Quackity's been thinking. Thinking a lot about a lot.

He's managed to come up with a pretty good explanation for the past two days. Something that clarifies most of it and excuses the rest. Really, it gets the job done.

So the conclusion Quackity's up with? The great simple sentence that would prove the why behind certain things he's been pondering all day?

Quackity was lonely and now he's not.

Boom. He knows, pretty smart observation on his part.

Why did he react so uhm... intensely to a picture he found in a random car?

Simple, he was alone for so long that stuff like that didn't bother him all that much. But now he's not alone, Wilbur's company softened him up resulting in his reaction.

And why was he left with that odd lurching emptiness once he found out he wasn't going to die?

This one is pretty simple too. No human contact means no influence or celebration or- just nothing, it means nothing. So he did nothing almost everyday before Wilbur showed up. Before, he only did what he had to do to survive, like a computer executing mindless commands, following the built program and nothing else. Quackity was just following the program of survival, but now that he's almost died and met Wilbur, he doesn't want to only follow a numbless operation of this and that. He wants to do something with his life, just because the world's over doesn't mean his personality and happiness had to die with it.

And that was the realization he had in the middle of the street, leaving him empty because he was finally stepping out of a straight line and didn't have anymore emotionless commands to follow. He wants do to more than just survive in this world and it took meeting Wilbur (and also almost dying but hey) to figure that out.

Oh and this one- this one's been on Quackity's mind especially. Why the hell was he getting all warm and fuzzy at Wilbur's words and touch?

Quackity cringes, that sounds odd but he doesn't know how else to describe the way Wilbur's softness was drowning his senses and mind in a thick hot putty of his own thought, each one melting together to one big feeling that he couldn't help but divert his attention to.

So, how does Quackity's conclusion "explain" this?

Well it's because he hasn't experienced human interaction in quite a while, of course. So much so that Wilbur's company was like breaking a dam that Quackity had built up slowly for each day he'd been alone. So this was reasonable, of course. It was reasonable that he couldn't stop focusing on the way Wilbur laughed or how Wilbur's warm hands on his shoulders felt- yeah, of course.

Quackity hums to himself, he just cracked this case open and solved it like a puzzle for kids. So he leans against the couch with satisfaction, opening his eyes after he sighs.

And just like that, his satisfaction fades at the sight of a closed door.

Okay so there's one thing Quackity has yet to solve or explain. Something that makes him frown, any feeling of accomplishment fleeting out and being replaced with an aching pain around that certain 'beating with life' part of his body in his chest, a rock in his stomach, and an ocean with waves of confusion and anxiousness crashing into eachother up in his mind.

After dinner yesterday, Wilbur went to the bedroom and never came out.

Quackity woke up this morning, feelin' fresh and waitin' to say good morning (he wouldn't want to wake up Wilbur if the man was sleeping so of course he waited). But Wilbur never came out.

Quackity prepared a lunch that was a bit more decent than normal, more food and less stale. He called Wilbur out to join him, secretly bouncing with excitement to finally see the man. But Wilbur never came out.

Quackity got tired of being alone and knocked on the bedroom door later on, asking to either be let in or for Wilbur to come out. Neither happened and Quackity didn't know why so he sat down in front of the door, mumbling to himself and watching Wilbur's very clear shadow walk around before going still. So Quackity tried to ignore how that hurt him and pushed off the floor.

So now, here he is, sitting on the couch and Wilbur still has yet to come out of the bedroom. Quackity still doesn't know what the possible fuck could be going on with Wilbur, but it was pissing him because we all know sadness is the same thing as anger, even if it contradicts anything you've said ever.

Quackity doesn't know whether to try again or not, one part of him worries that he's already being too pushy which will only make the wait longer. But the other parts, the louder parts, just want to see Wilbur, to talk to him and you know, have some company.

He has no clue if it was something he did and that sets him on edge. What could he have done? They ate dinner and then with a snap Wilbur wasn't there nor was he going to open that door.

Quackity wishes he knew at least something, then maybe can focus on that and try and figure out a way to get in or Wilbur out from there. Instead, he's focusing on what he knows and haves.

Which was not a lot.

He knows Wilbur's sticking himself up in the bedroom all day for some reason and he knows he hates it.

