Work Text:
Wilford's 'apartment' existed in a pocket held within two timelines over the vastness of space. It was a quaint little place, pale pink walls and a disco ball hung from the lounge room's ceiling that somehow only shone in a low dotted light radiating warmth. An array of multiversal clutter decorated every area, plants with all sorts of colours and shapes, unknown to your average earthian. Little knick-knacks lived upon every surface; a rainbow pocket knife, twelve packets of pink blow up balloons strung all over the kitchen, several stacks of books in hieroglyphic languages and a small blue, glowing stone.
A wooden coat-hanger stood next to the interdimensional doorway, the largest display of coloured scarves and bowties hung upon it, accompanied by a pink afro wig hastily snagged onto a hook.
Between banana yellow and soft aqua chiffon shirts or shiny white boots he simply can't decide! Screw this tiny suitcase and it's limited amount of space! Wait, just a... moment. Wilford sighs, old-timey cursing under his breath before opening up several interstellar pockets of time within his bright pink suitcase. He hears a quiet groan echo from the living room, laced with dissatisfaction if he were to guess. Wilford perks up, dropping all the items in his hands and rushing out from his bedroom. He blinks and he's at the end of his short hallway, funny that, it should have taken him at least several more steps!
Within his sight stands a tall blonde, smooth tan skin painted on in what he can only imagine to be the softest of strokes. His gaze slides up a built expanse of back muscle, every subtle shift in the other's shoulders making themselves known through the tight black fabric of a shirt that leaves almost nothing to the imagination, luckily Wilford's is quite extraordinary. He's salivating, unable to stop himself from giddily jumping through short instances of reality to land right behind the other.
He circles his arms around the man's waist from behind, making the other flinch in surprise before his darling doll is turning around to wrap those deliciously bulky arms over his neck. That gorgeous smile, it always seems to have him quite mesmerised. Wilford tightens the grip upon his lover's waist, lifting him up and spinning them around. Ken giggles and squirms, gently holding onto his neck for support as he mewls more delighted sounds that only seek to further warm Wilford's cold body down to the core. They eventually slow down, coming to a stop as he lowers the other back to the ground.
His doll looks positively cheery, aligning with Wilford's exact intent the moment he'd heard him. Perfectly tanned hands glide up to hold his jaw, delicate in their movements. Ken stares into his eyes with such genuine, unbridled care that his gut reaction is look away immediately. However, he won't, he'd spend every last infinite second he would ever have looking into those beauteous ocean eyes. He's pulled forward to meet the other's lips in a quiet display of long awaited passion. They shift back mere inches away from eachother's faces before reuniting in another several kisses. He simply couldn't help himself! His boyfriend had been away an entire week in barbieland. Attending several offical meetings with barbies to ensure Wilford's safe passage to their world. Because, indeed, he was packing to finally meet his love's friends and family.
Sue him for snagging another kiss or two! He gently kneads his fingers into the pesky fabric covering the other's waist, grumbling slightly at the lack of contact. Wilford doesn't waste another moment hooking his hands under the shirt's hem and moving to explore the warm skin hiding under it. Ken chuckles at his hastiness, pulling him back in for one more kiss with a sigh of momentary relief. Forehead's touching, they breathe in silence, just enjoying being in one another's presence. "Missed you.." his doll mumbles, absent-mindedly twirling little tufts of dark hair that curl on the back of his neck. He really must book that haircut soon.
He somehow musters the strength to pull away, too weak to completely break contact with the other as they hold hands. Wilford loses himself tracing little patterns on the top of Ken's hand with his thumb. The other seems far away himself, collecting his thoughts. Patiently, he waits, continuing to trace smooth skin in the meantime. He hears another put-out sigh, concerning him a little.
"So.. we have full permission to enter barbieland, finally"
Wilford nods, picking up on the other's souring mood that completely juxtaposed his statement.
"Well that's amazing! Incredible! What's wrong?"
He can see the other's eyes widening slightly like a deer caught in the headlights. It's absolutely adorable, leaving him to smirk at the sheer naivety of his perplexed partner.
"Oh come now darling! You really think I can't tell when you're not feeling right?"
