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Wilbur strolled through Las Nevadas with his head held up high, the evening light casting down on him as he made his way over to the still-glistening water fountain.
There was a nice breeze, it constantly brushed over his cheeks and snipped at his ears which he didn't mind at all.
It only helped remind him just how alive he was.
Same with how the smooth stone bordering the fountain felt under his fingertips, refreshingly cold and splotched with water. Or maybe the way the white sand got under his fingernails and in his boots every time he knelt down and sunk his hands in it- just to feel it.
But what really sealed the confirmation that this man was alive and what really made his heart start beating wasn't as simple.
Maybe that's just because it was a person and people aren't always as simple especially when compared to something like stone and maybe it's because this person was rather complicated and Wilbur still hasn't given up on trying to solve them while also having an odd and restrained connection with them.
Or maybe it was both.
Either way their presence made Wilbur feel alive more than anything else in this man-made desert.
That was why he was here after all, for Quackity.
The one honest confession that Quackity made Wilbur not only feel alive but… well, just feel in general was why he was sauntering up to the big fancy double doors of the grand casino in Las Nevadas.
The black asphalt was sprinkled with sand as he stepped back onto the road.
The sun barely reached him with its warmth, leaving the shadow of the huge building even chillier.
He eyed the red and blue glass windows full of random glass art, honestly, he couldn't tell what it was. Though he could tell the fancy white quartz pillars on the outside of the doors were a nice touch, so was the gold accent this whole casino had.
Not that Quackity cared, but Wilbur thought this place wasn't too bad in terms of looks.
Definitely got somebody's eyes and attention. And that's what a casino's supposed to do, right?
Yes and that was all behind it as Wilbur opened the doors of the building with the hopes that Quackity was in fact here.
Quackity, the person responsible for creating such a place like this as Wilbur walked in, the sound of his boots on tile echoing as the doors closed behind him with an empty small thud.
The main area consisted of space that was meant for lots and lots of tables, where people would soon gamble, drink and eat.
Then off to the right, there was a bar and a couple of ordering stations that had yet to be used. To the left there was a load of slot machines and really any other gambling game you might find in a casino.
Of course, though, because Quackity built this place, there was a small door off to the very far right with the words Employees Only on it. Now, this was like Quackity because of course there was something Quackity had unavailable, some place Wilbur couldn't go even if he made it this far into the country.
But that was just a metaphor, nothing serious because it wasn't literal, of course.
Now getting back to matters, Wilbur walked across the dimly lit room over to the bar, tracing the smooth surface over before he made his way over to the employee's door.
With practiced silence, he took the door handle with a sneaky hand and pulled it open slowly, then, he slipped in.
The door simply had Wilbur now standing in a thin hallway that he had to admit made him feel exposed under the much brighter light in his dark long trench coat.
So he ignored that bit and walked straight up to a dark oak wooden door on his right, already playing a guessing game with himself about what Quackity might possibly be doing behind this door.
Twisting the doorknob and pushing it open, Wilbur was met with a room he's only seen once (that's why he went there to find Quackity).
A warm yellow light buzzed from the ceiling, casting a dim light across the deep purple carpeted floor and all the furniture- which consisted of a bookshelf behind a brown leather couch, a coffee table in front of the said couch, and then a desk and fancy black chair placed on the other side of the small room with some filing cabinets.
And sure enough, on the edge of the couch was a slumped-over Quackity, beanie brought over his eyes and a blanket thrown over his raised shoulders that wrapped around his back.
Wilbur closed the door with a click as a smile pulled at his lips, "There you are."
Quackity snapped up at the interruption and his eyes widened ever so slightly at the sight of Wilbur before he frowned and quickly fixed up his beanie.
"Soot?" He asked, seeming baffled and strangely enough, there was no pinch of anger or annoyance.
Probably because he was genuinely confused.
"Hey Quackity," Wilbur said calmly, stuffing one hand in his pocket as he stepped into the room further. "I was looking for you, ya know?"
"Why?" Quackity questioned and Wilbur couldn't help but pause for a second at how odd his voice sounded. Something about the lack of bite and snap from Quackity rubbed Wilbur the wrong way.
