Don't Know How to Feel.

55. Is It a Date?

Wilbur sighed, wiping down the tables before he would completely close up the van. He looked up at Ranboo, waving to him.

“I got it from here Ranbus. Day’s over, you can leave now.”

Ranboo, who had been standing hesitantly inside the van, looking for things to clean up, finally nodded as he stepped out, "Alright, see ya soon Wil.”
 
So Wilbur carried on, cleaning up the tables and benches, silence lingering in the warm air as he did.

It was quite a nice day, he’ll admit. The server seems to be having more and more of those recently. And Wilbur was all here for it, warm bright days are easily enjoyable.
 
“You know, you look good in an apron.”

Wilbur almost jumped, not even hearing Quackity walk over.

“Quackity?” Wilbur turned around quickly at Quackity’s voice, finally seeing him leaning onto a nearby table, "Oh, t-thanks then.”

Quackity only smiled, walking over and throwing an arm over Wilbur’s shoulder, "Did I startle you?”

“No, just didn’t even know you were here.”

“Same difference.”

“You come here to help me clean up the van?” Wilbur teased, wrapping an arm around Quackity as he looked down at him, “How sweet.”

Quackity only scoffed before bringing them closer into a short kiss.

“Nope, I’m here to wait for you to do that yourself.”

Wilbur frowned as Quackity leaned back on the table, a smug smile on his face as he nudged for Wilbur to go back to cleaning. And when Wilbur deepened his frown, expectingly waiting, all Quackity did was hold up the spray bottle he was using.

Wilbur groaned, still, he took the cleaner and continued to close up the van. When he was finally done, he hung up his apron, ignoring the way Quackity complained about him doing so.

His complaining didn’t last long, exactly as Wilbur expected. Now he was rambling on about something to do with Las Nevadas as he sat on the counter, Wilbur standing next to him as he looked over his own glasses, cleaning them up.
 
“Do these look cleaner?” Wilbur asked, putting his glasses on and facing Quackity who paused as he turned, then squinted his eyes at Wilbur.
 
“Sure," he shrugged, “Now back to the whole club thing, I said, I thought we should’ve-”

Wilbur cut him off, standing up straight with a small laugh, "You talk about that country of yours a whole lot, Big Q.”

“Yea well you’re the one that sits here and listens to it,” Quackity said, leaning towards Wilbur who only hummed in response.

“Well, I like your voice.”

“Oh, you do now?”
 
Wilbur nodded, elbows on the counter as he looked up at Quackity, “Yes, I do. So I’d like it if you continued talking.”

Quackity smiled, resting his hands on Wilbur’s shoulders, "Then I think you’re gonna like how this is gonna sound-”

“What?” Wilbur cut him off before he could even continue, raising an eyebrow that Quackity huffed at.

“Shut up so I can talk,” he told him, but there wasn’t a single hint of harshness in his voice. Wilbur nodded again, pressing a hand against Quackity’s chest with a cheeky grin.

“Of course, for you, darling.”

“Now, listen,” Quackity began, tilting his head to the side as Wilbur inched closer, “What would you say if I told you that the two of us could take a trip to that nice cabin you wanted to go to?”