Safety Net ~ TntDuo

-u-n-o-

Quackity was having his typical day of running the Casino, or at least the finished parts of it, training Slimecicle, running errands, teaching Fundy some poker tricks, the usual. The work was tiring, and expensive, and dangerous, and lonely. Sure he had the workers, but he sometimes couldn't help but remember everyone else, Karl, Sapnap, George, he still missed them sometimes even if they betrayed him.

Quackity sat at his office bar, wings aching like hell from flying to and from stores all day, incredibly stiff and burning slightly from getting covered in snow in Snowchester. Glass half empty with his third helping of overly expensive wine, he laid his head down to try and get a little rest before he had to go pick up some really heavy slot machine, that was going to make his already unbearable pain even worse.

He dreamt of being chased by Dream, Sapnap and George at his side and running to Mexican L'manburg. He kept saying 'Eyy, Man' and his hand was green for some reason, but everything else he had completely forgotten once he woke up.

"Excuse me, Quackity from Las Nevadas? Its time to get up, you need to pick up our new game!" Slimecicle slightly shook Quackity awake, making him jump as he accidentally brushed his hand on his left wing. "Ay, su puta madre!" He yelled, pain and shock flowing through him, then looked up to see Slimecicle, terrified spelled out and gooping down his face. "Oh no, don't worry slime, just a bad dream, haha. Anyways, thanks for waking me up, your in charge until I get back, okay?"

Slimecicle looked relieved, "Okay Quackity from Las Nevadas, I'll make sure our legacy's stays the best it can be while your gone!". Slimecicle walked back into the elevator, Quackity smiled, Slimecicle was already the best, even if Q owned Las Nevadas.

 Quackity always said funny words Slime couldn't understand, usually when he was mad too. Foolish had told him it was something called Spanish, but to him that just sounded like a yummy chocolate bar.

Quackity grabbed a navy hoodie, painfully pulling his wings through the custom holes in the back, a and map to the shop where he had almost all his gambling machines custom made, and jumped out his window and into the afternoon pink sky.

Right now he was just gliding, which didn't hurt that much, but as soon as he had to move his wings he knew it would be incredibly painful. He could probably walk, but it would be way after midnight when he came back, and he didn't want to leave his staff alone for that long, especially Slime.

He carefully flapped his wings as best as he could, reciting every curse word in English, Spanish and fuck it, Dutch too, Fundy had taught him a couple swears that were definitely being used right now because of how much it hurt, but he would have to continue, or crash into the ground. A couple horrible flaps later, and that second option was looking very tempting, and just one more finalized his decision. He carefully pulled in his wings, which obviously hurt more because why wouldn't it?, and landed face first into the grass.

Quackity just accepted he was on the floor now, his wings fell to the grass below him as he tried to get some motivation to stand.

"Duckling! What is your magnificent self doing on the floor?" Wilbur yelled, putting out his cigarette as he walked closer to Quackity, but grabbing a new one out of habit. Quackity just groaned, he'd rather lay there for 13 and a half years than talk to Wilbur, but right now his help was better than nothing.

"Are you okay, handsome? Overworking yourself again?" Wilbur tried to help Quackity up, grabbing him by the waist and accidentally pushing up his wings. Quackity cried out in pain, for someone who used to have wings, he certainly didn't know how to care for them.

Wilbur stood silently for a moment, realizing Q must have flown too much without rest. Him and Quackity were supposed to be mortal enemies, why did he feel the need to do anything he could to make Quackity feel better? He brushed it off, taking another puff from his cigarette, he just knew how bad wing pains could be, he told himself, nothing more.

"Sit, or I guess lay, still, Duckling, I'll make the aches all better." Wilbur smiled, even if Quackity could see nothing but black with funky colors and shapes, and sat himself on Quackity's legs.

"What the hell are you doing, man? Get of-" Quackity started to protest, being cut-off by the pain of Wilbur rubbing his right wing. It felt horrible for about 15 seconds, but slowly afterwards it calmed down, and Wilbur's massages just felt so amazing, and relieving, and any other positive adjective you could think of, really.

"Feel better, Quack? Maybe try moving it." Quackity moved his wing back, brushing against Wil's cheek, making a small blush creep its way onto his face. "I-uh, thanks man? It feels really good." Wilbur continued onto the left wing, and then both at the same time, and his back as well, it really wasn't necessary after about half an hour of massages, but Quackity didn't mind, after all it did feel like heaven itself.

"What were you doing that left you on the floor like this?" Wilbur asked, making his movements slower and gentler as he prepared to stop but couldn't bring himself too.

"Nothin' Wil, just too much flying for one day." Quackity flapped his wings, silently telling Wilbur to stop, which he hesitantly did. Truth was, Wilbur loved helping Quackity, and Quackity loved Wilbur helping him, but neither would admit it, not yet. Wilbur moved off him, and Quackity sat up.

"Well, where are you going now, maybe I can help?" Wilbur asked, he kinda wished Quackity would say no, but the thought of helping him more, and of him praising Wil for being so good, it was too much, and way too tempting.

"Um, just getting a new machine for the casino, you don't have to help though, don't worry." Quackity smiled at him, Wilbur may or may not have turned redder than the TNT in one of his many coat pockets at that, but Quackity would never know because it was pitch black at that point. Wilbur noticed the map spread on the floor and grabbed it, looking at where it pointed.

"I wanna help, I know how bad wing pains can be, trust me, just sit here, I'll be back before you can even finish a game of Solitaire." Wilbur stood up, shoving the map in another one of the infinite number of pockets in his coat. "They're better now, I got i-" Quackity was cut-off by Wilbur's finger on his lips, "Shush, duckling, don't worry, I've got it. Just rest here, let's see-" Wilbur looked through his pockets for anything Quackity might like.

"Here, umm, some cookies from Nikki, they might be a bit stale, some honey from Tubbo, you know what, just take the whole coat, much easier anyways, and I don't want you freezing." Wilbur took off his jacket and layed it on Quackity's shoulders, his wings curling in so it completely covered him.

Wilbur leaned down and grabbed his map, quickly kissing Quackity's neck but in a way where he could easily play it off as an accident. Quackity blushed, sure he hated Wilbur's guts, but being taken care of by basically anyone like that was sure to make a man a little red in the face, at least.

"Thank you, man, genuinely. I'll repay you somehow, promise." Wilbur smiled and walked off, Quackity watched him happily, and when he was out of view, he replayed the moment over and over in his head.

A/N~ Holy Muffins, 1300 words! That's more than I usually write, so don't get used to it lmao.