Alone With Him

Self Regulation.

Quackity wouldn't admit it out loud but he was terrified. He saw the look on Wilbur's face as he left the room, that wasn't a face that Wilbur made day to day. That was Siren's 'my plan has failed' face, tumultuous and riddled with rage. Not a smile or even a glance at Quackity before he stormed out.

It took hours and hours before Wilbur came back into the room, his Siren costume donned and blood on his face. It was a sight indeed.

Shrugging off his coat Wilbur walked into the bathroom without so much as a glance at Quackity, it hurt...

Why did it hurt when Wilbur ignored him...?

He huffed and rolled back over tugging the blankets up. If Wilbur was going to ignore him for no reason he could do the same. It took a few minutes but when Wilbur came back it took every will of Prime for Quackity to ignore him.

Hair wet while slicked back with his glasses on and nothing else, a towel around his waist looking pissed and Quackity was ready to drop dead.

Muttering mutinously Wilbur searched through his chest of draws, it was only a guess but considering the brunette has been shy about changing in the same room as him Quackity figured he was so frustrated he forgot a shirt and pants.

"I'm going out tomorrow and I'll be gone before you wake, turn on the tv when you get up."

With a huff Quackity sat up,

"And why should i?"

Leaning down slowly, chest still bare and warm from the shower, Wilbur made himself level with the avian on the bed. He flaunted glowing red eyes and an indescribably sadistic expression, pale lips pulled back in a devilish smirk.

"Because if you don't, I will tie you to the top spire of the hero commission and make you watch the city burn around you."

A shiver ran down Quackity's spine and shook through his wings sending his feathers straight up,

"I don't want to hurt you birdie, that doesn't mean that i won't."

With a chuckle Wilbur walked back to the bathroom pants clenched in his fist.

Oh prime...that was.....hot...

No no no no no no no no no no no no.

Not hot, Wilbur threatening him was not hot.

Wilbur was a dangerous person.
Wilbur was a psychopath.
Wilbur was a murderer.
Wilbur was stupid and mean.
Wilbur was too hot to sleep next to with the covers up.
Wilbur was too hot.

Groaning Quackity covered his blushing face and prayed to Prime that he would not be judged for finding a serial killer hot.

He sighed and layed down. Everything about how his life was going told him there was one path left.

The path of a fallen.

He couldn't bare the thought.

To go back on everything he had been taught, everything he believed in his whole life.

All for some small comfort?

Not worth it.

No one was worth turning on everything he knew and loved.

Especially not a murderous psychopath.