Quackbur Oneshots- [TNT DUO] (requests open)

Ideally, I'd Be With You: Part Three

When Quackity makes it to work he washes his hands under almost unbearably cold water.

Still, his right hand seems to burn.

It's utterly ridiculous, but the scolding sensation of Wilbur clasping their hands together over some similarity is still here, making Quackity feel a little stupid.

It had been so casual, a smile, an excited "Yo, me too!" and they were reaching for each other to bring it in or whatever.

Quackity, however, isn't extremely positive his reactions are oh-so casual.

He can still sort of feel Wilbur's hand, fingertips on the back of his. He can not, for the life of him, get rid of the image where Wilbur is so sweetly smiling, or the one where he hums in agreement before taking a sip from his straw, any small mannerism and movement making Quackity pause to wonder how the heck he's even real.

See that- that right there- lacks nearly every bit of definition that makes up the word casual.

So Quackity can't shake off the feeling bubbling in his chest when he catches a glimpse of Karl just barely ahead of him. He almost turns away before either of them acknowledge each other, before Karl can see the possible pink in his cheeks that doesn't belong there.

Because he's such a fool of a human, slight worry overcomes him as he approaches his friend, like Karl knows he coincidentally ended up eating breakfast with Wilbur, like Karl knows they were chatting, like Karl knows all the thoughts that ran through his head during that time period, absolutely crashing his once effective mental filter, one that is now completely broken when it comes to Wilbur.

But he doesn't get the chance to retreat, facing Karl as he musters up a grin when the man spins around, Quackity laughing in two short nervous blocks. "Hey man."

"Quackity." Karl smiles eagerly, lifting a hand to his shoulder Quackity almost fears that he's gonna know Wilbur too once had his hand there, effortlessly sucking the air out of his lungs for three seconds. "You're five minutes late and that like, definitely means something when it comes to you."

"Traffic," Quackity says, he lies. He isn't about to say he lost time because he was previously enjoying a meal with some guy he can't stop thinking about. That feels too wordy and embarrassing.

Karl, however, scoffs and Quackity bites his cheek. "Nice excuse, who gave it to you?" He asks teasingly, lips pulled upwards. "I know it's not a man because you could never. So maybe your mom called?"

Quackity rolls his eyes. He can't with this dude. Still, Karl winks and giggles.

"Did you tell her I miss her?"

Quackity swats Karl's arm away, lightly shoving him away with a huff. "No because she didn't call, no because she would never be interested in you, and no because you're lanky ass somehow ended up with Sapnap."

Karl makes an odd noise, something a little bit like a squawk and a little bit like a gasp. It shouldn't be possible. But it's supposedly a sound he makes when he is offended. "My lanky ass? I'll have you know I have recently started going to the gym three days a week," He states confidently, standing back and flexing his nonexistent muscles.

Quackity smiles. "Yeah to watch Sapnap workout, you know, see him working his muscles and sweating, that shit. You don't fool me, Karl."

Karl sputters, brows furrowing before he manages himself with a shake of his head, making Quackity giggle. "No, actually!"

Any previous worries about unreasonable things and thoughts Quackity once had have officially left him. He sighs, sarcasm all over. "Yes, yes, Karl," He says, "Don't worry, everyone who has ever lived believes you."