Chapter Text
Now, Quackity would be the first to admit that he had a… complicated relationship (to put it lightly) with Wilbur Soot.
So, when he showed up to Wilbur and Tommy’s weird shack outside Las Nevadas and asked for a favor, he really didn’t expect Wilbur to let him in. But he did. And now they were here.
Quackity was pacing in his apartment in Las Nevadas, furiously fighting the urge to either tighten his tie or make it looser while he waited for Wilbur to finish getting ready.
Tonight there was a party celebrating the opening of Las Nevadas and he’d sent out invites a few weeks ago. Everything was going well and according to plan up until he received a message from Kinoko Kingdom saying that they’d be there.
And he quickly realized that meant Karl and Sapnap would be coming.
He’d known of course, somewhere in the back of his mind, that his ex-fiancés would be attending the party, but he hadn’t quite realized what that meant.
Not until it hit him that they would be together while he would be alone.
He’d be surrounded by the other members of Las Nevadas but that couldn’t possibly compare to the two of them, who, no doubt, would be attached at the hip and dancing throughout the night.
Quackity once again cursed himself for making the party more of a gala.
There would be slow dancing. Fucking slow dancing.
And he would have to stand there and watch it.
So he’d resolved to bring a date. Problem solved right?
Wrong.
So very, very wrong.
At first, he was considering asking one of the members of Las Nevadas, but quickly realized that most of them had dates. And on second thought he didn’t want to show up with someone who was technically working for him. That would look just about as sad as being alone.
So he thought about it. Then thought about it some more.
Because there were really only a few people who he felt close enough with that he could ask them to come with him, and even then he wouldn’t tell them the real reason why.
Quackity realized pretty quickly that there was only one person he could ask.
And somehow that led to him waiting for Wilbur to get dressed in his bathroom while people slowly arrived downstairs.
“Seriously Wilbur,” he called, antsy to get to the party. He was the host after all. “What’s taking you so long?”
The reply was muffed by the bathroom door, “Just go down without me, I should be there in just a few minutes.”
“What?!” Quackity looked at his watch, he probably should just head downstairs, “Fine, but you better be there soon and make a very good entrance to get their attention.”
He wanted his fiancés to see him with someone else.
“You’re being petty again~” Wilbur’s smirk was audible even with his sing-song tone.
Quackity couldn’t even deny it this time. He’d gone to Wilbur not planning to tell him why he wanted him to be his fake-date, but, naturally, the second the words were out of his mouth the brunet had caught on, his perceptive stare caught on the rings around Quackity’s neck.
“Yeah well… just hurry up,” He retorted and left before he could hear the reply.
On the way down to the party Quackity had a little too much time to wonder why he was bringing Wilbur at all. To spite his ex-fiancés of course, but even he could realize that bringing his rival to a party that he was hosting as his fake date to make his exes that were still together jealous was an odd choice.
Actually… if he thought too hard about Niki’s birthday party then perhaps it made more sense.
Quackity’s relationship with Wilbur was categorized by its banter. A constant give and take, push and pull. All of their interactions were a mixture of sharp remarks, either scathing or teasing, and that came with tension.
Niki’s party had really only confirmed it and made him what kind of tension was between them.
Because really, he couldn’t help it if the brunet was passably attractive.
Maybe that’s why he brought Wilbur. Because he’d already spent time with him acting like they were together, or at the very least interested in each other. It was simply easier to draw on that pre-existing relationship then try to manufacture something new.
Yeah. That made sense. If he stretched the meaning of sense.
Luckily, he was distracted from his thoughts by the muffled sounds of music and people. He’d reached the ground floor and walked a few meters down the hall to the large room being used for the party.
Sam was waiting near the door and his eyes raked over Quackity, “where’s Wilbur?”
He’d only told Charlie and Sam who he was coming with. He told Sam because the warden was also kind of on security and having a well-known terrorist who was kind of supposed to be dead just show up out of the blue would probably have ended badly. Charlie just somehow… got it out of him. Quackity himself wasn’t totally sure how.
“Getting changed. He’s taking forever and just told me to head down. Dramatic asshole.”
The raised eyebrow he received was skeptical, “Yeah. Because getting the undead terrorist ex-president to be your date isn’t a dramatic move.”
Quackity scoffed, “I certainly could’ve done worse though.”
“How?” Sam sounded almost incredulous, “Genuinely how could you have found someone that would have been more… extra… to bring?”
“…I could’ve tried to revive my alcoholic, slightly abusive, dead ex-husband.”
He kind of forgot Sam would know who that was and was startled when he exclaimed, “wait, Schlatt? He’s your ex-husband?”
