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It felt like the first burst of sound.
Everything had been quiet. Wilbur was quietly dusting the shelves and bottles. It was the first hour or two of opening and people had only started coming in or out. He was not complaining, he enjoyed the peace and quiet. Humming softly to himself, he busied himself with little jobs around the shop. Wiping down bottles, brewing new potions, cleaning the floor and more. While sorting new potions into the higher shelves, standing up on a ladder, he heard loud noises from behind him.
The doorbell rings. Loud and stomping feet stamped across the floor. It is different to Wilbur, who's light feet and body never carry too much sound.
"Uh, hi, would I be able to check some stuff out?"
He turns around, he can not place who's voice this is - he doesn't think he has never heard it before. The ladder shakes and he grips onto the nearest object, which just so happens to be the shelving. Luckily, it does not shake too much and he does not end up falling onto the ground. Which honestly wouldn't be that big of a deal, being dead and all. Once he gets a grip on himself, he finally turns to the new person in the shop.
He was right. Wilbur has never seen them before.
They are not tall, if they were standing on even ground they would only come up to Wilbur's shoulder. They have long, black hair which curls into his neck and flicks out onto his shoulders. Large wings, white with flecks of golden baby feathers, sprout from his back. His eyes are a deep brown, like soil in the earth or the timber floorings of his shop, and they attentively focused on him. Right, Wilbur should say something.
"I- are- are you new around here?" he asked.
"Oh, yeah, I just got here like two days ago. Thought I'd, uh, check this place out, y'know?"
"Alright, well, you can have a look around and see if you want anything."
"Oh, yeah, cool," they respond. Wilbur continues to sort through his shelves and restock, while they look below. "Hey, uh, I never got your name."
"Well, you never asked," Wilbur quips.
"I- yeah, I guess I didn't," they laugh. "Then, um, what is your name?"
"Wilbur, it's Wilbur. And yours?"
"Quackity."
They smile pleasantly. They're one of those people who you can just tell how magnetic they are, that natural charisma and hospitality. Wilbur could have been one of those people, but he prefers to stick to himself and the people he recognises - some would say he has got social anxiety. Sure, he is not big on meeting new people, but it is obvious Quackity is probably going to be sticking around for a while, so he will have to get used to him anyways. Might as well make a good impression.
"And, yeah, I know, it's kinda ironic with the whole duck-hybrid thing," Quackity continues. Wilbur laughs at that, and he quickly gets defensive. "What? Is that funny to you?"
"I mean, c'mon, it's a little funny," he grins. "You even said it yourself that it's ironic."
"Whatever," he rolls his eyes. "Y'know, maybe I should go, if the shopkeeper's going to be such a dick and everything."
"You haven't even seen our stock yet!"
"You haven't shown me your stock yet," Quackity retaliated, grinning cheekily.
"Fine, fine. Do you need me to lay them out for you and everything?"
"Yes, please," he grins. Wilbur has never been so annoyed yet intrigued by someone, except for maybe Tommy.
"Alright, let's see what we have here..." He looks through the cabinets, taking out some of the potions he assumes Quackity would be interested with. Fire resistance, night vision, regeneration... He picks them all out, and purposefully takes a speed potion - mostly because he thinks it would be funny to offer that to an avian, somebody who already has enhanced speed.
Holding them all in his arms, he starts laying them out on the counter. Quackity looks at them with interest, one that doesn't look faked or over exaggerated. It makes Wilbur's stomach do a flip at the idea somebody cares.
"Well? Are you interested in any?"
"Hm... I don't know, I don't think any of these are tickling my fancy." Wilbur would really like to know what went through Quackity's head when he decided to be like this to someone he just met. He hates how he is enjoying it too, loving the way they just keep making him second guess. He feels stupid.
"Really, well then, I would say you'd have to find another shop... but you're just going to have 'til I restock, don't you?"
"I suppose so, Wilbur. I just can't wait until then." Quackity leans against the counter, his back facing it and his palms both placed firmly on the table - like he owns the place. Wilbur slots in behind him to pick up a few of the potions to put away. Climbing up onto the ladder, he looks down at them.
"I'll see you soon, I suppose?"
"Very soon." They smirk.
He slots a few of the potions back into their original spot. The door rings once Quackity walks out. Wilbur looks over back to the table where he showed off some of the potions. Three are missing - swiftness, jump boost and regeneration.
Instead of mourning the loss of his potions, Wilbur grins.
I see how it is, Quackity. It's on.
ʚ♡ɞ
Quackity walks into the shop the next day. Wilbur is already ready to greet him.
"Wow, what's got you in a good mood?" Quackity says, walking in.
"Nothin'," he replies, which isn't at all helpful but the grin he wears isn't hiding much. "Anything happen here?"
"No, also, I hate to break it to you, we only restock on Thursdays. You can come back in three days if you want."
"Oh, well..." Quackity bites his lip in thought for a second, his face scrunching up. "I- I, uh, thought I didn't take a close enough look at all the shelves last time, y'know?"
"Okay." He rolls his eyes, not with malice, but it is obvious to tell that Quackity is hiding something. He is here for another reason, but what?
