Chapter Text
When Daffy wakes up that morning he feels as if he’s the poster child of comfort. The water in his bathtub is at the perfect temperature from the warm sun flickering through the boards over the bedroom window, and he almost finds himself yawning to roll over again and snuggle back up to a floaty. But the thought of doing another act with Porky today has him rethinking that, flippers suddenly peddling him to the edge where he jumps out with a splash! His eyes turn to his roommate fast asleep, a sudden surge of energy returning to him as he hops atop the pig’s bed and jabbers excitedly.
“Porkman! Wake up! Today’sth a new day justht fulla opportunity!” He shakes Porky’s shoulders with a seemingly manic grin, but all he feels is a twinge of affection rather than the average crazed background noise. “We gotta go get ready! Stheize the day!” His arms don’t seem to tire at all.
Porky grumbles and tries to lazily bath away his assailant’s loudness with a limp, tired hand. Daffy stares unimpressed.
“Porkoooo~ Cmon! We got that huge sthetup today!” Daffy sits his friend up with a wide, unyielding grin. “I’ll makeya breakfastht?” He adds helpfully. That surprisingly wakes Porky up faster than the prospect of a new act at work that day. He thinks that’s preposterous.
“N-NN-Neh-N- ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Porky grabs Daffy by the shoulders and leaps out of bed, rubbing the bags under his eyes as the sudden fear overrides his exhaustion. “Y-ye-yuh-y-you burnt down-t-th the kitchen la-last time.” His eyes look almost haunted. Daffy thinks he’s exaggerating.
“But that ravioli wasth to die for!” He holds a face of faux offense and waddles after Porky to their dilapidated kitchen, trailing water everywhere to the pig’s dismay. They would surely have a mold issue in the near future. “And you never let me practicthe cooking either!” He punctuates each sentence with an aggressive point in his friend’s direction. Porky sighs and finishes dragging on his signature blue jacket, pulling some bowls from their cupboards as soon as his hands are free and gloved. A nail falls from a broken hinge and Daffy watches it land into his own bowl.
“I-if I let you practice th-the-that ravioli would have keh-killed us D-Deh-Daffy.” He passes Daffy his bowl and pours a sad, brown bran into both of their bowls followed by a very likely expired dash of milk. “Now e-ble-uh-eat up.”
“Eeeww..” The duck nudges his bowl. He’s used to it but it’s never really easy to eat their average diet. “Do we have to keep eating thisth brown sthtuff?” He purposefully reaches past the (debatably) edible cereal with a bent spoon and fishes out the nail from earlier, taking a bite of that instead. Porky stares with wide eyes before frowning.
“Weh-we’d be able to a-afford better food if y-yeh-you didn’t b-burn down our kitchen, y-you know.” The pig takes a bite of the cereal and goes pale for a moment before swallowing with great effort. “U-unless you want to eat gr-g-gra- leaves.”
“Would be better than thisth!” Daffy snorts and pours the entire bowl into his mouth with his eyes screwed shut and his nose plugged. He still gags a little before putting the empty bowl and spoon down. Porky surreptitiously pours his own cereal under the table and it slides through a crack in the cheap tile. He doesn’t think it’s worth commenting on.
“N-n-no use worrying on it now.” Porky shrugs and puts their dishes in the sink like the neat freak he is. “N-n-nothing to do uh-about it.”
Daffy, ignoring his comment though not intentionally, finds his gaze locking onto Porky’s daily attire- thinking he’s underdressed for doing the dishes. Porky looks cu- more prepared in an apron when he’s doing chores. It makes him more official! For some reason he doesn’t want to say it out loud though, unlike many of his impulsive thoughts of the past. Must not matter as much as he thought. But he wanted to see the apron again. That’s not weird, is it? He wears it too! Surely Porko would think the same thing.
