their college gossip, an episode of Breaking Bad, or just complaining about their chores. With most people, Quackity felt the need to talk all the time, but with Multi, he could appreciate the way he breathed calmly while not speaking.

Quackity watched him finish his meal, cataloging every small movement with the kind of obsessive attention that had become second nature to him. The way Multi licked a crumb from his thumb. The way he pushed his empty plate aside and leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head in a way that made his shirt ride up just slightly, revealing a sliver of pale skin above his jeans.

Quackity's mouth went dry.

— You're doing it again. — Multi raised a eyebrow.

— Doing what?

— Staring at me. What are you thinking about?

𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘢𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘧𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘺-𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘰𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵.

— Nothing much, just trying to remember if i left the stove on. — He lied casually and placed the cutlery on the now empty plate.

The two got up to go to the counter to pay the bill, and in a quick movement, Multi was already pulling out his wallet, handing some bills to the cashier. Quackity looked at him with a dreamy expression, as if he were hanging the sky and the stars.

— You really didn't have to, i can pay my own things.

— But i said i would pay, i'm a man of word. — Multi shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket and tilted his head toward the door. — Come on. I'll walk you back to your dorm.

— But-

— Quackity. — Multi's voice was patient, but firm. — Stop arguing with me and walk.

Quackity shut his mouth and followed him out of the diner, his heart hammering against his ribs.

 

Quackity probably shouldn't have drunk so much.

Multi had picked him up at nine o'clock at night and now it was almost eleven o'clock. His arm was firmly around Quackity's waist as he helped him to his feet.

The party was still very noisy and lively, it would probably last until the next morning, and Multi definitely didn't want to stay there another minute not after Ewron's friends, who by some twist of fate were also Quackity's friends, gave him dirty looks the whole night.

Multi would really like to know what lies Ewron had told them about him, or if they were just being protective of the Mexican guy who was literally clinging to him.

— Multiii~ I want another one. — Quackity's drawling, whiny voice was muffled against his chest, which only made it worse to think straight.

— No more drinks for you, we're going home.

— But I'm having fun. — Quackity pouted, dragging out the last word like it had three extra syllables. His fingers curled into the fabric of Multi's hoodie, knuckles white with the effort of holding on. — You're no fun, you know that? All serious and sexy and- — He hiccupped, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink. — and mean to me.

Multi began to drag him through the crowd, his body pressed against his to prevent him from tripping over his own feet like an idiot. — Just shut up, you need air.

Eventually they managed to get out of the spacious house, and the sudden cold breeze made Quackity's teeth chatter, his leather jacket was doing nothing to keep him warm.

Multi took off his own sweatshirt, leaving only his loose, sleeveless shirt and put it over Quackity's head, it was a size or two too big, but it looked ridiculously good on him.

— Won't you get cold? — Quackity asked, his voice lower than usual, his red cheeks making Multi's heart clench with tenderness.

— No, don't worry about it.

The walk to Quackity's dormitory was rather arduous, if that was the right word.

Multi had to physically steer him around a lamppost that Quackity seemed determined to walk straight into, and at one point, the shorter man stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk to stare up at the stars with such intense focus that Multi thought he might be having some kind of existential crisis.

— Pretty. — Quackity mumbled, swaying slightly. — They're so pretty. Like your eyes.

— Oh my fucking god. — Multi sighed, feeling the heat rise up his neck. In a somewhat clumsy movement, he placed one hand on Quackity's back and the other behind his knees, lifting him off the ground.

— W-what?! I can walk just fine! — The law student exclaimed, grabbing Multi's neck as if he might fall at any moment. Which could theoretically happen, since Multi wasn't exactly that strong and he was carrying a full adult.

— Sure you can. You're stopping every two minutes, and at this rate we'll only get there next week.

Quackity grumbled something incoherent against Multi's shoulder, but his grip loosened, his body going slack with an ease that spoke of trust. His breath was warm through the thin fabric of Multi's sleeveless shirt, and Multi tried very hard not to think about how natural this felt.

How right it felt to have Quackity in his arms.

