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If there was one thing Phil did not expect from his recently revived, essentially homeless son, it was him bringing home a date.
Wilbur hadn’t really brought anyone home before anyway. He’d left around 16 to travel the world, before he was really interested in that stuff. Phil had never even gotten to meet his mysterious ex wife. So needless to say, he didn’t really know if this was in character or not for his son. But maybe a partner would be good for him. Someone to ground him, make sure he didn’t go off the deep end again.
Phil decided to tidy the place up a bit, hide the sword and axes and all that. Didn’t want Wilbur’s date getting the wrong idea about them. No terrorists here, no siree. He shoved a spare stick of dynamite into the chest.
He had a nice white tablecloth and some nice food set out. He’d even persuaded Techno to sit with them and not just shut himself in his room with a whetstone and a sword. Ranboo was somewhere else tonight, so they didn’t have to worry about finding an extra seat. Now they were just waiting on Wilbur and his date.
There was a knock at the door. Phil smiled and went up to greet them. He opened the door to see his son nervously beaming - and a grumpy looking Quackity next to him. Phil almost shut the door.
But no, he shouldn’t. It was fine, all fine. Turns out his son had terrible taste, but he could deal with that. He sent a quick glance back at Techno. Oh right. Phil awkwardly grinned at him, to which Techno looked suspicious. “Who is it Phil?”
“Oh hell no, I am not doing this,” came Quackity’s voice.
“Come on, they’re not that bad!” exclaimed Wilbur. Phil moved aside to let them in.
Wilbur had cleaned up a bit. He’d ditched the normal brown jacket for one of Phil’s fur capes, which he was currently hanging up. Under that it was the usual yellow sweater with a white button up underneath, the collar and sleeves being tucked over the outside. Quackity on the other hand, was not so dressed for the weather. He was clearly still shivering from the cold in nothing but a button up with a black sweater vest. If it were anyone else Phil might’ve felt a little bad.
Phil turned back to see Techno’s expression, which already wasn’t good. He looked surprised, but not terribly angry. He walked over and nudged him. “Please, just for tonight be...well not nice. Tolerable.”
Techno sighed. “Don’t worry Phil. Quackity and I have honestly been pretty alright ever since that egg fell. I just didn’t think he was Wilbur’s type is all.”
“Honestly, what even is Wilbur’s type?”
“You’re asking the wrong guy here.”
“Phil! Techno!” Wilbur broke in. “You’ve met Quackity already I’m sure. Quackity this is my dad Phil and my brother Techno.”
“No we’re not,” said Techno.
Wilbur laughed. “That’s what you think.” He put a hand on Quackity’s shoulder and squeezed reassuringly before sitting down, the other man following suit. Phil sat across from them, crossing his hands together and hoping the ensuing headache this night would surely bring wouldn’t be too bad.
Quackity was already having a bad night.
From freezing his ass off in the snow, to being brought to his worst enemies’ house, to Wilbur not being bothered by this at all, he was certainly regretting accepting this offer.
It all started one day when he saw Wilbur standing by the Las Nevadas sign (again) and tried to shoo him off. “You! Haven’t I told you to go the fuck away?” Normally he handled this with more finesse, but Charlie had broken the pipes earlier today and he was in a pissy mood. Wilbur noticed this too, jumping back a bit.
“Woah, you’re touchy today,” he mused. “Something wrong?”
“Like I’d tell you,” Quackity spat back. He caught himself and added, “Maybe it’s just the sight of your sick face.”
Wilbur frowned a bit. “So something is wrong?”
“No. Nothing.”
“Oh. Okay then.” He went back to leaning against the sign. “...Do you have anything tonight?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
“Well I just...you know. We could do something. It wouldn’t be here if you don’t want me to enter your country. Get food or something.”
Quackity paused. “Are you...asking me out?”
He shuffled his feet. “I mean I’m not not doing that. And hey, I’ll stop hanging by this sign all the time if you come.”
He groaned at that. “Fine, I’ll think about it I guess.”
Wilbur perked right up. “Oh. Oh okay I didn’t think you’d say yes.”
“Not yes. Maybe”
“Yeah, yeah I got it.” But Wilbur was already beaming ear to ear. He turned away and Quackity could swear he saw a literal skip in the man’s step.
Worst of all was that he accepted.
