Duckshots!

For You! (Gladstone & Donald)

2017 Ducktales (pre cannon)
(One sided?)Gladstone x Donald
Major Character 'Death'

Gladstone had been extremely lucky since he was born, so he never understood why sometimes he felt alone and sad. There were, without fail, two ways to cheer him up. Well, technically one but they seem to be a package deal.

Usually when he felt down one of the two people would call.

If it was Della, he could expect a run down of something stupid Donald had just done or an invitation to an adventure or gala she didn't want to attend alone. This would be due to Donald having weaseled himself out of going. Gladstone would accept, of course, and force or trick his male cousin into going, like always.

If it was Donald, well, that had only a happen once. Donald had crashed his new car and didn't know who else to call. He thought Della would just laugh at him and Scrooge would've just mumble about hospital bills even though he didn't end up going.

That seemed to be the way, though. His own luck of getting to see Donald, canceled out by Donald's own negative fortune of something bad happening in return. That's not to say they didn't have a good time when they hung out, just the opposite, however the opportunities were not ideal.

...

Gladstone woke up to it. Donald's name flashing across his phone. He couldn't help but smile, despite knowing what it meant. It had been too long since he had seen either of the Duck twins and he had been down in the dumps, more than usual recently. Though the fact it was the middle of the night worried him slightly. He hoped that maybe his nephews had hatched and Della/Donald wanted to tell him as soon as possible. 

"Hey, Donny!" Gladstone said, holding back a yawn.

"Glad," Donald didn't even say his whole name. He could hear the duck was crying and his breath was ragged.

"Donald, what's wrong?" Gladstone bolted up on the bed. He hadn't even been this distraught when he crashed the car.

"Can you come to the boat? She, Gladstone, god, I can't." Donald couldn't form sentences.

"Don, it'll be okay. Give me ten minutes." Gladstone chose a safe nickname and a calm voice as he rushed to get ready.

"Gladstone, please," was all he heard before Donald hung up. 

...

He was past the point of fear and anger. He was just sad. He hadn't slept for three days. Hadn't eaten in two.

Donald sat on the edge of the boat, staring at the stars. He kept checking over his shoulder every few minutes on the eggs that sat just beyond the doorway. He hoped to see his green clad cousin walking on the boat without a care like he always did.

He didn't know why he had called Gladstone in the first place. He thought he just needed a reason to be mad and Gladstone provided lots of those. Then he thought maybe he should be the one to tell him instead of the newspaper. They had finally gotten wind of Della's disappearance. However, he couldn't deny that the real reason was he needed someone that would listen to him and Gladstone always did. He never knew why, but he was thankful. It gave him peace of mind, knowing he could call him for something. For anything. For nothing. For everything. For this.

"Don?" There was a light tap on his shoulder, and Donald jumped. "Are you alright?"

Gladstone could tell that Donald was clearly not alright. His nightshirt was only half button, and the buttons were wrong for that matter. He looked like he had brushed his feathers in a week. To top everything off, he was on the verge of tears again.

"Do you want some coffee?" Gladstone asked, helping him up. He was not taking no for an answer. He placed Donald on a stool and looked around the kitchen. His eyes adjust to the poor light.

Gladstone's eyes widen at the sight of the eggs on the kitchen floor on their cot. Della never let them leave the mansion even when they went on a week-long adventure to the amazon a few weeks ago. She had Duckworth watch them. He knew better than to mention it, though. He continued making coffee, and Donald's breathing went from normal to ragged to normal. He still refused to speak, but Gladstone wouldn't push. He walked to Donald while the beans brewed.

Without a word, Gladstone ran his fingers through his feathers on his head and pressed them down as best he could. Donald sighed and leaned into his hands. When he finishe, he reached for Donald's shirt. He paused, but decided it needed to be done. He unbuttoned the blue silk shirt, and Donald reopened his eyes and watched Gladstone's hands. Gladstone felt his blush deepen every time his fingers grazed the younger bird's feathers.

When he finished undoing them, he started with fixing the collar and Donald looked up at him. His gaze was far away though, and he didn't seem to recognize Gladstone's discomfort.

He locked his jaw and started rebuttoning the shirt. Time passed agonizingly slowly for the goose. He hated to see Donald like this. Usually he wouldn't be allowed to do this or Gladstone would be making jokes at Donald's expense but this was just upsetting. He finished the last button and went to pour the coffee however Donald fell forward, trapping Gladstone in a hug. After a second of hesitation, the gander wrapped his arms around him. For the duck to look so rough, he didn't smell half bad. Sea salt and caramel, Donald's stress food, filled Gladstone's nose until Donald pulled away.

Gladstone walked over to the cabinet and grabbed a cup. He had hoped Donald would talk on his own, but hadn't yet. He handed him a fresh cup, his first in several days.

"Thanks." The first word to pass between since they walked into the kitchen. Donald sipped the coffee. "Perfect every damn time."

Gladstone tensed. Donald didn't curse.

"Donald, what's the matter? Where's Della?" He was hesitant to mention her but it seemed to be the most likely reason he was here.

"Gone." Donald looked like he was going to throw his coffee mug.

"Gone?" Gladstone asked. Then glanced at the eggs. "Donald, I am so sorry."

"It's not your fault. It's Uncle Scrooge!" The handle of the mug broke. Gladstone took the handle from him and tossed it in the trash. He waited until he was back in front of him to speak.

"Uncle Scrooge? Are you sure?" Donald nodded.

"He sent her to space and she," 'didn't come back.' Gladstone finished in his head. "I'll be raising the boys on my own."

"Don." Gladstone whispered and grabbed his hand. He didn't know what to say.

"I just thought you should hear from family, not the news." He looked back down at the broken coffee mug. Gladstone knew that was a lie. He had heard plenty of other things from the news, like the fact he was going to be a uncle in the first place. 

"You're not alone, Donny. I'll help out." Donald looked back up at him. He shook his head.

"I couldn't ask you to do that."

"Don't have too." He looked like he would protest again. "Look Donald. You and Della got me through a lot more than I care to admit. I'm repaying the favor for her, for you."

Donald could hear the love he put in those two words. He nodded and knew everything would be okay. He reached up for Gladstone and they held each other the rest of the night.

Word Count: 1292