Chapter Text
“So, let me see if I’ve got this straight.” Ewron tilted his head. “You went to one banquet in the North with Graf, and now Quackity…” he paused and glanced meaningfully between Graf and Nexe, before looking back at Multi. “The Prince of the North,” he emphasized deliberately, “is coming to visit our humble cave.”
“My reactor, to be precise,” Multi corrected.
“And you still insist it's not a date,” Graf added, shooting him an unconvinced look.
“It’s a business meeting.” The scientist sighed for what had to be the tenth time that day. “I'll show him my research so he can negotiate possible funding with his family.”
Ewron leaned against the wooden pillar with a smirk.
“Want me to do your hair?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
Multi pinched the bridge of his nose, already feeling a migraine coming. As if on cue, the sickly sweet scent of lavender and maple syrup lingering around Ewron intensified. The omega looked far too pleased with himself.
The scientist had no idea what he had done to deserve the constant exposure to people who refused to use more than ten percent of their brains.
“Just…” He exhaled slowly, giving the three of them a warning look. “Don’t say anything stupid or compromising, so he won’t-”
“So I won’t what?”
Multi spun around so quickly he was sure he had pulled something in his neck, and immediately faltered.
Quackity stood in the entrance to their base – but that wasn’t the most surprising thing.
It was what he was wearing.
For a prince, Multi had expected something at least semi-formal. Instead, Quackity showed up in an oversized hoodie, a beanie, and shorts way too casual for a business meeting.
It was… oddly surreal.
“Uh… Hello, Your-”
The words caught in the scientist’s throat.
Fuck.
He had just realized he had absolutely no idea how to address royalty. At the banquet he had never really used any title. Was it Your Highness? Simply Prince? Or-
“Quackity!” Graf greeted the avian, pulling him into a hug. “We were just talking about you.”
Multi let out a quiet sigh.
“...And your money.”
He closed his eyes and dragged a hand down his face.
Quackity chuckled.
“Of course you were.” The prince snorted as his gaze wandered around the cave. “This place looks much nicer than I remembered.”
The scientist frowned.
“You’ve been here before?”
“Briefly at the beginning,” Graf answered before the avian could. “But you were busy buried underground, building the reactor anyway.”
Quackity’s gaze returned to the scientist, lingering with curiosity.
“So the laboratory is beneath the base?”
“Correct.” Multi nodded, suddenly strangely stiff.
Being observed hadn’t bothered him much at the banquet, but with those three morons openly watching everything from the side, he couldn't help but tense.
“Actually…” He cleared his throat. “Why don’t we head there right away?”
Quackity smiled, his golden wings rustling softly behind him.
“That’s what I came here for.”
Not waiting for another unpredictable remark from his friend, he led the prince into the elevator. The heavy metal doors slid shut, sealing them inside the small cabin.
And that was when Multi’s senses caught it.
At the banquet, mixed with dozens of others, the scent had been hard to identify. Here, in this elevator, it was impossible to ignore.
Clean cotton and wildflowers.
It was subtle, and… quite pleasant.
Multi found himself taking a deeper breath before he could stop himself, letting the soft cleanliness fill his lungs.
Just then the elevator stopped, arriving at the bottom of the cave.
They passed through the decontamination in silence, and entered the main chamber.
Radioactive green glow welcomed them eerily, painting long shadows across steel. The soft hum of the reactor echoed through the cavern, low and constant.
“That’s…” Quackity stopped in his tracks, eyes taking in every pipe, monitor and reinforced wall with open fascination. “Actually impressive, wow.”
The corner of Multi’s mouth twitched upward.
“Thank you. I’m rather proud of my work.”
“I can see that.” Quackity breathed out a soft laugh. “You really are a scientist.”
“You doubted that?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Well…” The prince smiled to himself as they continued farther inside the facility. “People have a tendency to say all kinds of things to get what they want.”
“I told you.” Multi huffed quietly and unlocked the door to the lab. “I’m not a politician.”
“Right.”
For the next hour, the scientist carefully guided him through every stage of his current project – uranium samples, failed experiments, even the burnt cylinders… And to his surprise, Quackity never looked bored.
Multi was used to hearing “what the hell is that?”, “it’s not gonna work”, or “why do you even need something like that?”, and people generally losing interest after a few minutes.