Wilbur decides to go back to maintaining the shop, allowing Quackity to wander around untethered. In the corner of his eye, he seems to flit from one side of the the room to the other. He would always quickly start looking at something with intent, something is definitely fishy. Wilbur is determined to find out.
"What are you looking for?" Quackity jumps at his sudden speaking.
"Uh, just, y'know... looking?"
Right. Taking a closer look at him, Wilbur notices a sparkling in his hand. He is holding diamonds and simply just carrying them around. Which would normally be used for paying, but if Quackity has not bought anything yet, why would he have them out already?
...Except if he is paying for something he already took. Thinking back to the missing potions from yesterday, it is not hard to connect the dots to Quackity taking them. Now, it seems like he wants to pay for them. He looks embarrassed for it and he is trying to put it back without him knowing. It is weirdly sweet how he is trying to sneak it in behind his back, Wilbur could almost call it cute.
"Sure," he smiles knowingly. Letting Quackity return to trying to creep around him and return them, he keeps his back turned for a long time. He tries not to turn around when he hears shuffling behind him. Smirking quietly to himself, he hears a small ding of the diamonds clanking together.
"Are you seriously paying for the potions you stole yesterday?" he grins. His head shoots around to face Wilbur again, eyes flying wide open. His smirk increases tenfold at the sight. "Well?"
"I- uh, I didn't- I don't know what you're talking about," Quackity flusters.
"Alright, then do you know why a couple of my potions were missing after you left?" Wilbur walks over and leans with his back on the counter, his arms outstretched and palms laying flat on the table.
"No, why would I? And if you're thinking I stole them- well, I didn't, so you're wrong," he flounders.
It is obvious he is lying, but Wilbur is willing to play along.
"Good to know, I suppose..." he answers slowly, "I've gotta know... even if you 'didn't take them,'" he emphasises the words with his fingers, "why pick speed? Aren't you already slightly faster?"
"Do- do I really have to explain it?" It is funny how he is not even hiding it, but the way he looks down shamefully when Wilbur mentions the speed potion makes him wonder. He waits to see if Quackity will give him an answer. "It's- it's just- avian hybrids are normally faster, but I'm a duck hybrid specifically, so..."
It doesn't take a genius to fill in the gaps.
"Ah, but don't be like- don't be shy about that stuff, yeah?" Wilbur says, and Quackity looks at him with doe eyes. "I- I know someone who was insecure about this stuff as well," Tommy, specifically, "when his wings didn't grow in when everyone else's did."
"I mean, you're right, but- whatever, it's fine, it doesn't matter. Let's just elect to move on, if that's alright."
"Okay, if that's what you want," he accepts.
Even though he has put the money back, Quackity still chooses to wander around - the very small - shop. Wilbur sort of likes his presence, so he is unbothered with him staying. Sometimes one will say something, then the other one laughs. It is mostly quiet, until another ding signally someone has walked in goes off.
"Hey, Wilbur!" Right, Tommy. One of the other avians, other than Beau, on the server. Bright and bubbly, Wilbur has known him for a very long time. "Quackity? Man, I didn't know you were here."
"Hey, man!" he greets, pulling in Tommy for a tight hug. "Hi, just checking out the shop."
"Cool, cool. Wil, are you able to help me with my... uh, training?" He guesses the way Tommy avoids saying avian training is because he does not want to embarrass himself in front of the new person, who is very much avian.
"Yeah, sure. Do- do you need it now?"
"I- yes, please." He has never seen him act so nice, it has something to do with Quackity standing there.
"I- I'm so sorry, Quackity, but- duty and everything calls, sorry for-" Wilbur apologises.
"Oh, no, don't be! I- I... was just about to leave, anyways! I'll- um, catch you all later," he interrupts, starting to slide out the door behind Tommy. "But- I'll see you sometime later this week, yeah?"
"Yes, of course. It's not like we can really avoid each other around here, y'know?"
"Okay, I'll see you then," Quackity departs with.
Leaving the two alone in the shop, Wilbur turns to Tommy. "Let's go, you wanna get your training down before sundown, right?"
"Yeah, I fuckin' hate flying in the dark," he responds.
They walk out of the shop, Wilbur even spots Quackity talking nearby, and it makes him remember a question he wanted to ask early.
"You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, but why were you so shy about talking with Quackity?"
"It's just- y'know, Big Q's a new avian. I don't- don't wanna make a bad first impression, y'know?"
"Yes, yes, of course. I get it, Tommy. I mean, you know how I can get with my social anxiety and stuff," Wilbur sympathises. "Anyways, he's a cool guy, I see why you wanna impress him."
"A cool guy? I've never heard you call someone a cool guy," Tommy says with an indicative tone.
And- oh, they are not playing this game. Tommy has this thing where he thinks Wilbur is lonely and single, which is technically true, but it is not like he needs a partner. Ever since he discovered he is bisexual, he has been non-stop trying to find someone, almost anyone at this point, to love him. It has been the absolute bane of Wilbur's existence. He could tell by his voice alone that Tommy's mind is already going wild with ideas.
The worst part is that Wilbur does find Quackity kind of cute already. Not in the way he would actually date date him, they had only recently met, but in the way he is nice to look at. It is just surface level physical attraction, nothing more. But knowing what Tommy is like, he is going to try to pair them together and make it Wilbur's problem. Great, just what he needs.
