Archive of Our Own ^beta

“You moved on, right?”

Fit stared at the deep brown eyes that observed him with caution. The sunset bathed his surroundings in an orange light, making everything feel a little ethereal.

He couldn’t believe the sight in front of him, the fact that Pac was actually there. He took in his appearance, the black and blue outfit, a yellow pac man symbol in his chest. His hair was partially covered by a blue hood that merged into a scarf that covered his mouth and cheeks. The Brazilian looked so different, elusive, but his voice was the same Fit heard every night in his dreams.

He was so lost in the view for a second that when his brain finally processed what Pac said, his eyes grew bigger just thinking about the possibility of ever getting over that man.

“No, Pac”, the American answered, hoping that his voice could convey every ounce of emotion he was feeling, how ridiculous that statement sounded in his head. 

He locked eyes with the black haired man, admiring the way they shined with the reflection of the sun, remembering the first time Pac asked that question.

— ⇹ —

“You will move on someday, right?” Pac said, laughing a little.

It was late in the night, an unusual time for both men to be awake. They were on his rooftop, the moon high in the sky, casting a light glow in the garden and providing a gentle cold breeze. The few yellow lamps made the place comfortable, the smell of different flowers helping them relax.

Fit turned to face the man next to him, the Brazilian seated by the edge of the roof, shaking his legs lazily as he rested with both hands on the grass.

“What?” He asked, laughing at the absurd his boyfriend was implying.

Both men, although proud members of morning crew, were having a hard time sleeping lately. Fit’s deadline was so close, and while they tried to continue living normally, both could recognize the unease expression on their faces all the time. They were waking up later and barely seeing each other, busy with their tasks that took longer to finish due to their tired minds.

So when Fit woke up from a nightmare and saw Pac’s name on Chumelabs, he decided to send him a message. If they were going to be awake, might as well enjoy some time together.

His boyfriend teleported to his house, they made some tea and found themselves outside, talking about everything and nothing, their past and people they met, when Pac made that comment.

“You know, Fit. Someday you will meet someone better than me and move on, I’m sure.”

Fit fixed his posture a little, not understanding where these comments were coming from.

“Pac, what the fuck are you talking about?”

He saw Pac’s expression change, almost like he had just realized what he was saying. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding, it’s all jokes.” He smiled.

“Are you sure?” Fit raised an eyebrow, knowing his boyfriend was hiding something.

“Yes, I was just being silly, Fit, don’t worry.” Pac said, the faint smile on his lips never reaching his eyes.

“Pac…” Fit said softly, reaching for his hand instinctively. When their hands touched, the American realized what he had done, chills running down his spine. Every bit of skin that touched the man by his side seemed to be on fire, almost like he could feel little sparks appearing from the contact. 

It was ridiculous, how Fit felt like a teenager everytime they took a step, even when it came to little things like this. He observed as Pac adjusted, wide eyes looking to their now intertwined hands. Fit knew that the Brazilian was letting him decide the pace of their relationship, knew how patient the man was, how surprised and happy he was each time he found the courage to do something new, and he loved him for it.

Usually, he would find courage in situations like this. The worried expression that Pac tried so hard to hide almost gave Fit physical pain and he would do anything to stop it. So after that initial shock, he took his hand more firmly, making little circles with his thumb on the man’s knuckles, looking at him with the most compassion and love he could.

“What makes you say that?”

“It’s stupid, don’t worry” Pac responded, trying to take his hand back, but Fit did not let go.

“No, it’s not. If something is bothering you I want to know.”

The dark haired man sighed heavily, looking into the distance. Fit waited, keeping the reassuring strokes on his hand as his boyfriend collected his thoughts.

“You know, I’ve been thinking a lot. Your deadline is coming up, and I know you said that you were not leaving, that you would come back and stay on the island, but sometimes I think that you won’t.” He said rapidly, like he was taking a weight off his shoulders.

“Pac…” Fit tried to interrupt, but Pac raised his hand, looking at him and silently asking to finish speaking.

“I have a hard time feeling like I’m worthy of all you do for me. And I’m always scared that when you leave to see your boss you will realize that there is so much more outside of Quesadilla. Even if you stay here, new people can always show up and… I don’t know. I’m just scared that I’m not enough.” Pac sighed again, leaning to lay on the grass completely but never letting go of Fit’s hand.

“I feel like I’m always second best, you know? Like, I’m not Richas best parent, and Mike is way better than me at creating and building things, and there are so many people better at fighting than I am. I just can’t see anything that makes me stand out and make people want to stay, so, logically, when you see someone that is better, cause you will, you will leave. And that’s okay, I would not blame you. I just wish I knew when it will happen, to be prepared.”

Fit took a deep breath, shocked with the sincerity of the Pac’s speech. He laid down next to him and tapped on his shoulder, making the Brazilian turn to look in his eyes.

