MCYT Oneshots

Locker Room (Quackity & Schlatt)

TW- Crying; hurt/comfort;

Requested by 

I changed this one up a bit, hope you don't mind too much. :)

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The locker against his back was cold, chilling. Water broke the barrier and slipped down his cheeks, but he wiped them away quickly, reducing him to sniffles. He had to get himself together, the bell was going to ring soon.

Schlatt let his head hit the locker as he stared at the boring ceiling. The lights flickered in the old, musty locker room. The air was heavy with sweat and grime littered the floor. It was disgusting but this was the only place with no disturbances.

Or so he thought. . .

A boy crashed in the room, panting. Schlatt jumped, eyes moving to the new person in the room. The boy didn't spare a glance at him, he probably didn't know Schlatt was here.

He looked out the small glass window carved in the door before sighing. He turned around and immediately jumped at the sight of Schlatt, He gave a laugh, adjusting his beanie over his dark locks. "Sorry I didn't know anyone would be in here,"

Schlatt nodded, unsure of why anyone would run in here voluntarily. He furrowed his brows, asking, "Why are you in here?"

The boy didn't respond right away, instead walking over and sitting on a metal bench. He grimaced at how gross it was but, none the less, sat down. He wiped his hands on his jeans while saying, "Running away from Mrs. Applegate." Ah, the math teacher, makes sense. "She may be old, but she sure can run."

Schlatt gave a huff of laughter, "I bet," He'd once seen her chase after a student for not turning in their homework the day it was due.

A silence settled between them. An awkward one. Well, maybe more for Schlatt, the boy had taken out his phone from his jacket pocket, and seemed to be scrolling through some social media. He looked Mexican, wearing a blue, white striped jacket and a pair of black jeans, with a beanie on his head. His shoes looked like some cheap knock-off brand of some sort, and it looked like he didn't have socks on.

Schlatt put his head back against the locker, a quiet 'bang' from the metal echoing across the room, but neither seemed startled by it. Schlatt crossed his arms, and continued to stare at the ceiling. It wouldn't be long until the bell rang, he'd be fine.

In his peripheral vision, saw the boy look up, powering down his phone. Schlatt looked down. They made eye contact for a brief moment before the boy looked away saying, "My names Quackity,"

Silence entered the room, Schlatt being unsure if he should introduce himself, it was unlikely they'd meet again. He pushed that aside, maybe talking to someone would put his mind at ease. "I'm Schlatt,"

He answered simply, uncrossing his arms. The boy, now known as Quackity, repeated his name, testing it out on his tongue. After, his eyes looked down at his shoes, shuffling his feet around. "So," He started, "Why're you in here?"

Schlatt gave a thought, should he say the truth? Or lie?

He decided to lie, "Well, I wasn't running from a teacher like you, I'm just skipping class."

"Understandable," Quackity gave a nod of agreement. Whether to Schlatt or himself, it was unsure.

Another beat of silence settled around them until Quackity spoke, "Then why do you look like you've been crying?"

Schlatt tensed, and they made eye contact again, this time Schlatt being the one to turn away. He'd forgotten about his reddened face. "I haven't,"

"Really?"

"Yes,"

The boy hummed, the sound echoing across the gross room. "You wanna talk about it?"

Okay, now this boy is getting on his nerves. "I told you, there's nothing to talk about."

Schlatt adverted his eyes back towards Quackity, annoyance clear in his eyes. Quackity met his look, his emotions untellable. Their conversations have been less of words and more of unofficial staring contests now.

Eventually, Quackity stood up, walking over in a few steps to lean against the cold metal as well. With a sigh, he looked up at the ceiling light that would flicker sometimes. Schlatt stood his ground, keeping his eyes in the boy.

"I won't force you to tell me," Quackity started, "But I think it'd help."

They stood silently next to one another, both in their own minds. Schlatt's was running at top speed. Should he breakdown and tell someone? Sure, it'd get somethings of his chest but it could also be a terrible decision. But, would it really change anything either way? He took a breath.

"My parents kicked me out."

His voice wavered over the words, but he cleared his throat after, looking down at the floor. He could practically feel Quackitys eyes on him, full of pity probably.

"Well, do you have a place to stay now?"

Schlatt actually hadn't thought of that. Where was he going to stay? He didn't have any friends, nor did he have any relatives in the area. He sighed, banging his head back on the locker, he didn't have the guts to open his eyes, he knew he'd start crying if he did so. "No, I guess not." He whispered. This was harder than he thought it'd be, maybe he didn't have such control of his emotions as he had thought he did.

A hand was rested on his shoulder, and Schlatt opened his eyes to look over at the boy, he didn't bother wiping away the streak of water the fell from his eyes. Quackity gave him a smile, a pitiful one. It almost made Schlatt laugh, almost.

The boy pulled him into a hug, a Schlatt melted into it. It reminded him of his mothers hugs, warm and tight, it made him feel fuzzy. He buried his head into Quackitys shoulder, letting quiet tears dampen the boys jacket. He shouldn't've been here, crying on a strangers shoulder, but he couldn't bring himself up. He was undone, the warmth coaxing him into thinking he was safe. And maybe he was, who knows. Quackity rubbed his back, a small gesture of comfort Schlatt adored.

They stayed there until the tears were replaced with sniffles. Quackity, still rubbing circles in his back, asked, "Would you like to say with me?"

What? Schlatt froze, his grip loosening.

He felt the boy tense. "Only if you want too. My parents are out of town for the week, they'd understand."

Schlatt felt tears well up in his eyes again, muttering out a quiet and grateful, "Yes,"

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The end is a little rushed, sorry about that. I'm trying to get through these requests as best as I can.

Requests are closed. Reopening soon.