Q has been avoiding you and it's left you asking one too many questions. Does he not like you any more? Did you upset him somehow? Have you done something to make him angry with everything?Sometimes Brian had those moods where he would be vindictive and moody because one thing had happened; had you done that one thing?
Either way, sitting with Sal and drinking a little seems to alleviate it. With a tired grumble and a sip of your alcohol, you sigh and lean back into the sofa.
"I don't know what's up with him, Sal. I think I've done something."
The Joker takes a long swig of his drink, puts it aside and then sighs, folding his hands over his stomach and turning his head to look at you. Snorting, you reach forwards and adjust his glasses, him grinning.
"Listen, I know Q. If he were angry, you'd know. Trust me."
"You say that like it's supposed to be comforting," you mumble, tipping your drink back. Sal takes your hand gently, eases it back down and puts it aside with his own. There's no way he's going to let you get drunk; a little is fine, it gets people to be more honest and open, but he doesn't want you to forget the things he's saying to you.
It's just a pain that he can't tell you why he's being this way - because that's for Q to tell. He'd confessed to having feelings for you, had tossed the idea of asking you out back and forth while Sal had desperately tried to convince him that he could. Sal knows Q gets nervous - Sal knows Q better than anybody; that's the point of their friendship, the pinnacle of their time together as best friends: they just know.
"I can tell you with one hundred percent certainty, [Y/N]: Brian Quinn is not angry with you."
- - -
A night with Sal and suddenly your head is feeling much clearer. You'd settled on his couch, smiled at him when he'd brought you a blanket (even though he'd tried to persuade you that it was okay for you to take the bed and he'd take the couch instead) and bid him goodnight with the ritualistic head pat he'd insisted on giving you since you'd become friends. He's protective of you, is Sal Vulcano, treats you like a little sister.
Now you're sat alone at home, contently stirring a spoon in your piping hot tea, considering what to do with yourself. And it isn't with loathsome deliberation that you consider it either for you feel as if you have infinite control. Since discussing things with Sal, eradicating the possibility of Q being upset with you, it has all come to mean a lot less to you. If Q is in one of his moods, simply let him be and he'll come back around eventually.
A knock at the door breaks your half-awake trance, fingers stopping their stirring as you look up and quirk an eyebrow. It's early... maybe you'd left something at Sal's house? Getting up, you trail to the door and blink at who you see. Q, standing there, looking mousy in comparison to how he usually does; as if he's shy.
"Hey," you greet coolly, moving aside so as to let him in."What's up?"
"I need to talk to you."
Those words set you on edge, bring last nights anxieties back in a rush of confusion and dread. With a quiet mumble of 'uh, sure', you close the door behind the man and move to sit in your original spot. Hands clutch the cup of tea tightly, the warmth doing little to soothe the ice that has lodged itself in your chest as he makes himself comfortable on the couch and steeples his fingers.
"Uh– I know it's early, but I couldn't not say it any more," Q mumbles, dark brown gaze averting away from you as it settles on a particularly 'interesting' spot of your carpet. Tilting your head, you place your tea down on the coffee table and reach between the seats you've both taken to tap his knee.
The Joker looks at you with a pang of fright in his eyes, as if he knows he's about to destroy you.
"What's up, Q?" You're frowning, lips pinched slightly with seriousness that doesn't become you. Still, the man appreciates the effort and exhales softly, pressing the pads of his fingers together before he blurts his confession.
"I-really-like-you-[Y/N]."
Blinking rapidly, you chuckle meekly and ask: "...what?"
"I have feelings for you. And the reason I've been distant is because I needed time to think about what the hell I was gonna tell you, whether I was evengonna tell you. I'm sorry."
Is this or real? Is he joking? He certainly doesn't appear to be, nerves rendering his gaze vacant as he looks at you and wills himself to disappear. No, this is no joke... besides, Q wouldn't be that much of a dick.
Shaking your head slowly, you smile at him and move from your seat to sit beside him. He shuffles in place, and you swear you see a hint of red staining his cheeks. With a gentle hand, you guide his face to look at you via his chin and press a soft kiss to his mouth. Brian tenses, not expecting it... before he lets loose the most relieved sigh you've ever heard and kisses you back.
Pulling away, you nuzzle his nose with your own. "Don't be sorry. I thought you were mad; this is perfect."
"So,", Q speaks up, smile tugging at one side of his lips, adorable half-grin forming. It doesn't do anything to dampen his apprehension but it's sweet all the same. "Do you maybe... wanna go out, some time? Maybe we could do something..."
You smile, laugh briefly. "...I'd like that a lot, Brian."