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Quackity stood on the snowy top of his casino, looking over his nation. It was truly beautiful, buildings and fountains all made of quartz and other expensive materials. Residents normally scattered across the streets but tonight was eerily silent.
He stood and looked at this home for him and his fiancé’s to live together. He stood and tried not to think about the fact that they had created their own kingdom without him. He tried not to think about how they left him.
He was a strong man, someone resilient who didn’t give up on things so when he felt his boyfriends forgetting about him he did everything in his power to be unforgettable. He would make them dinner and sing for them and he would try his hardest to make them love him again.
Everything he did seemed to fall flat though, and he found himself alone again, alone like he always was. He was left for a kingdom and he was forced to continue this nation he had built as a symbol of love.
“Fancy seeing you here” a stark British voice pulled him from his thoughts as he turned around to see Wilbur Soot. The man who had died and been revived. The handsome man with his trench coat and white streaks in his hair that made the shorter man's breath halt. Quackity wished with all his broken soul that he had stayed dead.
“How did you get up here? Las Nevadas is supposed to be hard to get into.” the ravenette gritted through his teeth. He knew the brit had ways of getting anywhere no matter the defenses, he also knew Slime was on duty tonight. He also might have done that on purpose because he knew Wilbur would be around and because he knew the revived man would want to see him.
Slime was his assistant that he’d found in the ground, he seemed to just be a pile of sludge that had gained consciousness and a humanoid form. Quackity assumed this to be the result of Schlatts factories which had been out of work for some time but the effects were still prominent. Even after death the fucker just couldn’t leave the world to be happy. Either way Slime had become extremely loyal to Quackity and had become his right hand man, despite not even being a man.
“You know that slime guy isn’t exactly the smartest person right? All I had to do was let him hit me, and tell him I was close with you and he loved me” Wilbur smirked and walked over to Quackity who felt rage boil somewhere deep inside of himself, “it’s almost like you wanted me to come here.”
“You think you’re close with me?” The tension was thick. Neither man had forgotten their history, the days of flirtatious jokes that escalated, the days of desperation. They were both so alone so they decided to be alone together, then Karl and Sapnap had taken Quackity in. The two had told him they loved him and like a fool he believed it.
“I think I am. I also think you wanted to see me tonight.” Wilbur smiled sweetly, making Quackity’s stomach churn with disdain and want.
“It’s almost like you have a death wish,” Quackity muttered, ignoring the accusation. He didn’t want to deny it, because it was true. Something deep in him, rotting away at his torn down and dark soul wanted to see the revived criminal again.
“I beat death, I have no wish to go back to that limbo but I don't fear it so your threats are empty. Not to mention I know you won’t kill me. Anyways where are your pretty little boyfriends?” Wilbur asked with a smile on his voice. He pretended not to know about Kinoko Kingdom or the way the two had seemingly forgotten about Quackity. They didn’t even say goodbye. “From what I remember they mean a lot to you don't they? I mean you left me for them in a heartbeat and broke my poor little heart.”
“Don’t pretend you loved me. Don’t pretend that you didn’t know what being with me meant.” Quackity spat, venom in his voice. He knew what Wilbur was doing, trying to make him crack. He knew this was what he had wanted but he couldn’t stay calm when rage was rotting in his core. He hated his fiancé’s for leaving him and he hated Wilbur for coming back. “Don’t pretend what we had was anything other than lust and loneliness.”
“Oh but I never said any of that. '' Wilbur took a step closer, backing Quackity up a step. “I merely said that you left me. You left our little arrangement for them but even with two men in your bed you were still alone weren’t you? You were alone with Schlatt and you were alone with me and from what it looks like you were so alone with them that they left you.”
“You motherfucker. You don’t know me. I hate you.” Tears threatened the man's eyes as he looked at this disturbing zombie of a man that he once needed. The man that he spent countless nights with and countless mornings of cigarettes and one sided regrets where Wilbur would leave in a hurry and Quackity would be alone again.
“Does someone that doesn’t know you know the way you taste?” He took a step closer and Quackity walked back hitting a wall. His breath hitched. “Know your body and even your heart? I remember, don’t think death made me forget the nights where you would just lay and cry. You bore your soul to me. It does seem you are stronger now, that’s good, I personally find that quite hot.”
Wilbur took Quackitys chin in his hand roughly, gripping it with bruising strength. He pulled his head up to look at him and the ravenette gasped at the sadistic glare in Wilburs blood red eyes.
“Let me go.” He growled. In reality he could have easily pulled away and Wilbur might even have let him, but something deep within him liked this. Yearned for Wilbur to ruin him. Needed to be destroyed and pulled apart limb from limb. “I don’t like you, I don’t even lust for you anymore.” A lie.