The northern prince only asked another question.
So the scientist showed him more.
He opened a drawer where he kept his newest invention – something that even Nexe, Ewron or Graf didn’t know about.
“A biochip,” he explained and laid the device in his palm, a hint of pride slipping into his voice. “Once embedded beneath the skin, it will keep track of all vital signs and parameters, making diagnosing illnesses significantly faster.”
Quackity parted his lips, silently asking if he could touch it before carefully turning the prototype between his fingers. Something like a revelation flickered in his eyes.
“Besides collecting information, could it also treat the disease itself?”
Multi faltered.
“...No.”
Then his eyebrows shot up, disappearing under his headband.
“But that's actually…” He looked down at the sketches scattered over his desk and reached for a notebook, feeling sparks ignite in his veins. “That's an incredible idea.”
His pencil was already moving across the page.
“If the first version works…” he muttered under his breath, “a future model could actively regulate certain biological processes, taking care of minor symptoms, at least.”
He stopped writing and looked back at the prince.
“I hadn’t considered that.”
A pleased smile spread across Quackity’s face as he handed him back the chip.
“You know…” He leaned against the desk, his wings rustling softly. “I’m actually glad I came here today.”
The scientist blinked. That was the last thing he expected to hear.
“Are you?”
“Yeah.” The prince glanced around the laboratory, looking genuinely impressed. “Because now I know you weren’t just making empty promises at the banquet.”
Multi set down the notepad, not really sure what to do with his hands.
“And because,” Quackity continued, “I think you might be one of very few people that really care about the future.”
The low hum of the reactor echoed in the background.
“I drifted away from politics once it became just an endless arms race,” the prince admitted, tugging at the sleeves of his oversized hoodie. “Every discussion is about weapons and alliances, but it…”
“It has nothing to do with peace,” Multi finished for him.
Their eyes met.
For a split second, the scent of laundry and flowers seemed to grow stronger, oddly intense for a beta.
“For me…” Multi heard himself say, for the first time feeling this free discussing his ideals. Not a word was forced or faked. It was… refreshing. “Peace is an opportunity for growth.”
Quackity regarded him for a moment, his dark eyes holding something akin to appreciation.
“Could you prepare a new prototype of that chip the next time I visit?” he asked.
“Next time?”
“Yeah.” The prince smirked playfully, slipping his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. “Did you think I’d make a decision after just one visit?”
“Yes,” Multi answered without hesitation, though he immediately heard how ridiculous that sounded.
Quackity burst out laughing, shaking his head. His wings fluttered with every sound.
“You’re even worse at politics than I thought.”
── ⋆⋅✦⋅⋆ ──
He needed coffee.
No, he needed screws.
Maybe coffee too.
But first, screws.
How had he already used everything? He wasn’t working that much, was he?
What day was it again?
Time passed differently underground. He rarely kept track of it, but ever since Quackity’s visit, his eyes started drifting to the clock more often. He couldn’t leave the prince waiting too long if he wanted to secure the North’s support.
“Shit, I’ve used everything…” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.
With no other choice, he headed upstairs to check their shared storage. Leaning against the cold metal wall of the elevator, he let his eyes fall shut for a few seconds.
As he arrived at the top, he stepped forward without looking.
And immediately collided with someone.
“Oh! I was just-“
Quackity stumbled backwards, caught off guard by the impact.
Multi reacted instinctively, his hand wrapping around the avian’s waist, steadying him. Their bodies pressed together, almost exactly as they had during their dance at the banquet.
For a heartbeat, they stayed still.
Then the scientist quickly let go, stepping back.
“What are you doing here?” He cleared his throat, regaining composure. “The prototype isn’t ready yet.”
The prince averted his gaze, scratching the back of his neck.
“Graf invited me over, but when I arrived, he said something urgent came up and left,” he explained with an amused huff. “I have a feeling he did that on purpose.”
Multi raised an eyebrow.
“Since I was already here,” the avian continued, “I thought I could check on your work.”
“Well… it's still in progress.”
“I can see that.”
The prince’s gaze lingered on him longer than normal, making him shift slightly. The unexpected visit left him strangely lost. He didn’t want to send Quackity away, but he still had work to do.
“What was the last time you took a break?” the avian suddenly asked, still watching him carefully.
