Work Text:
"Rachel," David said, interrupting Rachel's endless yammering, "how do you know you're in a situationship?"
It was the Thursday after the disastrous congressional hearing, and they were in minute forty-six of Rachel desperately trying to talk David into not firing her. It wasn't going well for Rachel, who had basically been filibustering for most of the time, going into great detail about her personal life and how she definitely wasn't incompetent and also David would ruin not only her life but also Dana's, and did he really want that on his conscience, and also wasn't this all a bit homophobic, really, and also dogphobic, because if Rachel lost her job they wouldn't able to take care of their dog anymore and then David would forever be known as the homophobic dog-hater and frankly David had checked out at around the half hour mark.
His thoughts had wandered first to how much he definitely was going to fire Rachel, and then to who he could replace her with, which inevitably led his thoughts to Brad. Brad, who had barely spoken to him since they had their little squabble. Brad, who had fallen asleep curled around him and then gotten up and left before David had woken up. Brad, who David's heart yearned for, despite the fact that he knew full well that it could never be the relationship he wanted.
He was in such shit.
Which was why he asked Rachel about it, because—well, mostly because she was there and he needed to talk to someone about it.
"What?" Rachel said, looking baffled.
"A situationship. How do you know you're in one?"
"I don't—why are you asking me this?"
David sighed, raked a hand through his hair. "I just feel like I'm in limbo. And I've never had a relationship like this. They've always been pretty straightforward, you know?"
"A relationship with who?" Rachel asked, still confused. "I didn't know you were dating again."
David narrowed his eyes. "Why would you?"
"Because usually when you're dating someone, you let everyone in the office know."
"Okay, well," David said, a little offended, "this time I didn't. But I am letting you know now, because—well, it's complicated."
"Right," Rachel said slowly, "and if I help you, will you let me stay on?"
"You defended child labour in front of congress and embarrassed our entire company."
"So is that a yes?" Rachel sat up straight, gave her most dazzling if nervous smile.
"Rachel."
"Okay, okay." Rachel deflated. "So, what's going on?"
"Alright, so…" David hesitated, tried to find the right words to describe what kind of clusterfuck he had found himself in. "Let's say I've been… seeing someone. But we're not dating exactly. But we're not not dating, you know? Like, I think there's mutual feelings going on, but he's not—"
"Wait, he? You're dating a man? David! That's so cool!" Rachel exclaimed, her eyes lighting up.
David rolled his eyes. Christ, he should've been more careful with his words. "Yes, it's a man, and no, I don't want to talk about that aspect."
"No, sure, but I do want to point out that queer solidarity is very important, so—"
"Rachel."
"Right. Sorry."
"Anyway," David said, "we've been… intimate for some time now, and I thought things were going well, but then we had a fight—"
"Hold on," Rachel interrupted, "is it Brad? Are you dating Brad?"
David went pale. "What? No. What—why would you think that?"
"Because you had sex at at the murder-mystery party and told everyone about it, remember?"
Oh. Right. He'd forgotten they all knew about that.
"Also, you and Brad have been weirdly close for months now, what with him going to your poker nights," Rachel added. "I kinda thought it was just another manipulative ploy of his, to be honest. So what did you fight about?"
David put his head in his hands and sighed deeply. "It was another manipulative ploy of his."
"Oh. Yikes," Rachel said. She awkwardly patted David on the shoulder. "Sorry, man."
"Thanks. We sorta—we didn't talk about it exactly, but we… worked it out through other means, or so I thought—"
"Gross."
"—Anyway, now he's avoiding me again, so I guess we didn't work it out after all. And I don't know what to do."
"I mean, you should probably just talk to him about it," Rachel said.
"Right," David scoffed. "Talk to Brad Bakshi about feelings? I'd have better luck turning you straight."
"Gross, David."
"Sorry. I'm just saying, he's a complicated man." David rubbed his forehead. "That's not even mentioning the ex."
"Whose ex?"
"Brad's ex. Or at least, I think she's his ex. She's, ah—we had a—" He tried to find a way to describe the whole mess without using the word 'threesome'. "Well, we… hung out. And there was clearly still something between them. So there's that too."