Why? If you asked he’d say nothing better to do. But in reality there was some kind of fascination with the other man. He wouldn’t stop challenging him. All of his power and wealth didn’t mean shit to Wilbur, a poor man with stone tools, still choosing to loiter outside his nation knowing full well any of its inhabitants could kill him easily. It annoyed him more than scared him. Wilbur was no threat after all. Yet he got Quackity worked up at the thought of him so easily. It was...he guessed he’d call it intriguing. Part of him wanted to learn more about this man who pushed his buttons so easily, who went toe to toe with him without any substantial power to back it up.
And it didn’t hurt that he was rather handsome.
Wilbur showed up to his door as the sun was going down. His hair looked like he’d tried to comb it back, although curls were still sticking out here and there. Quackity hated to admit it, but it was slightly endearing. And then he took his arm and led him to a freezing wasteland with his family, Quackity’s worst enemies, and any charm he’d been feeling was lost.
Quackity poked at his meat with a fork. It was tough. “Is this...dried?”
“It’s preserved,” remarked Phil. “We got the fresher stuff out tonight.” It certainly didn’t seem fresh to Quackity as his knife struggled to work through it. Meanwhile the other three were cutting through it no problem. Has Wilbur been eating this crap all his life?
The man grinned at his father. “Thanks a lot, Phil. Tastes great.”
Phil gave a quick smile and turned his gaze to Quackity. “You haven’t eaten yet. Something wrong?” He kept himself from bristling. There was a smirk lurking behind Phil’s calm smile.
“Nothing. Just letting it cool down a bit,” he gritted through his teeth.
The room had horrible decorations. Animal pelts were lined up on the walls with all the tactlessness of someone living out in the arctic not expecting any guests. They looked to be mostly deer and wolf, given the pair of antlers and the set of fangs in a case mounted up there as well. Chests were stuffed on every side of the room. In the corner there was a small spruce sapling in a pot. It was the only thing Quackity didn’t hate about the place.
“So, how did the two of you meet?” Phil asked.
Wilbur beamed and threw himself into the question. “It all started when we had these elections…”
After a lot of trailing off and forgetting what he was saying, glossing over unpleasant details, and fast talking, Wilbur finally came to the end of the story. “And now we’re business rivals!” Techno harrumphed amusedly.
It made Quackity want to roll his eyes. “‘Rivals’ is a strong word when your business barely poses a threat to mine.”
“Oh really?” he smirked. “Then why does it bother you so much?”
“It’s annoying! That’s all” Quackity grumbled and went back to his dry meat. Meanwhile Wilbur leaned across the table conspiratorially.
“He liiiiiikes me,” he said in a teasing tone to Phil, who had a strained smile on his face.
“Good for you, son. It sounds like you’re...happy together?”
“Oh we’re not really together yet. This is our first date!”
Phil and Techno exchanged looks. Quackity grabbed Wilbur’s arm. “I really need to talk to you.” Without another word he dragged Wilbur into the room next to them. He turned to glare. “Why the hell did you bring me here?!”
Wilbur frowned, looking confused. “Aren’t you supposed to introduce your date to your parents?”
“When it’s a serious relationship! This is our first fucking date!” He grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him in. Wilbur’s eyes widened a bit as he took a sharp inhale. “Let me make one thing clear. We’re nothing. After tonight this is over.” Quackity could feel beads of sweat forming from how worked up he was getting. Looking up at Wilbur, the other man’s eyes looked almost glazed over. “Wilbur. Wilbur! Are you listening to me?”
He murmured something under his breath. “What was that?”
Wilbur shut his mouth quickly. “Nothing.” He backed away, tugging against Quackity’s grasp. Sighing and letting the other man go, he turned away.
“Whatever, let’s just get through this night. With your shitty family and their horrible food.” He began to walk back towards the door when he felt a hand on his wrist.
“Wait, Quackity.” His voice was soft, almost desperate. “We don’t have to go back there right now. I can tell them we have to leave and we can slip out the back.” Quackity looked back at him. He really did look genuine, even for him. His handsome face now looked like that of a kicked puppy. It made a small part of him, deep down inside, feel bad for him.
“No, it’s fine,” he said, even though it wasn’t. “We don’t have to go.” Glancing over Wilbur’s shoulder, he took in the room behind him. Despite sharing the same horrible decor, it had a few more redeeming qualities. In the corner opposite them was a roaring fireplace with a...was that a polar bear next to it? It let out a growly snore, letting him know that yes, it was real. Vines with glowberries hanging from them crisscrossed the ceiling, painting the room in a soft orange light. The rug was also fur, much to Quackity’s displeasure, but at least it looked soft. “We could just...stay here for a little?”
