Chapter Text
Fenton was too tired to get up and find the remote when the episode ended, and the next one immediately started.
And frankly, he didn’t want to.
So he yawned, and shifted a little, his eyes flicking to the clock. 11:24 p.m.. By his and Gyro’s standards, quite early.
Speaking of which, the other reason Fenton didn’t want to get up off the couch was because there was a chicken currently curled up on his chest, gently snoring, his hair messy and his glasses askew.
Fenton reached down and pulled the glasses off, placing them slightly under the couch so they wouldn’t get stepped on whenever either of them got up. He looked down again, grinning at the sight of the sleeping bird, and let his other hand drop back down to brush through Gyro’s already mussed hair.
He loved it when Gyro was like this, calm and peaceful-looking, his face without its usual scowl (granted, Fenton saw that face less and less often now, but it was still common). The chicken’s guard was down, completely reliant on Fenton as he nuzzled into him.
“Love you,” Fenton murmured.
Gyro shifted a little, mumbling something unintelligible. He tilted his head up farther so his beak was just brushing the base of Fenton’s neck, his legs tangling further in the duck’s.
Fenton smiled, then let his head drop back to look at the TV, hoping he would eventually be carried off into that sleepy bliss as well.
He was nearly asleep when there came a voice from above his head.
“Aw, he’s so cute when he’s asleep.”
Fenton started, managing to hold in a squeak. Gyro grumbled in protest to the sudden movement, but didn’t wake up.
The Mad Ducktor was standing above both of them, leaning against the back of the couch, a soft look on his face. “Hey, don’t do that, you’ll wake him up!”
Fenton sputtered. “Wh- wha- how did you even get in here?”
The Mad Ducktor shrugged. “Eh, came in through the back window. And be quiet, you’ll wake him up.”
“But like… how did you get past the security?” The security around their house was nearly double that of the Bin’s, mostly because it was a smaller space, and also because Gyro lived there, and would tinker and add onto it whenever he had nothing to do.
“The override password was 1234, Gizzy.” The Mad Ducktor told him in a sarcastic voice. “Figuring out how to get in here was one of the hardest things I've ever done.”
Fenton glared. “We set that thinking you wouldn’t guess such a simple password.”
“Well, it didn’t work.” The chicken scoffed. He looked back down at Gyro, and his annoyed gaze softened. “But he really is cute when he’s asleep. All peaceful and vulnerable.” He pulled the glove off of his right, non-robot hand and brushed his bare fingers gently down the side of Gyro’s face.
Fenton had to agree, he yawned, tilting his head back. He didn’t notice the Mad Ducktor lean down and press a soft, tender kiss against Gyro’s temple, his lipstick leaving a black mark. He only saw the clone pulling away, and swatted at his face. “Hey, I know he wouldn't want you doing that, and he’s my boyfriend!”
The Mad Ducktor smirked. “Hm. Yes.” He stepped away from the back of the couch, walking further into the house.
“What are you doing?” Fenton called after him. Due to the chicken laying half on top of him he couldn’t shift far enough to see what the dark-cloaked bird was up to.
“Oh, nothing.” Came the answer, but Fenton heard the refrigerator door being pulled open. “Mind if I raid your fridge?”
“Yes! Get out of there!”
Further rustling, which meant that the Mad Ducktor had ignored him.
“Can I have this leftover spaghetti?”
“No, I was going to have that for lunch… Never mind.” Fenton trailed off as the fridge door shut, and he could hear the Mad Ducktor rooting around for a plate. The microwave was opened, something placed inside, shut, and started.
The Mad Ducktor walked back over to them, leaning on the back of the couch again, smirking. “Find something else then.”
“You really just came over at midnight to go through our fridge?” Fenton asked, annoyed. “I should turn you in.”
“Yes, but then you’d wake up Gyro, and you and I both know how little good sleep he gets. And your leftover homemade spaghetti is better than midnight fast food, so yes.” He reached his hand down to brush through Gyro’s hair. Fenton tried to smack it away, but the Mad Ducktor pulled back just in time, smirking.
“He really is both adorable and stunning,” he said, leaning on his knuckles.