He almost feels like that would be an odd thing to say, though. Something that would embarrass himself. But he doesn’t feel embarrassed ever. He’s always doing whatever, whenever, for anyone to watch. So why is this different? He spends a minute poking around his bowl with the old spoon before deciding it isn’t worth the brainpower.
Bah, it’s all cereal under the table anyway! There’s more important things at hand, right? He switches gears to work mode again, the way he gets on stage where nothing else but the closest task is at the forefront.
“Righty-ho, Porko! We’ve got a new act to worry about.” He makes to dust himself off and practically drags an protesting Porky out of the front door before he can even think to rescrub the dishes, whistling an old tune and ignoring the heat in his face that rises when their hands are twined together like they were now. “Time to sthtretch the old flying musclesth!”
“D-d-deh- don’t do th-the-this to muh-me.” Porky pleads. He doesn’t listen, wrapping his flippers around his friend’s torso and taking off (albeit with some difficulty) to the studio. It’s selfish of him, but he enjoys getting to carry his roommate around like this. He can’t help it. It takes a shake of his head to get rid of the warmth in his cheeks this time. He must be coming down with something.
“Isthn’t the fresh air nicthe?” Daffy smiles when he’s composed himself, relishing in their closeness and successfully ignoring the fearful gurgles under him.
“D-Deh-DAFFY! Put me DOWN!” Porky shrieks as they narrowly avoid a passing tree on the Warner Brother’s lot. “T-t-t-th- IT’S NOT S-SUH-SAFE!” Daffy looks down like he’s being ridiculous.
“Of coursthe it’sth sthafe!” He unintentionally spits a bit in the pig’s face. “I have a flying licensthe, after all. Comesth with the wingsth- package deal!” Porky is glaring now. They near the front door to the studio and Porky’s grossed-out face from earlier pales in intensity to his anger right now. He almost regrets doing this, he thinks, dropping Porky to the ground with a thud.
He, unhelpfully might Porky add, pats his friend on the back.
“Y-y-yeh-you’re d-deh-dastardly,” the pig says as they walk inside.
-
Daffy’s been banished to the wardrobe for now by Porky for being ‘dastardly,’ as he so eloquently put it. It’s a small corner some ways away from the main stage that has a decent view while being wholly separate from the busier parts of the workplace. His good mood from this morning refuses to diminish, though! They still have that awesome new act to complete and he loves nothing more than being side by side with Porkman on stage.
What’s a little people watching while he waits?
He peeks over an oversized jacket in a pile of discarded clothing and spies on everyone in its cover.
Bugs is talking to Pepe by the director’s chair and he sees them dealing cards to each other. Must be another game of go-fish. Pepe never does win, though.
Boring! Next.
Penelope is giving Tweety a new whistle to call whenever Sylvester starts being annoying again. Nothing like their cartoons, but he can be a real pest when it comes to socializing. Not like he’d know anything about being a pest, of course. Maybe he gets a pass for being a higher ranked actor? It doesn't make sense to him.
Alas- still boring! Next.
Porky is talking to Petunia and handing her a letter of some sort. Daffy’s eyes bug out and he finds himself focusing all of a sudden, hands tensed in front of him and bill poking further out from behind the jacket. He’s not sure why he cares so much but it feels like something is caught in his throat when Porky’s eyes twinkle mirthfully towards someone that’s not him. Why does he feel like he can’t swallow all of a sudden?
Petunia says something else and Porky is laughing. He didn’t laugh at or with Daffy today. What’s the big deal? He’s about to storm over when someone clears their throat behind him. His head turns curiously to a pair of long ears.
“Daffy, youse look real suspicious like t’at. Whatcha up to?” It’s Bugs- apparently he and Pepe weren’t enjoying that card game very much. Maybe the skunk got tired of losing. He’s chewing a carrot and eyeing Porky and Petunia not unlike Daffy himself. Daffy thinks he has a sixth sense for any drama going on at the studio, like a radio signal only his big ears can detect.