Wilbur blinked. “Oh. Alright then. Here? You sure?”
“Yes I’m sure.” He walked over to the fireplace and sat himself down. The polar bear twitched but didn’t wake up. Wilbur came trailing behind. He sat down, a good way apart from Quackity. Well, he’d been on worse dates before.
Meanwhile, Phil and Techno ate in awkward silence.
“So,” Techno began. “What was that about?”
“You ask me like I’d know.”
He shrugs. “You were married once.”
The old man nudged his friend. “‘Once’? Hold your tongue, we’re still married.”
“Because marriage is apparently not seeing someone for twenty four years except for vague dream messages and notes from crows.”
“That’s different and you know it.”
“Mhm. Cringe.”
Phil laughed a little at that. “Hey, did you count how long it took us to get him to leave the room? I’d consider that a record.”
“Against who? The many other dates Wilbur’s introduced you to?”
“Anyone who’s met us in general.”
“Fair.”
Back in the room, Quackity was not missing how Wilbur had inched closer to him overtime. He watched the light of the fire dance across the other man’s face. That stupid face had brought him right to his enemies’ house. That stupid face had a little nick in the forehead and a mostly healed but still visible scar on his right cheek and his chin was clearly shaved from the little scruff it had since last time he saw him. It was almost unfair how fascinating his face was. Quackity didn’t want to look away. It infuriated him and calmed him simultaneously.
Wilbur caught him looking out of the corner of his eye and turned to him. A smug smile crept onto his face and Quackity was no longer entranced. “Like what you see?”
“Shut up. I’m not flattering you.”
“So you do then?” Quackity wanted to punch his handsome face right in. So what if it looked good in the firelight? It would look just as good with a dark bruise or two. He gritted his teeth and didn’t give him an answer. They remained in a stalemate of smugness and anger. Then, an idea popped into Quackity’s head. It was a reckless idea, a foolish one. But he was curious about the potential reaction.
So he grabbed Wilbur by the back of his hair and pulled him in, smushing their lips together.
“Whoa-” Wilbur was cut off by the warmth on his mouth. He stared in shock for a moment before reciprocating. To Quackity’s surprise, he wasn’t bad for being dead for thirteen years. Maybe this wasn’t the worst date he’d been on, he thought as Wilbur wrapped his hands around his shoulder. No, not the worst by far.
Next room over, Philza heard a thump. “Should I be worried?”
Techno was wiping his snout daintily. “Knowing both of them, yes.”
Sighing, Phil stood up. Hopefully this night would be over soon. He didn’t like to call himself old, but he was really feeling so tonight. He opened the door and blanked.
Shut the door.
He sat back in his chair. “Well,” he said. “Tell Wilbur he can never bring that boy around here again.”
“Heh???”
Inside, Wilbur heard the creak of the door. But by the time he looked up, Phil was already gone. He frowned, looking intensely at it.
“Hey, get back here” Quackity pulled him forward by the shirt. “I don’t want to think about your stupid family right now.”
“Oh, well, okay then.”
After a bit more making out, Quackity slumped down, laying his face on Wilbur’s chest. “God I’m tired,” he groaned. “Walking here was a pain and I still feel hungry.”
Wilbur wrapped an arm around him. “You know, Steve is pretty nice to most people. We could…?”
“What are you suggesting?” The tall man scooched over and laid back on the polar bear’s side. Aside from a faint rumbling he didn’t stir. He patted the space next to him, indicating for Quackity to sit down. With a sigh and one last wary glance at the beast he laid down on the fluff himself.
They stayed a part away from each other until Quackity finally gave in, missing the warmth of touch, and laid his head on Wilbur’s shoulder. The other stiffened a bit at the touch but quickly drew in as well. Steve snorted behind them.
“Wilbur?”
“Yeah?”
“Next time, I’m planning the date.”
“Next time? I thought you said-”
“I know what I said you fool. Now be quiet and cuddle me.”
He eagerly relented.
Phil checked on them again an hour later and asked if they should get going with all the passive aggressiveness of a disgruntled wine mom. Neither of them had even finished their meals but that was alright. Quackity had no problems not eating any more of that tough meat.
At least Techno had the grace to wave goodbye as they left. The night was even chillier than before. Quackity shivered almost automatically.
Seeing this, Wilbur put an arm out and wrapped him under his cloak. The other blinked gratefully. For all his irritating tendencies and oblivious date ideas, Wilbur Soot was a charmer when he wanted to be.
They walked back to Las Nevadas, hand in hand.