Chapter Text
Quackity's glare was sharp, harsh, nothing short of hate-filled. But Wilbur couldn't help the flush of his skin starting at the base of his neck.
This was not supposed to be happening. He wasn't supposed to be getting hot over Quackity's glare and clenched jaw. Or his fists pulling at his shirt as he yells at Wilbur for pissing him off again. But, here he is.
Here he is, leaning against a counter in the casino while Quackity presses into his space. It reminds him of when he had Quackity pinned against a wall at Tubburger once, the angry expressions and lack of distance. It feels similar.
Quackity's voice brings him back as the shorter man says his name, making him blink.
"I'll be honest with you." Wilbur has a shit-eating grin on his face. "I have no clue what you said just then. All I heard was my name."
And so Quackity huffs at the revived man. Rolling his eyes with a slight shake of his head. But Quackity shouldn't have. He should know that every time he rolls his eyes, (which was a fucking lot), Wilbur gets even redder and his mind pauses for a second.
"It's nothing you don't already know," Quackity says, grip loosening and backing up a bit. Which Wilbur doesn't like. Something about Quackity makes Wilbur's chest burn with something new. Something Wilbur's curious about enough to want to figure it out.
So when Quackity's farther from him, even if only the slightest, he misses that burn. So he frowns when Quackity's back is now facing him. Now he has to work to get it to return.
"Tell me," he begins, hoping it's the right way to go. "What do you think I know?"
The response was immediate, "That I fucking hate you."
"Oh." Wilbur wanted a bit more but he has to work with it. "Don't worry Big Q, I hate you too."
Wilbur looks down at the top of Quackity's beanie, waiting for a response. His eyes follow his dark hair that rests right above his shoulders. But then Wilbur starts to wonder what it would feel like to reach out. Place his hands on Quackity's shoulder and slid them down his perfect figure, until Quackity's hands are in his.
But instead, Quackity turns around just to ask- no tell him to leave the casino. But Wilbur very much doesn't want to. He's desperate for something he's not sure of. He's just sure of the fact that Quackity's the only one who can give it to him. He can feel it.
"How about a drink?" Wilbur suggests in an attempt to stay in the other's presence. "Relax a bit, Big Q!"
He's walking behind the counter while Quackity stays put, looking at him with dissatisfaction. But Wilbur doesn't care, he just wants to have Quackity's attention, he just wants to be near him.
So when Quackity sighs, dragging himself over to the bar Wilbur doesn't hide the wide grin it gave him.
"You're not getting any alcohol though," Quackity tells him as he joins his side. His hands reach out to a bottle of wine, quickly switching to iced water instead. "Neither of us are. I'm not going to have us under the influence."
"But I wanted to offer you a drink-"
"Yeah, a drink from my bar that's in my casino. You would just be handing me my own shit, Wilbur."
Wilbur holds back his remark as he watches Quackity pour two cups of cold water. His eyes linger on Quackity's hands and he wishes he could hold them, then spin Quackity around and pull him closer. Then raise a hand to-
Wilbur puts a stop to his growing imagination there, shoving his hands in the pocket of his trench coat- just in case.
He only takes a hand out when Quackity's presenting him a cup of water, taking it quickly. Now Quackity's leaning against the counter, elbows on the cold surface as he faces Wilbur.
It makes Wilbur pause for a moment. Quackity just standing there, arms to the side. It feels exposing compared to the crossed arms Wilbur is normally greeted with. He hates how he's stuck on little things like this.
"This is all you're gonna get," Quackity says before taking a small sip. "Just water."
"You're a boring man." Wilbur groans but he doesn't really care. He cares that Quackity isn't as close as he wants him to be. The distance, being two feet, it purposefully teases Wilbur.
"Then leave," Quackity says. Of course he says that. How predictable. "My job here isn't to keep you entertained." Quackity's voice is harsh and cold and absolutely not what Wilbur wants.