“Pac, I can’t believe you would actually think that. You are so, so important to me.” Fit tightened the hold on his boyfriend's hand, wanting to somehow transfer all the love he felt without words. “You and Ramon are the most important things in my life and I would never trade you. No one in my life has ever made me feel the way you do, Pac. You are so kind to our kids, and you show up for them constantly. You are an amazing builder, and such a strong fighter. But more than that, you keep going so hopefully even when things are hard. When the kids were kidnapped, during purgatory, when Mike disappeared, after taking the happy pills, when I told you about my mission… you always find a way to keep going and you never lose your kindness.”

As Fit saw the little tears running down Pac’s cheek, he raised his free hand to wipe them away and took one more deep breath as he kept his hand there, cupping his face and tracing his jawline, in a delicate, almost scared, touch.

“You are way better than I am. My time in the wastelands made me bitter, I lost hope. You, on the other hand, went through so much and is still the most caring, patient person I could ask for. And you teach me how to be better every single day. I should be the one scared of losing you.” Fit made sure to look deep in Pac’s eyes, his voice trembling as he poured his heart out.

He watched as Pac reached for his cheek, tracing the scars on his face. They stayed there, admiring each other in a loud, but comfortable, silence. Fit wanted to kiss him so bad. Wanted to prove with actions how everything he said was true. But he was not ready yet. “We took big steps today already.” He taught, praying that he was enough. “He knows me. He understands. I’m sure he does”

Slowly, the American pulled his boyfriend in a hug, feeling his face on the crook of his neck and his shirt slowly getting wet with tears. He embraced the Brazilian, caressing his head and detangling his messy black and dark blue hair, hoping it would take away his suffering. Hoping it could say all he wasn’t brave enough to verbalize.

“Do you promise you won’t leave?” He barely heard the whisper, only being sure Pac said it because of the tingling sensation Pac’s breath left in his neck.

“I promise. While I’m alive, I’ll keep fighting to stay by your side.”

“You won’t move on?”

 — ⇹ —

“No, Pac.”

The idea of moving on was ridiculous that night, and it still was today, months later.

Fit did not know who told Pac about Sausage, but it was impossible to compare both men. What Fit said that night was still true: no one in his life made him feel things like Pac did. Honestly, if he asked anybody on the Realm, the Brazilian would quickly realize the complete mess the war veteran was without him.

Fit could hear from afar his friends yelling and knew he couldn’t stay much longer. Seeing the red tag on Pac’s arm, knowing very well they were on different teams and sooner or later would have to compete against each other left a sour and familiar taste in his mouth that he hated.

As the orange started to fade with the end of the sunset, the moon shone behind Pac, bathing him in a cool light that left Fit thinking he was seeing a god. He inhaled sharply, feeling that somehow his beloved also remembered that same night and knew how he felt.

He prayed for any goddesses listening that his few words and the look on his face was enough. Prayed that Pac understood that decades could pass and his heart would still race at the glimpse of him. That imagining anyone taking his place made him want to throw up.

“I- I should go. I need to get back-” Pac said, stammering.

“Wait! Bring it in.” Fit said, pushing him into a tight hug. 

After a second of confusion, Pac laughed a little as he reciprocated the hug. Fit still found it unbelievable how Pac’s body seemed to be made perfectly for his embrace.

“Tamo junto, Fitch.” Pac said with a smirk as they parted.

But when Fit stared at those dark brown eyes one more time, even more on display with Pac’s face half covered, all he could think about was how he wanted to drown in that darkness. He could not wait anymore. He waited for too long, so long that he lost his chance. He did not know when he would see the Brazilian again, and he wanted to experience the real thing, not dream about it just to wake up regretting all the chances he declined.

So when Pac started to back away, Fit used all his courage to keep an arm on the black haired man's waist and keep him close. Quickly, he used his other hand to reach the blue scarf covering the man’s lips, pushing it down. He saw the most beautiful shade of pink in his cheeks, some freckles making the prettiest constellations in the universe. 

Fit only had time to see Pac’s eyes widen before finally closing the space between them, feeling soft lips on his. He took his hand off the scarf, tracing Pac’s jaw as he felt the man ease on his touch, a content sigh escaping him and spreading goosebumps through Fit’s whole body.

He deepened the kiss, wanting to make sure Pac remembered this, wanting him to never doubt his loyalty to him ever again, finally using actions to convey all he wanted to say not only today, but for the past years if he was honest. 

The kiss lasted a few seconds, but for Fit it was like time had stopped completely. He pulled back quickly, feeling his whole body on fire as Pac opened his eyes, the light pink shade on his cheeks turning a deep red as he smiled with a questioning look on his face.

“What- what was that?” Fit said, already walking backwards, laughing a little as he tried to maintain eye contact and ignore the butterflies in his stomach. 

“Fitch!” Pac said, smirking and shaking his head, his eyes finally with the glow Fit remembered and loved. “What- I don’t know.”

“That was crazy! I don’t know, I had something caught in my throat”

“Yeah- we should be going, right? 

“Yeah, yeah.” He started to turn, unable to hide the lovesick smile on his face. “Tchau, tchau!”

“Tchau, Fitch” He heard Pac laugh a little, turning and seeing the man covering his face again and walking back to his base.

He hoped Pac understood now. He tried for months, and he would keep trying for the rest of his life to make him understand that he would never move on. How could he?