(The following was originally posted to my LiveJournal yesterday. Please check out my LiveJournal because I always post things there first and some things never even get posted over here at all; the link is in my profile. And as before I'm not posting this fic as a crossover because then it would only show up in the crossover section.)
This is what is hopefully the first chapter of a Drake/Darkwing X Fenton/GizmoDuck chapter fic. Hopefully...
There are some things I like about this and some things I don't, overall I'm feeling kind of neutral towards it...
Title: Bad Days
Series: Darkwing Duck/DuckTales
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Drake Mallard/Darkwing Duck X Fenton Crackshell/GizmoDuck (mostly one-sided), Drake Mallard/Darkwing Duck X Morgana Macawber (or however you spell it) (none in this chapter and probably mostly just mentioned in laters)
Warnings: Slash, references to sex, angst, Darkwing being an epic!jerk, I guess violence
Disclaimer: Characters and world do not belong to me, but you knew that.
Summary: One drunken night is not so easily forgotten.
Notes: I really know nothing about alcohol but I once asked my mom if she had ever been really drunk and if so how well could she remember things in the morning and she reluctantly admitted that she had and that she could remember things pretty well.
Oh, and at one point in the fic I have to mention what time it is; I have changed that number so many times and I don't think I'll ever be happy with it so just ignore it.
AND, one last thing, there's more of my failure at dealing with secret identities here.
Drake slowly drifted to (semi-)consciousness, his mind and body still mostly floating in a misty haze of comfortableness. He shifted lazily under the fluffy covers, not wanting to rise just yet. Soft light shone through his eyelids from somewhere causing him to scrunch his eyes slightly but not disturbing him that much, especially after he shifted a little more. Warm arms wrapped a little tighter around Drake's waist making him mumble a little and wrap his arms tighter around his companion in return. Drake didn't think he had ever felt this comfortable before.
His companion nuzzled their beak into Drake's chest, giving him happy fuzzy feelings. Yes, he definitely couldn't remember ever being this comfortable before.
But, as he became more awake, something was nagging at him in the back of his mind, telling him that something was wrong. And, as hard as he tried to ignore the feeling and go back to being so comfortable, it became harder and harder to ignore.
And so, ever so reluctantly, Drake blearily pried his eyes open to look around. Nothing immediately jumped out at him and he briefly considered closing his eyes and going back to sleep.
… Wait a minute, where exactly was he?
He opened his eyes a little wider and blinked dumbly as he finally realized he was in unfamiliar surroundings. He moved his head around to examine the room more. Was he in a hotel?
As more and more wakefulness returned he propped himself up slightly on one arm, still looking around the room and slowly becoming aware of a headache. He felt the arms currently wrapped around his waist shift slightly in reaction to him moving and finally looked to see his bed companion.
Oh god.
Drake bolted upright; staring straight ahead. He was suddenly very awake, not to mention very aware of a nasty headache. For some time he couldn't bear to look back to see his companion again (who still had their arms wrapped around his waist), not wanting to confirm what he had already seen.
Finally, he peered back to see who was unmistakably one Fenton Crackshell AKA GizmoDuck looking quite content with his arms wrapped around Drake Mallard AKA Darkwing Duck.
"Oh god, oh god, oh god…" Drake began muttering like a mantra, head whipping forward again so he couldn't see Fenton. "Oh god, oh god, oh god…"
Last night was rushing back to him and he was busily trying to fight the memories back because this simply could not be happening. It could not have happened. He just couldn't have. He most certainly hadn't gotten drunk and slept with GizmoDuck last night. NO HE HAD NOT. No. No. No, no, no, no no no no nononononono…
"Ohgodohgodohgodohgod…" his muttering sped up.
"F've m're m'nutes, M'ma…" Drake jumped as the still mostly asleep Fenton mumbled something, apparently disturbed by Drake's muttering.
Drake watched with wide eyes as Fenton grumbled; when Drake had jumped he had jumped away from Fenton, causing the other duck to lose his grip on Drake's waist. This seemed to bother Fenton, who made a few odd motions with his arms before managing to find Drake again and sleepily pulling himself over to the caped crusader. He then promptly wrapped his arms back around Drake and cuddled into the other duck's stomach while making a cute little happy noise not unlike a kitten or puppy or some other sickly adorable tiny baby creature.