Rachel tilted her head. "You hung out with his ex?"
"In a manner of speaking," David said.
"Oh." Rachel looked at him quizzically, head still tilted, until something in her brain seemed to click into place, and she looked disgusted. "Ohhh. Jesus, David."
"Hey! What happened to queer solidarity or whatever?"
"I know, I know," Rachel said hastily. "It's not that I'm against polyamory, it's just… it's conjuring up some images in my head that I don't really want to see. I'm still a lesbian. And you're still my boss."
"For now," David said darkly. "Anyway, it's not like we're all dating! I haven't heard from her in months. I just—sometimes I wonder if he's still thinking about her. Or worse."
"Okay," Rachel said hesitantly, "but do you see how just talking about it with him would help?"
"Ugh," David groaned, sliding back in his chair. He hated this. How was Rachel the more mature one here? He didn't want to have to talk to Brad, he just wanted everything to be alright. He just wanted a normal relationship with no ex or threesomes or manipulative ploys or whatever other mess he'd gotten himself into.
Maybe he needed to talk to someone else. Someone who understood mess.
"Ian, where the hell have you been?"
"Oh sorry, man," Ian said through the phone. "I'm kinda taking a leave of absence right now."
"A leave of—why?" David said, exasperated. It was always something with these creatives.
"Well, because Poppy's taking one."
"Poppy's taking one too!? Since when?" Jesus Christ. This was perfect. He really didn't need the company to fall apart right along with whatever passed for his love life.
"Don't yell at me, David, go yell at Poppy."
"I can't yell at Poppy," David said, "because she's not here either. Can you just—can you come to the office? I need to talk to you."
"I'm kinda in the middle of a game here, David, I really gotta go—"
"Wait, wait, wait! Just real quick—I need some advice," David said desperately. "Personal advice."
"Is this about you fucking Brad?"
"What! How did you—"
"Dude, you told everyone you fucked at the murder-mystery party."
"Okay, it was Brad who told everyone, technically—" David started, but Ian cut him off.
"Whatever, man. Everyone can tell you've been having some weird little thing ever since."
"Oh." Everyone? Had he been that obvious? "Okay, well, you're the king of weird little relationships, so—"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Ian asked, offended.
"Oh, come on," David wailed, "you're literally avoiding work right now just because Poppy isn't here! You cannot judge me for having a somewhat complicated relationship with someone."
"I can when the person you're fucking is Brad Bakshi. You know he's gonna crush you, right?"
"He's not going to crush me, don't be ridiculous. We've just hit a bit of a snag—you know what," David said, giving up, "I don't know why I thought talking to you would help. You have no idea how to fix your relationship with Poppy, you're not gonna be able to fix mine."
Ian snorted. "There is no relationship to fix. Dude's a psychopath."
David felt his face heat up. "That's not true. There's something between us. And he's not a psychopath, he's—I mean, I think he's genuinely—"
"He's what, in love with you?" Ian laughed. "Be so for fucking real, David. He's wrapped you around his finger, either for nefarious purposes, or just to fuck with you. That's all. Best you can do is let go of him."
What if Ian was right? What if all this had just been a ruse? He had said fucking him wasn't part of the plan of getting Dana out of her contract, but what if that too had been a lie? Could he ever trust anything that came out of Brad's mouth? And what if he genuinely had feelings for David, what then? What would the future hold? What, Brad Bakshi was going to go steady with him? Marry him, spend forever with him? That seemed improbable. Impossible, even.
"I just… I don't know how to let go of him," David said, his voice a little shaky.
"Yeah," Ian said, "been there."
"Yeah…" David said. A silence fell between the two men.
"Right, well, enough contemplating. I need to get back to it," Ian said finally.
"Oh, you're coming back into work?" David asked hopefully.
"No. I meant golfing."
"Oh. Right. Well, after that, can you—"
Ian hung up.
