Wilbur checked the time, he'd been standing here for a while now, just staring into the fish tank in Quackity's stupid restaurant.

"What are you doing in here, Wilbur?"

Wilbur turned and gave a wide smile. "Quackity! What a lovely surprise."

"Shouldn't be much of a surprise considering you're in my fucking restaurant."

"Oh, am I upsetting you, Quackity? I thought you said I could go wherever I wanted."

"Just answer my goddamn question."

"And what question was that?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I was just… admiring your fish tank here."

"Is that so?"

"It is." Wilbur turned to look back into the water. "Salmon… Interesting choice."

"Thank you." Quackity came to stand next to him at the tank. "You know, I heard something about you and-"

"It's bullshit." Wilbur quickly interrupted.

"You didn't even let me finish."

"Well- I mean most of what you say is bullshit anyway, and you know what they say about rumors-"

Quackity laughed in the same annoying way he always did when he thought he had the upper hand. "All I was going to say is I heard salmon was your favorite fish."

"Oh. Nevermind then."

"So it's true? Maybe I'll add it to the menu-"

"Well it's been lovely, but I think I'll be going now." Wilbur turned and started walking out.

"So soon?"

"I have better things to do than talk to you."

He had almost reached the door before Quackity spoke again. "Hey, Wilbur?"

"What is it?"

"Are you blushing?"

"Goodbye, Quackity."

"Didn't know zombies could blush."

"I'm leaving now." Wilbur walked out, around the corner of the building, and out of sight. Then he leaned against the restaurant's outer wall, lit a cigarette, and waited.

It wasn't long before he heard the explosion. He checked his communicator and grinned.

Quackity blew up.

Quackity WHAT THE FUCK

FoolishG L

awesamdude L

Ph1LzA L

WilburSoot L

You whisper to Quackity: you should stop playing with tnt

You whisper to Quackity: leave it to the pros

Quackity whispers to you: meet me on top of my tower

Wilbur laughed and pocketed his communicator. He looked up at Quackity's stupid tower. He could see Quackity standing at the top, arms crossed and pacing. Wilbur took a long drag of his cigarette and flicked it into the sand before heading toward the tower.

He glanced up at Quackity a few times, half expecting to be shot at as he approached. Quackity didn't shoot. He just kept pacing. As he stepped into the elevator, he started to wish he had some sort of armor on him.

At the top, he found that Quackity was still pacing. Wilbur cleared his throat, and Quackity stopped dead and spun to face him. "Did you fucking rig my restaurant?"

"I have no idea what you're-"

"Cut the bullshit, Wilbur. I'm so sick of these fucking games."

Wilbur raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "Okay then, Quackity. What do you want to do instead? Cuz I'm not going anywhere."

"Well I'm not letting you in my country."

"Good, I don't want in your stupid country anyway."

"Liar."

"I thought I did, but competing against you is so much more fun."

"People compete all the time without rigging each other's shit to blow up, Wilbur!"

He couldn't help but grin at that. "I thought it didn't bother you?"

"If I admit to it bothering me, will you stop?"

"Probably not." He thought about it for a moment. "Honestly, I may do it more."

"Exactly! That's why I was acting like- But no, you still put a fucking tripwire in my kitchen."

"In my defense, it was funny."

Something like recognition flashed in Quackity's eyes. Maybe a bad memory. He fell silent, and his eyes fell to the floor.

"Uh… You done yelling?"

Quackity didn't answer. It looked like he was fidgeting with a ring on his left hand, and he looked upset, like his mind had gone somewhere completely different.

"Are you married?" Wilbur asked curiously.

"Huh?" He still sounded absent.

"Quackity?" Wilbur snapped in front of his face, and Quackity blinked and looked up with a startled expression. "Are you married?" He asked again.

"No." He answered, clenching his jaw.

"Is that a 'no' or a 'not anymore'?"

"It's a 'none of your fucking business'."

Wilbur reached forward and grabbed his left hand. Sure enough, there was an intricate double-banded ring on his third finger. "You are!" He laughed. "When did this happen?"

Quackity tried to yank his hand back, but Wilbur's grip was stronger, so he only succeeded in pulling himself closer to Wilbur. Still struggling to free himself, he looked up at Wilbur, and a strange emotion flashed in his eyes, then his face went red.

"Fucking- Let me go!" Quackity yelled, voice breaking slightly.

"Who are you married to?"

"It- it's an engagement ring- Now let go!"

"Tell me who first."

Quackity gave one final attempt at freeing himself then stilled, defeated. "Karl and Sapnap…" He muttered, avoiding eye contact.

