Wilbur twirls the little umbrella in his drink, hoping for some form of entertainment as he sighs. He's just sitting here, leaning against the bar counter in the casino of Las Nevadas. And it's not too entertaining.

So when Quackity walks over, silently moving to behind the counter. Wilbur can't help but feel a sense of relief. Finally, he's not alone and completely bored out of his mind.

"Hello Big Q."

Quackity taps on the counter, looking up to meet Wilbur's gaze. He doesn't smile, only nods. "Wilbur."

"Thanks for all the free drinks, by the way," Wilbur says with a grin, genuinely, he was thankful. Sometimes it's exactly what he needs to cool down after a day full of work and stress.

"If it's what gets you to stop bothering my citizens, then sure, drink up." Quackity shrugs, pouring himself a drink before quickly glancing over at Wilbur. "But not too much, of course. Be reasonable."

"I'm so glad you care, Big Q."

"I just don't like people who can't put their drink down."

"But you wouldn't like me either way."

"Maybe."

"I'm safe with it," Wilbur says with a honest tone because he really was- sometimes. But that's a story for another day.

"Hope you are."

Wilbur hums in response, clicking his tongue. It's too quiet. He wanted to have a real conversation. Not get told to still limit himself with his limitless drink supply. Heh.

So he stands up, brushing off his pants and making his way around the counter. Quackity questions his every action, of course he does. Shooting him a glare as Wilbur wobbles over, a floppy smile on his face.

"What do you-"

"How was your day, Quackity?" He cuts him off, leaning his elbows on the counter and peering up at the other. Quackity scoffs, remaining still before he gives in.

"It was just another day full of signing papers and walking around." Quackity tells him, waving his hands around and Wilbur's eyes follow it, so distracted by the movement that he almost doesn't even take notice of the shift in Quackity's tone. But he does, it's definitely there. "And other stuff, I guess."

Wilbur looks back up at Quackity's face, seeing how even his facial expressions shifted. There's something behind those mismatching eyes he can't quite place a name onto, and Quackity's lips are pressed into a thin line. He almost looks regretful about something. Or does he look upset?

Wilbur has no clue. Despite how curious he is, he doesn't press on it.

"Then my day was equally as boring." Wilbur mumbles, chin in his hands as he studies the counter with no actual interest. He's way more interested in the conversation he's having. It's a decent way to get rid of boredom. "I haven't done anything but stand in the sun, sit and sip, then talk to you."

"Fucking hell, don't you have a job? A burger van to run-"

"We aren't open. Not yet."

Quackity nods, awkwardly standing there before leaning against the counter, back facing the opposite way of Wilbur's as he looks down at him. "Damn, does seem boring. I mean, you're talking to me."

Wilbur huffs instead of actually laughing. But it's enough as he sneaks a glance up at Quackity. "Mhm, or maybe people just enjoy talking to you."

"Do you?" Quackity asks, and Wilbur can only see half of his face as he looks outward. But still, only half of this man's face makes Wilbur's words lodge in his throat. He's never really stopped to look at Quackity, at least, that's what he tells himself to save from the late night thoughts about the other.(It rarely saves him). Either way, Quackity's very easy to look at.

The glass windows reflect a blue and red hue onto Quackity's clear tanned skin, and Wilbur could see each beauty mark- well, that was on this side of the face. A rich brown eye and long lashes that Wilbur catches himself lingering on for too long. Quackity's hair is on the verge of being black, having a dark blue highlight to it as it peeks out under his beanie before falling gently down the sides of his face, only the tip of his ear visible. His hair stops somewhere that aligns with the middle of Quackity's neck, and Wilbur feels a twist and pinch in his stomach when his eyes scan over the skin there.

He shouldn't be doing that. But- No.

"Wilbur?"

Wilbur blinks, eyes shooting up to Quackity's and oh it's his full face now.

That icy and dull eye with swirls of milky colour, looking right back at him. Those slightly furrowed brows, a questioning glance as that stupidly attractive scar cuts through his face, a soft pink and running right into his upper lip-

Those lips. Those lips are- Wilbur has to stop this.