The smile on the taller man's face faltered for a second before coming back more twisted and wild than before. His eyes lit up with a fire that scared Quackity and yet he wanted it more. He wanted to go so deep he got burned.
“You’re a terrible liar”
And then there was lips on lips, desperately pressing against each other and needing more. Teeth clashed and fingers dug into skin and the anger and pain was poured out. Quackity grabbed Wilburs hair and pulled, Wilbur moaned as he pulled hard enough for his head to fall back and expose his neck which Quackity brutally attacked. He bit and he licked and he sucked until tears were running down his checks. The whole time drinking up Wilburs whimpers and moans feeling in control until he pulled away to look at the damage he created. The taller man's neck was spotted in purple and stark red bruises and marks.
Wilbur took his mouth in his own again and went slowly, moving to make Quackity feel almost comfortable and sweet before biting his lip hard enough to pull blood. The taste of copper filled Quackity’s mouth and he licked in Wilburs to make him taste it. Revenge, hatred, pain, tears, lust, and if you look closely you can see love, adoration, and security in each other's arms.
“You make me sick” Quackity pulled away and wiped his mouth of spit and blood. His eyes were hooded with need and hatred. Wilbur looked back at him with such a perfect grin, his beautiful features twisted into a gesture that should be gorgeous but instead made something evil twist in Quackity’s gut.
“You make me feel alive again.” Wilbur bit his own lip and grabbed Quackity’s hips, rolling his own against them pulling a strangled moan from both of them. “You make me feel human again.”
Something in that sentence snapped in Quackity and the lust in him turned to bitterness. He couldn’t make Wilbur feel anything but unbridled lust. All he was was a distraction and he knew it, he was a distraction for Schlatt too until the president turned to drinking instead. Maybe he was even a distraction for Karl and Sapnap, just someone to fuck when things got boring.
Fist connected to face and he heard the satisfying crack of Wilburs nose. Crimson blood ran down to his lips and Quackity watched as he licked it off, his eyes had a dangerous spark in them that made Quackity feel useless.
“That was good, much stronger than last time you did that. Although maybe death made me weak.” Wilbur winked, his nose still spilling blood. Quackity collapsed onto his knees, hard snow digging into his knees. His hands gripped Wilburs coat tightly and they turned white from the force he was holding the worn fabric.
“Why can’t I hurt you?” he sobbed into the man's coat desperately, “Why can’t you understand the pain I’m feeling right now? Why can’t anything I do affect you?”
Wilburs hard face softened at the words. He wanted to ruin the man in front of him but he couldn’t stand that this is what he did, that he was so broken and scared beyond repair. He knew what it was like, but he also couldn’t give Quackity security. He knew it was selfish but he wanted to keep the smaller man.
“The punch did really hurt” he started softly, picking a shaking Quackity up from his knees, neither man knowing if he was shaking from internal or external pain, “listen, I do know how you’re feeling. You feel like there’s no escape right? You’re destined to be alone?”
Quackity just nodded, blood running from his lip still and drying on his chin. He wasn’t crying but instead looked stone cold.
“I can’t help. I can’t promise you shit, but I can say that I'll live every moment as it comes and I can tell you that I will make you regret ever meeting me.” His voice was steady but his eyes were defensive. He knew what it was like to have a promise broken, to have fake love declared to him. His mind flashed to Sally, someone he loved who left him with nothing but a child and a broken heart. So he made no promises, didn’t declare love or comfort but instead spoke of the one thing he was so familiar with. Regret.
“I already fucking do.” Quackity spoke softly with disdain in his voice. His whole being hated Wilbur, needed him dead again, needed to see him crumble, he swore to himself that no matter what he would ruin the man.
“I know.”
They kissed again, this time almost softer. It was as if they were trying to say things with their lips. Quackity wanted to express his anger, his regrets and his bitter heart. Wilbur put infatuation into his kiss, gently moved his hands to Quackity’s cheeks and held them as he pressed into his lips. He pressed him against the wall and moved his whole body against him while Quackity just let him.
Wilbur pulled away and they were both gasping for air. He ran a hand through his hair and looked at the mess in front of him.
“You consume my every waking thought, Quackity. You have since Niki’s birthday party. Even in that fucking Hell you were in my mind.”
And just as quickly as he had come, he was gone. The only way Quackity knew he was even there was the damp spots on his knees from the snow and the blood on his mouth and chin.
He was alone again and he knew he would be for a long time. Wilbur would be in Snowchester with Philza and the ravenette knew that he had gotten what he came for. He has successfully completely destroyed Quackity’s mind, leaving him as nothing but a shell of who he wanted to be.
Tears streamed down his face and he cried. He cried for hours even as he had no tears left to cry, he still sobbed. His body shook with the pain of being alone. Completely and utterly alone.