Wilbur smiled and let go. "Good for you, man."

Rubbing his wrist, he quickly backed up from Wilbur, backing up all the way until his back hit the wall. "Yeah. Thanks." He said with a grimace.

"Trouble in paradise?"

"None. Of. Your. Business."

"Come to think of it…" Wilbur started walking slowly toward him with a grin. "I haven't seen Karl or Sapnap around here at all, have I?"

"You need to stop talking right now."

He put his hand on the wall above Quackity's head and leaned in. "Did they leave you? Is that why you're such a bitter little man?"

He was turning red again. Wilbur couldn't tell if it was out of anger or something else. He shoved Wilbur back and stormed to the balcony. For a second, it looked like he wasn't going to stop. It looked like he was going to jump the railing. But he didn't. Instead he gripped it with shaking hands and white knuckles and took a deep breath.

Wilbur watched him curiously. He wasn't sure if he'd ever seen Quackity this upset before. He debated between pushing his luck and leaving before he got punched, and ultimately decided that there was no way a Quackity punch could hurt that badly. He was tiny after all.

So he walked up to lean against the railing and lit another cigarette, looking down at Quackity, who was still gripping the railing like it was going to try to attack him.

"Why are you still here, Wilbur?"

"Where else would I be? You're the most entertaining person online right now."

"Entertaining?" Quackity gave an acidic laugh. "Is that all we are to you?"

"I was alone for thirteen and half years, man. Just me… Schlatt sometimes, Tommy for a little, and this weird Mexican Dream guy who, honestly, I'd rather be alone than with him. Excuse me if I'm excited to be around real people again."

"Schlatt, huh?"

"Yeah. Can you imagine how fucking lonely you'd have to be to welcome him as company?"

Quackity was silent again.

"Oh." He laughed. "I guess you're the one person who actually can."

"I met him as a ghost, you know?"

"Oh? How was that?"

"Fucking weird as shit."

"Did you like him better?" Wilbur paused to take a long drag. "I'm pretty sure people preferred Ghostbur over me."

Quackity shook his head. "Looked like him, sounded like him… Wasn't him. Just a fucking shallow, stupid imitation." He paused for a moment. "Same for Ghostbur. It's like a cheap, ripoff version of you."

Wilbur was silent for a moment. "You like me over Ghostbur?"

"I didn't say that. Ghostbur wasn't a fucking dick, and he didn't blow my shit up." He hesitated. "But you're real. He wasn't."

"Thank you…" Wilbur said quietly. He wasn't sure what else to say. "You know, it's weird having this heart to heart with you, considering I blew you up like ten minutes ago, and we were just fighting."

"Yeah." Quackity laughed. "Actually kinda reminds me of Schlatt."

"Oh don't fucking say that. That's the worst thing I've heard all week. Possibly the worst thing I've heard since I came back to life."

Quackity bit his lip. "He wasn't all bad… Not all the time."

"Maybe to you, Mr. Fattest Ass in the Cabinet."

"Shut up."

"Say, you and Schlatt- Did you ever…?"

"None of your business." He answered quickly.

"I'm just curious if you ever mixed business and pleasure. Cuz sometimes it sure seemed like you two were fucking."

"Have you always been this nosy, or is it a side effect of all the loneliness?"

"You're avoiding the question, so I'm just gonna assume-"

"Yes. Fine. We hooked up a few times. Happy? Does that knowledge fill you with joy and satisfaction?"

"Mostly just disturbing mental images. I don't want to picture Schlatt naked, but here we are, and it's weird."

"Just Schlatt?"

"What?"

"You said you didn't want to picture Schlatt naked… What about me?"

"Oh, I've thought about you naked, Big Q."

"Is that so?" He laughed. "In what context?"

"Now who's being nosy?"

"I have a right to know what you're doing when you picture me naked."

"I'm sorry, have you copyrighted your face? Are you gonna DCMA me for thinking about you?"

Quackity's eyes flashed with that gambler light. "I'll tell if you do." He said with a grin.

Wilbur laughed. "And what do you have to tell?"

"Is that you taking the deal?"

"Fine. Sure. But you go first."

"Wilbur… Are you embarrassed?"

Wilbur turned to look him dead in the eyes. "Quackity, last night I was thinking about burgers. And I was thinking about you and your stupid fish tank. And you know what, Quackity?" He leaned closer and lowered his voice. "I was thinking about shoving you against that fish tank and fucking you brainless."

Quackity opened and closed his mouth, quite like a fish, apparently speechless.

