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Quackity rushed up the stairs, the only thing stopping him from constantly cursing was his breath running thin from the sudden effort.
Just a moment ago he had been on a party, a flute of champagne in his hand and a fake, wide smile on his face, as he laughed at an unfunny joke. He had thrown this party as a sign of graitude for all the biggest sponsors who were the main reason Las Nevadas could thrive and grow, tempting in more and more naive idiots with big hopes and too much money to spare with promises of riches and great time.
He didn't like any of the people that sponsored his project, but hey, it's not wise to bite the hand that gives. So he sucked it up and plastered a smile on his face, pretending like the filthy rich guys' life stories didn't bore him to death.
Suddenly he saw one of the waiters he had hired for this approaching him. He rised his eyebrow. His flute of champagne was still half-full, so it had to be about something else.
"Boss, some man wanted me to give you this," the waiter informed Quackity in low tone, passing him a piece of paper, a few grey fingerprints visible on its back.
He ignored the questioning looks of his guests, and excused himself. He had a sneaking suspicion he knew who this note was from, and he didn't like that knowledge one bit. He opened the note as soon as he had found himself near a wall, where less people could notice him. His eyes skimmed over the neat cursive.
"My Dearest Quackity!
I hope you're doing well! I see your nation is growing, and I have to admit I'm truly impressed by its immense beauty. Amazing job you've done thus far.
I've noticed that you've thrown a party, and I regret to inform you that my invitation must have gotten lost on its way, as I haven't received it. Fortunately I've learned about it in time, and managed to free my schedule to attend it.
I have prepared a surprise for you! Come join me on the roof to see what it is. I'm sure it will blow your mind!
With love,
Wilbur ♡"
Quackity stared at the small heart after Wilbur's signature, the paper crumpling slightly from his tightened grasp on it. He tried not to show the panic that rose in him, as he forced himself to walk calmly towards the exit.
As soon as the door closed behind him he broke into a run. He ignored the lift in favor of choosing the emergency staircase. Who know what Wilbur could have done to the closed off metal box of easy death.
Before he reached the top floor, he had already regretted the decision to take the stairs at least thrice. He tried to persuade himself that better tired than dead, but his lungs and leg muscles loudly disagreed.
He finally reached the door that were the only obstacle left between him and the rooftop. He opened it without hesitance, the handle making a loud sound from the impact with the wall.
Quackity didn't need to search much to find Wilbur.
He was sitting on the edge of the rootftop, good twenty or so meters from Quackity's current position. There was a lit cigarette in his mouth, and, thankfully, an unlit fuse in his hand. He twirled it in his fingers, as his lips stretched in a welcoming smile upon noticing the newcomer.
"Big Q!" He chimmed cheerfully, his head tilting slightly. "So glad you accepted my invitation."
Quackity took a step towards him, but Wilbur's next words stopped him from making another.
"Nuh-uh, not a step more, or you're going to ruin the surprise." Tutted Wilbur, swiftly pulling a lighter from the pocket of his coat and lighting it. Quackity froze, as his eyes transfixed on the small flame, merely centimeters away from the fuse.
"Wilbur. Let's- let's talk about it. Drop the lighter." Quackity tried to negotiate, his voice trembling despite an attempt to keep it steady and reasonable.
Wilbur pouted, like he was ten and denied candy. "Aww, but that would ruin the surprise! And I've prepared it just for you!"
Quackity's eyes quickly skimmed over the packages secured around the rooftop. He could barely see them in the deep shadows that the streetlights below them casted. He looked up nervously, a droplet of sweat trickling down his forehead.
"Listen, let's not make haste decisions and talk this through, yeah? Just give me the lighter." He tried to persuade the other man, honestly more worried about the cost of renovating the building than anything else. Oh, and also his own life. That was an important thing to worry about too.
Wilbur hummed. "You seem really determined to have it. Well then, catch." He threw the lighter, and Quackity's eyes traced its arch in the air.
In his sudden relief he didn't notice how Wilbur brought the fuse closer to his lips. Only when he had caught the damn lighter did he realize what the other man was doing. He could only watch in horror as Wilbur pressed the end of the fuse to the lit end of his cigarette and inhaled deeply, making it shine bright red in the darkness.
It worked. The fuse sparked, then came to life. Quackity dropped the damned lighter, rushing in its direction in hope to put it out before it reaches its destination.
Wilbur let go of the fuse, letting it fall to the floor, as the sparks quickly consumed the line. He looked at Quackity running in its direction, and smiled, taking a few steps to meet him halfway. As he rushed by, Wilbur's arm sneaked around his waist, and using the momentum he spinned both of them in a half-pirouette, making Quackity stumble in the direction he had just ran from. He smiled widely at the panicked man.
"Wanna dance? Should've just asked, darling."
Quackity ignored him, as with raising dread he realized it was too late to do anything, the thick fuse split into several smaller sparks, as they travelled quickly to their assigned packs.
Quackity hunched his shoulders and covered his ears, tensing right before the explosion tore his body apart.
Except it didn't.
The loud booming sound came from above him, a bright flash visible even through his squeezed eyelids.
He opened his eyes slowly, looking up in confusion. Another booming sound rang through, as another big, bright firework bloomed on the night sky.
In his shock, Quackity barely registered the laugh that came from the other man.
"Oh, my poor, dear Quackity. What did you think I was going to do? Blow up your beloved country? I would never." He exclaimed heartily, coming closer to the dumbfounded president.
The winged man hadn't even fully registered the terrorist approaching him until he was pulled into a heated kiss. His brain shortcircuited once again upon feeling the dry, chapped lips on his own, his mind unable to keep up with the most unexpected events happening one after another.
Before he had managed to collect his wits, the kiss was already over. He looked up, still too shocked to be mad about it. Wilbur smiled back in amusement.
"Happy New Year!" He chirped happily.
That worked like a bucked of ice-cold water for Quackity, waking him up from his stupor. He felt his emotions catching up, sudden embarrassment and rage washing over him. He pushed on the way-too-close man before him, making him stumble backwards, as he felt his cheeks burning in the cold night.
"What- Why would you- Why-" he tried to demand an explanation, but only unintelligible half-sentences came out of his mouth, his brain too occupied with sudden emotions and blood rushing to his face to manage to create a proper question.
Wilbur only smiled in response, passing him and walking towards the door. On his way he reached down, grabbing the discarded lighter on his way.
"That was fun. Hope you'll reconsider my request about my stay here! 'Till the next time, dearest!" He waved him goodbye, and just like that, he was gone.
Quackity stood on the roof, too bewildered to move, the only things breaking the silence being the last fireworks lighting up the nightsky.
He raised a hand to his lips. He felt his cheeks heating up more as he recalled the feeling of Wilbur's lips on his own. He clicked his tongue, pulling away his hand in embarrassment.
"Wilbur, you idiot, it's fucking November." He mumbled, the last firework the only thing that answered him on the empty rooftop.