Chapter Text
Wilbur awoke with the feeling of a pleasant weight on top of him and the sight of golden feathers.
Quackity was still sleeping peacefully in his arms. The hybrid's ear was to his chest and strands of hair had fallen into his face. Wilbur could feel that Quackity’s arms were still wrapped around his torso, but his wings were spread over both of them almost like a blanket.
It was warm, secure, and the weight of Quackity on top of him was surprisingly relaxing. It had been a while since he had been physically affectionate with someone. Before he had left, he always took notice of how Quackity would lean towards physical affection despite denying offers of it most of the time. He wouldn’t be surprised if the man was touch-starved, it would’ve partially explained what happened last night, but he wouldn’t blame Quackity for that either way. He wouldn’t mind doing this more often, it was clear the hybrid needed it, and to be honest, Wilbur knew he himself probably needed it too. He’ll have to gauge how Quackity feels about it when he wakes up, it's important that he is still comfortable.
Wilbur’s eyes were caught by Quackity’s wings that were still splayed over the two. Over the past few days, there were rarely moments where Quackity would have his back to Wilbur aside from the first day he came by, so this is the closest he’s seen them. Towards the outer edges, they looked fine, but the center of the wings looked pretty rough. How long had it been since he’d had help preening his wings? He knew there were other people Quackity was close to on the island, but had his amnesia gotten in the way of that too? If they get really bad, he might ask. He’s helped with Phil’s before, so he knows how to do it, but an avian's wings are incredibly precious, something that said avian would only let the people they trusted most touch or care for.
Wilbur tore his eyes away from the wings to try and see what time it was. It was still raining outside, but it was much darker now. As carefully as he could, he shuffled his communicator out of his pocket to check the time, and, well, he guesses he shouldn’t be too surprised that he and Quackity were sleep-deprived enough to sleep till 1:00 in the morning instead of taking a normal midday nap like anyone else. At least they had both gotten rest. Wilbur barely got much sleep anymore, much less peaceful sleep, and Quackity had such tired eyes that you could tell he was getting less than 2 hours of sleep each night. Wilbur’s thoughts were starting to ramble a bit, but they were interrupted by the weight against his chest shifting a bit.
He stilled and peered down. The man on his chest stiffened for a moment before beginning to rouse and lift his hand up to rub at his eyes, but the moment Quackity’s sight fell on Wilbur’s face in front of him, he let out a startled “Fuck!-” and promptly fell off the couch in a swarm of waving limbs and feathers.
Wilbur was stunned for a second, but couldn’t help but burst into laughter. A low groan came from the man that was now on the floor.
“What the fuck are you laughing at asshole?” Quackity asked as he began to rub his head.
“I-I’m sorry, you just looked like a startled chicken-” Wilbur got out, still laughing and almost doubled over.
Quackity began to blush with a disgruntled look on his face. “Yeah, very funny.” he said, but Wilbur could see a slight smirk forming on his face.
“I’m sorry, that just caught me off guard,” Wilbur said, his face clearly showing he was not sorry, “Did you sleep all right?” he asked after composing himself.
Quackity looked a bit startled by the question and sat himself up before answering. “Oh, um- yeah I slept okay,” he said, stumbling over his words. He paused for a moment, unsure of what to say, before looking out the window. “What time is it?”
“I just checked, it’s 1:02 now” Wilbur replied, pulling out his communicator to show the time.
Quackity’s eyes widened a bit before looking back to the window, “shit, really?” Quackity began to stand up and brush himself, “I should probably head out then,” he said while adjusting his beanie, “I’ve definitely overstayed my welcome and it’s so late-”
“Um no the fuck you aren’t dumbass” Wilbur abruptly stood up, cutting Quackity off. “First of all, I am not letting you walk home alone at 1:00 in the morning,” Wilbur stated, casually placing himself between Quackity and the door. “Plus, it’s still raining like hell out there, you can stay, Q.” Wilbur said, letting his demeanor soften.
Quackity looked unsure of how to respond. Wilbur was worried he was too stern, but then he moved his gaze to the side and mumbled, “Only if you’re okay with it.”
