WANNA BET? || C!TNTDUO FANFIC

Lunch or Something

Wilbur POV:

Wilbur sat on his bed, bored out of his mind. He was just thinking that he'd go and annoy Quackity -although he didn't want to seem TOO clingy.

A knock on the door made Wilbur get up and open it smugly.

Quackity stood there, looking not half irritated at himself.

Wilbur leant against the doorframe. "Well well! Look whos coming to MY office now. Hope you weren't spotted coming in here, lord save your reputation."

"This isn't an office." Quackity protested, looking around at the disheveled room. "I'd personally use the word 'hovel' but that would be generous." He added.

"Wrong! This is where I do all my most important work."

Quackity gave him a look of disdain, shutting the door behind him.

Wilbur looked at him expectantly. "Well? You've sought me out. What do you want."

Quackity sighed as if the next words out of his mouth were going to hurt him greatly. "I was going to ask if you wanted to go out for lunch or something," he suggested.

Wilbur tried to not look too smug.

"Stop giving me that look. Don't come then." Quackity snapped.

Wilbur laughed. "No, no I'd be delighted" he replied.

Quackity smiled slightly. "I'll take that as a yes then," he said stiffly, grabbing Wilbur's hand and dragging him out of the room.

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Wilbur POV:

As they walked in the direction of wherever Quackity was taking him, Wilbur looked down at the quick, confident pace of his companion, chuckling softly to himself as he realised that Quackity had to walk twice as fast to keep up with him.

He made sure to make extra long strides.

Quackity looked up at him quizzically. "What's so funny huh? Hearing voices?"

"Yep. They're saying you're short."

He received a shove in the shoulder and he made sure to 'accidentally' step on Quackity's foot in return.

"Aren't you worried about people seeing you with me?" Wilbur asked him as they passed a few people on their way.

Quackity rolled his eyes. "No, because I'm a bigger person than that. I have enough dignity to- OH MY GOD I KNOW THEM QUICK HIDE!" He whisper shouted, shoving Wilbur quickly behind the corner of a building and trying to look casual as one of his employees walked past.

Wilbur let out a noise of protest and crossed his arms. "Bigger person huh?"

Quackity looked sheepish. "Shut up. Rumours spread fast at the Casino."

Wilbur rolled his eyes, lighting a cigarette and following after Quackity again, hands in his coat pockets.

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Wilbur POV:

Quackity and Wilbur stood in front of the small cafe on the street corner.

It was a small place but cozy. It wasn't too fancy, just a few tables and chairs inside.

There was hardly anybody inside, except for the waiter who was wiping the counters, and the owner who was looking through some old magazines.

They sat down at a table tucked away in the corner. Wilbur pretended not to notice why they were furthest possible from the window.

"Have you eaten yet today?" Quackity asked.
Wilbur shook his head. "nope."

"want anything?"

"just coffee. Black."

Quackity sighed. "aight. wait here." he went and ordered while Wilbur waited at their table for two.

he returned with the coffee quickly and Wilbur let out a noise of mock disappointment. "back so soon? I was enjoying the view." He said, smirking.

Quackity bristled. "why do you do that?"

Wilbur cocked his head curiously. "do what?"

"You know, flirt and tease and stuff. how am I supposed to tell if you've quote-unquote 'fallen for me' if you always act like that? I can barely tell that you hate me." Quackity rambled out.

Wilbur shrugged. "Because I know the ways to push your buttons. simply insulting you is old school, and slides off you like water off a duck's back -pardon the pun. But seeing you squirm when I tell you I'm turned on by your axe at my throat? watching you realise you can't get to me by your over-aggressive attitude? It infuriates you. And that is oh-so-satisfying." He said in a low whisper, staring into Quackity's eyes intensely.

Quackity looked away. "seems like you've got me all figured out huh." He said, crossing his arms.

"yup," Wilbur responded confidently. " I mean, the reason I knew you'd agree to this dumb wager was that I know you can't refuse competition."

Quackity huffed and narrowed his eyes. "Yeah well guess what Wilbur? You're not so hard to figure out yourself."

"oh is that so?" asked Wilbur, raising an eyebrow.

"I've known people just like you. I've known you yourself for a long time. I know that the way you carry yourself is to do with your crippling insecurity and nagging self-doubt. I know you have a tendency to project and a habit of manipulating the people you love until the relationship is beyond repair. Everything about you is fake. Your ego, your facade, your jokes, your interest in Las Nevadas. Don't think you can get me to let my guard down."

Wilbur's smile faded and his eyes narrowed. "oh yes, self-sabotage is a sweet romance, is it not Alex?"

Quackity flinched.

Quackity POV:

Wilbur continued. "If I'm really that transparent then why did you practically just describe yourself?"

Quackity stood up, slamming down his coffee cup. "let's not forget who beat you all those years ago." he snarled, jabbing his finger at Wilbur.

Wilbur laughed, but not in his usual manner. it was cold and flat. "I do. and it wasn't you." he stood up as well, facing off the smaller man coldly.

"And you were wrong about one thing ducky." he said, his eyes regaining a slight bit of their usual twinkle, this time with a hint of something Quackity didn't recognise. "my 'jokes' aren't fake. I'm fucking hilarious."

And with that, he swished around and stalked out the door.

Quackity cursed after him and then slumped down into his seat, shooting glares at the staring patrons.

The owner had looked up with intrigue, the argument obviously much more entertaining than his magazines.

Quackity placed his head against the cool wood of the table with his hands covering his face. He was put out at the sudden change in what was a (semi) enjoyable time and had a few more things he'd like to say to that asshole, but wasn't going to chase after Wilbur like a dramatic lover.

Whatever. He'd be back.