He has half the mind to knock down the door like a complete weirdo and another half that will patiently sit here and wait while focusing on the memories of Wilbur he has.

Maybe sitting here alone and thinking about Wilbur and his smile was enough.

But Quackity knows it's really not. So once again he finds himself standing in front of the room he used to stay in. Now the room feels strangely distant and he realizes he hasn't been in here since he first left Wilbur in there.

But then he remembers Wilbur hasn't even been here for so much as a week so he shouldn't be thinking that his own bedroom was distant, that's just silly.

He knocks, waiting with anticipation as he hears Wilbur shift slightly on the bed. Then, Quackity clears his throat. "You know, this is my bedroom actually." He chuckles, hoping it doesn't sound too forced because it sure was. "Funny huh." Except it wasn't, not really.

"Well, I was just wondering if you'd finally let me in the room or not. Heck, maybe you'd join me out here? I was hoping for a yes or no answer."

There's a sharp undertone to his voice that he shakes his head at until he identifies it. It's impatience and it's hurt, which he was very validated to feel right now.

Then once again he's met with silence and even though he expected it, it hits him hard and makes his throat start to hurt. "I know you can hear me, you pause at practically everything I say."

There's frustration rising in his voice, he doesn't wait for the silence this time. "I've been trying to be polite and respect your space all day, Wilbur. But staying in there all day is a bit much."

This time there's a lot of ruffling of sheets and Quackity can hear Wilbur get off the bed. Maybe that means something good.

"So," He pauses, fixing his posture even if Wilbur couldn't see him. "Is it a yes or no?"

One beat passes, then a second, then-

"Maybe."

Quackity takes in the fact at least the guy finally fucking said something, took him long enough. But then he sighs at what he said, eyeing Wilbur's shadow on the floor before looking at the door. "That wasn't an option."

"Oh. Okay."

Quackity's brows furrow, holding back the urge to raise his voice. So his voice is strained and he crosses his arms. "Could you stop playing dumb and just let me know why hell you're refusing to open this door?"

And maybe anger and sadness aren't the same things because Quackity's voice lowers in volume, his voice cracks, and his voice sounds sad. "Can't you at least give me that?" His voice was a lot of things and regardless of whether he acknowledges it or not, those words meant a lot of things too.

He almost misses the large breath Wilbur takes in and a part of him wants to be mad at him. Wilbur's the one that was ignoring him, not the other away around, but then again, he doesn't know why.

"I've-" Then Wilbur stops and Quackity bites his cheek. God if this wasn't at least pathetic and dramatic on both parts. "I've been thinking."

Quackity's been doing a lot of that too and he's even managed to figure out a lot of things. So of course Wilbur can too. But Quackity still was a ball of bubbling emotions, slowly rising up as he tilts his head.

"So you didn't respond at all?"

"What? I am very much responding."

"Very clever."

"I would say honest as well but-"

"Wilbur if you were just sitting there thinking surely you could've answered me." Quackity cuts him off, scoffing at Wilbur. He was dancing around the question, Quackity knows he was. "I called you out for lunch."

"I know."

"I went and sat at the door and asked you to open it."

"I know."

"And you didn't say shit. Could've done that differently."

Wilbur pauses, Quackity doesn't. "Why didn't you?"

"I said I was thinking," Wilbur says quietly. Quackity frowns at the repeated answer, stepping back from the door and letting his hands drop to the side.

"Fine then."

He lets the silence carry on, taking another step back. But it only last for a couple of seconds.

"Wait- Quackity, wait." Wilbur calls out and Quackity almost laughs, the door's still closed and he's asking for Quackity to wait. Wait for what? Quackity grins, back still facing away before he whips around at the sound of the doorknob beind handled quite desperately and oh-

Quackity was supposed to wait for Wilbur to open the door. So what he was already doing.

Quackity stiffens, grin faltering as Wilbur now finally stands in front of him. Same sweater and same pants, just his hair isn't brushed and he's not smiling. Quackity wonders why it took this man almost all day to come out looking the same way.

"What-"

Wilbur cuts him off, opening the door completely and biting his lip. They both have an odd problem with biting. "I wasn't uh, ignoring you."

"Really? It sure felt like it."