But he had only been here for not even a minute, so he brushed it off and stepped closer as he eyed the bookshelf behind Quackity.
"Oh come on, Quackity. I just wanted to see you," He said with a fake pout. He tilted his head, a questioning smile on his face. "Can I not do that?"
The thing was technically, no he couldn't do that because Quackity had told him on numerous occasions that he didn't want him around here. Still, Wilbur didn't exactly listen.
Quackity seemed to flicker back into his uptight and strict self as he crossed his arms, yet another barrier in between them.
"Based on what I've told you, no," Quackity said with a mumble.
Wilbur sighed and his shoulders slumped as he looked down at the floor. "A shame," He said, glancing back up at Quackity. "You really looked like you could use the company."
Quackity stiffened, and the room fell to stifling silence as Wilbur pondered over what that was about.
He cleared his throat, stepping over a throw pillow that had fallen onto the ground and stood in front of Quackity who had his eyes trained on the floor.
Somehow Quackity had managed to make a half of a foot feel like ten feet by ignoring Wilbur. Not that it was new or anything.
However, it remained very unappreciated.
Wilbur huffed, the low hum of a machine filling the empty and stale air until he thought it was no longer needed and sat down next to Quackity.
The sound of fabric and leather lasted for only so long, then, Wilbur sighed dramatically, splayed his arms on the top of the couch and turned his head towards Quackity.
"You know," He started with an ever so slightly teasing tone that was nearly too faint to recognize at first. "This is very boring."
Seconds passed, Wilbur thought he wouldn't get an answer but sure enough Quackity adjusted himself, shoulders still incredibly stiff like he was forcing it, and peeked up at Wilbur.
"Nothing I gotta care about," He muttered grumpily, clasping his hands together and blinking and his volume lowered. "I don't have the energy to deal with you."
Satisfied enough with the single fact that he wasn't being ignored, Wilbur scoffed sarcastically with a small playful smile, "Deal with me? Quackity I am simply a tolerable companion to fight that lonely look on your face."
If Quackity was truly out of energy than he gained a tiny bit when he rolled his eyes, trapping Wilbur's attention for a moment before he remembered to look away.
"Prime, Wilbur, you know how much of an annoying prick you can be, don't lie," Quackity said tiredly, lifting his hand to his mouth, palm facing outwards and Wilbur saw the start of a pained expression just barely form before Quackity seemed to acknowledge Wilbur once more and shifted his weight more to the right of the couch.
Curiosity seeped into Wilbur's eyes as they scanned over the other, making sure not to get distracted by the way the white thin fabric of his button-up shirt looked compared to the tanned skin of his forearm or the side profile Quackity was sparingly giving him by simply refusing to face him.
"Fine," Wilbur said bluntly, ignoring the softer curve of his voice because it was probably not even there, no way. Still, a sense of honest admission filled his words. "I know I can be pretty annoying…" Quackity glanced over at him with speculation and something about his mismatched eyes put Wilbur in the nerve-racking spotlight as if he knew things about Wilbur not even he himself knew. It made Wilbur feel the need to sit up straight as he fought the imaginary weight on his shoulders. But Quackity's eyes were still on him, examining him just like he'd done earlier.
Then, finally, Wilbur cleared his throat and sunk back into the couch almost like he was backing down. "And I mean, I was also coming here to… mainly annoy you."
And of course Quackity leaned back like he was expecting exactly those words, making Wilbur realize just how often they switch up on each other. When he first got here Quackity was trying his best to ignore Wilbur who simply wouldn't have it, now, here Quackity was making him admit things.
But, to be fair, they both knew Wilbur would eventually show up to annoy Quackity so it wasn't anything deep.
So Wilbur decided to treat it as such, shrugging it off and diverting the attention back to Quackity.
"So, anything new with you?" He blurted out the question, realizing afterwards that it was the result of opening his mouth before allowing any sort of thought process to be executed.
Quackity snorted bluntly like there was a joke behind Wilbur's question, which, truth be told, there was not. Or, maybe, Quackity found a certain sense of irony. Again, he was in the know when Wilbur was not.