“Huh?” Multi was caught off guard. “I don’t do those.”
“Okay, that’s highly irresponsible,” Quackity scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re taking one now.”
“What? No, I don’t need-“
“If you’re tired, you might make a mistake, which could delay the project,” the prince immediately cut him off, crossing his arms over his chest. “And we wouldn’t want that, right?”
Multi stood there, dumbfounded. It sounded reasonable, but at the same time…
“You are too good at politics,” he decided to say, folding his arms.
“Well, one of us has to be.” A crooked smirk tugged at Quackity’s lips as he turned toward the exit. “Come on. You look like you could use some sunlight.”
Multi opened his mouth to protest. There were several arguments he could bring up to decline, but for some reason he didn’t use any of them.
A few minutes later, his heavy boots met with grass – soft, lush and slightly damp beneath his feet, swaying in a gentle breeze. Colorful flowers scattered across the vast meadow like a thin blanket, turning their heads toward the setting sun.
“I had no idea there was such a place nearby,” Multi murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
“You don’t go out much, do you?” Quackity snorted softly, glancing back at him. “No wonder you’re so pale.”
“I’m dedicated to my work,” he answered simply, ignoring the rush of heat that prickled his skin at the mention of his complexion.
“Even the most dedicated people need a break from time to time,” the prince said and stopped under a large maple tree overlooking the meadow.
Without a word, he lowered himself onto the grass in the shade, and looked at the scientist expectantly, patting the space beside him.
Multi hesitated.
Mindless walking around and basking in the sunlight wasn’t really on the list of his frequent activities.
And yet, something about Quackity made it hard to refuse.
Letting out a quiet sigh, he joined the avian, leaning against the tree trunk. For a while, they stayed silent.
It was strangely peaceful.
“You know,” Quackity hummed, “I still find it interesting you came to that banquet, despite not enjoying socializing that much.”
“I needed supplies for my research,” Multi said honestly, watching the sun set behind the horizon, then glancing at the prince briefly. “But I guess I was a little curious too.”
“And did it meet your expectations?” Quackity asked with a hint of amusement.
“No.” He grimaced. ”I’m never attending such party ever again.”
The prince snorted loudly.
Again – Multi had meant it seriously, not as a joke. His chest tightened slightly, making him frown at the unfamiliar sensation.
The air filled with something warm. At first, he thought it was wildflowers surrounding them, but then a hint of clean fabric dried in the sun slipped through.
As he inhaled the scent, his shoulders relaxed subconsciously, body sinking further against the maple’s trunk. For once, his mind wasn’t running through calculations and endless hypotheses.
It was quiet.
“I don’t blame you,” Quackity continued after he had ceased laughing. “These parties are such a pain in the ass.”
“Even for you?” Multi eyed the prince carefully.
“Yeah. It’s such a masquerade of appearances.”
The avian picked a small yellow flower from the grass, thumb brushing over the soft petals.
“People love to pretend. Pretend they are someone else; someone stronger, smarter, better.” He paused briefly, as if hesitating. “But you…” His eyebrows twitched as he met the scientist’s eyes. “You were honest from the beginning. It’s really rare these days.”
“What about you?” Multi couldn’t help but ask, resting his face in the palm of his hand. “Are you also pretending?”
“Sometimes.” The prince shrugged, twirling the buttercup between his fingers. “But I think it’s inevitable for people of my status.”
That made him arch a brow.
“I don't know much about royalty,” the scientist mused, narrowing his eyes, “but you don't seem like a normal one.”
Quackity blinked, and then snorted.
“Wow, what a nice compliment.” He nudged him with an elbow.
The scientist sputtered.
“I-I mean-”
“I know what you meant.”
Heat crept onto Multi’s ears.
No other words were exchanged as the sun slowly set over the meadow. And he simply sat there, enjoying the soft breeze carrying the scent of fresh laundry and wildflowers.
── ⋆⋅✦⋅⋆ ──
As the days went by, Quackity started dropping by the Polish Cave more often.
Officially, it was to monitor the project and maintain communication between Multi and the North. In practice, he was mostly just hanging around the reactor, chatting with the scientist while he worked.
At first, it was weird… Or actually it wasn’t – and maybe that was what made it weird.