Upon reaching the dormitory door, Multi had to exert considerable effort to open it without causing Quackity to smash onto the floor. Inside, it was rather messy, with glasses and clothes scattered around the small living room.

— You smell so nice. — Quackity murmured out of nowhere, his nose brushing against Multi's neck like a cat seeking affection. Multi almost dropped him.

— Stop sniffing me, you weirdo.

The soft bed gently bumped against Quackity's back as Multi laid him down, going to get some pills and water when a hand grabbed his wrist.

— Stay here with me. — The Mexican's voice was slurred, almost seductive in its form.

— You need water, you look like you're going to throw up.

— Multiii. Stay. — A more insistent tug convinced him, and he sat up in bed near Quackity's head, who immediately lay down on his thighs. A low, inaudible murmur was muffled in his pants.

— What?

— I said... — Quackity began, his face partially hidden. — I like you. A lot.

Multi's entire body went rigid beneath him.

For a long, suspended moment, the only sound in the room was the distant thump of bass from the party still raging across campus and the rapid, uneven rhythm of Quackity's breathing against his thigh.

— What did you said?

His voice came out rougher than intended, stripped of its usual sarcastic armor. Quackity shifted, turning his face just enough that one dark eye peeked up at him through the dim light filtering through the curtains. The alcohol had softened his edges, made his usual sharp features go all blurry and vulnerable in a way that made Multi's chest ache.

— I like you. — He repeated it, more confidently this time, as if he were testing the words on the tongue. — I love you. I've loved you since the first day, i don't think i've ever loved anyone as much as i love you. — Finally, he turned his head and Multi, looking down, could see his eyes shining with a passion that bordered on being unhealthy. — And i know you love me back. You know that, Multi. I just need you to say that you love me back, please. I don't think i can live without you.

The words came out so firmly, so possessively, that Multi could have felt frightened.

But he wasn't.

His eyes darkened and he felt his pants tighten pathetically. He tilted his head, his nose brushing against Quackity's cheek, warm from the alcohol.

— I love you too. Please tell me it's not just the alcohol speaking. — Multi's voice cracked on the last word, raw and desperate in a way that made Quackity's heart stutter violently in his chest.

— It's not, i swear it's not. I'll tell you tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and as many times as you want. — He leaned in and kissed the corner of Multi's mouth. — I love you so, so much.

— Fuck, i'll kill myself if you don't tell me this sober.

Quackity laughed and clung to his neck, his lovestruck eyes practically vibrating with satisfaction. — Stop being dramatic and just kiss me already.

Multi surged forward and kissed him.

It wasn't gentle or tentative. It was hungry, desperate, months of repressed longing pouring into the press of his lips against Quackity's. One hand tangled in the shorter man's hair, tilting his head back, while the other gripped his hip with bruising intensity.

Quackity made a sound against his mouth, something between a gasp and a moan, and arched up into the touch like a flower turning toward the sun. His hands roamed up Multi's chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart beneath his palm.

— I need to tell you something.

— What? — Multi breathed, somewhat disoriented by the intensity of his emotions.

— That time you received a new guitar in front of your house, it was me. Every time you said you felt watched and i told you you were being paranoid, you were right. I couldn't stop watching you, i know i'm insane and you're probably disgusted right now but i needed to tell you.

Multi's eyes widened and he recoiled for a few seconds. However, slowly, a surprised smile formed on his lips. — You're crazy. — Their lips met again, and it was kind of weird because Multi kept talking while his tongue was almost choking him. — You're absolutely, completely, certifiably crazy. You know that this constitutes at least three crimes, right? You sure learned that.

Quackity's head spun, he couldn't even form words anymore. He'd confessed his darkest secret, the one he'd been terrified to reveal, the one that made him sound like a stalker, a freak, someone who deserved to be pushed away and never spoken to again.

Instead, Multi was kissing him like he'd just been given a gift.

Quackity may be crazy.

But for the first time, while feeling the hands he had dreamed of so much on his body, squeezing his thighs as if he could escape at any moment...

He really doesn't care at all.