"Well, it's not much of your business," Quackity said in mock friendliness, immediately souring Wilbur's expression while simultaneously raising his level of curiosity.
Quackity and all his damn half-answers. His ridiculous mysteries and secrets.
Wilbur bit his tongue, holding his breath before he was once again admitting something.
He wanted to know every one of those secrets and he wanted to tear down each stifling barricade Quackity had put up.
He wanted to know Quackity.
Really, really know Quackity.
The unknown reasons that keep Wilbur guessing, popped up in his mind at the most inconvenient of times to distract him for a good while as he thought about the president of a country he had been rejected from.
The man that was currently sitting right next to him while attempting to be hidden as he winced at something and his shoulders tensed and raised impossibly more.
That made a little switch in Wilbur's brain flip on, his suspicion was only confirmed as Quackity just barely bit down on his lip.
Out of pain.
Not that Wilbur was instantly full of great concern, but his lips curled down into a small frown as he went over what to say in his head. Then,
"I'm starting to sense something other than just loneliness," Wilbur said slowly, noticing the way Quackity paused all operations of his body, maybe even his lungs, before he blinked over at Wilbur who gave a smug smile because he fucking got him.
He most definitely had gotten Quackity with the way he was staring at Wilbur as if the revived man was an official telling him the exact crime he had committed less than a month ago thinking no one was going to figure him out.
Which was funny because Quackity was a president of an almost empty and barren country.
"Because I'm just oh so lonely, huh?" Quackity questioned sharply, an eyebrow arched up as his scar insinuated the bite in his tone. He was getting defensive.
Wilbur shrugged. "Yeah, you kinda do. But I'm also getting something else."
"You're fucking with me after I told you I didn't have the energy for any of this?" Quackity asked- well, more so stated with disappointed disbelief as he crossed his arms again.
"No," Wilbur said plainly, he said it honestly but Quackity's expression didn't change one bit as Wilbur's eyes glanced over the man once before he tilted his head. "You injured?"
Much to Wilbur's surprise, Quackity's shoulders practically twitched in a very non-possible way under the blanket and Quackity bowed his head down in silent humiliation.
Wilbur paused to evaluate what exactly just happened. Then, when he processed it, his eyes lit up slightly and his memory flickered to life.
"Quackity?" Wilbur called his name in utmost baffling confusion until it settled in. "Shit, oh-" He gestured towards Quackity who sunk further into the couch. "You have wings!"
"Yeah, yeah," Quackity said dismissively, physically lazily waving Wilbur away to fight the embarrassment and defeat written across his face. Wilbur pointedly ignored the warmth that came from this knowledge.
Quackity hadn't shown his wings in ages- not even right now. Wilbur was fortunate enough to remember.
How many people still remember Quackity had wings?
It felt like a secret. That Wilbur now knew and not Quackity alone.
He was being dragged closer and closer to Quackity to unlock all these doors he had and this was one door opened.
However, Quackity was also hurting.
Wilbur would never admit how that affected him.
So instead he hid his reaction with a grimace. "Dude, you should take the blanket off if your wings hurt. Idiot."
Quackity sputtered out a list of offended noises and shook his head. "No, no," He said firmly. "Plus what would you know about fucking wings."
Quackity watched with complete dissatisfaction as Wilbur's brown furrowed and he glanced down at the couch.
Then, Wilbur shrugged once more and quietly answered, "Phil."
"Oh yeah." Quackity was still skeptical though. He was even more hesitant, eyes fleeting across the room as Wilbur's own eyes traced the curves under fabric that were so obviously wings.
Prime, what did they even look like now?
Wilbur found himself imagining them, Quackity standing there in a navy blue windbreaker, one that he hadn't worn since Pogtopia. Then, dull and thin… brown maybe? Maybe.
Maybe brown wings dusted with black and white.
Wilbur didn't know if that would fit Quackity or not. Screw his memory. He knew Quackity had wings but he was struggling to remember what they looked like.
Strangely enough, Wilbur ended up gingerly reaching a slow hand out to Quackity.
