Alone With Him

Cupid.

Shakily Quackity drew in a breath, he didn't know what to do.

Should he say it back? Say thank you? What do you say to a villainous murderer confessing his love to you?

His mind was running at a thousand times what should be normal and his heart was even faster. Slowly, hesitantly he just hide his face from Wilbur. He was scared of what the villians reaction would be, would he be killed for not saying it back?

Did he love Wilbur? No...no he doesn't think so...

What he felt for Wilbur wasn't love it was something twisted....dark and possesive that curled in the corners of his mind.

"You don't have to say it back darling"

Wilbur placed a soft kiss on his head, it did comfort him a little.

"Okay...thanks.."

It helped.

"I'm happy to just be around you, i don't mind what we are."

That...hurt a little but...still helped.

The next week was spent making himself confused more and more.

Him, Quackity and Ace. Two sides of himself, was Quackity attracted to Wilbur the same way Ace was attracted to Siren? Was Quackity attracted to Siren?

Wilbur, Siren, William. How did he feel about his once captor now friend? Who loves him?

It was a bit much for him to deal with, so he didn't. He ignored the problem so eventually it would go away and he would never have to deal with it. He felt he was doing so great, he was keeping his urges down and the bird was near silent in his head.

Then Wilbur would do stupid stuff like walk into the room without a shirt on and covered in blood, then his shrike would lose it.

Immediately he rushed to his feet, twittering in a panic as he checked the brunette for any injuries. When he found none Quackity dragged him to the bed to "clean" him. This "cleaning" happened every so often and involved Quackity trapping Wilbur on the bed once the villian was secure and he was sure that there would be no escape, he would, beginning at Wilbur's face, lick all of the crimson off him.

Wilbur would lay still hands sometimes gripping the sheets and let it happen to him, it wasn't something Quackity could control after all.

His tounge licked away the last of the blood staining Wilbur's collar and then sitting up Quackity forced himself to stop. Most days he didn't, Wilbur would be subjected to close to half an hour more of his "cleaning" as it took a while to get blood off his shirt. Quackity took a deep breath sitting beside the brunette mumbling an apology, which Wilbur ignored, the two lay beside eachother in silence.

This weird routine of waking up alone most days, to wait around for someone he thought he hated only to be filled with joy at their return.

Very weird.

Quackity sighed, time had passed quickly and he no longer hated the idea of staying at Wilbur's side. He would have to tell Wilbur eventually, he knew that.

But they were happy, his bird and Wilbur were both happy.

He

He was happy.

Him, his bird and......his Wilbur....

They were happy.