"Uhm- yea? What?"

"I asked if you like talking to me. Nothing much, but whatever," Quackity says with a shrug, unaware of how the question stirs something in the other's chest. So Wilbur sucks in a breath of air, shoulders rising and falling in a manner that hopefully looked natural as he nods.

"Yea, I like talking to you."

Quackity laughs softly, it makes something in Wilbur jump, like it's just remembered how to feel nervous again. "Thanks, Will. I'll be honest here, you're not an awful person to have a conversation with either."

"I'm not?" Wilbur asks and shit he sounds like his voice was about to crack. There's no reason for that, not here. So he clears his throat after, embarrassed that he does. "Well, thanks then."

Quackity takes a sip of his drink and Wilbur makes the mistake of watching as he does. Watching the way his fucking throat moves- god. Wilbur almost feels like a sinner just for doing so. It itches at the tips of his fingers, reminding him constantly about how he was looking at Quackity. It lingers in the new pink that sets over his cheeks, telling him that he shouldn't be doing this, but that he can only continue.

Because, well, something about Quackity kept pulling Wilbur's eyes back towards him, whole body and mind pausing at the way he looked, the way he sounded, the way he acted . So Wilbur hates to admit it, but he can't seem to take his eyes off Quackity or his ears to stop listening to his stupid voice. It's all too alluring to pull away from.

Wilbur's a silly stupid pirate, steering his ship of attention, and everything about Quackity is the damn siren pulling him to a ship-grave that he's too distracted to see. And if he manages to see it, would he even try to save himself?

Wilbur doesn't know.

What he does know is how suddenly, he feels like his heart is hammering against his chest, and it's almost painful. Almost, meaning he can ignore it.

Ignore it and focus on Quackity- who happens to be talking to him again.

"-so maybe if you did, we'd be able to figure something out."

Shit, he has no clue what Quackity's talking about.

"Oh, yea. I-" He can't lie. Quackity tends to read right through it. "I was hoping you could repeat that for me?" His voice lilts higher at the end, tilting his head and waiting for any reaction. And thankfully it comes.

"Oh- okay. Well, maybe if you were able to stop trying to 'persuade' my citizens into leaving. If you could manage to not do that for a whole two weeks. Then I'd be willing to listen to those many reasons you said you had that would get you a spot in my country."

Wilbur blinks, then shakes his head. Is he hearing things? Did Quackity really just partially- maybe offer Wilbur a spot in Las Nevadas?

His eyes narrow on Quackity, searching for something, anything, to prove that Quackity was lying. But he finds nothing. Interesting.

"Where's this coming from, huh?" He asks, raising an eyebrow in suspicion as he stands up straight. "Why now?"

"Because believe it or not I've been keeping an eye on you."

"Oh, I believe that." Wilbur scoffs, a sharp undertone as he faces away. "That slime of yours is hiding in every crook and cranny all day, isn't he? Spying on anyone you ask him to."

"He does do that. I'll admit. But no, it wasn't slime spying on you. It was simply me keeping an eye on you. Like I said." Quackity responds rather calmly with a straight face as clasps his hands together. He says it so casually like it's nothing. But here it has Wilbur scrambling for his words. He doesn't know if he should be upset or flattered in the twisted way he gets. He thinks he's both. He's both in that sickening and odd way that most people scrunch their faces at.

Because Quackity's been there, watching Wilbur and that's creepy and intruding. But on the other hand, Quackity sees Wilbur. He sees him. And that's not something a lot of people do, let alone willingly.

"Not like that though. Whenever you're in the same room as me or you're making a scene in Las Nevadas. I make sure to keep track of what you're doing," Quackity says, voice dry and making Wilbur realize he's gone silent for too long. "I'm not a fucking stalker or some shit. When you think you're alone, you are. I'm not some weirdo."

"Oh." Wilbur has to push any thoughts out of his mind at the confirmation. "That's good."