Quackity's body radiated warmth compared to the stale air as Wilbur leaned in slightly.
"So your wings hurt?" He asked with one too many hints of care that had him mentally wincing when Quackity glanced up at him.
Calculated consideration and a sharp gaze was what Wilbur got as the silence brought weight to the space between them.
Finally, Quackity sighed.
"They're extremely uncomfortable," He muttered, words tumbling out and he didn't know if he even wanted them to. But to Wilbur it was a step further and another tiny moment of vulnerability he would be thinking about once he left Las Nevadas.
Wilbur almost faltered as he thought of what he should say, how to go about this to avoid any backward steps.
"Could you…?" Wilbur couldn't even finish the question as he nudged Quackity's side gently to which Quackity loosened up a bit, creating a moment of silence for the break in character they normally played.
Quackity's hesitancy was prominent in his voice as his lashes fluttered up at Wilbur. "I- listen, I'm not sure if-"
"No pressure," Wilbur quickly slipped in, though, his face deepened and he said, "But this would be good for them."
Carefully, Quackity thought, much to Wilbur's liking.
Then Quackity's face was hidden with his arm before he stumbled out an "If you're gonna, then yeah." Somehow, he had managed to pull a decently composed and nonchalant voice even as they both sneaked glances at each other at those words.
So Wilbur took a deep breath and acted like he wasn't affected either. Even when his fingertips burned when he reached up to the blanket.
Even when Quackity nodded. Wilbur could right now. His heart was at a totally normal speed because their close proximity didn't mean anything.
Wilbur pulled the blanket off, tossing it to the side before the end of it slipped out of his hand as he saw Quackity's wings.
They twitched and involuntarily tried to stretch out of their confines as warm yellow fluffy feathers met the air.
Quackity tucked his face away whereas Wilbur stood there with a great case of shock and awe.
Not only were Quackity's wings such a gorgeous yellow, but they switched to dark yet gentle browns in the middle, near his hidden, feather-covered wing plate.
Even with how ruffled they were, even with the most definitely loose feathers, Wilbur's chest bloomed at the fact that he was seeing such a wonderful thing.
Just him and Quackity. Quackity who was trusting him and Wilbur who was carefully running a finger over a feather to be pleasantly surprised at how soft they were. And they both let it happen.
It felt like giving in.
Wilbur hadn't even recognized how he had moved, not until Quackity's wings fluttered under his palm that hovered over one of them and he was leaning into Quackity's space a decent amount.
The air was noticeably warmer, silence hung heavy in the air as they both contemplated this exact situation.
Wilbur wouldn't acknowledge all of it, at least, not now. Quackity still was hurting which still made Wilbur's chest tighten.
Out of a totally new sense of care, Wilbur ran his fingers through the fluffy feathers as gently as he could as he lowered his head, breath warm and cheeks pink.
"Your wings," Wilbur whispered, eyeing them again as Quackity batted his lashes and he snapped back to being fully aware as he swallowed.
"Yeah Wilbur?" Quackity asked, breath lost and airy, still facing outwards with a fixed gaze on the wall that he was trying to maintain. Wilbur's lips pursed downwards into an apologetic frown.
"How often do you take care of them?"
Quackity pondered over the truth or lie before he was sinking back into Wilbur's hand with a shameful sigh, "Not a whole lot."
Wilbur paused, biting his tongue as he thought of something before managing to get Quackity to face him. Wilbur's face softened and he placed a hand on Quackity's knee intentionally.
Quackity's eyes shot up and their eyes met, so Wilbur hooked a finger around Quackity's thumb and his other hand brushed over the other's wing.
"I could?"
“Really?” Quackity muttered in surprise, face faltering at the offer. The air stilled, Quackity’s breath ghosted over Wilbur’s shoulder before he leaned away and Wilbur nodded.
"Really."
Quackity’s chest froze for the shortest second before he blinked down at his own hands placed anxiously in his lap. “Okay.”
Wilbur silently beamed, for some reason, this was like victory. A warm, tender, and private victory between the two of them that he would brag about to himself for months to come because Quackity was letting him touch and take care of his nearly neglected wings that he didn’t allow just anyone to do.