"Wilbur, I know what you're thinking-"
"Good, then we don't have to have this conversation," he flings.
"-but just hear me out. You're lonely, he looks pretty lonely too-"
"Tommy."
"-and it's not like he's ugly or anything, I'm just saying-"
"Tommy."
"I'm just saying you- oh, come on, I'm just trying to be a good brother. What's wrong with that?" Brother catches him, but Wilbur decides that is a mental crisis for later Wilbur to handle. Now Wilbur needs to worry about his insufferable younger brother- friend and the pretty new guy.
"Because we're just friends- actually, we're not even friends yet, we're basically acquaintances," he protests, "we don't even know if he likes guys!"
Tommy's eyes shine with something dangerous, just what Wilbur needs.
"Hey, Quackity!" he screams, and since it's a small world around here, Quackity pops his head up and looks over at them. "Do you like men!?"
Even from the distance, Wilbur can tell the way his face scrunches up at the question. He hears the reply, "yes? Why do you ask?"
"Okay, do you like-" Wilbur clamps a hand over his mouth, effectively shutting him up. He does not need Tommy going on and investigating his love life.
"That's enough now," he says sternly. A slimy thing drags over his hand- it must have been Tommy's tongue, disgusting - making him take it off his mouth and jumping back. "Okay, please don't do that ever again."
"Sorry, you weren't taking your hand off my mouth, it was pissing me off." Wilbur opens his mouth to say why he did it, but Tommy intervenes. "I know, you don't want me spilling your secret crush, I promise I won't now."
"I don't have a secret crush on him, but thank you for shutting up."
"No problem, but that doesn't mean I'm not gonna at least try to get you to admit your feelings for him."
Wilbur groans, resting his head tiredly into his hands. "Do you really need avian training right now or were you just dragging me out here because of my 'crush?'"
"I do, I do! Actually, Phil was trying to show me this new trick. I couldn't get it, but maybe..." Tommy continues ranting, explaining the trick and how he couldn't do it.
Deciding Quackity is a problem for another day, he listens to what Tommy wants to say.
ʚ♡ɞ
Wilbur finds himself quietly sitting on Quackity's roof. It is twilight, the stars sparkling softly and the sun setting over the edge of the world. It is a very pretty sight. The reason he sits there though, is it is the best view of watching Quackity and Phil fly in the clouds. Two specs from down below, but from up here he can see their faces and wings - he is glad Quackity chose somewhere high to live.
The first time he saw Quackity's wings, he was jealous.
He remembers waiting for his own wings to come in. His baby feathers were a pretty shade of brown, like honey and cedar wood. Tommy used to say he would be the talk of the town once they grew in. Phil taught him so many tricks for flying, how to do donuts in the air and how to land. He died before he got the chance to try flying. Sometimes he swears he can still feel the wings on his back.
He is not jealous now though, no, not after watching him fly. He touches the sky with volatile grace, like a firework in the air. His actions are not nearly as graceful as Phil's, but they are so much more bold and vibrant. Wilbur can not seem to take his eyes off him. Watching him for almost an hour at this point, he wonders what it would have been like to fly with him.
Almost, he considers leaving. Not until he sees Quackity heading straight for him. Instinctively, he goes invisible. It does not work.
"Wilbur, come on, I already saw you. No point going invisible now," he says victoriously with a grin on his face. Smug bastard.
The avian flies over and comes to sit next to him, crossed legged a metre or two in front of him. Slowly he fades back into view, and hopes his embarrassment is not showing on his face. But Wilbur is never a lucky person, so he bets it is.
"You're not bad," he spits plainly.
"What?"
"I mean- what I meant to say was, you're not bad at flying," Wilbur elaborates. "It's- do you go flying a lot?"
"Um, yeah? I guess? I try to do it as much as possible, it's kinda in my blood in all."
"Right. Well, it's uh- it's showing. You really seem to get caught up there."
"Thanks? But, Wilbur," he puts on a teasing tone and Wilbur thinks here we go, "you weren't watching me, now were you?"
"I- fuck you," he scoffs, and Quackity laughs like lemonade: bubbly and tangy in the good way, "I just- I was bored and I wanted to watch Phil, but you just happened to be there. That's all."
"Sure, sure, sure. But did you really think I was good?"
"Yeah, yes, you were. You know how powerful you are when you fly, like you know how much your wings can take in the sky," he compliments.
"Oh? Are you giving me pointers now? I didn't realise you were watching so carefully."
"Shut the fuck up," Wilbur rolls his eyes and there is that laugh again. He swears that lemonade laughter is bubbling up in his gut and making him feel sick in the way someone pretty makes you feel good. Does that mean- no, no it is just a coincidence. "But, if you want a couple of tips, I can give you some."
"I- Really? What do you think I should work on, Wilbur the almighty and powerful?" The nickname makes him snort a little, he thinks he might see Quackity's smile grow at that.
"To start off with, you don't have that grace a lot of other fliers have. Most people try to follow the wind, it makes it easier because of the less energy you need for it. You won't get as tired next time then."
"Well, what I say is that I don't follow the wind, and if it wants me to go the same way as it, it should start following me," Quackity smirks.