"Now, as I was saying. I've been noticing that you might've proven me wrong."

Wilbur's brain halts, his chest freezes and his eyes widen. There's no way. No way at all.

He did it. He proved Quackity wrong- at whatever the fuck it was. And Quackity's admitting it. If Wilbur's entirety breaks out in a mental dance of victory then that's for him to know.

But he doesn't stop the wide grin on his face. He does, however, stop himself from clapping his hands together and cheering for himself. That would be childish, of course.

"What a change. Mind telling me how?" Wilbur teases, that famous smile never leaving his face. Quackity hates it but doesn't waste his time lingering over such things as he sighs.

"You told me that you weren't the same person before limbo. You said you changed."

Oh it's about this. Wilbur's victory-driven excitement subsides, replaced by an anxious bubble in his chest, begging to be popped. He feels like there's something caught in his throat, he always forgets how this makes him feel.

Hell isn't a real place, he doesn't think so. Not if hell's a fire biome full of ashes and dark stone, lava spilling out from anywhere it could while everyone burned for eternity. Full of sinners and whatever's left of the rotting corpses lying on the charcoal and ash-covered floor. That hell isn't real to his knowledge.

But if hell was an eerie and empty train station, cold and dark. The dull lanterns constantly reminding him that he didn't have the sun's light- and never will. All the while dark bodies of black nothingness loom on the other side of those taunting tracks. Those same tracks Wilbur's stood on before, waiting for the train to put him out. But when it does, he just wakes up in the same nightmare. Never able to stop losing his mind and aimlessly walking on the cold concrete. If all of this was hell, if that's what hell was.

Then yea, hell was definitely a real place.

So he means it with every single fucking aching bone in his body when he says he's a changed man. The old him was sent there by his own accord, he asked for it. This Wilbur would never ask for it, he'd try and run from it, never hoping to go back to such a hellscape ever again. He wouldn't wish it on anyone either.

"Yes. I did change," Wilbur says, almost forgetting Quackity was there. "At least, I try."

"Well you're not just trying, you're succeeding." Quackity drops casually like it didn't just shock every cell in Wilbur's blood like it did. "You were right, you're a different man. I've noticed and that's why I'm offering you to join my country- if you can manage what I've asked."

Quackity thinks he's changed. Prime, his knees are wobbling. He's always known how powerful words can be, that was his whole ass belief or whatever for a while. But fucking hell, Wilbur's chest can't decide whether to breathe normally or start enforcing a heart attack all while his mind is heating up, about to explode into sparkles of red and silver. He thinks it's the best thing he's heard in a while.

But all Wilbur does is nod, not even focusing on how quick he was before Quackity physically stopped him. His breath hitches before he can control his reaction, stuttering at the feeling of Quackity's firm hands on his shoulders. He can feel it through his unfairly soft sweater, he can feel the warmth in Quackity's palms.

He likes it.

"Hey- my prime. I'm sorry." Wilbur can finally hear Quackity's voice too, and the gentle tone seems to have the same effect as those hands of his. "I- was that a topic you don't really touch on anymore? I didn't know- just wanted to let you know."

Wilbur exhales, breath landing on Quackity's forehead, albeit a bit shaky, at least he can. "Oh, no, don't worry. I just... I really liked hearing that and I just didn't expect it I guess. It was unexpected, but welcomed."

"Thank goodness." Quackity sighs, relieved as he bows his head forward, leaning right onto Wilbur's shoulder. "You kept on nodding your head like crazy. That was freaky scary."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Quackity laughs that stupid laugh that makes Wilbur's heart jump. He's burning right now with Quackity's hands on his shoulders and head leaning against him. That risky and needy part of his brain is telling him to do something about it. Telling him to let Quackity's hands burn by touch, melting him into putty to mold to Quackity's liking.

He knows he probably shouldn't, but he wants to feel it all. Quackity's calloused hands all over his body, leaving a tingling sensation that could set his nerves on fire. Quackity's wondrously soft yet chapped lips on his own, moving together in a way that would set his nerves on fire.