"What? You gonna shove me against something again if I stay here?" Wilbur plays with a grin, but it's more of a request than anything. He could drop to his knees right about now and start praying to prime that Quackity would. Just about anything would work for Wilbur right now, he just needs Quackity to be closer to him.
Quackity hums, pretending to be thinking as he taps the counter. "No, I'll simply call Sam to throw you out."
"Oh, right," Wilbur scoffs. "Because you aren't capable of doing such yourself so you gotta call big strong Sam to haul me out-"
"Test me," is all Quackity says, setting his water down on the counter with his gaze set on Wilbur. But it's not really getting its message across but Wilbur feels even more desperate with the way Quackity's looking at him. Eyes only focusing on Wilbur, it was exciting. The same happens with Quackity's words, Wilbur's taking the message a bit differently than intended with how he steps closer to him, wondering if this is how he gets what his mind has been looming over.
And so he does test Quackity. Inching closer with his eyes focused on Quackity and now he's standing right in front of the man. Quackity scrunches his face a bit, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow.
"What are you doing?" he asks and the reply from Wilbur is instant, playing with a smirk.
"I'm testing you."
And Quackity just looks done with Wilbur's behaviour, all of his extra meanings under his words. So all he gives is an eyeroll. "What are you aiming at? What do you want?"
"To get something from you," Wilbur admits, slipping past his lips while keeping eye contact with Quackity. So he presses closer, almost stepping on the other's fancy dress shoes. "And only you."
And Quackity's taking the hint, straightening his posture as Wilbur reaches his hands to either side of Quackity, resting them on the counter. Now his mind is faintly recalling the small flush on Wilbur's cheeks when he had him pressed against the bar earlier, and when he looks up at Wilbur, it seemed to be crawling up from his neck again. Which makes Quackity bit his lip, feeling the own burn inside of him startup when he thinks about what Wilbur's implying.
"Then why don't you come get it?" he tells him, and he wants to cringe at how it sounded like a plea more than anything- or just the thought he sounded cringe in general. But the way Wilbur's eyes go wide for a second is enough to get rid of that. So they look at each other, both letting the tension boil up for a bit until Wilbur can't take it anymore.
He snaps as he closes the gap, not hesitating to crash their lips together. And as his hands lower to gently hold onto Quackity's hips, Quackity kisses back. With just as much burning passion that Wilbur had.
Wilbur's mind is already spinning in fast circles and they were just passionately kissing, still it feels like a big rush that he was more than happy to get more of.
It was Quackity's hands reaching up to Wilbur's hair, tugging gently as if testing it out. And Wilbur only leans into the touch, Quackity tugs a bit harder. It was the way Quackity tasted so intriguing to Wilbur, as if his tongue itself was telling a story that he was sure excited to listen to.
Chewed fabric. The taste of your clothing in your mouth. Wilbur could very faintly tell Quackity had previously had some piece of his clothing in his mouth. Out of stress? Most definitely, and a part of Wilbur wanted to dive deeper into the never-ending hole of Quackity's emotions, try and solve them.
And a pinch of cinnamon. Wilbur's not sure how, but there was a taste of cinnamon on his tongue as he kisses Quackity. He honestly thought Quackity didn't like cinnamon, oh well.
It's the taste, it's Quackity's hands tugging at his hair. It's the feeling of Quackity's skin under his own, exploring hands. It's the fact that he's so close to Quackity, chests pressed together in a sense of desperation.
And this is it. This is what Wilbur was so desperately trying to get. This is what Quackity could give him over and over and over and Wilbur would never grow tired of it. He most certainly doesn't think he could get bored with this.
So when Quackity pulls away, Wilbur has to shove down the minor disappointment that pokes him. Quackity's small and soft smile is enough to get rid of it.
"Wow, Soot. I thought you'd be pretty rusty," Quackity drops casually. "But I'll hand it to you, you're not out of practice at all."