Things were crashing down around him. Again, for the hundredth time, and again, it was Ian and Poppy's fault. Well, not the Brad situation, obviously, that was his own fault. But the work situation definitely was. If they'd just listened to him, if they'd just stopped working on the expansion… But no, now he had a masterpiece on his hands, one he needed Ian and Poppy for. If he could've convinced Dana to be their lead programmer, maybe he could've salvaged it, but of course she refused. Creatives! They were a pain in the ass. The only upside of all this was that it distracted him from Brad. Some part of him had hoped he'd find him at Dana and Rachel's place, had hoped that maybe he could talk to him there. Even just seeing him would've been nice. He'd tried calling, but Brad didn't pick up. But maybe it was better this way, he thought as he all but ran through the office, on his way to convince Poppy to come back. Maybe he needed some space.
The elevator dinged and Brad was there.
David stopped in his tracks. Shit. Shit.
"David," Brad said. So casual, like there was nothing between them, like they were just coworkers.
"Brad," David returned, trying to sound as casual and failing completely.
They stared at each other for a moment.
"Why are you here?" David asked, the only question he could manage at the moment. Maybe Brad was here for him. Maybe he had wanted to talk, too.
"Just going to clean out Dana's office," Brad said. He had a strange half-smile on his face. It didn't feel like the smiles he'd given David the past months. Felt unsure. Fake.
"Oh. Yeah, of course," David said. He hadn't even thought about the fact that Dana leaving MQ meant Brad was leaving too. He broke out into a sweat. He didn't want him to leave. He didn't want to lose his only good excuse for seeing Brad daily. But he couldn't think about that right now, he needed to go to Poppy, he needed to save the company.
"Well, don't let me keep you from… whatever it is you're doing," Brad said.
"Right, I—I need to go see Poppy, but—can we talk, later?" David said.
"Maybe," Brad said.
"Maybe, sure. I just—fuck, I really need to go, I'm sorry," David said, head swivelling between the elevator and Brad. "I'll see you later, okay?"
"Maybe," Brad said again. He waved at David before turning around, and there was something in his hand that vaguely registered in David's mind—but he didn't have time, he just didn't have time at all to think about it. He needed Poppy.
"It all comes down to you."
Poppy stared at him. He could practically hear her brain working overtime. He understood, though, that this wasn't an easy decision. Staying with MQ, her baby, or staying with—well, the father of her actual baby. Honestly, he was still somewhat baffled that she'd gotten pregnant in the first place. And that she'd kept it. But what did he know about anything.
"David, you understand what you're asking of me?" Poppy said.
"But think about what you'll gain!" David said, giving her his best, most desperate smile. "Complete creative control over Mythic Quest! And Storm, he'll—he can always come back. It'll be fine, honestly. Besides, you've got your MQ family. We can all pitch in—"
"Who's we, in this scenario? Almost everyone has left," Poppy said.
"Well, there's—there's Carol. And. There's Anthony."
"The porn guy?"
"He's more than just a porn guy—"
"David," Poppy sighed, "Mythic Quest is dysfunctional as fuck. I want to give my baby the best upbringing I can give them. I just don't know if MQ fits in with that anymore. And Ian—"
"You don't need Ian!"
"You said that when we make stuff together, it works. You said Elysium is a masterpiece. We made that together."
"Okay, sure," David said, "but that doesn't mean you need him forever. What about that art piece you made with Storm? You know, when I got divorced—"
"Please don't compare me and Ian to you and your wife," Poppy groaned.
"My ex-wife," David said, "and just hear me out. When I got divorced, I thought I'd never find love again. I thought, that was it, that was my best shot at it, and I'd die alone. But then I did fall in love again!"
"What, with that widow? David, you realise you fucked that one up too?"
"No, I—" He'd forgotten about the widow. Strange, he realised. Not that he hadn't liked her, but she felt like such a blip on the radar now. Compared to… Well. "I mean, after that."
Poppy looked at him, aghast. "Are you talking about Brad? Are you in love with Brad? And that's supposed to be a good thing?"
David felt his face go red. "All I'm saying is, one thing ending isn't… well, the end of everything. It can be the start of something new, something good."