Wilbur's small frown only becomes bigger at that as he meets Quackity's unamused gaze. "Well then I'm sorry. I truly wasn't-" He cuts himself off with a stressed huff that Quackity cocks an eyebrow at. "It was nothing you did, if you're wondering. I just- I wasn't trying to ignore you."

Quackity's curiosity sticks to each word like glue, trying to find something that might not evem be there. The way Wilbur was tripping over his words, the distress prominent in his voice, it all made Quackity think for a good second before he relaxed his shoulders.

"Then if I may ask, what had you so preoccupied?" Quackity asks, no hesitancy whatsoever in complete contrast to Wilbur. He narrows his gaze as Wilbur glances to the side, seemingly conflicted at the idea of sharing. But Quackity is certainly stubborn, urging the other with his eyes.

"A lot, not enough, it's all the usual." He admits, forgoing a nonchalant facade so quickly it has Quackity blinking in surprise. But it's more so what he said that pulls the majority of Quackity's attention, scanning over Wilbur's expression attentively as his mind raced to assumptions and random guesses.

Then he takes into consideration a statement he knows all too well: he doesn't even really know Wilbur.

Whatever is going on is clearly something Quackity had little to no knowledge on. Wilbur hasn't been here for week, or longer. No matter how much Quackity enjoys his company, he doesn't really really know who's company he's enjoying.

And this is a great reminder of such, he has yet to know even the slightest about this man's background, his life, or heck even simple things like his favourite colour.

He refuses to react to the reminder- at least physically, because he knows it's going to be something his brain will be fixated on. But for now he's busy with Wilbur, tilting his head as his brows furrow. "I don't know what you mean?" There's so much of a confused tone in his voice it might as well be a question and Wilbur apparently takes it as such.

"It's nothing... exciting or interesting," He says dismissively much to Quackity's disappointment. There's something so clearly hidden underneath his words and Quackity wants to uncover it, but he's shut down as Wilbur opens his mouth again with a shrug. "It's nothing to ponder over, I assure you."

Quackity scoffs, a smile that was on the edge of mocking. "I'm afraid I already am. It's not the smartest to say something that could so easily be left for inspection and curious minds only to shut it down. Makes it all the more suspicious."

"So you're curious?" Wilbur raises an eyebrow, lips twitching into a slight smile as he played into the game- even though the goal was against him, it seems. Quackity nods.

"Very."

"You've told me."

"Well," Quackity says, gesturing to Wilbur with crossed arms. "You're the only one who can provide me with the answers I want."

Wilbur steps towards him with a sarcastic raise of his brows before he huffs and grins knowingly at Quackity. "I'm the only one who you've talked to in months, Quackity. Surely that's enough?"

Quackity realizes what he means, grimacing at the man with an accusing tone. "Oh so you're presence should make me grateful enough to not pry you for answers now?"

"Precisely." Wilbur states so confidently it makes Quackity roll his eyes. Wilbur only leans back, resting against the door frame with a sigh. "So what's the plan for today?"

"You-" Quackity holds back an irritated groan, his patience not so present as he glares at Wilbur. Clearly there was something that had him stuck in the room all day, but now he can't say what? Quackity doesn't exactly feel content with that. He'd been ignored all day because of it- whatever it was. Can't he be allowed to know?

His answer is a big stubborn yes.

"You're avoiding it now?" He questions sharply. Wilbur pauses, most certainly not actually thinking despite his acting, at least that's what Quackity thought. Then, after silence that did nothing good for Quackity's impatience- seriously it was almost around two whole minutes of the guy making faces, he turns to face Quackity with an unreadable expression.

"Never."

Quackity tries to stave away his rising frustration for this situation, or more specifically, the man in front of him. He quickly regains himself, still, there's a biting tone to his words. "Then tell me, why don't you."

"Then take a seat, won't you?" Wilbur steps inside the bedroom, gesturing to the bed without looking back to see Quackity's look of disbelief. Is he serious? He's actually just giving up?

Quackity still has his minor doubts as he joins Wilbur, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as he watches Wilbur's gaze linger over the door before the man seemingly decides something and whips around to see Quackity waiting.