Wilbur grinned and leaned back, pleased with the effect even if this was going to make every interaction he had with Quackity after this incredibly awkward.

But as he leaned back, Quackity grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him forward, pressing his lips to Wilbur's in a harsh kiss. He dropped his cigarette in surprise and stood frozen for a second as his brain processed what was happening.

Quackity was kissing him.

Before he had fully comprehended it, his body responded of its own accord. His feet stepped closer. Was this a good idea? He grabbed Quackity by waist and pulled him in, pressing their bodies against each other. Was this a play by Quackity? He opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. Was this going to backfire horribly?

Quackity let go of his shirt and twisted his fingers into Wilbur's hair, pulling on it to change the angle of the kiss.

"You're too fucking short." Wilbur growled. He lifted Quackity by the waist and put him on the railing to help the height difference.

Quackity yelped in alarm. "I'm gonna fucking fall!"

"I'm not gonna drop you."

"You say that like I trust you-"

Wilbur cut him off by resuming the kiss. He wrapped both his arms around Quackity, holding him tightly, partly to make sure he didn't fall, and partly out of a burning need to be touched that he hadn't even realized was there. Thirteen and a half years was a long time to be unwillingly celibate.

Quackity was clinging to him now. He didn't dare struggle in the position he was in. Good. Wilbur liked that probably more than he should have. His lips quirked into a smile. Quackity was utterly at his mercy right now. He was in complete control.

"What the fuck are you smiling about?" Quackity asked, breathless.

"Nothing…" Wilbur kissed his neck. "It's just been a while." Still holding him tightly with one arm, he reached for the top button of Quackity's stupid dress shirt.

"No- no no no no no-" He grabbed Wlibur's hand to push it away. "Not up here."

"Aw, what's wrong, Quackity? You scared of heights?"

"No-" Quackity glanced nervously at the ground, which was an awful long way down. "I'm not afraid. I just don't want you to drop me-"

"And what if I do?" For a second, he let go of Quackity, but he didn't move his arm far in case he actually did start to fall. Quackity gave a satisfactory gasp of fear and clung to him even harder. "That'd be a pretty stupid way to lose a canon life, wouldn't it?"

"You're a-"

He put his arm back around Quackity. "Ah ah, you should be nicer to me, given your current… position."

Quackity gave the far-away ground one more look. "You're… a wonderful person." He said through gritted teeth. "But can we please fuck somewhere a little less precarious?"

"Oh, but it's a lovely view."

"Do you know how many lives Dream gave you? Cuz I'll take you down with me if you let go again."

"Fine, fine." Without letting him touch the ground, Wilbur picked Quackity up again and carried him to one of the tables inside.

"I can walk, you know."

Wilbur grinned. "But you're so portable." He said as he started unbuttoning Quackity's shirt.

"Fuck you."

He laughed in response and pressed his lips to Quackity's neck, running his hands along Quackity's now exposed chest. Quackity finished pulling off his own shirt and then reached for Wilbur's, but Wilbur caught his hands and pushed them back.

"What's wrong?"

"I prefer my shirt on."

"Why-"

"Can you drop it?"

"You hiding tnt under there or something?" Quackity asked with a laugh.

Wilbur didn't answer, instead leaning in again and biting Quackity's neck hard enough to leave a mark. Quackity gave a gasp that was a mix of pleasure and pain.

"I- I'm gonna kill you if that bruises…" He muttered shakily.

"But did you like it?"

"I would like it if people didn't see-"

Wilbur shut him up by biting him again, a little harder this time, moving his tongue against the sensitive skin and sucking in a way he knew would bruise. Quackity let out a moan, then grabbed Wilbur by the hair and pulled him back into a rough kiss.

Knocked off balance, Wilbur fell forward slightly and caught himself on the table. Quackity took his momentary distraction as a chance to slip his hands under Wilbur's shirt. He felt Quackity's fingers brush across his scar and tried to move back, only then realizing that Quackity had wrapped his legs around Wilbur's waist, making it impossible to get away.

Something flickered in Quackity's eyes. "What's this?" He asked, feeling up and down Wilbur's scar more carefully.

"Just a scar…" He answered quietly.

"From?"

"Can we just get back to- You're really killing the mood."

"Is it from when you died?"

"Yeah. It is. I lost everything and everyone, and then I begged my own father to put me down like a mad dog. Happy?"

"I…"

"Whatever. I'm done here." He pushed himself away from Quackity, who had seemed to have given up on holding onto him anyway, and walked away.