The prince slipped into his routine so naturally, Multi found himself subconsciously anticipating the sound of light, skippy footsteps; the scent of laundry; the cheerful tone…
So when the door of his office opened, he turned around a bit too quickly.
And just as quickly, his enthusiasm vanished.
“Oh,” he muttered, deflating. “It’s you.”
Ewron entered the room, lifting an eyebrow.
“Wow, what a warm welcome.” He smirked crookedly. “I know you’d prefer it was Quackity, but-”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Multi frowned, his stomach twisting involuntarily.
“Oh, nothing.” Ewron offered him an overly sweet smile, the lavender in the air intensifying annoyingly. “I brought the iron plates you wanted,” he said, setting the supplies on the desk. “Also, Graf asked me to tell you there’s stew upstairs, cause you probably forgot to eat again today.”
“Touching.” Multi rolled his eyes. “I had coffee.”
“That’s not food.”
Before he could reply, his radars flickered to live, and not even a minute later, Quackity burst through the door.
“Hi guys!” He greeted them cheerfully, carrying a small box. “I’ve brought cake from today’s tea party – so boring by the way.” He scoffed under his breath. “Do you want some?”
“Unfortunately, I gotta go.” Ewron smiled apologetically and turned to exit, glanced over his shoulder with amusement. “But you guys have fun.”
After the assassin left, the two of them ended up sharing the cake on the coach in the office. It wasn’t as sweet as Multi expected, but the amount of sugar still left him a bit drowsy. Surviving only on coffee today was a terrible mistake.
One second he was listening to yet another Northern drama, and the next his eyelids started growing heavy.
He could have sworn he had closed his eyes only for a moment.
When he blinked awake again, the lights were dimmed. There was something soft beneath his temple. He shifted slightly, his cheek brushing against fabric.
The scent of clean cotton and flowers was stronger than before, but there was something different about it and-
His eyes flew open.
He was leaning against Quackity.
“Wha…” A hoarse sound escaped him as he straightened abruptly, nearly knocking their heads together.
“Oh, you’re up.” The prince rubbed one eye with the sleeve of his hoodie, stretching his neck. “I didn’t wanna wake you…” he croaked quietly, a faint pink hue adoring his cheeks. “You looked like you needed it.”
Multi barely heard him, inhaling almost instinctively. Beneath the familiar scent of sun-dried cotton lingered something cooler.
A damp breeze of autumn rain.
His own scent.
It clung faintly to Quackity's hoodie.
Something buried deep inside him stirred dangerously at the realization. His pulse quickened.
Only then he realized how little space remained between them. He could count the freckles scattered across the prince’s face.
Quackity’s gaze flickered briefly to his lips. Then back to his eyes.
Multi’s heart skipped a beat.
He must have imagined it. The remnants of sleep blurred the edges of his vision.
He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, the avian shifted away.
“I should probably get going,” he said far too quickly, suddenly less composed than usual. “S-so you can get some proper sleep.”
The scientist only nodded, not trusting his own voice that moment and walked the prince to the elevator in silence.
Even long after Quackity had left the reactor, the scent of soft cotton and flowers lingered in Multi’s hair.
── ⋆⋅✦⋅⋆ ──
After the banquet, he was certain he would never set foot in the North’s mansion again. Yet here he was, standing at the bottom of an enormous number of steps leading to the royal estate, a briefcase with the prototype inside hanging from his hand.
Tucked under his arm was a small bundle of buttercups he had absentmindedly picked from the meadow near the Polish Cave. Bringing a small gift to a meeting with potential sponsors seemed… appropriate.
He wasn’t particularly nervous. Besides, Quackity would be there mediating and…
…running down the stairs?
“Abort! Abort mission!” the prince shouted, waving both hands frantically. “The meeting’s canceled!”
He looked disheveled – hair messy, the collar of his black shirt hanging unevenly, wings slightly puffed.
“Why?” Mutli frowned. “What happened?”
Quackity stopped in front of him, catching his breath.
“Fuck… I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.” He dragged a hand through his hair and exhaled. “There was supposed to be a political marriage between the North and the Regime.”
The scientist felt his stomach sink for the faintest second.
“Who…?”
“Katie and Roier.” The prince pressed his lips into a thin line, looking away. “But this morning I received an invitation to Katie's actual wedding.” He closed his eyes briefly. “With a Federation worker.”