Ken appears to compose himself, becoming particularly interested in his lover's hand as he uses both of his own to fiddle with his.
"It's just.. i've never brought anyone home before" his doll appears wound down at the sentiment, fidgeting with the hand held in a quiet contemplation. What could possibly have him so nervous? They'd had many conversations about his home, the other expressing a deep melancholy when reminded of his fellow barbies. He'd thought it was clear homesickness, proven when his lover seemed so excited at Wilford's suggestion of visiting barbieland together a month ago. Whatever the matter, he feels the need to fix it immediately. Returning his arms around the other's waist, he splays large hands across supple tan skin that he just couldn't keep himself from. Without a hand to stimulate him, Ken brings his arms up round his neck again, basking in a solemn comfort as he shifts down to rest his head against Wilford's shoulder. He presses a soft kiss to the side of his doll's forehead, holding him close and lowering the sound of his voice in an attempt to further soothe him.
"I'm certain they'll be delighted to see us my sweetheart"
They stay frozen for awhile, content in eachother's embrace. He lets the other lean on him for the rest of the cosmotic everlasting time they have within his apartment. He'll call it an afternoon for the sake of discrepancy. Reaching through miniature time pockets inside his little suitcase to fit their equally massive hoard of outfits and knick-knacks, his hand snags upon a velvety shirt of which he can't distinguish who's it is. Their styles are so similar he's found himself accidentally wearing one of Ken's shirts from time to time. Well, by accidentally he means totally not stealing clothes that smell like fresh primrose and musky glitter leaving him breathlessly calmed by the scent of his favourite person. It's definitely one hundred percent accidental.
He finds himself throwing on a pastel hoodie in the low lighting of his living room, the words 'I am Kenough' embroidered across his chest. It's the softest piece of fabric he's ever worn and he outright refuses to return it.
His boyfriend is curled upon their baby pink couch, an assortment of oddly shaped plush pillows surrounding him. He's caught up in a cloth-bound hieroglyphic grimoire perched upon his lap, Wilford doubts his lovely doll can read it though, considering the book is layered with several unintelligible scriptures but he seems enamoured with curiosity none the less. Summoning a fluffy throw blanket from his room, he wraps it around the other's shoulders. Wilford is rewarded for that with a kiss, the sickeningly sweet taste lingering on his tongue.
He's able to cram several more spunky outfits in a star slot of never-ending antimatter before placing his hands on his hips. That should be plenty! He'd had the forethought of starting with the essentials like hygiene products and stuffed animals. Zipping up their suitcase, he places it by his portaled door that shines from the entryway. They're both attached to one another after, laying against the couch while wandering hands glide over every patch of skin within access until Ken is hiking up his hoodie to wrap his arms around him properly, hands beginning to trace over his back. Wilford's breath is stolen from him the moment the other nestles between his neck and the fuzzy fabric of his pastel hood. He can feel the moistened vibrations against him with each kiss pressed down, his hand rising only to sink into soft blonde hair, gripping slightly as the other nips near his jugular.
They stumble to their bedroom later, fits of giggles sounding down the hallway all the while keeping interlinked the entire way. He pulls his man down with him onto silky pink sheets, hands eagerly feeling over one another through sporadic kisses in their haste to undress. Once comfortable and satiated, Wilford falls into a steady rest surrounded by the warmth of his greatest love. His doll's head lays upon his chest, bleached hair tickling his skin. He runs his fingers through those locks for as long as he can, blissful within the subtle rosy lighting of the room before finally submerging into the depths of sleep.
⌛︎ ...
Barbieland is quite the outlandish view.
They'd packed plenty of snacks but Wilford had immediately noticed the very fabric of his genetics shifting over the course of their journey. His hunger began to vanish, along with his need for thirst or any of those pesky functions that came with harbouring a living body. Must've been the wind.
He'd noticed his boyfriend grow antsy during the ride, fidgeting with the bottom hem of a soft, muted blue button up that was Wilford's once upon a time. He'd subtly splayed one hand over the doll's thigh, rubbing gentle ministrations in quiet company. A clashing overlayed array of pink obscured his vision in every single shade that had ever been created. Something so jaw-droppingly beautiful had only existed in his craziest of daydreams, of course the love of his life was from here.