"Again, is Brad fucking you supposed to be good?"
"This isn't about me and Brad!"
"You started the metaphor!"
"All I'm saying is that Ian being gone doesn't have to be bad! You've got Storm, you've got me, you've got full support of the Mythic Quest team… I'm sure I can get Dana back, and I haven't fired Rachel yet, so she can stay too. And Brad—"
"Brad who you're in love with," Poppy said.
"That's irrelevant! I'm just saying, we can get the old team back together! Clean slate!"
"How is that a clean slate—"
"Poppy," David said, exasperated, "please just come back. Please. I know it's scary, working without Ian, but you were ready to move to the Netherlands too. You can do this. I know you can."
Poppy looked at the floor. Looked up at the ceiling. Ran her hand over her pregnant belly.
"Fuck. Okay," she said finally.
"Okay?" David said.
"Yeah, fuck it. I'll come back. I'll be the creative director."
David felt a huge weight drop from his shoulders. "Thank you, Poppy. Thank you so much. It'll be great, you'll see."
Poppy still didn't seem confident. "Yeah," she said softly.
"Awesome," David said, clapping his hands together. "Now that we've solved that, maybe you can help me with something else. See, me and Brad—"
"Get the fuck out of my house, David," Poppy said.
David walked back into the office with a newly-found pep in his step. As much as his situationship with Brad still plagued his thoughts, he at least had overcome some obstacles when it came to work, and would hopefully not get canned by Montreal. He had the genius Poppy Li back, after all, and perhaps he could coach the not-quite-as-genius-but-still-fairly-smart Dana back into the fold as well. Then he would only have to deal with the whole Monetization of it all. Rachel was a liability, sure, but if he could get Brad back, he could keep her in line.
Of course, that did mean he had to get Brad back. He'd have to talk to him. Which was good, they needed to talk, and he was definitely not nervous, because that'd be ridiculous. It was all gonna be fine, like he'd told Poppy. They'd work something out.
If he could find Brad, at least.
He wasn't in Dana's office, which, David noticed, was not yet cleaned out. He tried calling, but Brad didn't pick up. He tried texting, but the messages were left on unread. Maybe he had gone home, then. Problem was, David had no idea where Brad lived. They'd always met at David's house in Cerritos. Well, there was the mansion on the island, of course, but as much as David had fond memories of that house, he wasn't about to trek all the way to the island to find Brad.
Maybe he could find Brad's address somewhere in MQ's database. They had to have it on file, right? David raked a hand through his hair, suddenly feeling very exhausted at the thought of having to show up at another doorstep to beg for—for what, exactly? For Brad to profess his love for him? Like that was gonna happen. But at least he could ask Brad to end his misery and just tell him straight-up that it wasn't going to work. That he'd always just be a booty call. Maybe that was karmic justice.
Right, he'd do one more round of the office, and then he'd try to look up Brad's address, David decided. He looked in Dana's office once more, then his own (a pang of nostalgia as he looked at the space Brad had once had his desk), then Ian and Poppy's, the conference room, the bathroom… He strode past empty offices, past full offices with people he didn't want to see, past the coder's den, the mo-cap room. No Brad. He was about to give up when he remembered the Monetization office, that small room where Brad had once tried to prepare him for a date with that stupid dating simulator of his. The humiliation he had felt that day had stung, and yet he found that, looking back on it, the memory held a certain fondness too. Brad had gone through all that effort for him, after all. And then he'd actually gotten David a date. It was one of the kindest things anyone had ever done for him.
Bit sad, that. Still.
He had reached the Monetization room, pushing open the door, expecting to see no one, to have his hopes dashed once more—but there he was, his back to David, staring at the giant screens showing reams of data.
David hesitated. Now that he'd found Brad, now that he was really here, he realised he'd spontaneously forgotten everything he wanted to say. And so he just said:
"Hey."
Brad didn't turn around. "Hey," he said, still staring at the screens.
"I thought you were going to clean out Dana's office," David said.
"I am. I'm going to." He still didn't look at David.
