Don't Know How to Feel.

54. So They Know, Huh?

Quackity looked out over the patio, taking in the gentle fresh air and the sight below him.

The sky was a warm orange, a dull white stretching across as the sun beamed down onto the dark and flourished green grass below the even darker wooden cabin.

The patio was decently sized,  with a couch up against the building and three chairs near the railings as they overlooked the bunch of thick trees below.

He almost didn't hear the glass door slide open, the red curtains of the window next to it grabbing his attention before the door did.

He gave a small smile in acknowledgment, turning his head back to the sky and leaning back in his seat.

Fundy followed his gaze, squinting despite it not even being bright before taking a seat next to Quackity quietly.

A new breeze picked up, filling the silence as leaves shook and the wind softly whistled.

They both wondered if they should spark up a conversation or leave the warm and peaceful silence between them to brew a bit more.

Fundy was the first to decide, clearing his throat and glancing over at the other, "Trip's been real fun so far yeah?"

"Yeah," Quackity agreed simply, sighing afterward, "And now it's the last day."

"It is.  Soon you'll be back doing homework on how to run a country," Fundy said with a tease, a slight smile on his face as Quackity chuckled.

"Yup. Well, and other stuff," He turned to Fundy, raising an eyebrow, "Work isn't the only thing I do all the time. You do know that, right?"

Fundy stared for a few moments, then quickly nodded, "Of course."

"You're so believable."

"What? No, honestly," Fundy defended himself, urging Quackity to agree before he turned away, "I mean, I don't know what you would be getting up to but I'm sure you are."

"Right," Quackity dragged out, pushing a foot down on the railings he leaned back, "Well, it's a lot. I'm not swimming in a pile of work anymore. Haven't for a long time."

"Oh, what have you been up to then?" Fundy asked, humming a little as he focused on a bird perched in a tree.

"A lot," Quackity repeated. Fundy only scoffs, mumbling something incoherent.

"Just… stuff that thankfully doesn't involve paperwork."

Fundy thought to himself for a moment, sitting up straighter, "Yeah, and none of that stuff would have to do with uh, those hickeys huh?"

Quackity's face plummeted at those words, quickly trying to recover but it was too late. Fundy's already noticed. So Quackity cleared his throat, staving off the feeling that time had hiccuped in disbelief.

"Uhm, well… that depends, really."

"Come on Quackity. This isn't the first time-"

"What?"

"At the party. When we were getting ready for it to start."

"Oh."

Silence fell over the two, but not for too long as Fundy quirks up an eyebrow, "So?"

Quackity tried to swallow the embarrassment that was bubbling in his throat, shifting awkwardly in his chair.

"Listen Fundy, it's a long story so maybe we should talk about something else."

"Nah, nah. Let's hear it."

Quackity just crossed his arms, facing the other way. He didn't want to explain this to Fundy of all people. But Fundy wouldn't stop prodding at Quackity, urging the subject back to focus.