Drake was left rather stupefied for a few moments, not sure what to think about Fenton's actions, before snapping out of it and realizing he should probably wake the sleeping accountant up. (Though a little voice in the back of his head was telling him to get the hell out of there now before Fenton woke up, he wisely chose to ignore it.)
"…GizmoDuck! Fenton!" Drake said as he laid a hand on Fenton's shoulder and shook him slightly. "Wake up!"
Fenton just grumbled a little more and nuzzled into Drake's stomach again, giving Drake pleasant tingles that he silently cursed himself for feeling.
"Wake up, Fenton!" Drake shouted, putting both hands on Fenton's shoulders and attempting to push the accountant off.
"Mm, what?" finally, Fenton sleepily opened his eyes to see a very frustrated Drake Mallard looking back at him. "…Wingy?" Fenton rubbed at one eye with a hand (having let go of Drake a moment ago). He then removed the hand and blinked, wide eyed, at Drake, who glowered back at him. "Wingy!" he suddenly yelled joyfully, throwing himself at Drake.
Drake flinched at Fenton's yell, as he was feeling distinctly hungover now, and after taking a moment to recover quickly began trying to pry Fenton's arms off him again. "Be quiet!" he hissed, and Fenton finally allowed himself to be pulled back. He looked a little confused by Drake's anger. "Aren't you even a little hungover?" Drake asked quietly, with an air of forced patience.
Fenton looked down. "No, not really…" he said while fiddling slightly with the sheets.
"Well, I am."
"I'll get you a glass of water!" Fenton shouted abruptly and shot out of the bed, apparently off to retrieve a glass of water.
Drake flinched again at Fenton's raised voice, then watched rather bemusedly as Fenton left to find water before closing his eyes and scrunching his face up slightly. He was trying to think of how he could get out of here as soon as possible without being rude. (That same little voice from earlier wasn't concerned about being rude and still wanted to get the hell out of there, but he continued to ignore it.)
"Here you go!" Drake jumped slightly as a glass of water was shoved into his face. Fenton beamed as Drake took the glass then continued to smile as he watched Drake drink.
Feeling a little unnerved, Drake held the glass in front of him and warily eyed Fenton. The accountant just kept smiling. After taking another sip Drake put his water on the end table; he then turned back to Fenton and opened his beak as if to say something.
When no words came Drake quickly closed his beak again and cleared his throat; Fenton was watching him curiously now. Drake found it rather hard to meet Fenton's eyes so instead glanced around the room.
"…What time is it?" Drake asked.
And then jumped again when Fenton shot out of the bed for the second time that morning and next thing he knew an analogue clock (presumably grabbed from the wall) was being shoved in his face.
"It's nine!" proclaimed Fenton loudly.
"I see," Drake replied dryly, although he didn't since the clock was too close to his face. He gave Fenton a moment's chance to remove the clock from such close proximity and when Fenton failed to do so Drake snatched the clock out of Fenton's hands rather roughly. Fenton looked surprised and then hurriedly turned his eyes downward and began to fiddle with the sheets again.
Drake felt oddly guilty.
"I, uh…" Fenton started uncertainly, still looking down. "Sorry, I just…" Was he scooting closer?
Drake promptly slipped out of the bed and stood on the carpeted hotel floor (placing the clock on the end table next to the water). Fenton's head shot up when the mattress shifted and he looked quite distressed to see Drake about to walk away.
"Wait!" he shouted, throwing himself forward and grabbing Drake's arm. "Where are you going?!"
"To find my clothes and get dressed," Drake answered flatly.
"Let me help!" For the third time that morning Fenton shot out of the bed; however, this time didn't go so well. His feet got tangled in the covers on the bed, causing him to fall painfully onto the floor.
Drake wavered for a moment before walking over to where Fenton lay groaning on the floor. He loomed over the other duck who looked up at him and grinned sheepishly.
"Whoops."
