In Cold Blood (A Tntduo Fic)

VIII

Wilbur awoke with blankets draped over him as sunlight fluttered though the curtains. He sat up, stretching before looking around.

This wasn't his bed.

What the fuck?

He traced his memory back to the night before, trying to remember where he was, how he got there, and what he did to get there in the first place. As he tried to remember, he looked around the room. One thing caught his eye that caused it all to come back to him; a briefcase on the bedside table with a folded piece of paper, a stack of playing cards, and three dice on top.

Of course he would wake up in a random bed in Las Nevadas. He picked up the paper, unfolding it to see writing scrawled on it.

"Hope this helps you remember where you were in case I'm not here when you wake up. Feel free to take a shower. And don't worry, I slept on the sofa. -Q"

This wasn't just a random bed in Las Nevadas. This was Quackity's bed. Fuck. Wilbur's mind went wild, as if it had looked at a pool of dirty thoughts and just too a swan dive in. They hadn't... done anything, had they?

Wilbur carefully pulled the covers off his legs. Right, he still had his pants, and his trousers for that matter, and the sheets were still clean. They didn't do anything. Thank god.

He stood up, feeling a bit like he was intruding. He pushed through the door, squinting at the much brighter light in the hallway. He made his way down it before coming to the doorway leading to the kitchen.

At least he assumed it was the kitchen, based on the still-dressed-in-pajamas Quackity that seemed to float around as he grabbed things out of cabinets. He hummed softly, occasionally singing a few words in what Wilbur recognized as Spanish.

And suddenly, Wilbur felt like he was glued to the spot he was standing in.

Quackity cut off mid sentence when he saw Wilbur. "I- uh, you're awake."

Wilbur nodded, as if anything he said would cut the thick tension in the air that condensed as they looked at each other. "Yeah."

Quackity nodded towards a bundle of cloth that sat on the counter, his nonchalant behavior almost brushing off the vulnerable state Wilbur had caught him in. "Feel free to go take a shower. There's towels there."

"What, are you saying I smell bad?"

Quackity huffed. "Yes, you smell like shit. Happy?"

Wilbur scrunched his nose a bit. "Fine, I'll go."

He walked up to the counter, locking eyes with Quackity as he grabbed the towels.

"God, you're always like this then," Quackity muttered.

Wilbur smirked, leaning over the counter. "You love it though."

"Fuck off and take a shower. It's on your left when you leave this room," Quackity said, backing away and grabbing a carton of eggs off the counter. "Crepes?"

"Uh, sure?" Wilbur said, caught a bit off guard. Quackity hummed in response as Wilbur took the towels and left, heading back down the hallway and into the bathroom.

Wilbur dropped the towel on the bathroom counter, closing and locking the door behind him. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. God, he really did look like shit. He looked away, turning on the shower and pulling his clothes off, making sure to put them in a spot they wouldn't get wet.

The hot water stung his back. It always did, but he liked the heat. For the most part, Wilbur just stood under the water. When he got out, his hair clung to the sides of his head. He dried off and quickly got dressed. He didn't have a change of clothes, but his old ones would do fine.