"Well, I think you're kind of stupid," Wilbur retorts with no malice and he makes a fake offended face at that comment.
"How- how dare you? And here I was, being so naïve as to thinking you were a nice person! Oh, Wilbur, how could you say such a thing to me?" he reacts in a mocking voice.
"You were the one stupid enough to fall for my beguiles, darling," he says teasingly, which making fun of him is the only reason he adds on the pet name. Nothing else.
"Oh, you've doomed me," Quackity speaks dramatically, while performing a dramatized fall onto the ground. He even fakes his own death a little, choking and lying as still as he can on the ground with his eyes shut. He whispers then, "I- I think only true love's kiss can save me."
Immediately, Wilbur is glad his eyes are shut to not see the bright shade of red his face goes. For a moment, he considers playing into his joke and getting closer, pretending like he is going to kiss him. But his heart and brain can not handle that apparently.
"Guess you're just going to have to die here alone then," he jokes with a wavering voice that barely conceals how flustered he is.
Luckily for him, Quackity lifts himself off the ground and breaks the joke. "Fuck you too," he groans, rolling his eyes with no poison. He looks at Wilbur again and that red better be gone by now, or he might just die from embarrassment. "Do you just not like the thought of kissing me?"
"Not particularly, no," he half-lies. Half-lies? It is not the full truth, he does not hate the idea of kissing Quackity. It is just... not right now.
"Am I really that ugly?" Quackity questions in a once more fake tone.
Bursting out laughing from his mock voice, Quackity joins in too. He does not think he has ever laughed this hard before. There is just something about Quackity and how easy it feels to be with him, like someone is seeing him as himself for the first time. This time, Wilbur does not mind the swirling in his gut that comes with being with the avian.
"You should, uh, probably be getting some sleep now," Wilbur notifies. When did it get so late?
"Shouldn't you as well then?"
"No, remember the phantom thing? Honestly, I should be sleeping in the day more often."
"Right, you're nocturnal and shit. Luckily for you, I'm also kinda nocturnal," he smiles.
"You are?"
"Fuck yeah! There are so many perks that come with being a duck that no one tells you about. It's fun." The way Quackity beams is a lovely sight, Wilbur can not help but reflect it.
"Why don't you tell me about it then?"
"Oh, yeah, sure. Well, ducks are not only..."
They talk about anything and everything. Their hybrids, what their pasts were like, how they met other people, their hobbies and more. Wilbur loves the energy in his voice, how you could just tell how much he loved to listen and to be listened to. He could listen to Quackity talk for hours, and he does.
ʚ♡ɞ
"Tommy, you can't still be going on about this," he bemoans.
Tommy, after he found out that Quackity could be a potential suitor for Wilbur, had been non-stop trying to get Wilbur to initiate something. Every time he would see the two standing together, he would give him a suggestive raise of the eyebrows - and since he was never concealing it well, Quackity would give a strange glance at him.
"C'mon! It's obvious," he objects. "And this isn't me just trying to set you up with the nearest guy, this is me just pointing out the obvious."
"What do you mean the 'obvious?'"
"I mean, have you seen the way you look at him?"
"The what-" his face goes burgundy, does he look at Quackity like that? "Tommy, you're being ridiculous." No, he probably, most likely, almost certainly does not look at him that way. That would be absurd.
"I'm not! I'm just telling the truth!" Wilbur rolls his eyes, crosses his arms and gives him a look. "It's not like it's a bad thing! You like men, he likes men, and you've both got some chemistry going on. It's like- I don't fucking know, but the point is you work together!"
"Right, right," he scoffs, just agreeing with him to change the conversation topic.
"Look! He's over there, we can ask him now!" Oh fuck. "Hey, Quackity, over here!"
Before his eyes turn towards them, Wilbur goes invisible. Tommy looks at where he last saw him standing surprised, but he gets lucky when Quackity is none the wiser. He walks up to Tommy.
"Hey, is there anything going on?"
"We- I was just gonna ask you that..." Tommy trails off in thought, "that... uh, if... out of everyone on the server, who would you, uh, y'know, romantically go out with?"
"You wanna know about my love life, huh? Alright, I'll humour you," he smirks. "Um, who would I date... I think I would-"
"Okay, more like, specifically Wilbur," Tommy interjects. "Would you date him?"
Wilbur almost slaps his head into his palm, nearly making a sound, but stops himself before it. Way to be discrete, Tommy.
"Woah, woah. Now, I know you've been trying to set up me and him for a while," great, he knows about that too, "but- okay. Dating him? I have no idea what he would be like, but from what I know about him... I don't think it could be the worst in the world. I wouldn't mind it."
Oh, Wilbur is very, very glad he is invisible right now.
"Are you serious? Because if you were, I was absolutely right."
"I mean, you're not entirely wrong. He's an attractive guy, but... I'd love to get closer to him before anything happens."
Wow, wow, wow. Wilbur is grinning and blushing and he can hardly contain himself. Why does Quackity saying he could date him have him so flustered?
"I was right! I was fuckin' right! Wilbur, can you hear him?"
"Wilbur- wait, is Wilbur here?" Quackity asks, furrowing his eyebrows. Wilbur holds himself very still.