But he doesn't even know if he can do anything about it. Which admittedly pulls on certain strings in his heart he thought he cut a long time ago. But here he is, mind and heart gushing over Quackity while his body only sits still, nervously frozen and waiting for something to happen.

"Okay." Wilbur finally mumbles a response, stuck on the way he can feel his breath circulating back to him. Can Quackity feel it? What does he think? Wilbur wishes he knew. "I won't."

Quackity leans his head back, Wilbur mentally frowning at the action. But he remains unmoved as Quackity does so. Then the man smiles- that smile that's been hoarding a large portion of Wilbur's attention recently. Wilbur knows that at this point, this far in the conversation, he's definitely blushing. He knows he is. Because Quackity's words and smile are just enough to make Wilbur enamoured of this man.

"Good." he simply hums, blinking up at Wilbur who looks right back at him. Wilbur's chest pulls and twists with anticipation, hands buzzing as he waits during the game of who breaks first. It's eye contact that lasts for much longer than needed. It's a perfect excuse to study the way Quackity's eyes glint and reflect in the light even more. It's making Wilbur nervous. As if he wasn't already.

"I accept, by the way." Wilbur mumbles with a slight and easy smile, staring back into those miss-matching eyes he's so fond of. When Quackity looks slightly confused, most likely about to ask 'Accept what?' Wilbur makes sure to clarify. "I'm accepting your offer to join Las Nevadas."

Quackity's smile grows, revealing that gold tooth of his. For some unknown reason, his hands haven't left Wilbur's shoulder yet, leaving the latter waiting for the moment when it would inevitably happen. But Quackity just tilts his head, an easygoing expression on his face.

"Perfect, I'll be looking forward to the day you do."

Wilbur likes the way that sounds. Calming and inviting, making him relax into those hands that still haven't left him.

It takes Wilbur's mind a second, ticking absently until he does. But once again, talking with Quackity has led him down the familiar rabbit hole of blush-covered cheeks and hazy thoughts. All because that crawling and lurking part of his brain never shuts off, always waiting for the next time he sees Quackity just to gush over the man.

And it only worsens when Quackity's friendly smile rises into a smug smirk. Why'd he do that? Wilbur's about to take a dangerous step in asking. We'll see if curiosity really kills the cat now.

"Just realized." Guess we won't find out. Quackity opened his mouth first. "When you join Las Nevadas..." Wilbur's proud of the 'when', he thinks during Quackity's slow pause.

"I'll be in charge of you, isn't that somethin'?" Quackity's words are through small bits of laughter that definitely have some sort of mischievous and mocking tone.

As if he wasn't softly speaking to Wilbur moments ago, checking if he was alright. As if they weren't so close right now, as if his hands weren't resting on Wilbur's shoulders.

Wilbur wants to frown in response, maybe huff in annoyance then roll his eyes like Quackity does. But he can't, only awkward and nervous chuckles slip past his lips. "In charge?"

Quackity nods with a hum. "I'm going to be your president."

' Mine? ' Wilbur mentally shakes the instant thought out of his head. He shouldn't be this bad, taking anything he could get like this. Damn. He should be better than this. Quackity was talking about being a president here.

"Pft, a president?" Wilbur scoffs, regaining himself and involuntarily leaning forward the slightest bit.

Should he have done that?

Quackity doesn't seem to hate it, grinning up at the other, inching closer himself. Wilbur bets he did it to seem taller and more powerful, nothing else. So maybe his mind should stop focusing on it.

Unfortunately, it's almost every running thought in his mind. Pondering the what-ifs and hypotheticals of this situation.

' What if you let me kiss you and we both liked it? '

Okay, he should probably stop now. Probably.

"Yes, a president who you're gonna have to listen to," Quackity says, voice reminding Wilbur that their minds were most likely in two different spaces, thinking different things. "Meaning you're below me, Wilbur Soot."