“What? So she didn’t know about-”
“Nobody did.” Quackity shook his head, grimacing. “The whole arrangement was kept strictly between the leaders until today.”
“Oh my fucking God.” Multi rubbed his forehead.
“Yeah…” The avian sighed. “Everything got cancelled, and now Vegeta and Ash are arguing upstairs, so-“
He suddenly paused, his gaze dropping to Multi's arm.
“Are those buttercups?”
The scientist looked down as if he'd forgotten he was holding the bouquet. Hesitating, he extended it toward the prince.
“I didn't want to come empty-handed.” He cleared his throat. “You like buttercups… right?” His lips twitched awkwardly, as he felt his ears burn. ”You can have them… if you want to.”
“Oh.” Quackity drew a sharp breath, taken aback, before accepting the flowers, cradling them against his chest. “Thank you…” A small smile bloomed across his face as he lifted them to his nose.
The scientist felt an odd warmth settle between his ribs.
The prince looked back at him, his eyes glistening softly.
“Come on.” He let out a quiet chuckle and nodded at the mansion with a grimace. “I might have accidentally started a war up there. It’s probably best if we’re not here right now.”
Multi blinked, unable to tell whether it was just his strange sense of humor or the actual truth. Unfortunately, he never got to find out, because suddenly there were warm fingers wrapping around his wrist, tugging him away from the mansion.
He didn’t protest.
As they crossed the North’s border, the avian’s fingers slipped lower, brushing ever so slightly against Multi's, before finally letting go.
Neither of them commented on it.
Multi stole a glance at the faint smile lingering on Quackity’s face.
Weeks ago, he would have never imagined spending so much time with someone outside the Polish Cave – let alone a prince.
And even though the sole purpose of their acquaintance was business, somewhere along the way, the funding had stopped being the reason Multi looked forward to Quackity's visits.
It had for quite some time.
“Oh!” The avian suddenly tilted his head toward the sky, pulling him out of his thoughts. “It’s raining!”
The pavement beneath their feet gradually darkened as large drops fell from the sky, splashing against their skin in a steady rhythm.
Quackity glanced at him, his lips curling into a grin.
“It smells like you, did you know?”
Multi nearly stepped into a puddle.
“I…” His throat suddenly felt dry. “I’ve been told.”
The prince snorted, and without another word, he broke into a run.
“Come on!” he shouted. “Hurry, or we will get drenched!”
Multi hesitated for a moment, before ultimately following after him. He couldn't remember the last time he had run simply for the sake of it. Perhaps never.
The prince darted ahead, laughing over the sound of the rain, while his golden wings dispersed droplets all around him with each flap.
Multi felt the corners of his mouth slightly lift.
By the time they reached the Polish Cave, they were, in fact, completely drenched. Water dripped from their clothes and Quackity's feathers, leaving puddles across the floor of the reactor.
“We should dry ourselves before we get sick,” the scientist suggested as a shiver ran down his spine.
“G-great idea,” the prince agreed through chattering teeth.
After they dried their hair with towels, Multi found some spare clothes in the bedroom at the back of his office that weren't lab coats, and handed them to Quackity.
A few minutes later, the door of the adjoining bathroom unlocked.
The scientist looked up and swallowed.
The prince wearing his black t-shirt and sweatpants was definitely a sight.
Multi’s eyes lingered on his frame as if wanting to engrave this vision to memory, before something else caught his attention.
Golden feathers lay scattered on the floor.
“Quackity…?”
The avian followed his gaze and his face immediately flushed.
“Oh my god.” He quickly crouched down. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t even notice. Let me clean that up-“
“Leave it.”
Quackity froze.
Multi narrowed his eyes, examining the poor state of the prince’s wings. Running in the rain left them crooked, a few feathers hung loosely, threatening to fall out any second.
They looked untidy.
“Come, sit here.” He patted the space beside him on the bed. “I will fix your feathers.”
“W-what?” Quackity squeeked, staring at him with wide eyes.
“You can’t reach every part yourself,” Multi stated, shrugging.
This shouldn’t be difficult. He just had to set the crooked feathers back into place, get rid of the broken ones, and tame the puffiness down.
“I-I…” The avian’s wings twitched involuntarily, as he looked aside. “Are you… sure?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow.