"No- no, I- uh, fuck, um, it's just a habit, y'know? He's not- no, he's nowhere around right now. Actually, I think I might be at his shop and maybe he said that he wants to see you and you should really head over there, just because- yeah, you should go," Tommy rambles.
Quackity blinks at him loudly for a few moments. "Right, I'll- uh, sure, I'll go check that out. Whatever you say, man." He does not believe him, but he just seems to accept it.
"Cool, good, you go do that," he awkwardly smiles.
"Alright, see you then?"
"Yep, you should get going now, bye!" Tommy shoos him away.
Quackity turns on his heel and starts walking vaguely over to where the potion shop is. Wilbur releases a breath of relief; all while becoming visible again.
"See, I told you, Wil! He so fuckin' likes you!"
"Tommy, he didn't say he likes me. That- that he wouldn't mind dating me, they're not the same," Wilbur informs.
"You just don't wanna admit the obvious."
"It's not- he's just- you can be so-" he stutters.
"See! You can't deny it!" he grins. "You're also mad that I was right and you were wrong."
"I'm just- I'm just gonna leave now," Wilbur says, going invisible.
"What? No, Wil, I was joking, come back!" he shouts, trying to run after him in a random direction.
The truth is, he has not moved an inch and before Tommy realises he is still close by, Wilbur follows close behind him. When Tommy finally finds out, he is glad they do not talk about Quackity and his love life - Wilbur, preferably, does not want to deal with those feelings building inside of him right now.
ʚ♡ɞ
Wilbur is sitting on Quackity's roof, for what must have been the third or fourth time that week. He sees it as a bit of a new home.
In the sky, he can see a pair of gold speckled white wings. Twisting and streamlining through the air, Quackity is up flying once again. Sometimes, Wilbur will call out a pointer and receive a large 'thank you!' in return. Other times, he can just sit there for hours watching him dance through the sky. No matter what he does, it always ends up being a nice time.
Today though, when he finally flies down, Wilbur swears something is off.
He lands a little crookedly, leaning on one leg too much and having to place his palm on the ground for balance. He looks worse for wear.
"Hey, how was your flight?" he queries, not wanting to let on too much of his concern.
"Um, it was good. The clouds were pretty and I got to check out something new someone must've set up from above. And it was, uh, good practice as always."
He is hiding something, something that is hurting him. And Wilbur hates the idea of something hurting Quackity, no matter how much he pretends to not care.
"You look tired, what is it?" Quackity stills, barely noticeable except if you are looking for it like Wilbur always is. "You don't have to be scared about telling me, I don't want to hurt you."
"Shit, it's nothing bad- it's just- y'know what, it's nothing. I'm fine, Wilbur."
"'Nothing bad' and 'nothing' are two different things," he says with a raised eyebrow in suspicion. Quackity lets his walls break down.
"I- My wings are just- they're just a bit tired and some feathers are a bit out of place. That's all."
"Wil! You don't have to check over them, they're just a bit fucked up. I'm fine," Tommy once complained. Wilbur found out that Tommy had his wings in some of the worst condition he has ever seen. He bets Quackity's are similar.
"Let me see."
"I- Wilbur, I'm fine, I swear," he argues.
"Then let me just see. I could check the spots you can't see on your wings. Just trust me."
Slowly, Quackity lets himself walk forward towards him. Wilbur stands up. He examines the wings for barely a second; he can already tell that they are bad bad. They look like they have not been preened for weeks at this point, with feathers sticking out. It must not be comfortable to fly with.
Wilbur remembers how he flies, with little grace. This jagged wings are starting to give Wilbur the full picture of why he flies like that.
"You need a really good preening session, you look like you've been mauled by a bear."
"Do I?" he asks.
"Yeah, you need someone to take care of this."
"I-" he stops for a second, choosing his next words wisely, "can you? If it's not too much."
Preening is a sign of trust. Nobody ever lets an acquaintance, or friends if they are feeling very insecure, touch their wings. Allowing someone to touch your wings is a very private matter, and is almost never a casual thing. Being allowed to groom his wings creates a bubbly feeling in Wilbur's gut. That lemonade is back again.
"I- yeah, of course, I would be more than happy to," he says, his voice pitched higher from his surprise at being given permission to do something so private.
"Are you sure? There's probably someone else willing to do this, sorry I'll-"
"No, no, no, no. You're fine, I- I don't mind preening you at all."
There is something about the idea that if he was not the one to tell Quackity, would he have asked somebody else to do this for him? He likes the idea that if Quackity ever needs preening, he would come to Wilbur first. Fuck him and his stupid avian instincts, even if he is a phantom now.
"Okay, um, can we not do it here though? It's just- this seems like a shitty place to do it."
"Yes, yes. We can do it wherever you prefer."
"Thanks, could we maybe go inside then? Like, we are sitting on my house after all." Wilbur nods.
Taking him by the hand, Quackity leads him to the edge of the roof. Underneath them is an open window. He watches Quackity flutter down, and sympathises when he sees him cringe from the pain. Wilbur phases through the floor, passing through it and landing on the same floor as Quackity.
"Oh, yeah, you can do that," he giggles. "Sometimes, I forget that you can do actually cool things."
"Fuck off," Wilbur groans with no malice. Quackity just smiles and leads him further into the house.
