Quackbur Oneshots- [TNT DUO] (requests open)

Undercurrents

this writing is like two years old i apologize for any mistakes and/or bad quality T-T

Were the casino lights always this bright? Quackity couldn't tell you, the music felt like it would crack his head any beat now. Distracted by the noise, he didn't even notice Wilbur standing before him.

He wondered if Wilbur even saw him, it didn't look like it. Too busy talking to some guy with split dyed hair, half white and half black. He was even taller than Wilbur. Quackity took a stepback as a stranger passed through.

The man was accompanied by a shorter man, brown hair and oh, Quackity realized that it was Tubbo. What was he doing here? Quackity couldn't tell you that either.

What he could tell you was how embarrassed he felt when Wilbur turned around, locking eyes with him. Quackity only then realized he had been staring, quickly looking away and about to walk somewhere else until Wilbur was pulling him back.

Embarrassed. That was the word. For sure. And why? Fuck, Quackity doesn't know- again. The only thing he managed to do is glance down at their hands, intertwined and making Quackity warm. It was probably just the alcohol.

"Hey, Big Q."

Quackity huffed, and Wilbur dropped his hand at the slightest move. "I told you not to call me that."

"Sorry then. Thought it was a good nickname."

"It is my nickname." Quackity said, a deadpan expression before giving a slight glare at the man in front of him. "I just don't want you to use it."

Quackity doesn't even register it at first, but they're walking away from the crowd. Well,

Quackity's leading Wilbur out of the crowd and Wilbur's following.

"What if I came up with my own nickname for you, could I use that one?" Wilbur asks, tilting his head to a side with a floppy grin and Quackity wonders why that made him miss the feeling of their hands together.

"Depends on what it is." Quackity tells him, feigning seriousness as he lifts a brow. Wilbur stops to think for a moment, then walking after Quackity as the shorter led them even farthe raway from the crowd. He didn't know why, he just felt like doing so. Maybe because the music was way too loud and this was his way of escape. Maybe.

And so the two find each other in a hallway of the casino, dimmed lights and locked doors. It's quiet, and Quackity sighs in relief as he leans against a wall. Wilbur had been humming a large majority of the walk here, stopping and joining Quackity's side.

"Quick question for you." Quackity breaks the silence, not facing Wilbur as he stared at the wall across of them. Wilbur hums as a response, and Quackity almost thought he was going to huma full song. So he mentally laughed at himself before actually asking anything."Why'd you follow me?"

"Follow?"

Quackity stutters for a second, finally facing Wilbur. "Not like that- duh. Just, I was walking

away and you came with. You could've stayed with your friends, Tubbo and that tall guy.""Tall guy?" Wilbur repeats the phrase with a scrunch of his face before chuckling. "That's Ranboo. He's closer to Tubbo than he is with me, I only actually meet him around three months ago."

"Oh, well. You could've stayed with Ranboo and Tubbo."

"I could have." Wilbur says thoughtfully, and Quackity swears that the man leaned closer, even

if only a tiny bit. "Or I could've walked away from all the noise and sat here with you."Quackity scoffed at his answer, turning his head away. "Yea but they're your friends. I would pick my friends over you any day."

"Ouch." Wilbur jokes, lifting his shoulder as he squints his eyes dramatically.

"Don't act surprised your not on my number one bff-forever list." Quackity crosses his arms, back pressed against the wall, glancing up at Wilbur. Then he's aware of the small smirk that's on his own face so he looks down, bangs hanging as he kicks the carpeted floor with a huff. "I mean, you didn't think so, obviously. Right?" He asks with a breathless laugh, this time his expression is completely controlled and built by his own accord, maliciously crafted, perhaps.

Wilbur, however, seems effortless with the way he raises his shoulders and eyebrows with a smug smile. A whole 'Did I?' that almost feels like a light mocking. Not in a rude way just- just how it is. Quackity doesn't know. He can't explain everything, after all.

But Wilbur's movements, his facial expression- it all flows naturally and it makes Quackity's neck itch with the comparison of his hard efforts to appear composed and Wilbur's stupid stupid demeanor that apparently- in Quackity's eyes- just flows to him. 

"Of course not, sweety," He says cheerily as Quackity's cheeks go hot instantly, an unexplainable thing. Wilbur's face shifts casual as he rocks on his feet and flicks something Quackity doesn't catch, leaning in. "That's the nickname I got for ya, by the way. Hope you like it-"

Quackity can't even respond before Wilbur is suddenly gone, gone, out of his personal bubble as he points lazily at Quackity.

"You're also not on the highest podium, don't worry." Wilbur adds. "Don't feel guilt about not being friends back- because I don't think we're friends either."

"Okay, first off, I wouldn't have felt any guilt."

Wilbur hisses sarcastically, pretending like he was burned, a hand held out to Quackity as if displaying the non-existent injury. "No remorse? Damn. Sweety-"

"Second off," Quackity starts, voice firm as he holds on to Wilbur's wrist for a second, the constant movement of his hand forming a growing dullness between his brows. Wilbur takes the hint, thankfully, an expression Quackity doesn't understand flashing on Wilbur's face before he pockets his hand and waits. Quackity blinks at him, then a second time, he knows, admittedly, he's had more alcohol than some water this week. But thankfully, it's easing him if only a little. Obviously, otherwise he wouldn't be chit-chatting with Wilbur of all people. He's even able to smile a little when he speaks. "The nickname is a no-go. A no."

"Really?" Wilbur frowns and Quackity purses his lips and shrugs.

"Find something better."

"Hm." Wilbur thinks, swaying back and forth for a moment, landing close- closer- as he squints down at Quackity and chuckles at his own thought. "How about my best buddy who doesn't like me?"

Quackity, against how he'd normally react in the presence of Wilbur, finds himself snickering a little before shaking his head, tilting it upward to meet Wilbur's gaze. "Doesn't have a ring to it. Not catchy and too long. Try again?"

"How about just best buddy?" Wilbur offers with a raise of a brow and Quackity denies it as well, leaning into the way Wilbur's stupid and smooth swaying acts like a wave, pushing, pulling, and then the two are standing so terribly, unamingably, (fantastically, and remarkably) close.

Quackity's hand grazes, it does, fingers moving across the top of Wilbur's hand, a thumb slipping against a wrist. Nobody says anything even if they notice. Rather, Quackity just keeps looking up, keeps meeting those brown eyes.

"Thought we clarified we weren't friends," He says carefully. It's still light, of course, still the back and forth, still this playful thing they've recently formed. But it's more cautious, something that he says with half the oxygen, something that is laid down with a brick.

"We aren't," Wilbur agrees, his tone following through with Quackity's change as well, he steps closer, it's all just happening and Quackity feels alright here. All of a sudden when Wilbur's eyes are examining his face, every inch of it, shifty around the lips, it's not a bad thing. It can be good, maybe? Quackity doesn't answer that even if he has the answer underneath his tongue. "We're..." He shakes his head as he searches his mind for the perfect word. But perhaps it just doesn't exist, as Wilbur's shoulders sag a little with his sigh. "Something else."

That sounds about right, Quackity mentally decides when fingers tapping knuckles became palms sliding together.