After a brief hesitation, Quackity settled gingerly on the bed with his back toward him.
Multi didn’t waste any time and reached carefully to the base of the left wing. The instant his fingertips brushed the feathers, Quackity flinched.
The entire wing shuddered.
“Did I hurt you?” The scientist immediately pulled back.
“N-no, I-” The prince’s voice wavered as he lowered his head. “They are just… a little sensitive.”
Multi hummed and tried again, slower this time.
Observing Quackity’s reactions, he combed gently through the feathers, searching for the loose ones before letting them drift onto the floor. One by one, he straightened the crooked parts, and smoothed the ruffled plumage, until it settled into place.
The repetitive movements were oddly soothing. Before he realized it, he had reached the end of the second wing.
He glanced at Quackity.
The prince had kept his head low throughout the entire process. Even from behind, Multi could see the blush creeping over his ears and neck. His shoulders remained tense, palms curled tightly into fists in his lap.
“Relax,” the scientist murmured softly, leaning slightly to look at him. “I’m almost done.”
The avian inhaled deeper and let out a sigh. Little by little, the tension melted from his shoulders.
And then Multi felt it.
The prince’s warm scent filled his nose, making his breath hitch. It wrapped around him stronger than ever before. He could almost feel the sun caressing his skin, while the meadow bloomed around.
He inhaled almost absentmindedly. The smell settled deep in his lungs, warm and impossibly calming.
But somehow…
It wasn’t enough.
Without thinking, he leaned closer. His body moved on its own, pulled by an invisible force he couldn’t name, until his nose brushed against the soft skin beneath Quackity’s ear.
His eyes fluttered shut.
“You…” He inhaled deeper, the words escaping him in a breathy whisper. “You smell like peace.”
Silence.
Quackity didn’t move. Neither did Multi. Yet something in the room shifted – the air suddenly felt much too warm.
Why couldn’t he bring himself to pull away?
Every instinct inside his body urged him to stay. To breathe the avian in. To push closer, to touch…
Before Multi realized what he was doing, his face slid lower, cheek brushing against the prince’s neck.
His own rainy scent began spilling into the air almost involuntarily, intertwining with the sun-dried cotton and wildflowers.
Quackity’s breath hitched.
A quiet, shaky sigh escaped his lips as his head tipped back slightly, exposing more of his skin.
Multi’s pulse thrummed in his ears. His fingers tightened over the covers as he buried his face deeper into the crook of the prince’s neck, nuzzling against his skin, drowning in his intoxicating scent, grazing his lips over-
Multi froze.
What the hell was happening?
What was he doing?
His eyes snapped open as he pulled back just enough to meet Quackity’s gaze.
The prince was already looking at him. His pupils were blown wide, glistening with something so unbearably raw, it made the scientist’s breath stutter.
The bedroom suddenly felt too small.
Their scents lingered heavily in the air – rain washing over a flowery meadow.
“Quackity…”
He had no idea what he wanted to say. Their breaths mingled in a narrow space between them. He just needed to-
“Kiss me.”
The second these words left the prince, Multi’s hand found the back of his neck, crashing their lips together.
Quackity let out a surprised sound against his mouth, but it quickly melted into something softer as his fingers gripped the fabric of the scientist’s shirt.
Multi was overwhelmed by everything at once. The prince's warmth beneath his hands. The way their scents tangled, making his head spin.
He pulled away to breathe.
Neither of them spoke. They just stared at each other, panting heavily, and trying to process what had just happened.
Quackity’s face was flushed, lips parted.
“I…” Multi opened his mouth, but before he could utter another word, he was yanked back in.
Their lips met again, this time much rougher.
A low growl tore from his throat, as the kiss deepened, tongues sliding against each other. He wrapped his hand around the avian’s waist and pulled him closer.
The sudden movement made Quackity lose his balance, and a second later the scientist had him pinned against the pillows.
Golden feathers scattered all over the covers.
“You just fixed them…” the prince whined in between fervent kisses.
“Then I will do that again later,” Multi huffed, earning a quiet laugh.
Neither of them seemed capable of pulling away for more than a heartbeat before closing the distance again.
── ⋆⋅✦⋅⋆ ──
It was late evening when Quackity left the reactor. Before that, Multi had fixed the feathers that had gotten ruffled all over again. He had expected the silence afterward to be awkward.