“What… you have the same face!” Fenton pointed out, confused.
“Yeah but I have these,” he brushed his fingers along the constant bags under his eyes. “And these.” Now a finger along the side of his cheek, where Black Heron had scarred him. The scars were faint now, hardly discernible through the feathers. Besides, with it being dark, Fenton definitely couldn’t see them. “And besides, he just finds a way to pull it off better.”
Fenton couldn’t deny it. Though they had the same face, there was something so unique about both of them that made them seem like completely different people.
The microwave beeped, and the chicken turned back to go get his food. “Got any muffins?” He called behind him.
Fenton sighed, giving in to the inevitable without much of a fight. “Top left in the pantry, in the back.”
“Ugh, banished to the back of the pantry, how could you? Do you have a heart?” Came the bird’s teasing voice.
Fenton rolled his eyes and didn’t answer.
After lots of rustling (Fenton could’ve sworn he heard at least two or three things being dropped), and the microwave being started again, the Mad Ducktor returned with a plate of steaming spaghetti, two warm muffins and a fork. He came around to the front of the couch, sitting cross-legged on the floor with his back against the brown fabric.
“Oh, the Mandalorian.” The Mad Ducktor said, looking at the TV. The volume was turned down pretty low. “You seriously haven’t watched this yet? What about WandaVision? Or Loki?”
“We have, we’re just rewatching it. And we haven’t started those yet, we need to though.” Fenton looked at him. “You have Disney Plus?”
“And that’s shocking because...?” The chicken replied, resting his head back farther.
“And you’re the one paying for the streaming?”
“Yes, why is that so hard to believe?”
“Well, you just came to our house at eleven thirty so you could steal two muffins and a plate of two-day-old spaghetti, so I feel like you’re not paying for many things.”
“Fair point. Yes, I am paying for it, using the money from that bank robbery the Beagle Boys pulled a week or so back. You're welcome for that, by the way.”
Fenton remembered that with a small frown. The Beagle Boys had robbed the bank, and Fenton had been busy finishing a project and hadn’t heard the call on the armor until it was too late. By the time Gizmoduck had arrived on the scene, the perps had been apprehended, tied up with a bright purple ribbon and a neat bow. Half of the money was missing, and there was a little card with a smug ‘you’re welcome’ written on it, along with a muffin scrawled in the corner. The reporters hadn’t really been sure what to think of it, but Fenton knew exactly who’d done it.
They watched in silence for a while, the Mad Ducktor finishing his food, before one of the cats came strutting around the corner.
The one rubbing against the couch now was Lucifer, the very mean black and grey fluffy cat. He seemed to dislike both Gyro and Fenton, but still came and ate their food.
Fenton almost warned the Mad Ducktor about how much of a jerk the cat would be, but decided to keep silent and see how this would play out.
To his astonishment, Lucifer sauntered right over to the Mad Ducktor, rubbing his head against the chicken’s elbow, purring.
“Aw, who are you?” The Mad Ducktor asked, stroking the cat’s ears. He looked up at Fenton. “Who’s this? They’re new.”
“That’s Lucifer,” Fenton replied, too surprised to say anything else.
“What a little devil you are,” the purple-haired bird said to the cat, teasingly. “What are you talking about, he’s so sweet!” He lifted him into his lap. “Oof- I guess this isn’t just all fur.”
Instantly, Lucifer curled up in the chicken’s lap and kept purring. If anyone else had done that, they would’ve been bitten and scratched several times, and Lucifer would be haughtily leaving the room. Fenton just shook his head and looked back at the TV.
He didn’t miss the Mad Ducktor’s hand coming up to run his fingers down the side of Gyro’s arm, but at that point he was too tired to do much about it other than try to bat the hand away. But of course, it just came back. Pretty soon there were two snoring chickens in the room.
Fenton couldn’t help but smile as he shifted to a more comfortable position, his hand coming back up to card through Gyro’s hair. Gyro shifted in his sleep a little as well, his hand coming to rest right on top of Fenton's. The duck grinned.
As he drifted off to sleep, he wondered about what they’d do in the morning if the Mad Ducktor was still there.
Tomorrow was Sunday, they’d probably make waffles.