Work Text:
If only there was a better way to express emotion besides words: one of the many things in a long list that Launchpad felt like he struggled with. He often felt like he was walking across a tightrope. One slip up and everything he had built with Drake would be over with. It seemed like some sort of impending disaster was going to happen if he confessed his feelings. So he kept them stored away from everything in a little box in the corner of his home. Pages, paragraphs, pictures. They were all stored there.
Oh Drake. The only duck that Launchpad had ever felt truly infatuated with. Perhaps his crush had developed into more of an obsession. How do you tell somebody you care so deeply for that you want to be together in that particular way. Too many things could be miscalculated.
Until that night.
Launchpad disappeared for a moment to the inside of Mr. McDuck’s mansion. Drake agreed he would be fine alone inside of Launchpad’s home for a few minutes. After all, the couch sure was comfortable.
For a while, Drake had questioned the small little box that Launchpad had sitting in the corner. It looked suspicious. It wasn’t on a table. It just always sat in the corner looking suspicious. Drake had asked about the box once before, but Launchpad’s face became flushed and he wouldn’t tell him. He wanted to respect Launchpad’s privacy, but tonight it felt like it was killing him having to look at it. The box looked like it was having a stare-down with Drake. Just the two of them alone in a room.
Maybe a small peak couldn’t hurt. Launchpad would never know. Drake wouldn’t tell.
And so he walked across the room. He turned his head over his shoulder briefly to make sure that Launchpad wasn’t coming in. He reached his hand out towards the box and cracked the lid open.
Cluttered mess of papers it was.
Drake stared for a moment, trying to identify where he should even begin. Maybe if he just looked at the first paper; the top one.
“Drake,” the letter read.
“It’s hard to explain why I feel the way I do about you. It feels different than I’ve felt towards past crushes. I guess that’s what you’d call it. A crush.
“Anyways, I hope someday I get the courage to actually say something.”
Drake quickly put the letter back into the box and closed the lid. He rushed back to his spot on the couch, trying to comprehend what he just read. That smile was impossible to knock off of his face.
Until Launchpad walked back in of course. Suddenly the anxiety of the situation hit. Suddenly—
“Launchpad, I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I looked in your box. I’m sorry.”
The duck stood in the doorway, unsure of how to respond to the situation. Was Drake saying he didn’t like him? Maybe he should just ask. “I guess I always knew this was going to come up someday. I’m sorry.”
Drake rose from the couch and got closer to Launchpad. He reached his hand up, placing it on his cheek gently. “Please don’t be sorry.” He stared into the pilot’s eyes longingly. Their eyes locked for a long moment when Launchpad suddenly leaned his head down a little closer to Drake’s. They were only a couple inches apart. Their instinct drew them closer together as their eyes shut lightly, beaks finally meeting for a long, sweet kiss.
If only there was a better way to express emotion besides words: one of the many things in a long list that Launchpad felt like he struggled with.