He raised both of his hands to hover over Quackity’s wings, once again falling into a haze of admiration for the beautiful things. Wilbur faintly frowned at how tense Quackity’s shoulders still were, lifting his hands to rest on them as he leaned forward to Quackity’s ear.
“Relax for me,” He said placidly and calmly in a low voice. He waited, then Quackity was easing into his palms as he sighed. Wilbur leaned back with a small smile and squeezed his shoulder. “Good, thank you.”
Quackity’s wings puffed up the slightest bit and as Quackity pointedly looked away Wilbur was slow to catch up before his eyes lit up with amusement while his heart skipped a beat or two. He decided not to comment on it though, simply threading his hands through feathers and he neated them out with a concentrated hum.
Light, fluffy feathers rested above his palms as he gazed across each wing and each individual feather. Then, after a quick second of thought he eyed the side of Quackity’s face with a considerate look.
“Quackity, Imma start preening your wings, mkay?”
Quackity nodded, adjusting his position on the couch suddenly so that Wilbur had to scoot back before Quackity was facing his back towards him, sparing one last look over his shoulder with an expectant gaze. Then, Wilbur was left with the back of his head again.
So Wilbur got to work, starting from the furthest feathers as he brushed them off, getting rid of the amount of dust that had collected in between them. Then, after mumbling a heads-up to Quackity, he started plucking out an already loose and damaged feather as gently as he could.
Quackity straightened his back instantly, holding his breath. Wilbur ever attentive, noticed him and rubbed his side, a sudden move of comfort that had Quackity relaxing again as well as mentally shaming the light shade of pink on his face. Lucky for him, Wilbur couldn't even see his face, however, that didn't make him any less embarrassed that his cheeks were warm.
And of course, Wilbur's hand was still at his side, making the skin under his fabric burn with such a high level of heat it was frying his brain too. Which lead to slips up like the start of a simmering desire that tightened his chest and made him hyper-aware of Wilbur's breath that was so faintly fanning across the back of his neck even through his hair.
Or the calloused hands Wilbur sifted through his wings once more before being extremely careful when removing another feather that was crooked where it stuck out, skinny and lacking the fluffiness of the others.
This time Quackity didn't react as intensely, he only blinked at the sensation of it being removed before he melted back into the caring warm hands of Wilbur Soot.
From then on it continued on the same path, Wilbur touching up his wings, getting rid of stray loose and broken feathers and assuring or simply comforting Quackity.
If Wilbur was aware of how intimate this felt, he didn't bring it up in any way. To be fair, Quackity didn't either. He didn't know what that might bring them to.
It was already out of character for the two to be so kind and quiet around each other, let alone help the other out.
But here they are, silently soaking in each other's body warmth, relaxing in their close proximity, even speaking to each other in hushed whispers that were so content and soft.
Unlucky for Wilbur, he was really starting to enjoy this.
And who knew if he'd ever get to experience this again.
The contentment, the soft wings under his fingers, Quackity's appreciative murmurs- any of it.
It was a different type of alive that he found himself liking more and more as he hummed, leaning closer to Quackity as he gazed over the darker feathers.
Instead of his heart beating due to adrenaline and anger, all fast and heavy, his heart was beating with simplistic gratefulness and it was light, floating like dandelion fuzz in a summer breeze and it fluttered in a similar way Quackity's eyelashes did.
Wilbur wondered if Quackity could identify just how out of the ordinary this was too. But also how natural it felt.
For some reason, sitting here alone with Quackity in this little bubble they've created was strange, this wasn't exactly normal for them. Bickering and pissing each other off was normal.
Yet Wilbur had to admit to himself that something about the way Quackity's hand fit in his when he assured him, or the sensation Wilbur got whenever Quackity's wings puffed up at a certain touch or some of his words- something about it made Wilbur wonder if this was how it should be, if maybe, somehow, this was why Wilbur was alive.
So he was hesitant to fix up the last feather on Quackity’s wing, dragging the time out as he hoped for another moment like this to happen some time in the furture. With a longing sigh, Wilbur’s fingers drifted across both wings one last time before he was leaning back and glancing over their perfections.
