Hello! Welcome to my TNTduo/Quackbur story, "A Bar Song". I might not update this frequently because I have an ongoing story, but I hope you enjoy it!

(P.S. I worked sort of hard on the description so if you didn't read it and feel like reading it, go ahead and check it out :P)

The bar was a small place and was mostly filled by a large stage in the back. Alex, or, Quackity as he went by, was sitting in a stool at the bar, his face propped up on his palm. Being out of the house was nice.

His boyfriend was not nice. Not that anyone cared to listen to him, he was just a poor drug dealer after all, but Schlatt was the worst of the worst. Alcoholic, rich, and the type to not give a shit about anyone other than himself.

And abusive.

Quackity sighed, crossing his arms across his chest. He couldn't do shit about his awful predicament. One time, he'd tried to leave. Schlatt had laughed in his face, saying things like, Where are you going to go? And I'm the only person who will ever love you. Remember that.

He was right, right about everything. And as much as Quackity tried to shake the thought, it stuck with him since that day ten months ago.

Sighing again, he sipped at his drink. The taste of alcohol wasn't comforting, but he didn't feel like being sober for tonight.

He didn't know how much time passed, but the sun had set when he looked up. The bar was becoming slowly more populated, although the stage remained empty.

Schlatt had been a dream when they'd first met. He seemed almost perfect for him, loud, funny, with a penchant for drinking.

Within the first year of their relationship, however, Schlatt had pretty much entirely changed. He'd started drinking more and smiling less, and that quickly turned him into a grumpy, never-sober man who had nothing better to do than abuse his poor, sad little boyfriend.

(That was Quackity; Quackity was the boyfriend.)

He should have known trusting Schlatt and moving away would only end in disaster. But now he was stuck here in England with a minimal amount of money and Schlatt's house as the only place he could go.

The stars came out in the sky and the strum of a guitar string could be heard from the stage.

At first, Quackity thought he might be hearing things. But one chord turned into two, turned into four, and Quackity couldn't help but turn towards the stage.

He blinked.

Sitting on a stool on the stage, playing a smooth, acoustic guitar, was a tall brunet.

His eyes were focused down on the guitar, but Quackity could see that they were steel gray and full of passion.

Imagine having passion. Couldn't be Quackity.

He was wearing a medallion yellow sweater that he matched with a burgundy beanie, and his fluffy hair was falling over his eyes slightly. 

"Wasting your time

You're wasting mine"

Quackity tilted his head at the voice. it sounded... Really nice. Very accented too.

"I hate to see you leaving

A fate worse than dying"

A few more people in the bar had turned to look at the man as well, but most of them turned back to their drinks or resumed their conversations.

Quackity was thankful for the background music, especially since it was coming from a dashing singer.

"Your city gave me asthma

So that's why I'm fucking leaving"

He sounded like he enjoyed singing, even if the lyrics were a bit... down.

"And your water gave me cancer

And the pavement hurt my feelings"

Quackity started unconsciously nodding to the beat. He stared down at his drink as the lyrics poured into his ear and jumbled in his brain and sounded all wrong.

Maybe it was the alcohol kicking in.

Or maybe he was just too focused on the man playing the guitar. 

He hadn't noticed he'd turned back around to watch until he blinked, turning red in the process.

The steel gray eyes lifted and met his brown ones for a moment – Just one moment.

Then they returned down to the guitar. Quackity could have sworn he saw the faintest hint of a smile on the performer's face.

Probably just the alcohol kicking in.

Quackity turned back around, hand gripping the counter.

He'd never cheated on Schlatt. He'd hardly thought about it. After all, there wasn't really anyone for him to cheat with, was there?

There still wasn't.

Not the handsome brunet playing guitar on a bar stage.

He'd never thought like this before; never considered being unfaithful.

Definitely just the alcohol kicking in.

Quackity didn't need to be faithful.

Schlatt wouldn't ever find out, would he?

An image of Schlatt looming over him popped into his head. I know everything you do. You can't hide anything from me, ducky.

Quackity shivered and kept his head down.

The alcohol had lost all its appeal by then, sitting morosely on the worn counter.

Quackity stood and moved to the door of the bar, hearing the music stop abruptly. He pushed open the door and stepped outside, thankful for the cool, clean air. Well, as clean as it could be. 

He stepped to the side, looking up at the stars for a minute.

He didn't want to go back to the house.

The door to the bar opened and a slightly frazzled looking musician — the musician — stepped out, looking around.

He spotted Quackity and gave a sheepish grin. "Hey,"

Quackity glanced at him, slightly confused. "...Hey?"

The musucian flashed another nervous smile. "I'm, uh, I'm Wilbur.

Quackity managed a tense smile. "I go by Quackity."

"Oh, that's a cool nickname," Wilbur said. "Hey, uh, you got something right here-" And he touched the spot in Quackity's hait, right under his beanie. Quackity felt something pressing and reached his hand up.

"Uh, sorry, gotta go," Wilbur said, dashing back inside.

Quackity grabbed the thing. What a weird occurrence...

But he almost forgot about Wilbur's odd behavior when he noticed the item. It was a rolled up piece of paper that was definitely not there before.

He bit his tongue, unrolling it.

It was a hastily scrawled phone number with a note next to it saying Call me :) in messy handwriting.

Well.

That was not how he'd expected his night to go.