“Sort of yeah. I mean, we had only been married as a sort of alliance to help cement our parties in L’Manberg. It was quite literally a political marriage since we won the election. For a while I thought he liked me…” Quackity suddenly realized what he was saying and tried to backtrack, “either way, it doesn’t matter. Wilbur definitely isn’t the worst I could’ve asked.”
Sam looked horrified but almost unsurprised, luckily though he seemed willing to just brush past it. “So you still ended up bringing a revived ex-president of L’Manberg who brought the country to ruin, except that you don’t have a romantic past with this one?”
The half-beat of silence before Quackity spoke again was telling.
“Well… I wouldn’t say that…” He didn’t particularly want to talk to it, still not completely sure where exactly he stood with Wilbur, “Anyway. Is everything going smoothly now? I don’t think I’ll wait out here, I’ll just go in and Wilbur can come find me inside.”
“Uh- yeah, yeah, everything is going fine but- “ Sam was willing to let his past with Schlatt go but wasn’t going to let Quackity in without discussing Wilbur, “when? How? Is that why you asked him tonight? But wait- “
But Quackity was already walking inside, suddenly getting the feeling that telling his reluctant business partner and the closest thing he had to a friend anything more about his love life would only end in disaster. Especially since almost everyone on the SMP knew he, Karl, and Sapnap had all been together until recently.
Fuck. I shouldn’t have said anything.
“Bye Sam!” He called over his shoulder, pushing opening the doors to his right and walking through.
The room was gorgeous. Crystal chandeliers with strings of glowstone hanging from the high ceiling and dark wooden floors and paneling along the walls, as well as some off-white wallpaper. A few choice art pieces were hung up around and brightened the room up. Tables all places neatly around the edges of the room with an empty space in the middle for a dance floor.
It all looked wonderful, if he did say so himself. And he did.
At the head of the room was a semi-circle stage. On it was a lectern and a microphone where soon he would be standing and giving a speech, thanking everyone for coming.
Speaking of it seemed everyone was already here. He could see Eret with Niki and Foolish, the former two wearing beautiful draping dresses while Foolish wore a suit, all of them were smiling and laughing. As Quackity’s eyes swept over the room he saw everyone, from the supposed ex-members of the eggpire, who seemed to have gone out of their way to not wear red, to Tubbo and Ranboo who were both giggling as Tommy wildly gestured, probably telling some story.
Eventually he found Phil. Standing alone and looking every bit like the timeless immortal that people whispered he was. Nobody knew who Phil was really, just that he showed up on November 16th and killed Wilbur before helping L’Manberg be restored, then eventually destroying it again with Techno and Dream.
…oh shit. Does he know what happened to Techno?
The impassive stare with which the blond man looked around the room said that no, Phil didn’t know what Quackity and Sam had done. If he did then there was no way that the famed ‘angel of death’ would be wasting time with a party, instead hunting him down.
Actually, now that he thought of it, should Quackity be worried about Phil? He didn’t know how close he was with Techno but judging by his unwillingness back in the butcher army days to hand over Techno’s compass and all the times both men had shown affection for each other they were definitely friends. Just how far would Phil go for his friend?
Quackity took a breath and reminded himself that he wasn’t worrying about anything tonight. His only concern was getting the people of the SMP to fall in love with Las Nevadas and to show his exes that he was moving on without them.
Simple.
He walked over to the bar to wait for Wilbur, ordering a glass of some kind of soda. It tasted good (a bit fruity) and looked like champagne but wasn’t alcoholic. Call him paranoid but he didn’t want to be drunk tonight. Or ever really, but tonight specifically he wanted to avoid any liquor. It still reminded him of Manberg.
When he’d told Wilbur that he wasn’t allowed to drink, or at the least, wasn’t allowed to drink much, the brunet had pouted but relented surprisingly easily. It was a small win he was content to enjoy.
Quackity sighed into his drink. It seemed like a long night already and it had barely started.
“Hello Quackity from Las Nevadas!”
And here it was about to get longer.
He turned around and made himself smile, “Hey Charlie, how’re you doing tonight? Enjoying the party so far?”
The beaming grin he received was so bright it was near blinding, “Yeah I’m having fun. I’ve gotten a lot of people to dap me up!”
Quackity eyed the slime’s… well… slimy hands and grimaced, knowing a lot of people would’ve had to clean off their hands to avoid getting their clothes dirty. He made a mental note to send someone to check the towels in the bathroom-
That thought quickly evaporated when the doors at the end of the hall opened again, revealing Sam. Quackity tried to squash the feeling eerily like disappointment, right up until the warden moved to the side to allow view of the person behind him.
Fucking hell. Maybe he is a dramatic choice.