It wasn't.
He walked the prince to the entrance of the base. Thankfully, it had stopped raining.
“I’ll let you know when it’s safe to present your prototype,” Quackity said as they stopped by the docks.
Multi hummed, not really focusing on the project right now. A cool evening breeze brushed against his skin and he immediately looked at the avian who was still wearing his thin t-shirt.
Without thinking, he took off his lab coat and draped it over Quackity’s shoulders. Its edges almost touched the ground, swallowing him in fabric.
“Be careful on your way home,” Multi murmured and absentmindedly lifted his hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind the prince’s ear.
The avian’s gaze softened.
“I will.” He pulled the coat closer to himself, blushing faintly. “Goodnight, Multi.”
He lingered for another heartbeat before ultimately leaving the Polish Cave. Multi watched him until the golden wings disappeared behind the trees.
When he finally turned back around, there were two pairs of eyes staring at him with amusement.
“Well, well, look who we got here.” Graf crossed his arms, leaning against the railing with a smirk. “Mr. ‘I don’t have time for relationships’.”
Beside him, Ewron stifled his laughter.
The scientist could already feel the migraine forming.
“I can't believe you are the first one of us to get a boyfriend.” The assassin shook his head with a snort. “And an omega prince at that!”
“He is not my-”
Multi faltered.
The color drained from his face in an instant.
“Quackity is…” His eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. “...what?”
Silence fell over the base.
“I thought you knew.” Now it was Ewron’s turn to look shocked.
“How could I?!“
“It's hardly a secret…” Graf blinked, lifting his eyebrows.
“Not for me!” Multi’s voice raised, eyes darting between his friends.
“Well,” the assassin started, trying to sound sympathetic, “maybe your instincts subconsciously sensed the compatibility.”
Multi stared at him. Then at Graf. Then back toward the empty docks.
What the actual…
“How did that even happen?” Ewron asked, noisy as always.
“I…” The scientist frowned, threading a hand through his hair. “We got to the reactor… his wings were a mess after the rain, so I offered to preen them and-“
“You WHAT?!” Graf almost toppled over the railing.
“I preened his wings.”
“You-”
“My god, Multi…” Ewron dragged a hand down his face.
“What?” He looked between them, confused. “They were all ruffled. I just fixed them.“
“You offered to preen an omega's wings,” the assassin said slowly, as if explaining something that was painfully obvious.
“Yes, and?”
“You know it counts as courting… right?”
Multi froze.
He felt as if someone just pushed him into an icy lake. Memories from the last few weeks flashed before his eyes. All those meetings, the walks, the flowers, the borrowed clothes, the preening, the scenting…
“Oh,” he breathed. “Oh, god.” His eyes widened, a hand shot to his forehead. “I’ve been courting him this entire time.”
Suddenly, getting funding for his research no longer seemed like the most complicated problem in his life.
── ⋆⋅✦⋅⋆ ──
In the end, Katie’s wedding didn’t start a war. In fact, it brought the island together. Representatives from every faction gathered beneath strings of lanterns and flower garlands, celebrating something other than politics for once.
Normally, Multi would have found an excuse not to attend another social gathering, but Quackity was going to be there. He couldn’t decline.
Since that rainy day, they hadn’t seen each other, only exchanging messages that didn’t really calm his restless mind.
So many things were left unsaid. The prince didn’t seem like he would accept advances from just anyone, but at the same time, whatever existed between them remained unnamed.
On one hand, the ambiguity suited Multi – it kept unwanted attention away. On the other… he was a man of knowledge, and uncertainty had always been his greatest enemy.
Was Quackity expecting something? A grand gesture? A confession? He had no idea. Social rules still remained a mystery to him.
Years ago, he swore he would never be mated to anyone but his work. But now… feelings and instincts he had never known before were taking root somewhere beneath his ribs, disrupting his carefully calculated life.
Which was why his hand reached for yet another glass of whisky.
“Man…” Graf eyed him from across the table. “How much have you had already?”
“I’ve lost count,” Multi grumbled, his gaze never leaving the winged figure laughing together with the newlyweds.
“Stop staring,” Ewron sighed beside him, nudging his elbow. “Just go talk to him.”