"Why are you here, then?"
"Just thinking." He moved his hand, and David saw a flash of gold—a flash drive. He'd had it when David had headed off to Poppy too, David realised. He'd all but waved it in David's face, now that he thought about it. Odd.
"What's that?" David asked, curiosity piqued.
Finally, Brad's head turned to David, hand rising to hold up the flash drive. "It's an offer."
"An offer?"
"From Anna."
"Oh." David felt his insides turn cold. So he had been in contact with Anna still. "What kind of offer?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
Brad was quiet for a moment, his gaze avoiding David's. "I've been sleeping with her."
"Okay," David said, throat dry. "Since when?"
"Since the Apex Awards."
"Right." David did the mental math. "So after we slept together on the island?"
"Yeah." Brad's tone was flat, didn't betray a hint of emotion.
"And you were sleeping with her after that, while you were sleeping with me?"
"Yes."
"Christ. Okay." David sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose. This was… Well, not entirely unexpected. Didn't mean it didn't make his heart feel like it had been stabbed several times, though. Part of him wanted to cry, part of him wanted to run away, part of him wanted to take Ian's advice and cut Brad out of his life forever. What good was it, to attach himself to such a person? Someone who could lie to him like that, for months, without ever breaking a sweat? He was better off without him.
He just didn't want to be without him.
"What's the offer, then?" he asked Brad. "To marry her?"
Brad let out a soft laugh. "No."
"What then?"
"To run away with her."
"What's the difference?"
"The difference," Brad said, twirling the flash drive between his fingers, "is that I'll be easier to get rid of eventually. Because she would. Eventually."
David stared at Brad. "Are you saying she'd kill you?"
"What?" Brad's nose scrunched up in confusion. "No. Jesus, she's not a murderer, David."
"Well, I don't know! I barely know anything about her!" David protested.
"I just meant she'd dump me, take all my money, probably. She doesn't really care about me. She never has. I'm just a means to an end."
"Okay," David said, getting slightly exasperated by the vagueness of it all, "so, what? What end are we talking about?"
Brad shrugged. "The usual. Money. Power. Sex."
"Why sleep with her, then?"
A pause. Brad shifted his jaw. "I don't know. I guess… I thought maybe she'd changed. Or I thought I could change her. Or maybe I wanted her to change me back."
"Back to what?"
"You know. Me. The corporate leech. The soulless money-suck. Before…" He waved his hand around. "…Before all this. Before you."
"Brad," David said slowly, "I've had a very exhausting day. Can you talk like a normal person and just explain to me, in clear language, what the fuck you're trying to say?"
Brad took a deep breath. "I'm trying to say I'm in love with you."
There was a long silence.
And then, before David had fully processed what was happening, Brad threw the flash drive in the trash, cupped David's face and kissed him.
It was like being kissed for the very first time all over again. It was gentle and soft and hesitant, all the things Brad usually wasn't. It was amazing. It was overwhelming. It was everything he'd ever wanted. It was—not right.
He pushed Brad away, though only a little, not quite wanting to break contact fully, his hands on Brad's chest. "Wait, wait, wait—I don't understand."
"It's pretty straightforward," Brad said.
"No, it isn't!" David said. "You said you don't do relationships."
Brad grimaced. "Now you're making me sound like Ian."
"But you said—"
"I know what I said. But—I don't know. I can try."
"You can try? You can try." David ran one hand through his hair, trying to comprehend what Brad was saying. What had just happened. "But you've been sleeping with Anna. You've been lying to me, for months, again."
"Yeah, but I won't be sleeping with her anymore. I've rejected her offer, in favour of you." Brad's tone was one of a patient teacher explaining a math problem to a particularly dense student.
"But you did sleep with her! You cheated on me!" David said, taking a step back, his own tone getting shrill.
"We weren't together, technically, and also, you've slept with her as well," Brad said.
"That's not the point!" David shrieked. "You lied to me!" Aware of how hysterical he sounded, he tried to wrangle his voice down to a lower pitch. "You keep lying to me. How can I trust you after all that?"
