Chapter Text
Quackity frowned, running a hand over the glass. He wasn't sure what he was feeling, staring down at the frame in his hands. It had been tucked away, hidden from prying eyes. Had he not been meant to find it? He hadn't been looking, had just stumbled upon it while reorganizing things: The document he and Schlatt had signed at the beginning of their partnership.
He looked over the words, not really reading them as he scanned each line. He could remember drafting it, going over the terms and the clauses, and remembered reading it through with Schlatt over wine. He remembered when Schlatt proposed a final condition: That Quackity acts as his mate for a few weeks, because it would generate more support, or something.
His signature was different now, he noticed, trailing his fingers over that space. It was unpracticed, the letters slightly smudged by his hand as he’d written it. His stomach twisted, his throat tightening as he stared at the simple letters. He should probably feel some kind of embarrassment, some kind of amusement or something; he'd been so unprofessional, so messy and uncoordinated. It was terrible. It hadn’t seemed so at the time, but he knew it was now.
Quackity swallowed, and it felt like something was constricting around his heart, tightening the more he looked. He tried to think straight, he really did. He tried to feel that he'd been stupid, to feel ashamed, to feel anything that he was meant to- the things that Schlatt would tell him were right. He couldn't, though.
All he felt was… sad. It was a strange kind of grief that left him cold, but- but an almost warmth tentatively bloomed in his chest. It was odd, remembering not being… this. He was behaved, professional, and as close to perfect as he could be for now. He was nervous, and selfish, but he was good enough. Before Schlatt had taught him better, though… hadn't he been loud? Always talking, chatting with anyone about anything? He'd approach others, he'd play pranks… he had fun?
Something in him recoiled at the memories, and he could almost feel Schlatt's hand on his back, urging him away. He had been awful back then; inconsiderate, rude, annoying, messy, selfish, ugly- just all around undesirable. That version of him was dead, gone. Purged by Schlatt.
Quackity was grateful that he'd deemed him worth enough to fix. The contract's forced relationship had ended months ago, but when it did his alpha had offered his hand and asked him for real, and he had said yes. He… Through those first few weeks, Quackity supposed he had fallen in love while pretending to be. Why else would he have agreed to this? Why else would he have stayed, when the contract was done?
He loved Schlatt, then. Maybe even before that, at the signing. He wouldn't have agreed otherwise; he wouldn't have stayed, and gone on dates and shared kisses and tried so hard to be perfect and wanted, and he wouldn't have shared a bed with someone he didn't like.
If he did, then Schlatt would be right; Quackity would give everything of himself, cast away his self-respect, lay down his values, and sell himself to anyone at all as long as they could murmur praises and touch him until he was satisfied, and-
And that wasn't right. It wasn't true. He'd never been like that- He, he'd made jokes sometimes, he supposed, but that wasn't… it wasn't… was it? No, no, he'd never meant them- but why would he say them otherwise? Why would he, when it was something that would always just read as an attention seeking omega trying to cajole an alpha into taking him for the night, whether because of the invitation or just to get him to shut up and behave.
Quackity's grip tightened on the frame, his hands trembling. He could barely make out the words now, his vision blurred and distant.
He hadn't ever felt like that was what he was doing, but Schlatt was probably right. He usually was. But- but he didn't want that! He wanted to be with Schlatt, no one else, so… So he'd fallen in love, and could satisfy all those wants that he must have with Schlatt, and didn't need to try to be noticed anymore. He did love Schlatt, so he hadn't sold himself like that. Their relationship started as a contract, but it was more than that- and it was more than physical pleasure too.
Because, if he'd always really wanted all that, then… Why was he so scared? He knew he had wanted a relationship, a partner he could talk to, and eat with, and hug, kiss, snuggle and sleep beside… but he'd never paid much mind to more than that outside of the jokes - requests? - he made. And when Schlatt broached the subject for the first time… Well, Quackity hadn't been opposed to trying it out, but he couldn't shake the prickling sense of dread, the nagging fear of what was going to happen- which Schlatt assured him was normal for someone's first time, so it had been fine but-
But it wasn't fine. Not when it was actually happening.
Anyway! Quackity shouldn't be thinking about all of this! He was organizing, yep, just cleaning up, trying to fix whatever it was that had been nagging at him. He was reminiscing over memories. He wasn't crying. He wasn't… oh. There were tears on the picture frame. Quackity stared for a moment, slowly processing the feeling of tears on his cheeks. That was- that was odd! Probably just- just happy, thinking about when he and Schlatt signed their contract and everything became perfect! That was it. It had to be. It had to be.
He jumped as the door opened, whirling around to see Schlatt stepping into the room. Their eyes met, and Quackity quickly looked away, scrubbing at his face. He tried to compose himself, but he only seemed to cry more as Schlatt approached.
"Hey, darling," Schlatt murmured, gently taking hold of his wrist and guiding his arm away from his face. "What's wrong?"
Quackity fumbled for an answer, a million different thoughts coming to mind and being shoved aside just as fast. Schlatt frowned, finally noticing the frame in his other hand. Quackity could barely force himself to let it go, but managed to release his hold on it as Schlatt took it from him. The alpha looked it over, confused only for a moment before smiling.
"I've been meaning to look at this," Schlatt said, skimming the lines before looking back up. "But, why are you crying?"
"I-" Quackity swallowed, trying to find words. I'm not happy? I can't remember when I fell in love with you? I feel like a stranger? I can't trust myself? I want to feel what you say I do? There's no way I could pretend this long, so I need you to stop because I really don't feel what you do, and I'm scared? I wish we were different?
Every single option was terrible- he really was just awful, wasn't he? Selfish, unreasonable, with too high standards and no sense of other people's feelings. He shook his head weakly, and Schlatt sighed. He set the contract down on the shelf he'd found it, before scooping Quackity up into his arms.
Something about that made the tears come faster, and he let himself cling to Schlatt as he sat them both down on the couch. His alpha ran a hand through his hair, shushing him gently as he sputtered and cried. This. This. Sitting side by side, being held, being loved and loving back- this is what he wanted. Not the harsh words, or the ever increasing standards, or the way his body was used. Everyone (Schlatt) disagreed, but- but how in this moment could he be wrong? When he felt more care and comfort from a hand in his hair than he did in an entirety of a night being bedded?
Quackity buried his face in Schlatt's shoulder, sniffling. The alpha hummed, rocking him gently. "Can you talk to me now?"
"I…" Quackity couldn't think. Couldn't find the words. "I… I missed you."
That was true. He missed moments like this, things that were so much more common in the past. He missed those early days, when he still felt like himself.
Schlatt chuckled, moving his hand from Quackity's head down to rub his shoulders. "Well, I'm here now sweetheart, and I'm not going anywhere."
(The tears just kept falling, his heart feeling even more splintered than before.)