Wilbur let a small smile grow. “Good, now I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry so I’m going to make a grilled cheese.” He said as he turned towards the house's small kitchen, “You can go back on the couch if you want.” Reaching the stove, Wilbur began to rummage around in the cabinet next to it, looking for the right pan. Right as he grabbed a frying pan, he heard a thump behind him and quickly turned, only to find that Quackity had flopped face downwards onto the couch. Wilbur couldn’t help but chuckle at the gesture but quickly turned back to the cabinet when Quackity moved to rest his head and arms on the armrest.
Wilbur placed the pan on the stove and moved to gather ingredients. He hoped he wasn’t too harsh, he kind of panicked when Quackity thought he had to leave. Of course, he wouldn’t force him to stay if he really didn’t want to, but he knew that Quackity didn’t live in his old house anymore and was kind of worried about him get ting hurt. Although, Quackity probably could do a much better job at protecting himself than Wilbur ever could. Hell, he didn’t even have a full armor set. He’s just glad Quackity\ decided to stay.
“You know, I really don't mind you sticking around, Q.” He started, lighting the stove and placing the pan on top. “To be honest, It’s been kind of quiet around here since I’ve got back, so I’ve appreciated your company.” He heard a bit of shuffling from the couch
“Oh, well I’m glad it's just- after last night I felt kind of bad. I’m sorry about that by the way, I shouldn’t have acted like that.”
Wilbur frowned, but decided to keep his attention on cooking, placing the ingredients in the pan, “Why are you apologizing? You didn’t do anything wrong, I meant it when I said you could come to me for a hug or anything, Q.”
“But I literally cried all over you and then passed out on top of you!”
“And I told you it's all right to cry,” he said, trying to keep his voice level.
“Yes- but I keep putting all of this stuff on you, you shouldn't have to deal with all of my issues, especially when I feel like I’ve barely done anything for you.”
“Quackity, would you be upset with me if I started crying?”
There was barely a moment of hesitation before the man behind him spoke, “Of course not.”
“Then it goes the same for you.”
Wilbur was met with silence and let out a huff, “Look, I’ll be honest, I wasn’t doing much after I came back, but hanging out with you has been- nice. You may think you haven’t been doing anything, but I’ve liked having someone to chat with, someone to do things with,” He said, trying his best to stay focused on not burning the food as he rambled.
He heard Quackity stand up and abruptly turned to look at him, “Well, then I’ll do my best to be there for you." Wilbur expected him to at least look distressed from the conversation, but all he saw in Quackity's eyes in that moment was determination, as if he had made a decision.
Wilbur smiled. “Thank you, I really appreciate that.”
A more comfortable silence settled over the two as Wilbur continued to cook.
As Wilbur finished the first sandwich, he heard shuffling beside him and turned to see that Quackity had hoisted himself up onto the kitchen counter beside him and had an innocent smile plastered on his face. Wilbur quirked an eyebrow but couldn’t contain his smile, “What do you think you’re doing?”
Quackity crossed his arms, “I’m being good company, you’re the one who said you like to have me around, so that’s what I’m doing.” he said, beginning to idly kick his feet.
“That’s dangerous though,” Wilbur replied.
“I’m far enough away from the stove, I’ll be fine.”
“Fine, but if you get burned at all then don’t blame me.”
“I’ll just dodge it.”
“Bruh, what? The heat?”
The two sat in a comfortable silence, occasionally exchanging comments, as Wilbur made the second sandwich, the sizzling of the pan and the smell of butter somewhat soothing. “Y’know,” Wilbur began, “I was planning on going to Philza’s tomorrow- or I guess later today,” he explained, pulling out a plate, “He was going to explain some of the stuff that happened while I was gone, but if you wanted to come with me, I’m sure he’d be willing to explain stuff to you as well if you’d like.” Wilbur slid the sandwich onto the plate in a smooth motion before placing it on the counter, “He's also practically the island’s photographer, if you ever wanted to see photos of things maybe to help your memory, he would be the best person to go to.”