"Okay..." Wilbur absently starts, then stopping to clear his throat as his eyes looked anywhere but Quackity's general area. Finally, he relaxes his shoulders (Quackity very much noticed how forced it looked) before plopping onto the bed carelessly. "What do you plan on asking me?"

Quackity shifts as the bed dips next to him, watching Wilbur for a moment before sighing. "Isn't that part obvious?"

"I-" Yes it very much is obvious, they both know it. But Wilbur glances down at Quackity, not exactly making eye contact but at least he's looking at him. "Clarification is always nice."

Quackity doesn't dwell on any anger this time, only happy to finally be getting what he asked for. "Uh-huh. 'M curious what kept you so busy all day. What was it?"

"I was thinking-"

"About?"

Wilbur frowns, nose scrunching up despite the lack of malice in his words. "I was going to say that too. Maybe don't cut me off."

"Maybe." Quackity's grin is only returned with Wilbur's offended scoff. But it works.

"I was thinking about life before all this apocalypse shit, since you're so interested," He says, voice steady and even but when Quackity looks over at Wilbur he's facing outwards, eyes telling Quackity a part of him isn't here talking with Quackity, but instead, maybe back to a world where zombies weren't an everyday thing.

Quackity presses his lips into a thin line, feeling... pity? Quackity doesn't know if that's a good for it, but seeing Wilbur's eyes was a dead give away of his current thoughts and well, seeing Wilbur like this made Quackity feel something.

"Anything about it in particular?" Quackity asks slowly, unsure what to do with his hands at the moment so he just lets them rest at his sides. Wilbur blinks, eyeing Quackity for hardly a second before shrugging.

"Nothing sad or any of that. I just get easily distracted by wondering what things would be like right now if, well," He taps his knee as he fully faces Quackity. "Well you know."

"I do." Quackity hums, nodding ever so slightly. He wonders if that's seriously what he pushed and pushed Wilbur to tell him, after all, Wilbur does seem like the type of guy to do that. And here Quackity was investigating him for being himself. "You must have gotten some pretty clear ideas then? Got yourself stuck in thoughts or what?"

"You could say that." Wilbur chuckles softly before squinting. "Actually very accurate."

"Accuracy is something I can manage," Quackity says casually, leaning on his hands. It's quiet, Quackity can feel Wilbur's eyes on him and wonders what he's thinking about. A small risky and needy part of his brain likes this, Wilbur looking at him as they sit in silence that's nothing but calm, both thinking about whatever. Maybe even thinking about eachother-

"You said you knew I called you out for lunch?" Quackity blurts, apparently that was something on his mind and he didn't even know until he said it in an attempt to stop his wandering mind. He turns to face Wilbur, seeing a flash of surprise flash on his face at the sudden break of silence. Quackity swallows, for some odd reason. He tries to joke around to shift his attention away from the part of his mind that's always fixated on Wilbur, Wilbur- oh and Wilbur. "You were really that deep in the what-ifs, huh?

Wilbur smiles, shifting on the bed so he could sit crisscross, leaning on the wall. "Well, admittedly, I hardly registered what you had said at first. When I actually tried to figure it out it took three seconds to understand and decide it's too late by now, you've already aten. At least, probably."

"Doesn't mean you couldn't have," Quackity says, crossing his arms with a quizzical glance. When Wilbur only sheepishly smiles, Quackity huffs and joins him against the wall. "Then you could've said something when I first asked," He adds matter-of-factly, sure most of his frustration was dissolving, but that doesn't mean it's gone.

Unsurprisingly or unexpectedly- Quackity can't tell which- Wilbur looks somewhat guilty now, and Quackity can already make a guess on what it means.

"I very much heard you then." Wilbur mumbles, seemingly finding a new interest in his hands. Quackity guessed correctly then, nice. "Just didn't open it. Dunno why."

"I'll be sure to use that excuse when you're surround by a bunch of zombies and I'm at the only exit."

"When?" Wilbur's eyes widen dramatically, a skeptical look on his face after he settles.

Quackity snickers in response, bumping Wilbur's shoulder with his. "The when might've been intentional, you never know," He says, a playfully teasing tone as Wilbur only grows more skeptical.

"That's a very specific situation, Quackity," he says, looking at him with focused eyes.