He has never been here before, so he immediately starts taking in all of the new features. His house is not too lived in yet, but his personality seems to be all over the place. Photographs hang all over the wall, most with people posing ironically or making a silly face. He notices bright pops of colour in almost every room. On the couch there is also a pillow with fucking 'live, laugh, love' on it - Quackity and his stupid sense of humour.
"Your house is nice," he comments, simply making conversation.
"I- thank you, I put a lot of effort into this," Quackity responds.
Then, he remembers avians and how they view their nests. Some like to show off, some even doing it for courting purposes. He really hopes he did not come off that way, it would feel awkward and moving too fast for something either of them were prepared for. Even if Wilbur is literally about to do something as intimate as preening.
"It shows," Wilbur says simply.
Then, he is leading Wilbur to his bedroom. Once it opens, he notices Quackity's bed is set up not too dissimilar to a nest. It makes sense, wanting to have preening done inside your own nest. But suddenly he feels like he has intruded on something way too personal and looks over at Quackity, who is looking at him patiently. And- no, he is not running away from this. He should not go and hide away while his friend - or whatever Tommy calls them - is hurting.
"Can you- can we do this in my nest?"
Wilbur has never been properly invited into a nest before, that was not Phil's or Tommy's, oh boy, this is doing something to him.
"Yes, if that's what you want."
Quackity sits down on the bed, leaving room for Wilbur. He pats down on the bed to signal he wants him to join him. And he is already this far in, he plops himself down on the bed.
"Now, I'm gonna need you to turn around," he instructs and Quackity follows. "Can I take off your shirt?"
He hears a snicker and then, "wow, take me out to dinner first."
Rolling his eyes, while a smile is plastered on his face. "You know that's not what I meant. Are you going to let me though?"
"Yeah, yeah. Just do whatever you need to, I trust you."
I trust you. Yeah, Wilbur is fine about this.
"Okay." Slowly, he slides off Quackity's shirt, being careful about his wings that sit in his shirt hole. He does it gently and he hopes that if Quackity is uncomfortable with this, he will tell him to stop - but he never does.
Once it is off, he receives a face full of outstretched wings. Never being able to see them up close, he inspects the damaged gold and white feathers. Instinctively, he runs a hand over them and a shiver comes from Quackity. Do whatever you need. Right, he needs to do the job he came here for.
"Is it okay if I use your own wing oil? Or should I go get a bottle?"
Quackity seems to snap out of a haze he had settled into. It is nice to know he is that comfortable with Wilbur.
"You can use it, but thanks for asking."
He lets his hand slide over the gland, collecting up a sufficient amount on his hands. Once he believes he has enough, Wilbur brings his hands up to his wings. Calmly, he combs through his tertial feathers. Quackity almost immediately leans into his hand. Finding feathers out of place and sorting them back in, or even having to pull out feathers that are too damaged to stay.
Somehow, the avian stays relatively still during the process. He lets himself be taken care of. There is something that makes Wilbur's stomach swirl from how happy Quackity is to let him do all of this for him. A couple of mumbles of praise escape from his lips, but other than that the entire room is quiet. Until Quackity lets out a chirp of satisfaction, one that resembles thank you.
Wilbur can not help but return it. A small you're welcome flutters out of him.
Quackity's head looks over his shoulder and back at him. It is as if neither of them were trying to sink that far into their instincts. They are both wide eyed and Wilbur's hands have stopped moving.
"What- what the fuck was that?" Quackity tilts his head.
"Avian shit, I think," Wilbur answers, while just as confused as he is.
"Oh. Wait you aren't- oh, right, you're a phantom because- okay, I see," he stutters. Wilbur does not like being reminded of his past too much, he would much rather avoid it, but something about how Quackity does not try to pity him makes him feel good. "So, oh! That's why you were so polite and shit about doing my wings and coming into my nest! I get it."
Giggling a little at his late reaction, Quackity narrows his eyes at him.
"Alright, asshole, if you're gonna be a dick, I'm going to ask you to leave my nest," Q counters.
"No, no, no! I was joking, please don't make me leave," Wilbur pleads.
"Then don't be a dick, I'm in charge here," he teases. "Now get back to cleaning my wings."
"Fine," he spits, but in the same teasing tone as Quackity.
He does eventually go back to preening, after he stops laughing. Now, he scours his hands through his secondaries, doing the same as the tertials. They find their rhythm again quickly, Quackity leaning into his hands and Wilbur revelling in the feel of his wings. Throughout, he hears mumbled praises from Quackity and returns them by telling him how still he is keeping.
Strangely, it feels similar to courting. Which it is not. It is only Wilbur trying to do something nice for his friend, no matter what Tommy says. Even if Quackity is fine with the idea of them dating, even if Wilbur would not mind it either. Though doing something this intimate is definitely throwing his own instincts around, he will do this for Quackity.
Finally, he moves onto the primaries. They have been damaged the most, due to being the furthest away from the centre of his back. At this point, Quackity has become very comfortable letting out soft chirps and quacks, while Wilbur has been more than happy to return them. He hopes next time he needs preening, he will come ask him again.