They did look much better than when he first saw them, there were no loose feathers sticking out, no feathers that had thinned out and gotten bent. Just as before, it still looked marvelous in Wilbur’s eyes, the warm yellow of the wings that slowly turned into a deep brown was now imprinted into his memory, never to be forgotten. It was too special.
Which was why he wore a small frown as he leaned back and took a deep breath. Wilbur wanted this to last longer.
“Okay,” he mumbled, “I’m done now.”
Quackity nodded slowly at his words, glancing over his shoulder to examine his wings before fully turning to face Wilbur which admittedly made his heart ping with endearment for the gracious and grateful smile on Quackity’s face.
“Thank you,” Quackity said and Wilbur wish he knew exactly what emotion had slipped into his voice because it now had Wilbur blushing as he cleared his throat.
“No problem,” He answered softly, finding it effortlessly easy to study the small sparkle in both of Quackity’s mismatching eye. He also wanted to know what that was. He wanted to figure out the reasoning behind the color of his cheeks. Because what if…
Now, if Wilbur was being hopeful and optimistic here, what if this was because of him.
Wilbur regretted looking over at the door for even the shortest second that he did because Quackity’s face dimmed when he looked back at him. Was Quackity already back to being upset and tired that quick?
And here was Wilbur, fingertips still tingling with the feeling of Quackity’s feathers and mind still focused on the way Quackity’s face seemed just as beatiful as his wings, scar and all.
“Are you leaving?” Quackity asked quietly and Wilbur paused at the somber tone that almost sounded like he would regret it if he got a certain answer.
Words caught in his throat, Wilbur met Quackity’s mismatching eyes in search of an answer. He didn’t know if he was correct, but a wishful part of him was saying that due to Quackity’s down curled lips and hesitant hand, Quackity didn’t want him to leave.
Oh.
Oh.
What a wonderful thing that would be. Yet another thing Wilbur wanted to know.
Or needed.
So with furrowed brows and a careful breath Wilbur mumbled, “Do you want me to?”
Except although it was a question, there was also a desperate request underneath, a please let me stay that sunk deep into his chest as he waited for an anwer.
So he watched with anxious desire as Quackity bit his lip, blinked and slowly shook his head as the world stilled to watch this exact moment where both of them had finally and fully gotten over and knocked down all the walls of anger or spite they had put up to block each other from knowing the simple shared truth.
“Don’t go,” Quackity whispered, blinking up at Wilbur with a look that was just as desperate as Wilbur’s words. And so, Wilbur was eager to nod and lean closer with a pounding heart and a gentle hand that cuffed Quackity’s cheek as he smiled softly.
“Okay, I won’t.” He truly meant it, they inched closer and now there was little to no space between them on a whole new level as hot breaths circled between them and their shoulders touched.
“Wilbur,” Quackity said his name breathlessly and gently it already had Wilbur, but the extra flutter of his eyelashes, the pink on his face and the pure want in his voice had pushed Wilbur past the line he normally hid from as his eyes dropped down to Quackity’s lips.
“Quackity,” He muttered his name and was answered with a hum as he brought his other hand to just barely brush across Quackity’s hand. Then, he was completly giving in. “Can I kiss you?”
Quackity’s eyes widened for a moment, the air grew warmer and warmer until he breathed out a firm and eager, “Kiss me, Wilbur.” That had both of their eyes fluttering shut as their lips met and finally, they kissed.
It felt euphoric as soon as it began, the world around them dissolved into nothing of importance as one of Quackity’s arms was thrown over Wilbur’s back and pulled him closer and closer.
In response Wilbur had so easily melted into Quackity as he slipped his tounge into Quackity’s mouth and tilted his head.
Quackity’s wings stretched out incredibly before they were almost closing around the both of them, making Wilbur’s head spin positively as Quackity kissed him again and again and again.
And Wilbur loved it, face burning as he smiled into the kiss because even if he never got to experience this again, he was right now.
And right now, he truly knew what it meant to be alive.