Brad was quiet for a moment. He seemed to contemplate the question. "David," he said finally, "did you know I've had countless job offers from other companies?"
"What?" David said, confused. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"This was mainly before my conviction, of course," Brad carried on, "but for a few years I really was a hot commodity. MQ was the most popular MMO, after all, and other companies could see how much money it was bringing in. And it was all because of me."
"Well, not all because of you—" David started, but Brad ignored him.
"Especially during COVID, I mean, the numbers we were doing… those were the golden days. I had people begging at my door. Big companies too, you know. EA. Activision. Microsoft—before they acquired Activision, of course. I could go on. And yet I stayed. Do you know why?"
"If you're about to say it was because of me—" David said, disbelieving.
Brad laughed softly. "Well, yes and no. Not just you. But you were included, I suppose, though I didn't ever give it much thought. I think I'd convinced myself I was staying just because MQ was the safe bet. Not that certain people didn't try to disabuse me of that thought." He was staring at some point behind David now, as if recalling some distant memory. He shook himself out of it. "Of course, then I went to prison, and I wasn't allowed to be the Head of Monetization anymore. So my stocks dropped, let's say."
"I still don't understand what you're trying to say," David said.
"Did you never wonder why I went back to MQ?" Brad asked.
"Because we were the only ones crazy enough to hire a felon?"
"If you think big companies like EA and Activision have a problem with criminals, you've not been paying attention. No, it had nothing to do with that. There's a myriad of ways I could've made exponentially more money than returning to MQ as a janitor. I did it, because…" Brad stopped for a second, fiddled with his hands. "Well, there were multiple reasons. But yes, one of them was you."
"Okay," David said slowly, "but you psychologically tortured me when you came back."
"That's a bit of an overstatement. It was light teasing. I didn't do much, in the end."
"Hm. I suppose. But why leave MQ for Dana, then?"
Brad shrugged. "I needed the challenge. And anyway, I knew she'd still be in MQ's grasp. I wouldn't be leaving, not really."
David was quiet for a moment, trying to absorb everything Brad had said. It still didn't make much sense to him, if he was honest.
"So what are you saying? That you were in love with me the whole time?"
"Not the whole time, but something like that."
"Something like that," David echoed. "Right. And this makes you lying to me better, how?"
"I was trying to go back to being someone I was before. I wasn't lying to you, I was lying to myself about my feelings for you. I was lying to Anna. But with you… With you it was real."
David stared at him. It felt like he was being manipulated again, like Brad was some scummy husband and David his maligned mistress who he kept promising he'd definitely for sure leave his wife for. And yet there was something in Brad's eyes, some hint of desperation, that made him second guess. What if it was real?
"You understand that I have some trouble believing this?" David said, his voice a touch shaky.
"Okay," Brad said, "but?"
"But I mean, I want to believe it, I just—" David let out a short, sharp laugh. "It's just hard, coming from you."
"I understand," Brad said. He took a step towards David, reached for his hands, and David let him take them in his. David sighed at the touch, leaning in until his forehead rested against Brad's. He closed his eyes.
"I don't know, Brad," he said softly. "I need stability. There's too much chaos in my life already. I don't know if your version of love is one I can handle."
"But you want it," Brad said, his lips brushing against David's mouth like it had so often these past months. David's body surged against Brad's, involuntarily, like it was searching for a home.
"Don't tell me what I want," David murmured, and yet he let Brad kiss him, let him deepen the kiss, their hands still clasped together.
"Let me try," Brad said between kisses, "let me try to love you."
And despite all his misgivings, despite the lies and fights and manipulations, despite the fact that he did not, could not know, whether Brad was telling the truth or not—despite all that, he would let Brad curl around him. And if he suffocated, so be it. At least it was a decent way to go. And maybe, just maybe, it would be good. Maybe there'd be happy days ahead, days spent laughing together, loving together. Maybe Brad wouldn't just try; maybe he'd succeed.
For now, there was this: two men, standing together in a room lit only by screens, their hearts beating in time with each other. And maybe that was enough.