He finishes softly and discreetly rubs his hands on nearby blankets to remove the wing oil off his hands. It does not help that he still has Quackity's scent on him. He even for a moment considers leaving it on, a sign to other hybrids that Wilbur has his scent on him. But he realises how rude it would be to do that without Quackity initiating it or saying he wants that.
"I'm done," he whispers, not wishing to disturb the avian too much. He seems very drowsy right now.
"Mm, thank you." His voice sounds shattered and tired.
"Do you want me to leave you to rest?" Once he says that, a hand comes to grab his wrist. Quackity turns to face him, brings the hand close to his chest with both hands and holds it.
He shakes his head and says, "can you stay?"
"I- yeah, if you need me too." Wilbur is a little stunned that he wants him to stay.
"I do. Come lie down with me." Lying down gently, he joins Quackity in his nest, his nest, the one Wilbur got invited to, and now he gets to sleep here and- He tries to be calm about it. Quackity looks at him with big, brown eyes and Wilbur thinks how am I ever meant to be able to say no to this man?
"You're warm," he mumbles and comes to wrap his arms around Wilbur's middle. He blushes heavily at the action. But that does not stop him from letting his own arm lay itself over his waist. He hears no complaint, so he keeps it there. "And stop stressing, I can see it on your face," Q pouts.
"If you say so, Q," he accepts.
Soon, Quackity's eyes shut and he falls into a deep sleep. Before Wilbur does too, indulgently, he leans over and presses a small, chaste kiss to his forehead.
"Sweet dreams," he whispers. You deserve it.
ʚ♡ɞ
For the week after that, Wilbur tries to look out for Quackity everywhere he goes.
In the potion shop, he waits until his favourite customer walks through the door. In training with Tommy, he waits until Quackity comes and asks them what they are doing. On his roof, he watches him practice flying - which is going a lot better now due to taking care of his wings properly, something Wilbur is very proud of - and talks to him when he comes down. Some days, he spends more time at Quackity's place than his own.
He is not complaining, and he does not think he ever will.
Today, he is looking for him outside. He stays invisible, mostly because of the glaring sun, but also to see if he can surprise him. Finding him talking with a few of the other residents, he listens in.
"Hey, are you sure you don't want us to help with preening? Your wings weren't looking too good last time I checked," Phil offers.
"No, no, guys, I'm fine. They're actually a lot better now, see?" Quackity protests, and turns to show off his wings.
And yes, Wilbur is proud that he did a good enough job and now Quackity is showing them off. Sue him for indulging his instincts a little.
"Alright, but once they start getting worse again, feel free to tell us. We don't judge anyone around here," Sneegsnag pipes up from Phil's shoulder.
"Thanks, guys, really. It's just... I don't know you that well, and I already have someone doing them, so I'm fine, really," Quackity insists, albeit awkwardly.
I already have someone doing them. Logically, Wilbur knows it is him, yet the idea of Quackity going to someone else to do them... does not sit right with him. He feels like it is his thing now, that he needs to be the one to take care of him. He knows it is just his stupid bird brain though.
"Alright, we'll see you around. Bye, mate," Phil farewells.
"Bye!" Sneegsnag shouts, waving wildly with his small yet energetic arm.
Finally, he creeps up behind him and prods his shoulders, Quackity jumps. Wilbur runs back and stands under a tree so as to not get burnt. He lets Quackity see him.
"Wilbur! You, asshole! You fuckin' scared me."
"Woops, didn't mean to," he lies mischievously. Wilbur grins, while he glares darkly.
"Alright, that's it. Come here, ghost boy!" Quackity yells, and before he can figure it out, he pushes him into the light. Wilbur goes invisible, but that is not to say he does not lose a bit of damage.
"Quackity! How could you? I trusted you!"
"You betrayed my trust too," he retorts. "This is war, Wil, and you better prepare for it."
"Oh, game on," Wilbur sneers playfully.
And who is going to call them out if they spend the rest of the day chasing after each other, and the night wrapped up in Quackity's nest?
ʚ♡ɞ
"Wilbur, do you wanna talk about it?" Phil asks.
He swears everyone in this town has asked him this at one point. Tommy was the first, and he did not stop asking it until Wilbur let him inspect. Niki did as well, but with a more caring tone and actually listened to what he had to say. Ranboo nearly did, but more just gave him strange glances whenever it came up in conversations. Hell, even now that he had gotten closer to Shubble, got a question from her about it as well.
And now Phil. Great.
"No, I'm fine. And now I know what you're thinking, but I swear that's not it," he responds firmly.
"C'mon, I think it'll be good to just be able to get it out of your system."
"You're like the fifth person this week to ask that, you know that?"
"Wilbur, it can't be bad that," he asserts, "just- are you or are you not currently courting Quackity?"
"We're not, anyways, he probably doesn't view me like that," Wilbur dismisses.
"But you view him like that?"
Wilbur stares at him for a moment, wishing this conversation would just be over already.
"Fine," he sighs. "Yes, I view him like that. Are you happy?"
"Yes, Wil. You finally admitted it!" he cheers and Wilbur glares grumpily at him. "Now, are you one hundred percent sure that he doesn't see you the same way?"
"Yes! What kinda question is that?"
Now Phil gives him a look. Wilbur feels oddly seen.