Steadily slowing their decoratively rainbow limo to a stop around what appeared to be some arch of an entrance, a crowd of colourful barbies arrive to greet them. In a complete match to their surroundings, everyone is dressed in bright pops of colour and mixed patterns, all smiles upon flawless skin just like his own doll. A pretty pink car sits perfectly parked in front of them, he's a little intrigued while sliding out from the driver's seat. Oh- wait, had he opened the door? He seems to have appeared outside the car, dastard dimensional abilities!
A curvy silhouette of dark pink somehow stands out amongst the crowd, pushing forward until a face flushed with a grin emerges. "Ken! Oh my god!" She squeals, making her way over just as his boyfriend has the limo door open, hopping out and rushing in for a sudden hug. He engulfs her small frame, chuckling with such a fondness that it has Wilford a little miffed. Ken rests his head upon her equally blonde hair, a weight lifting off his shoulders in real time the longer they hug. It irks him to no end, while he's endlessly joyful at the thought of his love having others that make him happy, Wilford was plentily more than capable thank you!
More barbies attract in warm greetings, rushing over to Ken and the other blonde in a flurry of brewing coversations. His doll seems rather elated, grinning from ear to ear as he looks around at everybarbie. A gentle smile begrudgingly etches itself onto his face, he can't help but feel infinitely better at the sight of his love's happiness. Wilford busies himself gripping his limousine's wider door handle to the bigger compartment, opening to find his black void of never-ending nothingness existing within the confines of the car. Ah, sweet darkness, he reaches his hand in, watching it disappear as he feels around for their suitcase. He knows he left it in here somewhere, sifting through several unimportant portals to other multiverses in search of the thing. Fiddle sticks! Where was that damn suitcase!?
Something taps upon his shoulder, upheaving him from his search. Wilford twists around to see a man or- boy? He was quite young in the face, thin ginger hair flattened on top of his nervous form. The boy fumbles for a moment at his questioning glance, "Hi! Um, i'm Allan- do you need help with that?" He gestures to the unveiled void, eyes shifting back and forth from him to it. The barbie curiously lifts his hand towards it as Wilford sucks in a breath, moving to stop him "I wouldn't-" he seems to have miscalculated a step. You see, moving through constant spools of reality will do that to a person. Allan reaches through the void to help him, Wilford tries speaking up only to be cut off by a shrill scream.
The crowd behind them all turn, his boyfriend raising an eyebrow in a befuddled sense of worry. Allan pulls his hand back or, what used to be his hand, now replaced with a melted mutilated stump, dripping glittery pink juice onto the ground. Allan screams again, along with several barbies behind them. Wilford can't help but sigh at the boy's lunacy, risking a nervous glance towards his own doll. A look of slight horror meets him... whoopsie.
Chuckling in the hopes of defusing fickle tension, he grips onto the other's mutilated arm, pulling him around the other side of the limo to obscure their bodies from the crowd, all while sending a hopeful little smile towards his lover. Allan is a stumbling crying mess next to him, despite being unable to produce any real tears, he really works for it. Wilford huffs as the wails continue to grate against his eardrums, roughly pulling on the other's dripping appendage to shut him up. "Calm down you bafoon! I'll have you fixed up in just a tick!" he spells out some of that otherworldly timey-wimey magic before suddenly holding up Allan's shiny little hand to his face, shaking it back and forth. "Look! You're perfectly fine! Take your two tiny hands now and let us join everybarbie else, hm?"
A blanket of calm drapes over the crowd as they walk back from behind the rainbow tinted car. Allan scuttles over, fearful but no longer writhing with noise. Wilford prolongs facing his disaster by reaching into the bottomless void once more to only now find their blinking suitcase! He pulls the handle out with ease, planting the little thing on the ground beside him before shutting the door in a hurry to contain a cluster of barbie panic. Wilford turns to find many bewildered faces staring back.
"Ha! Apologies for... that."
He had wanted to make a good impression.