Quackity meets his gaze, putting his weight mainly on the hand he's planted in the sheets between them, leaning in with a grin of satisfaction. "Well I do know the specifics of what I want."

Wilbur huffs a small laugh, shoulders rising up at the action before his shoulders go slack. "You're so mean to me."

"I try my best." Quackity quips, tone sarcastic as Wilbur's eyes look into his, him doing the same before his cheeks start feeling warmer than usual. Odd, perhaps it's the lack of air conditioning that came with the apocalypse. They're a lot closer than he first remembers, that's probably the chill temperature- wait. Those don't make any sense put together and he very much knows the temperature is tolerable enough not to be used as an excuse.

"You're trying your best to be rude to me?" Wilbur shakes his head lightly, a smile pulling at his lips and cutting Quackity short of any other excuses he had left. Wilbur's practically fully shifted to face him now, Quackity doesn't remember when that also doesn't remember when the air in this room was so warm. He brushes it off.

"What if I am?" He challenges, his voice sounds so steady he decides there was nothing in the first place that was making his face hot. It definitely isn't because Wilbur's this close to him right now, what was it? Hell, maybe only three inches.

"Well maybe you should try something else," Wilbur says, voice too smooth it travels across Quackity's skin, leaving a pink trail as Quackity freezes, thought carrying on oh so quickly. 'Oh fuck- what did he say?' He knows exactly what he said. 'Something else? Oh- oh my god. Does he- he wouldn't mean...?'

Quackity bites his tongue, inhaling before responding. His face is aflame, he can feel it. His stomach is twisting in the most satisfyingly uncomfortably odd way possible, something hot way pass it's boiling point. "Like what?"

Wilbur scoffs, Quackity can almost feel it.

"Try nice." He states so simply, a great contrast to how Quackity's mind couldn't choose between a mound of emotions to focus on. Is he relieved or disappointed? Embarrassed? Maybe surprised?

Quackity doesn't have a clue.

But he does know how to easily regain his composure, a facade of mischievous looks and teasing smiles as he sits up properly. "We'll see about that."

Wilbur's response comes three seconds late as he seemingly registers something, blinking once and fixing his posture as well. "What happened to a simple yes or no?"

"Wilbur, look at how dark it is." Quackity points out, voice full of laughter as he starts heading off the bed. "We've wasted a whole day."

When he's standing now, he turns to face Wilbur who bit his cheek, retreating a hand Quackity didn't even notice at first. Wilbur crosses his arms, his look of hesitancy shifting to a smug smile. "Maybe that's good. Maybe you should relax more. It'd be beneficial for the both of us."

"Beneficial?" Quackity repeats with a questioning tone. Wilbur nods with a wave of his hand.

"Yeah," He says confidently, sinking into the sheets. "You'd get a break, some chill time. And I'd get a break from being forced to join you with the whole scavenge thing or some shit."

Quackity hums thoughtfully, making Wilbur optimistic as his eyes scanned over the room. Then much to Wilbur's liking, Quackity grins with a sigh. "I'll consider it."

"I know that's the most I could get from you so I'll take it," Wilbur says and his smile softens after a few seconds of silence, Quackity returs the gentleness even if he doesn't know what it's meaning was.

"I guess you're right on that one." Quackity comments before standing in the door way, the dark outline of a couch calling his name. "This door better open tomorrow."

Wilbur chuckles at the tease. "Well that's rather random."

Quackity looks over his shoulder just to see Wilbur raise his eyebrows with amusement. Quackity shakes his head lightly. "You don't wanna ignore me again, right?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good." Quackity hums, stepping outside the bedroom, the warm air of the living room pleasantful.

"More like goodnight-"

"Sure." Quackity shrugs before Wilbur can finish, twisting the door knob. "Goodnight, I guess."

"Fuck you, I'm not saying goodnight anymore."

Even though Wilbur can't see it, Quackity smiles, at ease as sleep becomes a better and brighter idea each passing moment.

"You know what? In fact, Quackity, I hope you have a badnight." He sounds ridiculous, trying to be upset with exhaustion creeping in. Even if he wasn't tired, he was hardly upset. So Quackity doesn't bother defending himself.

"I'm off to get some sleep." He mumbles half-assed as he closes the door with a yawn. But hey, the door will open tomorrow. He's sure of it.