"What? I'm not wrong," he continues.
"Mate, you couldn't be further from the truth," Phil says.
Confused, he stands there. There is no way that Quackity likes him back. Sure, he said he was fine with dating him, that he seems happy to talk with Wilbur every time they meet, that jokingly flirt sometimes, that Quackity lets Wilbur preen his wings and- oh. Oh. He is really, really, really oblivious.
"Oh," falls out of his mouth. Phil laughs. "Don't laugh at me," he scoffs embarrassedly, looking away. He must be turning a violent shade of scarlet now.
"You should see the look on your face!"
"It- it wasn't that obvious. Like, you have to understand I'm not on the outside.
"Are you serious? He literally rejects everyone else who offers to preen for him and always is asking where you are. He could not be anymore obvious." Wilbur just stands there awkwardly as he receives this news. "Also, c'mon on, mate. His scent is all over you, you're not hiding from anyone," Phil adds. Wilbur only keeps flushing a darker and darker shade of red.
"Is it really?"
"Yes! You're basically married at this point!" he pushes, "just go tell him you like him like that, it won't go badly. I promise."
"Should I really? I mean, what if he thinks I'm moving too fast or-"
"Stop stressing." Phil puts his hands firmly on both of Wilbur's shoulders, effectively shutting him up. "Go tell him, and if it all goes to shit, I'll be nearby and you can come cry on my shoulder, alright?"
"Alright, okay, I've got this. Thanks, Phil!" he says, and boldly starts moving off to go find him.
It is only when Phil lets him go does he start dreading. Oh, what if he actually was doing this all to get something from it and this was all a ruse? What if he only views me as a brother? What if he hates me now? What if doesn't want this-
His thinking is abruptly interrupted by bumping into someone.
"Oh, fuck, sorry-" he starts apologising, and then he looks at the person properly.
And who else could it be other than Quackity?
"Oh, hi," Wilbur voices simply. The words feel hot and heavy on his tongue. How the hell is he meant to tell him that he like likes Quackity like this?
"Hey, are you okay? Did you hit your head?"
"Yeah- no, I mean I'm fine."
"Okay, um, do you need anything?" Quackity questions.
"Yes, actually, I have- I have something to ask you."
"Oh? What is it?" He tilts his head.
Here goes nothing.
"Quackity, I- uh, it's okay if you say no, by the way," Quackity's eyebrows furrow, bad start, "I just- I just needed to get this off my chest that, uh," he looks over into the distance, and spots Phil giving him a small thumbs up, okay, I can do this, it's just a question, "would you like to go out with me?" he rushes.
"Uh, wait, say that slower because there is no way I heard that right," Quackity speaks, and the way his eyes sparkle is everything.
Wilbur can do this one more time.
"Would you like to go out with me?"
There is a pause.
"Are you serious, are you actually being serious?" That sparkle in his eye has increased tenfold and Quackity is looking up at Wilbur with what might be a loving look. He feels sick in the good way.
"Yes, I am. Do you want-"
He gets cut off by arms flinging around his neck and lips being pressed up to his. Oh, this feels good, is what he registers at first, but once he computes it he finally leans in. Quackity's lips are persistent and firm against his own, kissing him with a fiery passion. I wish I had done this sooner.
Once they part, Wilbur asks, "was that a yes?"
"Yes! Yes, you fucking idiot!" Quackity shouts, before giving him another passionate kiss. He pulls away quickly and there is a string of saliva between them. "I want- I wanna go out with you, Wil. I wanna be your boyfriend and I wanna court you but this time we're both know that we're actually doing it."
"Oh shit, were we courting the entire time?"
Quackity gives him a leer. "Are you being serious? Mr. 'I preened your wings and wait for you everywhere?' What the hell did you think that was?"
"I- I thought it might have been, but I didn't want to pressure you into stuff!"
"Right, I forgot your an idiot."
"Hey!"
"But, you're my idiot now I guess. And yes, I want you, if that wasn't obvious by me never complaining about the scenting thing."
"Oh? Did you like your scent on me?"
"Do you really have to ask that?" he questions, now leaning up closer. Wilbur thinks Quackity might kiss him again, which, wow, that is a thing they are doing now. Together, as boyfriends and partners and wow. "Hey? Are you still there?"
Right, he phased out daydreaming about them.
"Yes, I'm- I'm just happy we're dating and shit now, I've liked you for a while now," he states.
"I kinda guessed, you weren't very good at hiding it."
"Well, it doesn't matter now, does it?" he smiles, a genuine one that looks at Quackity with love and adoration. He is never going to over this high he experiences each time they are together now.
"Yes, guess so. And when do you wanna go out? Like, y'know proper boyfriends."
"Tomorrow night? I can meet you at your roof and we can find somewhere nice. I might even know a place," Wilbur suggests.
"I'd love that," Quackity smiles back at up at him.
And Wilbur looks over to a tree in the distance, and can see Phil's proud smile. Yeah, it might have taken him a little while to realise, but now Quackity is in his arms and Wilbur has no reason to complain.
"Can I kiss you again?" Wilbur puts forward.
"Next time, don't ask," he says, and they are kissing again.
Wilbur might never get over the lemonade bubbles in his stomach, but he could definitely get used to this.