“Oh, sure, if he’s okay with it. I’ve seen him around a bit.” Quackity said as Wilbur placed the pan in the sink. He began to walk to the table, but noticed that Quackity didn’t move to get off the counter.
“Are you going to eat with me at the table or stay on your perch?” Wilbur asked, a small smirk on his face.
“I think I like the idea of eating here more, I’m already comfy,” Quackity stated before smugly taking a bite out of his sandwich.
“Why do you like sitting on the counter so much all of a sudden?”
“Maybe I like being taller than you.”
“You’re barely taller right now.”
“But I’m tall enough.”
“And what if I also sit on the counter?”
“Don’t you dare.”
The both of them might have gotten pushed off the counters 1 or 2 times, but thankfully neither was hurt and the grilled cheeses were spared.
It was almost 3:00 by the time the two had both settled down. Wilbur might’ve forgotten the time if the effects of his shitty sleep schedule didn’t start to hit him. While the nap was the longest amount of sleep he had in a while, the rickety couch left several aches in his back and a crick in his neck, so he was eager to sleep in an actual bed.
“I don’t know about you, but I personally would like to sleep in an actual bed for the rest of the night so I don’t end up with a back like Philza’s,” Wilbur stated as he put his hand on the ladder, beginning to climb upstairs.
He heard Quackity chuckle a bit, “Well I hope you sleep well then.”
Wilbur stopped for a moment and turned his direction back to Quackity despite being halfway up the ladder. The man was holding a pillow and facing the couch. “What are you doing?” Wilbur asked.
Quackity startled a bit and turned back towards Wilbur, looking a bit confused, “Um, getting ready to go back to sleep?” he replied.
“On the couch?”
“Where else would I sleep?” Quackity said with a small chuckle.
Oh
Maybe it was the fact that it was 3:00 AM, but it didn't occur to Wilbur that it might not be typical to offer to let your guest sleep in the same bed as you. But what the hell, his bed is huge, and he knows Quackity most likely won't get much sleep on the couch.
"That couch is practically falling apart, if you even manage to sleep you'll wake up feeling terrible."
“What, am I going to sleep in your bed?” Quackity said almost jokingly.
Wilbur ignored the slight warmth that came to his face. "If you're okay with it, I actually used to sleep on that sofa, but Tallulah told Phil about that so they both forced a huge bed on me, there's plenty of room for both of us."
The somewhat serious answer seemingly took Quackity off guard, but it didn't take him long to answer, “If you’re really okay with that, then I guess I’m okay with that too.”
Wilbur felt the tension drain from his shoulders, “Good, now hurry up and get up here, I swear the house is getting colder.”
It didn't take him long to finish climbing the ladder, and Quackity wasn't far behind him. Wilbur took the time to assess the bed and gather a few more blankets from a chest. There were already a couple of pillows and two blankets on the bed, but more couldn't hurt.
He settled himself under the newly acquired blankets as quickly as possible, and thankfully, it didn't take long for Quackity to flop down onto the other side of the bed. Wilbur couldn't hide his small smile when the hybrid's wings fluttered as he landed face-down in a pillow, but he quickly turned to obscure it when said hybrid moved to prop his head up. His eyes moved to the ceiling as he tried not to think about how much his daughter would tease him about this situation. Oh he would never hear the end of it, and he's sure Tallulah would tell Phil as well. It was a bittersweet thought, yet it still made him smile softly.
She'll come back, she has to. And he bets she'll be happy to see Quackity doing better when she does return. Wilbur does his best to ignore the thoughts that don't allow him to say the same for himself, or worse, the thought that she won't get to see either of them again at all. He tried to redirect his attention to the current situation. Those thoughts were an issue for another time. All Wilbur wanted to do right now was curl up under the blankets and sleep to the sound of the storm outside. He almost forgot about the hybrid that was already close to dozing off right beside him.
"Goodnight, let me know if you need anything okay?"
"Okay, goodnight Wilbur, and, thank you again, for everything."
"No problem, Q."
If Wilbur woke up wrapped in warm arms and golden feathers, he didn't mention it.