Chapter Text
Rae whoops into the quiet summer afternoon, jumping off a tree branch in the breezy shade of the forests towards The Rapids. Her lavender wings unfold, letting her coast the wind to the next branch.
Her slippers hit the wood, the branch bouncing as her hands fly towards it, trying to steady herself. She waits for the branch to still before jumping to the next one like a monkey.
Winds billow in the air, puffing leaves into the brilliantly blue sky. The trees are growing their first shades of spring, flowers blooming on the ground. The forest unfolds before her like a painting, the sun dappling the world in angelic golden light. Everything is so pretty–– the dew clinging to the grass, the smell of pine and oak and spruce, the chattering of the little critters as they, too, wake up with the morning.
It’s warm enough for her to wear a light shirt and pants as opposed to her tighter, warmer clothes, and feeling the breeze against her skin has never felt more enjoyable.
Rae’s goggles zoom in on Karl’s launchpad, easily a thousand wingbeats away. She jumps down from the trees, landing softly amidst the blooms, and starts making her way there on foot. She has time to enjoy the world around her, and so she shall.
“Karl likes poppies,” Rae murmurs, picking up a few. She thinks the keikikāne would like a nice bouquet. Their significant others always send them pretty things anyways; flowers from a friend wouldn’t be bad. “Skeppy and amaranths.”
She’s so engrossed in her flower picking that she nearly doesn’t notice the Winged on the ground until she nearly falls over them.
“ Quackity ?!” Rae asks incredulously. Navy blue wings unfold, revealing Quackity blinking blearily, rubbing at his eyes. “What are you doing here?”
Rae leans down to frown at Quackity a few inches away from his face. Quackity raises his head and–– “ AAH ! Rae, what the FUCK ?!”
“Why are you asleep on the ground?” Rae asks, crossing her arms. Her goggles zoom into a rather unsightly pimple on Quackity’s cheek, and she hits the side of them to get them to zoom out again. “Why? Huh? Did the other keikikāne kick you out?”
“What––what the fuck, no ,” Quackity says, scrambling onto his feet and cramming his beanie back onto his head. “No––what the fuck? They didn’t kick me out, I was just––”
“Sleeping on the ground is bad for your wings, you know,” Rae says, hopping around him to lift up one of Quackity’s wings.
( flock flock flock flock flock )
Quackity’s wing flinches away from her, nearly smacking her in the face. “SORRY sorry sorry, what the hell, Rae?”
“C’mon, Quackity, I saw a few messed up feathers in there,” Rae cajoles, giving him her best older-sister puppy dog eyes. “ Pleaaaaaaaase can I fix them?”
They stare at each other for a few minutes, brown eyes narrowing at each other.
Quackity sighs. “Fine.”
“Yayyyy!” Rae cheers, jumping in the air. She leads him to a nearby and reasonably clean rock flat enough for both of them to sit on. She settles down behind Quackity’s left wing, peering curiously over the dark feathers.
Quackity’s wings are not as deep as Corpse’s, which glow as deep as the purple of the night in the full light of the sun, nor are they anywhere near as light as Sykkuno’s, which shimmer like pine leaves. She’s never really seen his up close either; the only people she’s ever seen touch his wings, really, are Karl and Sapnap.
He unlaces his shirt, drawing the back halves off his back and tucking his knees to his chest. She can’t tell if that’s as a protective stance or because he didn’t want to hld up his shirt, but she silently promises him she’ll be gentle.
Creator knows this is an odd situation regardless, and she does like making people happy.
She first maneuvers her hands under his wings to massage the nape of Quackity’s neck, coating her hands in his preening oil. She kneads the knots in Quackity’s shoulders and around his wing joints –– not necessarily a requirement, but having two very large limbs that use a lot of energy is pretty damn taxing.
“Why are your muscles like rocks, Quackity?” Rae grunts, digging her fingers as hard as she could into them.
Quackity slumps, already blissed out into bird brain state. “Nmgnhghshdnhmmmm.”
When she’s reasonably satisfied with the state of Quackity’s muscles, Rae starts smoothing the preening oil over his coverts and secondaries, working up to down, inside to out.
