#spinmaster quinn

The memory of him, Damien, Joseph and Hugo at the museum was still very present. He was a changed man after that: he finally understood art after many years of his relatively long but actually short life. Everything, everything, in art - and it didn't matter from where and when a piece was - revolved around butts. That's how it was. That's how it should have been. Amen to butts, one of Mother Nature's most lovely creations.

"Lacking artistic vision? Moi? That's it, cruel world. I'm ready to go." Hector hurriedly touched his throat as if he was suffocating, one hand still on his chest to stop the imaginary bleeding. Robert went back to smooth the surface of his, ehm, anatomically bizarre work.

"There has to be someone funnier than the other between us, and I happen to know who is who." Robert didn't bat an eye, apparently focused on his project.  

"Hghkk... Robert, I'm dying." The other man exhaled hard through his nose, annoyed by the distraction from his masterpiece. He was trying to create a vein with a stick for the fourth time in ten minutes. Hector stopped his theatrics then and rolled his eyes, bored by the minimal reaction. He blew a lock of curly hair away from his face, his own hands covered in green clay.

They both had stains here and there because they kept trying to make the other fuck up. Hector had to completely start again whatever he was trying to do at least three times, Robert just two. That vein not coming out right had absolutely nothing to do with Hector.

"I don't find clowns funny" was his calm reply, a second later. Hector gasped, pretending to be hurt.

"You bitch!" he whispered, getting closer to Robert with an exaggerated angry face. 

When Robert eventually appeared to give him attention, he stuck his tongue out at him and went back to his work with a raised chin.

"You don't deserve me. I'm gonna stop talking to you."

"Thank God, finally. Another word and I was going to toss this at you", joked Robert, showing the enormous dick of clay he had been working on the whole time. Hector laughed at the vision, though when the handsome older man went to fake-throw the thing, Hector almost fell out of his chair, attempting to dodge it. At that vision, it was Robert's turn to laugh, trying to hit a giggling Hector with his clay dick. 

He, Mary and Robert had become a good trio with time, they always met for drinks essentially every weekend. Sometimes one of the other dads was invited too, but it was mostly the three of them. Mind you, Hector had some veeeery embarrassing moments he’d like to bury in the back of his mind, but with the two he also created some of the best memories in his life.

Yet, this week Mary and Joseph were out of town visiting her parents with their children.

For the first time in a while, it would have been just Hector and Robert. 

When Hector heard the news, his heart skipped a few beats. It felt nice, knowing it was just the two of them for once. Really nice. And also extremely fucking stressful.

There was no need to make things weird, right? It wasn’t even the first time they hung out alone. Deep breaths, no touching, and acting like an adult would have done the trick. He was awkard already on his own, no need to overthink it and make things worse for the both of them.

So, Hector tried his best to search for something relaxing or at least, um, not too weird? 

Hector had found the course by accident, wasting precious time of his life that would've never come back - basically, he was scrolling on the internet - when puff! There was this small announcement on the online news of their town: it was a sculpting class that, coincidently, started on their usual 'drinking' night. It could have been fun, different from their typical nights at the bar, especially considering that Robert had stopped drinking months ago anyways. 

He proposed the idea, already waiting for a no, when Robert pleasantly surprised him. Hector half suspected it was because they had more than enough time to hunt cryptids later since the class wouldn't have ended too late.

And there they were now, fighting like kids who happened to be waaayyy too old.

When Robert shoved the gigantic clay dick near his face again, Hector, laughing hysterically, grabbed the upper half and attempted to move it away. Robert, grinning like an idiot, tried to make him lose his grip by pulling that monstrosity towards him holding the lower half. With the poor thing being pushed hard in two different directions, the dick tore in the middle, and both the men fell out of their seats. Two very explosive laughs echoed around the big room, capturing everyone's attention.

Hector was the first to be back on his feet, while Robert sat up, still holding the rest of his creation.  The curly-haired man fixed the glasses on his nose and went to help the bearded man with a smile.

Hector was pretty sure he had a dick-shaped spot of clay on the back of his t-shirt. He held his hand out to help Robert get up, but a mischievous grin suspiciously appeared on the older man's face. He suddenly pulled his wrist, testing his balance, trying to make him tumble. Hector miraculously resisted.

