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Quackity hated the idea of Multi being so obsessed with control and power. He didn’t want to be a pawn, a tool for another person. He could not stand Multi wanting to become a God. It felt wrong. He didn’t want anything to do with it. At first at least.
The more Quackity spent time with and thought about Multi, the less sure he was of anything. He didn’t know what the nature of their relationship was nor what he wanted out of it. He found himself enthralled by the scientist, falling deeper and deeper. He wasn’t even sure if it was real or just the consequence of the uranium exposure. Quackity knew one thing for sure: he wanted to do a lot of things for Multi. Due to his Christian upbringing, he could only understand that as devotion.
So he was doing it. Facing it. Hoping. Sinning. Committing.
Walking into the elevator leading to the reactor, Quackity was surprised to find that no alarms had gone off. An odd occurrence, given that he never got a physical access card and was not Multi himself. No one else could access the underground that easily, if they could even access it at all. Must be a twisted indicator of an olive branch. Of trust. He leaned against one of the titanium walls, trying to not look giddy about it. The camera tucked away in the corner, by the ceiling, was taunting him. Still, he could not help it, as he smiled to himself.
During the ride down, he found himself restless, his hand limp next to his side, flexing subconsciously. His clothes clung to his back uncomfortably. The elevator was stuffy and way too small. He felt trapped. He could not quite focus on anything. The time slowed down. He glanced at the screen displaying the floor levels, his thought racing a mile a minute. The level where the reactor was hidden away could not come soon enough.
Finally, after a few minutes that stretched out to the likes of eternity, Quackity stepped out of the elevator directly into the decontamination chamber. He briefly just stood there awkwardly, thinking about what he was going to do. The cold water managed to catch him by surprise as he was deep in thought, not fully present in his body. He shivered slightly, feeling his clothes dampen and stick to his skin. He never really liked the safety measure. He had been exposed to radiation before anyway. But there was no other way around, so he surrendered to the losing game.
Then, just as suddenly, he got blasted with hot air, a startling contrast. In Quackity’s opinion, it went on far longer than it should have. His clothes got uncomfortably warm quickly, but he still felt cold. He did not really care. He did not really feel it for that matter. Anything that was done to him in his current state barely truly did anything to him. He was somewhere else mentally. Too focused. With one, very specific objective in mind. Or more so hope. It’s all the same.
Quackity navigated the reactor without any trouble, not sparing a look at the green glowing substance filling the tank in the centre. He wanted to reach Multi’s office as quickly as possible, but knowing he was under the never-stopping supervision of countless cameras scattered around the reactor, he barely sped up. He didn’t want to seem too eager. He felt as if someone was watching him. Not the cameras, no - a person. And he knew very well who that was. So Doc was curious.
The hallways stretched endlessly, the dark grey walls taunting him. He walked. And walked. And walked. And didn’t feel any closer to the office. The whole place was like a maze, even though he knew his way around. He felt frustration rising in him, an ugly feeling, and his ears started ringing. He kept on walking, putting a bit more force into it.
When he finally reached The Door, he hesitated. He felt stupid standing there. He should be with his family in the North. His resolve faltered slightly. Maybe he should not do that. It is wrong, blasphemous, disgusting even. They don’t even know each other that well. But he would feel worse not taking that leap of faith, not succumbing to his own feelings.
Suddenly self-conscious standing there, he grabbed the cross hanging from his neck, hoping to find a sliver of comfort. He didn’t. Ashamed, knowing he will very likely sin, he tucked it under his blue hoodie instead. It was between him and Multi. It would be safer to leave God out of this. At least for now.
He was snapped out of his thoughts by the opening of the door. This one had to have been opened manually as it led to Multi’s safe haven. Doc was inviting him in. He gladly took him up on that and walked into the sterile-looking white office.
Quackity had spent time there before, watching Multi work on something he didn’t bother understanding or coming up with an evil plan of spreading out propaganda about green energy together, but it felt different this time. It felt loaded, less about business or science and more about them.
He was met with Multi already waiting for him, standing in the middle of the room. Multi was wearing his usual all-black attire, though he looked more casual, his lab coat missing. His face held an unreadable expression, his piercing blue eyes focused on Quackity. When their eyes met, everything else disappeared. Quackity involuntarily held his breath. They just started at each other in silence.
In all honesty, a mere glance at Multi was enough to grant Quackity salvation every time. No matter how hard he tried to deny it, that’s just the way it was with them. In their little moment, he could feel God’s mercy, the one he had known since early childhood. A curious paradox - he never could stop sinning around the scientist, yet he felt closer to Heaven than with anyone or anything else. Quackity’s thoughts, those mentioning Multi, alone could put Satan, the fallen angel himself, to shame. Their bond was blasphemous - the mad scientist with the resident sweetheart, toying the line between ethics and crime, work and friendship… Whatever it was between them. Why is it so wrong if it feels so right? He didn’t care about that, he just knew he found his purpose.
Instead of saying anything, Quackity just dropped to his knees before Multi in his spot. Multi’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t say anything, barely reacting otherwise. Quackity’s drop was symbolic - with this action, he was giving up his beloved freedom, shredding any of the little dignity he had remaining. He could not quite say any of it with words, the language barrier annoyingly evident at times. This message was way too delicate for it to be mistranslated and misinterpreted. The risk was not worth taking.
Quackity leaned forward, still kneeling and holding Multi’s eye. He was now blindly devoting his whole self to Multi and only Multi. The long forgotten cross hanging from Quackity’s neck hit the ground, reminding him of its presence, taunting. Instead of worshipping his lifelong God, he was devoting himself to a human, another man at that - he could not have sinned any harder if he wanted to.
“Multi, I would bow fully”, Quackity started. “But that would render you unable to bless me with the divine sight of you. I don’t want to anger my God.”
“Has the uranium got to your brain yet?”, Multi asked, though a pleased smile involuntarily spreading on his face.
Instead of responding, Quackity simply reached his hand out, straightening out and pathetically shuffling on his knees closer to Multi. To spare him some dignity, Multi took a step forward and they met halfway, eye contact held all throughout. Quackity’s greedy, unworthy hand met Multi’s clothed waist - regardless of that, so heavenly slotting into place. Without taking his eyes off of Multi, Quackity leaned in. His lips met with the soft fabric of the scientist’s shirt, a little shy in the action.
Lifting his head slightly, mouth still on the shirt, Quackity saw Multi already looking down at him. The blue eyes were full of something Quackity could not fully grasp. To pull at Multi’s strings more, Quackity turned the kisses wet and open-mouthed - almost demonic and impure in their nature. Yet they still felt like prayers.
That got a reaction out of Multi. He gasped and shivered, slightly stumbling. Quackity, pleased with himself, leaned backwards a little, his knees digging into the cold-tile floor. Multi quietly rested his hand on Quackity’s cheek, his thumb stroking it gently. The most precious blessing he could have given to him. The devotee leaned into it subconsciously.
“Quackity, does there have to be only one God?” Multi's voice barely a whisper, his face softer now than ever.
Quackity could scream Multi’s name from the rooftops and it would still fall flat in comparison with this. He was sure in that moment that no drug could ever give him a high this intense.
“Let’s run away”, said Multi as he dropped down to his knees, now face to face with Quackity, whose eyes filled with tears.