It’s a tedious yet meditative process, straightening feathers, redoing the oiling, pulling out the occasional dead one that had gotten stuck, brushing off the dirt and random small pebbles stuck in the vane. Takes a few vargas, but.. shiny , fresh new wings.
Rae’s on the second half of Quackity’s left wing when he, slumped over his knees like a fish out of water, says, “I don’t get romantic love.”
Rae hums, setting an awry feather into place. She smooths her hands over a few more, spreading the oil around whilst brushing away some of the dust.
“I’m friends with Karl and Sapnap,” Quackity says floatily, from the bird brain. “I want to be with them and spend time with them and stuff. But I don’t want to kiss them. That’s fu… gross.”
Rae doesn’t say anything, pursing her lips in thought.
“I like them,” Quackity says. “But what’s the difference between platonic and romantic relationships? I don’t get it.”
“Well, you don’t have to get it,” Rae says, starting on his primaries. She shuffles closer to him on the rock, letting his wing droop onto her lap.
“I feel like I should,” Quackity grumbles. Rae bites her lip, brushing through the last of Quackity’s left wing.
They sit in silence for a while as Rae moves on to Quackity’s right wing. Surprisingly, not many of his feathers are really astray. The oil’s just dulled on some of them, making the blue of his wings seem more muddy than the deep lazuli it should be.
Rae wishes she was in her nest, for both wing care and this talk. The rock is definitely not comfortable enough and she’s pretty sure that Quackity wouldn’t be telling her this in any different circumstance.
“How did it feel when you… you know. When you were with–– him.”
“Hmm?” Rae says, tongue slipping back from between her teeth from where she’d been lightly biting it out of concentration. “Oh. Well… with him, it felt different from the relationship I had with my friends. With my friends, it feels like they understand me and support me and–– and love me, and they would regardless of all the clicknak, but with him–– it felt like I was in love with him. Like I was building something greater together with him, like he was my partner in crime for–– well, life.”
She finishes his primaries, smoothing her hands over the big, glossy feathers. Quackity shudders in delight, a sigh slipping out of his mouth. “And the kissing.”
“Among other things,” Rae says with a smirk.
Quackity turns to look at her, wide eyed. “Rae! What the fuck?! Rae––”
Rae laughs, loud and bright with a twinkle in her eye. Quackity makes a face at her, which only makes her laugh harder.
He faces forward again, wing twitching as if to tell her to continue preening it. Rae sighs, squishing her cheeks to try and soothe them down from grinning so hard.
She takes Quackity’s wing in her hands once more, starting on the coverts.
“I don’t understand that,” Quackity whispers. “What’s greater than friendship? How do you love someone more than that?”
Rae passes her hands over the coverts once more. “Some people don’t understand it. That’s okay, you know, not everyone has to find a romantic partner or love. Everyone’s valid and unique in their own way.”
Quackity says nothing, just props his chin on his elbows as Rae makes her way to his primaries.
She combs through them, tugging a dead feather caught between two others. The rest of his wing goes by quickly, navy shining in the light as the sun rises to midquint.
Quackity doesn’t even notice when Rae’s finally done with his wing, still staring off into the distance in his own mind despite the clear and bright eyes from bird brain. Sykkuno’s told Rae that her eyes glow like suns when she’s in bird brain, and Quackity’s the same–– his eyes glow with the inner workings of gold, though, bitter black coffee dappling around the bright yellow.
Rae holds out her hand to him, tilting her head. He lifts his eyes and meets her gaze like it’s the hardest thing in the world, and maybe it is.
She pulls him up and wraps her arms around him, soothing his hair as his shoulders shake against hers. “Awww, Quackity. It’ll be okay, I promise.”
And it would be okay. Maybe not now, but it would.
So when Quackity grumbles, “Don’t tell anyone,” and scrubs the tears furiously from his eyes, Rae simply smiles at him. She holds her hand out to him, and he rolls his eyes, but he takes it.
They talk about everything under the sun, about Rae’s journey, about the next Full Moon Night, about the goings-on of the Rapids and the Amigops.
And when Rae sees Quackity happier than he was when she first encountered him once they make it to the Rapids, well.
Her smile shines a little brighter.