The Rivals Collide

Chapter Three-Play Fighting to Piquant flirting

The alarm blared at them, its high pitched tone sending waves across the room, Quackity shot up and then instantly regretted it as his hangover struck him. He froze still as he noticed Wilbur underneath him, stirring from both the sound and movement. Quackity scrambled to turn off the alarm and get off his enemy, but lost his balance and fell straight off the bed.

“OW!” He yelped, then regretted the noise as he knew Wilbur was up for sure now.

Wilbur sat up, looking at the hungover man on the floor and laughed, not an obnoxious one, just enough to shake his shoulders. Quackity turned bright red, looking at how the sun hit his features perfectly though he'd deny it if Wilbur noticed.

“Don't laugh at me! This is your fault!” Quackity shrieked, trying to seem threatening but too flustered to come across as that.

Wilbur turned off the alarm and chuckled, rubbing his eyes and swinging his legs off the side of the bed.

“Is it though? I remember clearly yesterday you were going around drunk, and how's your hangover treating you?” Wilbur teased, coaxing Quackity for a reaction as the bird hybrid sat up straight.

“I'm completely fine!” He spat, “I do not need your help!” He tried standing up before falling and catching himself on his hands just before face planting.

“Okay, yep.. maybe I do need your help…” he said as he sat upright again.

“Thought so.”

“Stop being cocky!”

“I'm not, I'm just being honest, dear.”

“Don't call me that! b***h!”

Wilbur stood up, wrapping his arm around Quackity's waist to help him. Quackity squirmed for a second before huffing dramatically at the situation.

“Shut up..” Quackity said without even looking up, knowing Wilbur was most likely laughing silently at his misery.

“What! I haven't done anything…. Yet” Quackity turned red at the implication, his wings beating against Wilbur’s chest in a small rebellion.

“Okay Okay! I get it! Calm down.” Quackity rolled his eyes and clung tighter to Wilbur as he went dizzy due to his hangover. He buried his face in his shoulder, trying to block out the world as Wilbur smiled gently, trying to seem tough but failing as he enjoyed warmth. He found Quackity was warmer than normal people as his hybrid adaptations helped him with it. It sent a peaceful feeling through Wilbur. Quackity slumped against him and curled his wings neatly against his back. Wilbur again got mischievous and lent down, looping his arm around his legs and starting to bridal carry Quackity.

“Put me down! I was just starting to like you!”

Quackity repeatedly swore and insulted Wilbur, struggling again as Wilbur found glee in his torment.

“Birdie, Birdie, Birdie. This is just making it more amusing for me.” Wilbur grinned, his arms tightening around Quackity.

“Then put me down, you sadist!”

“Hm, No, I don’t want to anymore. This is fun”

He started bobbing Quackity, laughing at his death grip on his sweater.

“Wilbur! I swear on your f*****g life if you don't stop right now-” Quackity paused, wincing as his vision spins, though he yells again with about the same amount of force “I'm going to throw hands!!”

Wilbur finally obeyed, letting him down with a cackle, dropping his legs and watching Quackity adjust to being on the floor.

“Go on, baby, try. You're way too dizzy aren't you~?”

“Shut the f**k up, you ass.” Quackity blushed, his head wings twitching. He glared at the zombie as Wilbur's hand reached up and pinched his cheek, wiggling his hand to make Quackity's head move.

“Oh please, I can be worse and you know it, baby bird.”

“Shut up! Stop with the nicknames! We aren't friends!”

He turned away and crossed his arms over his chest. A bit pissy at Wilbur, though secretly wanting him to carry on. It made him feel… cared for. Wilbur moved his head back in front of Quackity's gaze, leaning down.

“Who said? You aren't trying to kill me. I think that's progress.”

“Shut up..”

“Is that all you have to say now? ‘Cause it's getting old”

“I- I still have more to say… just not to a idiotic zombie brain…” Quackity mumbled, not feeling as confident under Wilbur's gaze.

"An idiotic zombie brain?" Wilbur tilted his head with a sharp, slow grin.

"And here I thought you liked my mind, Quackity. You certainly spend enough time trying to figure it out.”

Quackity turned red, eyes widening slightly as Wilbur called him out. He steps back nervously, feeling small in the proximity.

Wilbur stands up fully, chuckling.

“Not so confident, are we now, love?” He closed the distance again and pushed him against the wall near his bed. He watched Quackity panic, but Wilbur didn't miss the brief beat where those beautiful eyes dropped to his lips before snapping back up.

“L-let me go, I don't like this.” His voice sounded weak, shaky. Like he was trying to convince himself

“Oh you like this just fine~”

Wilbur murmured, leaning in until his breath brushed Quackity's cheek. “After all, who was the one cooing into my hand last night, love?”

Quackity felt transparent to his scrutiny, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath. He was supposed to be indifferent, but instead, fate had him acting like a teenager trying to confess a crush.