At least his own doll is still rather smitten with him, a softer grin adorning his face. He gestures to his blonde friend before they begin making their way over. The plastic crowd seems lost within a cacophony of conversations once more, easing him a little. A tanned pair of arms circle his waist, melting the cold exterior as his boyfriend presses a sweetened kiss to his cheek. "Barbie, this is Wilford! Will, meet Barbie" he muses, an excitement emanating from his lover as he turns his head from him to Barbie and back.
"Wait just a moment! This is BarbieBarbie? Your barbie?"
A tinge of pink rises over Ken's cheeks, unaware that it's very existence goes against the rules of the world it finds itself in. Wilford had that effect sometimes, what with his multiversal form. His doll splutters "Well, not my barbie but.. yeah." Oh, so this is the barbie he'd been secretly gathering evidence and plotting to frame her for an entire murder in the instance that she ever said anything mean to Ken again! ...He's a teency tiney miniscule bit protective, so what? Feigning a demeanour of joyful surprise, he reaches out to greet her with a ridiculously tight handshake.
"Barbie! It is just lovely to meet you! My Ken talks of you and your adventures often!" he moustachedly grins at her, eyes widening with a sense of vigour.
She's laughing nervously at his display, greeting him back with "Oh.. that's wonderful! Hopefully not too often" she jokes. He nods in tandem, unlaughingly still while smiling perhaps a tad too wide. Wrapping one arm around his darling doll's back, he shifts forward a slight infront of him.
"What a prize you are! Is lunch about to be served? I am just famished if I do say so myself!"
He doesn't feel hunger, none of them do. But alas pinkish tables and chairs adorn the ground centre of barbieland. A pastel array of streamers and balloons strung up and around in preparation for celebration. He's really starting to love this place, gosh it's magnificently preposterous! Barbie grins back at them, forgetful as she's lost within the gorgeous world herself it seems. "Let's eat!" the blonde exclaims, grinning at Ken before taking one of their hands each and pulling them forward haphazardly.
Plastic pink plates and cutlery align every long table, covered in confetti and sparkles. He's seated next to his boyfriend who excitedly rises from the table, grabbing their plates before hastily kissing his cheek again while muttering a quick "be right back, i know what you like!" and skipping away. Wilford's eyes follow from behind as he goes, trying to catch the way fragments of light filter across the most perfectly bulbous-
"So what brings you to barbieland?"
Blasted! He forces himself to look back towards whoever is rudely interrupting his quiet ogling. A pale ken seats himself across the table, smirking with one strong arm resting against the surface as he leans forward. Dark hair graciously fans over his head, fluffed perfectly, he notices a distinct similarity to himself in the ken's appearance. Sitting up slightly, Wilford's smile is mirthful.
"Wilford William J. Barnum Warfstache The 3rd, I was invited"
He sticks out his hand, ever entertained by the ken's taken aback expression. The other schools it soon enough, returning to a smooth cockiness Wilford somewhat loathes.
"Cool name, I'm Ken. Just wondering, who invites a pretty little thing like you, only to leave them sitting all alone?"
The ken shifts to rest his chin against his hand, staring deeply into Wilford's eyes over the tabletop. Golly! He'd expected an equally large gaggle of eccentric barbies that reflected his own strangeness but.. a ken flirting with him was not on his bingo card. He quickly looks down while pulling out the sheet, checking over all the boxes and- hm, no, he's quite right but, oh! Would you look at that! Wilford crosses out 'accidental removal of limbs' with a pink highlighter. If he could just capture one diagonal row he'd be able buy himself a new pair of dancing shoes!
By the gift of some god, his own loveable ken is returning, a soft smile upon his lips as he closes in. It's rubbed off just as quickly and Wilford watches as his expression sours, Ken's eyes locked onto Ken who's been staring for far too long now.
"Hey honey! ...Ken"
Setting down their plates full of fake props, (oh, his deepest apologies, he meant food of course) his boyfriend sends a rather cutting glare towards Ken. The other's sultry smirk morphs into an annoying grin as they begin an all out ken-off.
"How nice to see you Ken! How's the real world?"
His doll takes a stilted seat beside him, grumbling back;
"It's perfect, actually! How's your exact same day every day Ken?"