“But… I don’t- We-” He frowned into his drink, struggling to get his thoughts in order. “I have no idea how.”
“How to what?”
“To approach him.”
“You’ve literally kissed him,” Ewron deadpanned.
“In private,” he grumbled, glancing around. “This isn’t private.”
The atmosphere was entirely different from the banquet. Guests wandered freely between the tables, drinks in hand, laughing in loud circles, exchanging gossip that spread faster than the music in the background itself.
“Better decide quickly,” Ewron murmured. “Or someone else will.”
As if summoned by those words, across the garden, Jeremy approached Quackity.
The Dutch merchant was smiling brightly, leaning in a little too close, making the prince laugh.
Something unpleasant twisted in Multi's stomach.
He didn't like how familiar Jeremy was behaving. Didn’t like how Quackity's attention focused on someone else.
The song in the background changed. A slow melody filled the venue.
Jeremy extended his hand.
Multi was on his feet before he realized he was moving.
The world tilted slightly beneath his feet, the whisky finally taking its toll, making him sway a bit. Several guests glanced his way as he hurriedly crossed the dance floor.
Quackity noticed him first.
“Multi?”
He stepped between them.
“Uh…?” Jeremy blinked.
Multi didn’t spare him a glance and slid his arm around the avian’s waist, pulling him closer.
Quackity’s eyes widened.
“Multi?”
“Sorry, it took me this long,” he murmured breathily.
Before anybody could react, he closed the gap, smashing their lips in a messy kiss.
The conversation around them died almost instantly. People gasped, but Multi didn’t hear any of it. He tightened his grip around Quackity’s waist while his other hand cupped the back of his neck, drawing him impossibly closer.
The prince froze for a second, but then his fingers grasped the front of the scientist’s jacket, as he kissed him back.
The world disappeared. Everything narrowed down to clean cotton and rain pouring over the wildflowers.
Only when they pulled apart, did Multi become aware of the absolute silence surrounding them. Jeremy had his mouth hanging open, while Katie and her groom were grinning widely.
“I…” He rasped, keeping his voice low. “I think we should get out of here.”
“Yeah…” Quackity glanced briefly at the dozens of eyes fixed on them. “Good idea.”
Without another word, they slipped away from the venue, not offering any explanation – people would add it themselves anyway.
Their feet carried them forward, and somehow, they ended up on a familiar vast meadow scattered with yellow buttercups.
As they settled comfortably under the maple tree, the prince couldn’t hold it anymore and suddenly burst out laughing. His hand covered his mouth, while his shoulders shook.
“You know, that wasn’t very politically correct of you.”
Multi rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, feeling the alcohol still stirring in his bloodstream.
“I told you, I’m a-”
“A scientist, yeah.” The prince looked at him knowingly. “A scientist who didn’t know I was an omega.”
A breath caught in his throat.
“How did you-” He paused, frowning. “Graf told you.”
“Ewron did.” Quackity raised his eyebrows, amusement slowly fading from his face. “You… really had no idea?”
Multi pressed his lips into a thin line.
“I don’t usually ask people their secondary gender.”
The avian stared at him before laughing again.
“So you courted me by accident?” He tiled his head and started counting on his fingers. “You gave me flowers, you scented me, you lent me your clothes-”
“Yours were drenched.”
“You preened my wings.”
“They were messy.”
“You kissed me.”
Multi looked away. A wave of heat flooded his face.
“...that one wasn’t an accident.”
Quackity let out a quiet huff before reaching for the scientist's hand.
“You really are one of a kind,” he chuckled, intertwining their fingers.
Multi looked down at their joined hands, something warm spreading inside his chest.
A comfortable silence settled between them. A gentle breeze swayed the buttercups around their feet.
“Does that mean you…” he heard himself say quietly, “accept my courting?”
“Isn’t that obvious?” Quackity smiled tenderly, squeezing his hand ever so slightly.
A small grin tugged at the corner of the scientist’s mouth, his thumb brushing over the avian’s knuckles.
“So… was that investment worth it?”
The prince let out a bewildered snort.
“You have no idea,” he murmured, eyes twinkling with amusement as he leaned in closer to steal a soft kiss from his lips.
Everyone had their own definition of peace.
To Multi, it had always been freedom.
But now, it was also sun-dried cotton and wildflowers.