"Looks like you're the one who needs help…" muttered Drake before reaching down to help untangle Fenton from the blanket.
"Thanks, Wingy," Fenton said as he stood up after being untangled. He shifted on his feet slightly, giving Drake an odd look and seeming to lean forward just a little as though he wanted to do something. Drake quickly turned around.
"Let's find our clothes."
"All I'm saying, Wingy, is that just because we were drunk doesn't mean it didn't mean anything!"
Darkwing pulled on Fenton's shirt much harder than was necessary to straighten it and continued to glare at Fenton. The eager accountant had insisted upon helping Drake with his clothes but Darkwing wasn't sure why he was returning the favor; he had just started doing it without thinking.
"…Um, I mean, I'm not saying it absolutely 100% had to mean something but just that I really think you should at least consider or even consider considering that maybe it did mean just a little-"
"Fenton," Darkwing grumbled while finishing buttoning up Fenton's shirt.
"Yes, Wingy?"
"Shut up."
Fenton did. For at least long enough for Darkwing to pick up his waistcoat, anyways.
"…You still got that hangover?" Fenton asked as Darkwing put the waistcoat on him.
"Yes."
"Maybe you should eat something, or at least have some more water." Fenton began to move away but Darkwing stopped him by pulling roughly on Fenton's waistcoat, accidently causing a button to pop off.
They both stared down at the button laying on the carpet for a bit before Darkwing picked it up, muttering "Sorry," apologetically.
"'S all right…" replied Fenton quietly as Darkwing finished buttoning up the buttons left on the waistcoat.
To Darkwing's relief, there was a period of silence while he finished getting Fenton dressed. During the silence he had a brief worrisome thought about coming in here in costume and what if the hotel manager was a gossip before distantly remembering a drunk and giggly Fenton telling Darkwing he should hide behind a plant while Fenton got them a room.
Darkwing snapped out of his thoughts when he realized that he had already finished dressing Fenton and still had his hands on the other duck (resting somewhere between his chest and his shoulders); Darkwing quickly tried to remove his hands but they were stopped by Fenton grabbing them and pulling the masked mallard forward.
Their beaks bumped together in a clumsy kiss, one that Fenton seemed to have been working up the courage to initiate all morning. At first Darkwing was unresponsive, then, just for half-a-second, 'though he would never admit it, he kissed back, before hastily pulling away.
He pushed Fenton away, causing the other duck to stumble but not fall. Fenton gazed at him with sad eyes but didn't look too surprised.
"What do you think you're doing?!" Darkwing raged. "I told you that IT DIDN'T MEAN ANYTHING! It was just one drunken night and even if it meant something to you, it didn't mean anything to me so we're just going to forget about it! All right!? You know, I bet this was all some twisted plot of yours to sleep with me! Well I don't want sort of sick feelings you have for me, just LEAVE ME ALONE!"
"But you kissed me first!" Fenton protested.
Darkwing didn't really remember swinging his fist, but the next thing he knew his knuckles hurt and Fenton laying on the floor. Darkwing felt nothing but coldness as he watched Fenton slowly pick himself up, not meeting Darkwing's eyes.
With a little spin, Darkwing turned around and walked to a window, which he then opened wide. He cast an icy glance back at Fenton (who was standing now and staring at him looking utterly defeated).
"This never happened," Darkwing said before slipping out of the window and leaving Fenton alone.
As he held back a sob, Fenton absently thought that Darkwing still had his button.
A/N: Geez, Darkwing's a jerk. D: He may have several reasons for being such a jerk here (being hungover, dealing with the fact that he slept with a guy last night, not to mention a guy he doesn't really care much for, etc.) but he's still a jerk. And I wanna hug poor Fenton... I will try to make later chapters happier.
HEY, HEY, now. I want to ask something. I want people to write me some Drake/Darkwing X Fenton/GizmoDuck! Please, for me? Something fluffy, perhaps? Sorry, I normally wouldn't ask but I really really want to see more of this pairing. _
Anyways, please comment/review (I am so lazy about my cross-posting). Even if you don't have a lot to say, just a little "I like it" or "It's good, please continue" would mean the world to me. 3