“Oh! Bugsth. Heya!” He hops out of the jacket pile and enthusiastically shakes the rabbit’s hand, jostling him enough to make his ears vibrate in place. “Justht.. sthightstheeing.” He peeks over at the duo of pigs again with a hardly restrained scowl, arms crossing unknowingly. Porky is gesturing wildly like he’s telling a story now, Petunia laughing some more. Bugs raises an eyebrow.
“Sure looks like’t. You t’ink they’re an item?”
Oddly that makes Daffy glare. The idea sickens him! He doesn’t know why but it does and it makes his chest hurt! The rabbit does a double take at him at the ferocity of his expression.
“Yeesh, you like her or somethin?’”
He scoffs at the very notion. She was nothing like Porky! Porky was funny and put up with his nonsense wake-up calls and pranks and and - and he was way better looking too! Objectively speaking, of course. Nobody looked half as good in an apron- and why is he still thinking about the apron? He makes most of this known to Bugs who looks conflicted about something.
“Earth to Bugsth Bunny?” Daffy prods carefully, worried he’d said something wrong even though that was very unprobable considering all he did was rave about Porky being awesome- which he was!
“Say uh.. you like Porky then?” Bugs decides on.
He opens his bill to say something but it clicks shut again from pure.. pure dumbfoundery! Because what kind of ridiculous idea is that? Daffy chooses to laugh nervously in lieu of a response, vehemently shaking his head afterwards when he finally gets the nerve to deny the statement.
“What? No, no! Of coursthe not. Porky’s a guy- like you an’ me pal! Plusth, he’sth a plenty great friend! You can like your friendsth, Bugsth. Nothin’ to’t!” His rambling goes on until he notices Bugs is remaining as unconvinced as he was before he started talking. “..nothin to’t.” His voice trails off uncertainly and he feels his face warming. He thinks he IS capable of embarrassment, now that he thinks about it, hands wrung together in what feels like knots.
“Yeah…” Bugs says slowly, like he’s trying to soften a blow of sorts. The rabbit peeks back at the two pigs chatting amicably by the stage again. “Alright doc. So you don’t like like ‘im. But uh, yeh still want ‘is attention more on you t’an her.”
Daffy grabs onto the excuse like a lifeline. He’s got a lot to ponder later for sure.
“Yep! That’sth it! Nailed it on the head there, rabbit! WhaddoIdo?” He grabs Bugs by the shoulders and shakes spastically, giving the bunny 0 time to think. Bugs shakes out the birds from his eyes before replying, naturally.
“Uhhh.. how about doing somet’ing you don’t normally do? T’at oughta get ‘is attention. Like eh… withholding your urges? You never do t’at.”
He did have a point, if not an almost rude one that anyone but Daffy would find offense in. But what were his urges, anyway? Now that he thinks about it most of them were pretty violent, he could do away with those for a little bit. But the rest? Those were all his hugs and pounces and kisses, the likes of which were usually directed onto the studio pig. All in jest, of course. The conversation about liking Porky comes back to his head at the thought and he pushes it away to the best of his ability.
“Great idea Busgthy boy! What a pal you are! I’ve got it!” He gives Bugs another aggressive handshake and leaves him in a cloud of dust to go work out his plan.
-
Bugs stands there in silence. When Pepe comes back to ask him where he went in the middle of the game, he’s silent for ten whole seconds before answering.
“I t’ink I just found out somet’ing crazy about Daffy.”
“He is normally that way.. no?” Pepe shrugs. It was common knowledge that Daffy's crazy antics were not an act, and just his personality. Probably why he was so successful.
“Trust me, doc.” He leaves out the part where he bullshitted some advice. Best to not be attached to whatever is about to happen. “You’ll see.”
The director calls for a start to the new scene and Bugs grabs some popcorn from his hammer space- because a cartoon without Daffy’s urges might be the funniest thing he’ll see this year.