Wilbur's cheeks feel impossibly hotter, almost fucking choking. Embarrassing. He can't hide his whole reaction though, eyes widening with ideas at his interpretation as lips part in what seems like surprise.

"Below?"

"Mhm, I'll be above you. While you sit there and follow my rules. Fucking finally."

Wilbur's breath hitches at such simple sentences and the teasing tone he hopes is real.

Wilbur's hands hover over Quackity's hips. He doesn't know how they got there. Something about Quackity and skin and the burning desire to touch.

"I'll follow you?" It's supposed to be a statement, sounds like a question. They're supposed to be standing side by side, but their hands are on each other as the space between them shrinks and the air grows hot. A lot of things aren't what they're supposed to be, Wilbur decides.

"You'll follow me." Quackity repeats, eyes half-lidded and Wilbur feels the way he leans up, squeezing shoulders and flushing faces.

"I'll follow you when I find you."

"I think you've done that already, Will."

Wilbur leans down, breath fanning down Quackity's neck and eyes heavy with a certain needy tug. The same tug that's pulled them this close. "But I haven't found all of you, Quackity. I haven't seen all of you."

It's red and black between them, deathly hot but sending shivers down their spines. A perfect mix of need and want that blends into hazy touches of Wilbur's fingers prodding at Quackity's side. Quackity's face is pink, Wilbur likes that.

"I want to. I want to find a part of you nobody but me gets to find. I need to see you in a way others won't. Just for the two of us and only us."

"Only us?"

Wilbur nods into Quackity's neck as the other pulls him by his shoulders. "If you let me then yes."

"Then yes," Quackity says, sounding breathless as he repeats Wilbur, looking up at Wilbur as he leans out of the space in Quackity's neck.

That's all they need before Wilbur blinks twice, processing it before kissing the man he couldn't get out of his mind.

Lips collide with pink lust and red fog as Quackity's hands travel up Wilbur's sweater before throwing his arms over his shoulders. The kiss is shy, desperate, curious and careful like they're testing it out.

Wilbur melts into it, eyes shut and heart wide open for anyone to poke and stab. But instead, his heart receives a gentle hand to crawl in, hesitantly doing so as Quackity slips a hand in Wilbur's hair.

Quackity massages his scalp, feeling it when Wilbur sighs into his lips. Just like he can feel those warm and big hands rub his hips slowly, making him kiss Wilbur back as he lost himself in tender touches and soft paradise.

Wilbur loves it when Quackity lets him slip in his tongue, needy and curious but slow and sweet all the same. And he's right, the kiss does set his nerves on fire.

Chests press together, small cutoff breathless huffs puff into the warm air as they kiss each other like they'll never feel something like this again. Lips against lips and tongue with tongue. Wilbur could stay like this forever.

His hands slide up Quackity's clothed skin, wondering what it'd feel like without that button-up. His thoughts only seem to be encouraged as Quackity runs his hands through his curls.

Then his hands stall for a second, brown wavy hair entangled with his fingers before he tugs experimentally. Wilbur stutters before humming in approval, hands more eager as they squeeze Quackity's hips before continuing to scramble around the rest of his upper half.

At the reaction he got Quackity tugs harder, relishing in the second low hum from the other. He tries a bit harder, gripping brown curls and emitting a poorly held-back groan.

"You like that?" He asks smugly, massaging the general area after. Wilbur doesn't respond, only pressing rushed and needy hot kisses to his cheek and jaw. So he sighs, pulling on his hair a fourth time while kissing the other man's forehead.

Wilbur moans at the action, biting his lips shut afterwards and stumbling into Quackity, head buried under his shoulder and taunting his collarbone. "Mhm, what if I do?"

"Then it's obvious."

Wilbur huffs, hands trailing up the other's back and pressing down on his spine. Quackity sighs, placing his hands on Wilbur's arms and pulling them back and looking up at him.

"Hm?"

Quackity giggles, tapping Wilbur's shoulders. "Just thinkin', you're kinda hot."