"Hah!" exulted Hector, actually helping a chuckling Robert to stand on his feet now.

He had already fallen for Robert, it was unnecessary to fall on him too.

When Robert's deep brown eyes were finally on his same level, if not a bit higher, they met Hector's gaze with an amused warmth. Robert was still smiling and the younger man couldn't help but reciprocate with enthusiasm. 

Everything was warmer with Robert. From the rays of the sun to the heat in his cheekbones when he looked at him a second too much, or even to whatever charge of electricity he could feel buzzing in his fingertips when they happened to be so close that their hands could touch; not to mention the boiling liquid in his chest when Robert allowed himself to show how tired he was, and how vulnerable, delicate and hard his new approach to his mental health and addiction was to maintain.

Those were times when he told Hector stories about his life, his daughter, and (very rarely) even his wife. Hector, in exchange, confessed his own struggles, his fight against depression, and his social anxiety. He offered comfort in grieving those who they had both lost and reassurance about how good he was doing.  

They also shared the good parts, the happy memories. They revealed themselves to the other, piece by piece.

Hector was simply honoured that Robert had learned to trust him so much. Sure, he still tried to sneak in some bullshit one way or another, but by now he had learned to call his bluffs.

They had learnt to know each other and, at this point, they seemed to be joined at the hips. There was a special bond between them, one Hector would have treasured with his whole being. 

It didn't matter that he had to fight the urge, always more often, to kiss him senselessly. Hector made a promise that day, and he intended to respect it, even 'til his last dying breath.

Okay, maybe that was a bit dramatic, but yeah, he had a lot of patience and didn't make promises lightly, so...

Besides, things were great. Hector was genuinely proud of how far Robert had come. He'd been there on some of Robert's most difficult nights, and seeing him like that made him even prouder of how he was now.

Still looking at him, Hector noticed how much more relaxed he appeared. There weren't those deep, dark circles anymore, his eyes shined a bit more of their own light, and he was taking care of his hair and beard more. He seemed happier, too. He had a better relationship with his daughter, their monthly calls slowly turned weekly, and by now they called or texted each other almost daily.

He dared to glance down, where he met Robert's soft smile again. Hector was very satisfied with himself: he was the one who put that smile on those very, very kissable lips. Robert was happy because of him. They were a bit chapped, but Hector never gave a flying fuck about those things. As if such small detail could have stopped him from totally devouring him, body and soul, never letting him go and-- ah, for fuck's sake. Hector, stop right now. 

"Hey, you two! Are you done acting like middle schoolers? I'm talking here!" Hector jumped out of his skin, having honestly forgotten where they were. A man with a red sweatshirt and sunglasses was clearly scowling at them, even if Hector couldn't see his eyes.

"Who the fuck wears sunglasses inside?" 

"The moon probably hits too hard for him." Robert snickered at that and Hector felt like he won a prize. 

"Since you're being so active, why don't you show the class what you made?" the tutor continued, heading to their table. The problem was that after a few steps closer, he recognised the duo. Hector also had the same realization, freezing in horror.

Robert, instead, was more than ready.

"Hey, I know you! You were-"

"Listen here, dude", started Robert in a low voice, to be heard just by the two of them, "we are doing a very important job here, we are undercover. Tell people to turn their attention elsewhere immediately." The tour guide-art teacher looked around angsty at the worried tone, noticing how everyone was watching them. He gulped and cleared his voice.

"Just get back to your work y'all." Robert gave him a grateful look while Hector let out a sigh of relief, immediately on with the plan. When someone had a best friend like Robert, one had to learn how to improvise quickly. 

"Good. But now our positions might be compromised", said the older man, his face turned towards Hector, seeming tense. Hector sighed again. 

"It's not said the last word. We could still be able to continue with our plans." Robert didn't look too convinced. Hector tried to reassure him by placing a hand on his arm - and felt the muscles bulge under the leather jacket - but before he could speak, the third man lowered his head, whispering his worries so fast that he almost resulted uncomprehensible.

"Is everything alright? Am I in danger? Should I end the class now? I don't want to die this way! Wait, no, maybe I do. Do I? Am I s-" Robert quietly shushed him, stopping his bumbling. The tour guide, poor soul, practically smelled of anxiety. He squeezed himself into his old sweatshirt with a shiver.

