Dilemma [Pumpkin Duo]

7: I don't wanna be a dead man walking

"Right, I really best be off," Schlatt said quickly, smiling sympathetically at Quackity; he didn't want this awkwardness to be longer than it had to be. Prime, why the fuck did he even ask that? Like, was he expecting Quackity to just confess his love to him, and go back to how they were in Manburg? No! Quackity was smarter than that now, and Schlatt was more respectful, and...

" 'Kay," Quackity hummed, chewing on the nail of his index finger. "Can we go out again this evening?"

"What?" Schlatt echoed. The way he read the room told him that Quackity was finding this awkward too, so this was the last thing he expected.

"Please?" Quackity asked, his tone quiet. "I need to get out of here."

Schlatt regarded him with kindness and sincerity, which even he thought seemed out of character for himself. "Yeah, sure, sure. We can go somewhere."

"Somewhere quiet?"

"Sure thing," Schlatt said softly. "Hey, d'you want me to take these?" Schlatt asked, putting his hand on the bird's skull. "I don't think you want them around."

After hesitating, Quackity nodded. "Alright. Thank you, Schlatt."

As Schlatt left Quackity's office, the weight of the awkward conversation lingered in the air. Quackity sighed and leaned back in his chair, contemplating the recent turn of events. He couldn't shake off the unease that Schlatt's question had stirred within him. The thought of defining their relationship made Quackity feel vulnerable, and he wasn't sure he was ready for that.

...

The low hum of distant conversations and the soft clinking of glasses enveloped them in the dimly lit bar, its ambience providing a sense of seclusion from the bustling world outside. Schlatt and Quackity found themselves nestled in a corner, each nursing a drink as they attempted to escape the shadows of their complicated history.

Quackity's gaze wandered across the room, taking in the subdued glow of neon signs that cast an otherworldly hue on the exposed brick walls. He couldn't shake off the unease that lingered from their earlier conversation, the words hanging in the air like an unresolved chord in a melody.

As the ice cubes clinked against the glass in his hand, Quackity decided to break the silence. "So, Schlatt, what's the game plan with Dream? How do we navigate this mess?"

Schlatt leaned back in his chair, taking a thoughtful sip of his drink. The dim light accentuated the contours of his face, revealing the lines etched by the complexities of his existence. "We play his game, but we control the moves. If he wants Las Nevadas open, we make sure it's on our terms."

Quackity nodded, appreciating the strategic clarity in Schlatt's words, as much as he hated to admit it, he had forgotten how intelligent Schlatt was, especially when it came to politics. "You're right. We can't let him think he's won. Let's turn this situation to our advantage. And, by the way, thanks for offering to handle the bird skulls. It means a lot."

Schlatt gave a nonchalant wave of his hand. "No big deal, Quackity. Anything for Las Nevadas." There was a momentary pause before Schlatt broached the earlier awkward conversation. "About earlier, I didn't mean to make things weird. I just thought... after last night, we should know where we stand."

Quackity stared into the depths of his drink, the amber liquid reflecting the swirl of his thoughts. "It's not that I don't want to answer, Schlatt; It's just that I don't really know how to. Things are complicated, and I've never been good at this kind of stuff."

Schlatt chuckled softly, a wistful smile playing on his lips. "Relationships can be messy. Let's not overthink it for now, we've got bigger fish to fry. We can figure the rest out once we're past this Dream situation."