Ken tilts his head in response "Just wonderful as always Ken" then his grin widens "Hey, how's Barbie? You still like her right? Still hanging onto her every word while she ignores your existence?"
His lover sours even further.
"Wouldn't you like to know Ken! and i'm dating someone!"
"Ooooooooo, Ken's got a girrrllfriennndd"
"No!-"
"Ha! I knew it! You've got zero game Ken"
"Actually i do Ken, meet my boyfriend, Will!"
He's gently grabbed by his shirt and pulled into his sour doll's side. Ken stares for a moment, a silence filling the air around them. Then he laughs, unable to compose himself while leaning over the table in a fit of giggles.
"Okay, yeah, sure, like anyone has ever wanted to date stereotypical Ken!"
A certain hellfire burns beneath his skin. If there is one detrimental thing he absolutely despises, it's a bully. Wilford had never really cared about anyone the way he cares about Ken. His darling doll, his angelic light that had brought so much colour into his life that the disco club had begun looking dull in comparison. In the blink of an eye, he's wormhole jumped forward, locking the other ken in a chokehold. An eruption of shouts echo around him but he's far too focused on squeezing all the condensed air out of this waste of plastic! He can feel his throat growing raw as he lays into this ken just exactly the kinds of things he does to people like him.
"TAKE THAT BACK NOW! Before I dismantle you limb from limb and ship each particle to a different dimension in the hopes of your discontinued existence!!"
Ken garbles out a slew of terrified nonsense, seemingly having never been threatened in his life.
"Will-"
"Listen carefully, you do not want to make an enemy out of me, apologise to my wife immediately!"
"Honey i'm not-"
"APOLOGISE!"
Ken's hands are sliding up and down his arms in a futile attempt to dislodge them from his throat. It won't do though, he's unfortunately killed far too many people to not know exactly when to tighten his bleeding grip. In an effort to talk, a whine of unintelligible notes leave his whimpering mouth. Wilford loosens the weight on his neck just a slight, leaving him one scrap of air to speak.
"S-s.. sorry!"
The doll rasps.
"Sorry, who?"
"K-Ken! I'm m- sorry Ken! So sorry!"
Releasing a pressurised grasp around his neck, Wilford steps back with a rather heated glare never leaving Ken's form. That is until tanned fingers clamp down on his wrist, pulling him away from the crowd of barbies he'd garnered. Tucked behind a thin pink wall, he worries that he might’ve gone too far there. He'd only wanted to make sure his boyfriend was respected like everybarbie else! Sifting through waves of loinstirringly luscious blue, those eyes take on a watery film. Now he really should have stuck his foot in his mouth, damn this whole day!
"Let me apologise my darling, i only meant to threaten him in good faith! Never in this forever lasting existence do you deserve to be treated like that and I simply couldn't just sit there and let that bimbotastic doll insult you in such a way!"
He takes not even half a breath, in absolute refusal of the other speaking before he can finish his note of sincerity.
"Never the less, I am deeply sorry if i-"
Ken pulls his face towards him in a rush, pressing their lips together within a bruising kiss. A wondrous taste meets him once more and he savours every last silky drop. Shuffling away mere inches to regain a semblance of breath before immediately being bombarded with another round of fierce passion raving through glossy pink lips.
"Are you kidding me!?"
Another kiss,
"That was the hottest thing-"
And another,
"-I've ever seen! You really-"
Once more,
"-stood up for me."
A different ken walks by, shock overtaking his features. Wilford glares within a menacing display, wrapping both hands around his love's waist in the middle of their enchanting make-out. The other ken's face transforms into a fearful one, treading away lightly as if the man's very eyes are burning into him, melting down hard plastic. Pleased, Wilford returns all of his attention to the doll he's downright heels over head for, crowding him against the wall and beginning to devour his soft clavicle, leaving a trail of little nips and kisses, if only for the delicious noises he's granted in return. He'll take care of his darling forever. Whatever he wanted, needed, yearned for, he could provide for the lowest price of basking in the other's presence.
He'll be threatening a couple more barbies if this is the reaction that entails.