"First, you need to stay calm. You are the one in charge here. If you are nervous, people will detect it, and you might create more trouble." The other man nodded, his shoulders still too tense

“Yeah dude, be the alpha we know you are” added Hector, feeling bad for the guy.  At the words, the man in sunglasses straightened his back, with a bit more confidence. Robert kicked him under the table, Hector hit him back with a moan of pain.

"It would be better if you stayed away from us", Hector said again, without getting hit in the process.

"Second, we just need you to keep doing what you are doing. Watch the others, tell people what they should be doing and how to do it, stuff like that." The art teacher-tour guide... didn't he also work as a quiz host? seemed a bit unsure of himself, though he nodded again.

"We are trying to monitor the whole room, it's not as easy as it looks. It would be a huge help if no one disturbs either of us. Subtly. We don't need to get attention." What was his name? Quinn? He listened attentively to his words before hugging himself.

“But, uh, why are you here? What is your mission?” Robert clicked his tongue at that. Hector rested his forearms on the workbench, in a conspiratory tone.

“We can’t reveal anything, it’s for your own good” murmured the curly-haired man, tucking a curl behind his ear and staining his cheekbone green.

“B-but I’m the alpha, I need to know if-”

“All you need to know”, interrupted Robert, rolling his eyes, “is that you shouldn’t play too much with this material.” A flash of pure panic crossed the teacher’s face.

“We have been testing it the whole time, it’s very bizarre” revealed his partner in crime.

“I-I have no idea where this is from, it was already here! I-” Hector gently gestured for him to lower his voice.

“Just pretend nothing is happening, we’ll take care of the rest” ordered Robert, with a spooky look in his eyes, one of a man who was ready to go on a battle. Hector loved this type of theatrics.

"I'll do my best to let you go under the radar." He was going to say something else, probably wondering if to give them an earful since they probably were the loudest angle in the room. Hector was aware of that, at least. He couldn't see his eyes, he was still wearing sunglasses (why? Just why?), but the frown he was reading on his face didn't please either of the fake-ass-ghost-hunters.

"If you see us behaving like idiots..." began the younger idiot in question, "... just know that it's part of the plan. We can't act like we are constantly studying people, it'd be too suspicious", ended Robert, throwing a glance at the man on his side. Hector immediately caught it.

"Obviously. Duh." Their tutor for the night smacked his hand on his forehead at their words. He bit his lip, unsure, and lowered his head.

"I, uh, would thank you but... ehm, I forgot your names..." he admitted shyly, shoving his hands in his pocket, his black lens shining under the white lights.

"You have forgotten them?" Hector asked, sounding truly hurt. 

"You know what? Maybe it's better this way" intervened Robert, apparently trying to console Hector. 

"Tell people you don't know us and we've never met", commanded Robert gravely, a serious look on his face. The teacher threw them a glance from over his glasses. He opened his mouth, thought better of it, then simply turned around and left, going back to his station. 

Hector bit his lip, trying not to laugh. He elbowed Robert gently.

"What even was my name that night?"

"Fuck me if I could remember", Robert simply stated, immediately working to create a new dick, even bigger than the one he previously made. Hector looked sympathetically at the cute, little panda he had shaped.

I'm gonna call it Po.

It didn't take much more time for the class to end. Hector gave Po to Robert as gift a few minutes later, already knowing the poor guy would get lost in the woods. He liked it though, and that was enough.

Surprisingly, it wasn't Po the one they had to let go, but Greenzilla (the name Robert chose for his mastodontic work), when Hector, a proud coward, took it to protect them from God knows what. 

He had to make the rational choice of throwing it at something hiding in the trees. Because there was something in the trees, right? Right, Robert?

They both started running back to the car, scared shitless, and cracked up from the adrenaline rush once on the road.

Sure, Hector had to listen to Robert scolding him when things calmed down - he had spent so much time on Greenzilla, and now he was just gone. They had a moment of silence, to commemorate the friend they failed so soon - but it was worth it. The whole night had been worth it.

And for Robert? He'd have thrown as many gigantic dicks as needed, if not more.