Wilbur can't help as he blushes deeply at the dumb remark, turning his head away and staring at the wall intently as if it would save the embarrassment from how flustered he is. But his efforts are pointless as Quackity slings an arm back around Wilbur's neck.
"It was a compliment, Wilbur," Quackity says calmly, and Wilbur only melts at the way Quackity squeezes his shoulder. Everything still hasn't lost its warmth and Wilbur can only focus on each and every touch or feeling or even sound in this little bubble. A bubble of just him and Quackity, as he nods at the other.
"Thank you- for the compliment," He manages, leaning into Quackity with relaxed shoulders. His arms wrap back around Quackity, hands rubbing the other's back slowly as he hums. "I suppose."
"You seem a lot calmer, huh?"
"What do you mean?"
Quackity leans back to look Wilbur in the eyes, a playful glint that Wilbur finds he adores. "Well look at you," Quackity starts, gaze falling up and down Wilbur before it returns to his own. "Before you were biting back at anything I said. Now you just nod and blush."
"What?" Wilbur doesn't know how, but his cheeks feel warmer at the new feeling stirring in his chest. Quackity's words certainly switched something on in his brain, but he can't figure out what. It only worsens when Quackity chuckles at him, an amused expression on his face. So he tries to prove him wrong, swallowing any nervousness he felt. "Well you were just yelling at me earlier, now you're complimenting me and letting me kiss you."
Quackity doesn't even falter, making Wilbur mentally frown. He only shrugs in mocked defeat. "Guess you're right. So observational."
"So sarcastic," Wilbur retorts with a huff. But Quackity only lifts his hand to cuff Wilbur's cheek, making his demeanour melt into nothing but adoration and want as he hums.
"Come one, Wilbur, you're one of the most sarcastic people I know," Quackity says with a tilt of his head and a playful smile. But really- Wilbur was one of the most sarcastic fuckers out there.
Wilbur only grins in response, standing up straight to look down at Quackity as his hands pull him closer, chests flushed against each other once more. "Well, I could say the same for you, Quackity."
When Quackity rolls his eyes in response Wilbur's pride only grows as he leans closer, bumping their foreheads with a giggle. "You know it's true."
Wilbur notices the way Quackity stalls, either because of his words or his actions. Either way, Wilbur feels satisfied that he managed.
"Sure sure," Quackity simply mumbles, leaning back to kiss Wilbur ever so gently on the cheek. Wilbur blinks at the gesture, immediately accepting more of those feather-light kisses as he thinks of what do to.
An idea pops into his head and he hesitates before reaching past Quackity to press one of the many buttons on a pad on the counter. Quackity doesn't even realize, not until the first beats of an old classical song pick up making him pause for a second.
"W-Did you just put on fucking music?" He asks, though Wilbur notes how he sounds more flustered than offended, it's a win. Wilbur nods, dropping one hand to Quackity's waist as the other sneaks into Quackity's free hand.
"Sure did, darling," he says with a floppy smile, making the first move into the dance as he steps right. Quackity follows without thinking, groaning as he agrees to dance.
Wilbur's heart hammers in his chest as he looks at Quackity, those mismatching eyes looking right back. Everything only grows warmer and fuzzier the longer he's with Quackity. And as they both step to the left, moving a bit farther from the counter at the same time, Wilbur feels something a bit more than desire.
The feeling only intensifies when Quackity smiles gently, letting Wilbur spin him and he's caught in the way Quackity looks before pulling him back. Quackity's eyes met his, both men blushing as they try to drown their pulsing hearts in the relaxing tunes of the default classical music the casino offered.
And Wilbur knows he's gonna have to think about this when he leaves. Quackity too, he'll sit in his office and wander over everything that happened while Wilbur sits in his house across from Las Nevadas.
But for now, they let themselves enjoy the warmth buzzing between them as they move to dance in the dimly light opening of the casino, white marble and red carpet as an orchestra of instruments play through the room with a soothing tone. And for now, it's the only thing they need.