Wilbur scoffs at the compliment but still takes it as Quackity kisses him Tongues are added more quickly this time, chests flushed up against each other as hands roam against bodies. Wilbur can't help the small whine that leaves him as Quackity sneakily slides a hand under his sweater, touch feeling like a pleasureful lightening across his bare chest and torse.

And if Quackity questions it... Well, in his defence, it's been a while since he's even got so much as a warm kiss. Let alone all this heated shit that's got him going crazy.

So he soaks in every time Quackity's hands skid down his sides, travel across, and sink a little too low after resting on his hips- ultimately starting to make Wilbur a breathless mess. When they take a proper air break, Wilbur lowers his head and presses his mouth against Quackity's burning skin. He's losing it perfectly, letting his mind dissolve into nothing but the feeling of Quackity's hands and body, the taste of Quackity, and his infamous little laugh that's always playing in his head. He already starts sucking and kissing against Quackity's hot skin, relishing in the rewarding gasp and comforting hands he got.

Of course, Quackity cranes his neck, silently asking for more. And of course, Wilbur does exactly that. But then the fucker bites on the skin, tongue wiping over it before pressing a peppered kiss and drawing a needy noise out of Quackity. So he does it again.

"Will..." Quackity embarrassingly whines out after the fourth time, hands dropping down to the other's chest.

"Yes, darling?"

Quackity's face heats up, almost choking. Screw Wilbur and his stupid names and stupid sexy voice. Quackity tries to shrug it off. Only letting his hand roam around Wilbur's soft sweater, down and up and repeat. "I just like saying that."

"You like saying my name?"

"Yup. Sure do, Wilbur."

Wilbur's rather flustered and his chest churns. Something so sultry and challenging about those words makes his heart forget to work for a moment. So he leans over and up, breath fanning down Quackity's neck once more and kissing right under his ear. "Don't worry, tomorrow I'll make sure it's the only thing you can say." His voice is low and soft yet all so alluring and smug. "If you'd like."

Quackity tugs Wilbur a bit closer by his sweater, eyelashes fluttering as he mumbles. "Fuck- yeah, I'd like that."

Wilbur kisses his neck gently before leaning back out, hands squeezing Quackity's hips before cuffing his blush-covered cheeks. "Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." Quackity repeats, lifting his hands up to the top of Wilbur's shoulders, fingers tracing up and down Wilbur's neck.

With that Wilbur gives a small smile before pulling them into another soft and slow kiss, thumbs rubbing circles on Quackity's face. That familiar warm buzzing fuzziness returns to his stomach, making their faces pink and hearts stutter. He kisses Quackity's cheek before pulling away, a cheeky grin on his face. "So I'm guessing you're not too bored now?" He jokes, earning a light shove in return. "Glad to know you like my joke."

"Oh shut the fuck up," Quackity says, not a single trace of true harshness in his tone as he holds back a smile. He crosses his arms, turning to the counter as Wilbur walks around him. "I've got better things to do than listen to your so-called jokes."

"Really?"

"Really." Quackity deadpans. "Like cleanin' and closing up a casino."

Wilbur makes a noise of acknowledgement, taking a step back. "Then I'd best leave you to it. Not gonna work for a country I'm not a part of yet."

"Yeah, whatever. Soon you'll be helping around here," Quackity says, rolling his eyes. Wilbur lightly chuckles.

"And I can't wait till then." Neither of them can tell whether he's being sarcastic or serious or both. It's kinda funny. "Oh and tomorrow, I'll be sure to find you, darling."

Quackity finally can't hold back a smile, resting a hand down on the counter. "Yup, I'll be waiting." He jokes, waving to Wilbur.

Wilbur steps away despite how almost every part of him seems to be fighting the idea of leaving. So he brushes their sides together, a weird sort of reassurance before waving himself. "See you soon, Quackity."

"See you soon."

So Wilbur leaves the casino, grinning like an idiot and feeling the best he's felt in a while. He's left with both a kiss and an invitation to a country.

He thinks he feels fucking fantastic.