Wilbur stood in all of his chaotic glory, hair artfully messy, his posture cocky and relaxed. He was wearing a long, charcoal-coloured pants and blazer over a black turtleneck. Something about him seemed hypnotic, everyone’s gazes suddenly drawn to the man. Wilbur’s dark eyes seemed to reflect the void he had spent a decade inhabiting and they swallowed everyone’s attention easily.
“What the fuck?!”
Quackity didn’t know who said it but he was pretty sure everyone understood the sentiment. Few people knew he was alive and even then, up until know Wilbur had looked half-dead whenever Quackity had seen him, like limbo wasn’t quite ready to let go. But now he looked alive, so very alive.
And more than just a little hot.
Shit.
Wilbur practically waltzed into the room, ignoring everyone trying to pick their jaws up off the floor. Even the people who knew he had been revived looked shell-shocked, the grin on Wilbur’s face telling Quackity the man was enjoying their gawking.
Despite this, he bypassed all of them and walked straight to the bar. Straight to him, Quackity belatedly realized. He stopped at Quackity’s side and leaned over to whisper in his ear, a gesture that to anyone else would look seductive, “So how far are we taking this?”
His mind was still hazy with shock but he did realize they hadn’t actually talked about boundaries and what they could do with each other so he managed to ask, “…what are you thinking?”
“Well I consider myself an actor,” then Wilbur was pulling back and smirking at him, “I say we give ‘em a show.”
Maybe his drink was alcoholic because Quackity took barely a second to think about the words before he was pulling the other closer and looping his arms around Wilbur’s neck, “I like that idea.”
Wilbur’s face split into a smile and he laughed, quickly wrapping one arm around Quackity’s waist, “Alright then.”
A mischievous looked crossed over the brunet’s face and suddenly he was leaning down to kiss the shorter man on the cheek.
What-
He had barely a second to recover and Quackity could still feel tingling on his cheek where Wilbur had pressed his lips when his hands were carefully pushed off Wilbur’s shoulders as the man shifted to lean against the bar while still staying pressed against Quackity’s side, one arm remained curled around him.
All of this to say, he could see everyone else now. Expressions ranged from shock to horror to outrage to-
Sapnap and Karl.
Standing directly in front of him, a few feet away.
Holy fucking shit.
How the hell did he not see them? And not think about them? What the fuck was Quackity doing here with someone else, touching someone else while his-
His eyes shot to their intertwined hands and the rings on their fingers that glinted in the light.
Ah. Right.
He didn’t even want to look to see if his ring would still be there or if they’d moved on that quickly. He thought about Kinoko Kingdom and realized they probably had.
Suddenly Wilbur squeezed his waist lightly and Quackity started, looking to his date.
Wilbur looked almost… concerned?
Quackity could feel his ex-fiancés eyes on him. The burning hole they were no-doubt glaring into him.
He purposefully relaxed himself back into Wilbur’s side and ignored the slight alarm on the brunet’s face, “let’s get drinks?”
Wilbur nodded and, with his hand shifting to the small of Quackity’s back, guided him to the other end of the bar.
They sat down and after ordering Wilbur watched him carefully, “so… “
“So.”
“You’re not over them.”
Quackity jolted. He hadn’t known what he was expected but that wasn’t it. “Why does it matter?”
“So you admit you’re not? Why did you bring me then?” Wilbur looked far too innocent, the worry in his eyes almost looked real.
He shook his head, that was a dangerous train of thought to be going down, “again, why does it matter?”
Wilbur frowned, “I’m not willing to do this if you’re not going to be okay with it.”
The shorter man hissed, “it doesn’t fucking matter but if you are so concerned about me, I’m doing this to end it.”
He could feel the weight of the rings around his neck. They were burning into his skin.
“Quackity.” Wilbur asked sharply, drawing his attention, “do you want to do this?”
“Yes!” He snapped, “Fucks sake, yes I do. I was just surprised that’s all.”
His date raised a wry eyebrow, “you were surprised to see them at an event you invited them to?”
“Oh shut up.” Quackity rolled his eyes, relieved to be back to joking. Their conversation was getting a little to serious for his liking.
Wilbur grinned, “you love it.”
Quackity squashed his slight panic at the words and forced a smile, “don’t get ahead of yourself Soot.”
Of course, Wilbur caught it, “no on the love jokes? Alright.”
He cursed himself, how the hell could Wilbur have been dead for months and still be able to read him better than those who had witnessed him spiraling, “no. It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.”
“It does,” Wilbur insisted, “if you don’t want me to say shit like that I won’t.”
Looking at the brunet Quackity could see only a sweet sincerity in his eyes but he couldn’t be sure it was real.
“Wilbur… why- “ he cut himself off before he could say anything, “fine. But let’s keep going.”
A slow nod, “Okay.”
Quackity tried not to grimace as he smiled, “Okay.”