Work Text:
Quackity didn’t want to pretend that he wasn’t excited when Wilbur was coming for a meeting. While most of his meetings with Wilbur had been interrupted or thrown off course by Ranboo, Tubbo or Tommy, this time he had one-on-one availability with his business rival.
Of course, he had to keep his apathetic personality up around the residents of the SMP, especially around Wilbur. Wilbur should not feel like his presence was important to Quackity one bit, shit, the brunette’s ego was already larger than the tower that shot up from the centre of his country.
He pretended not to care even after countless nights of staying awake before the meeting, staring excitedly at the ceiling like it would make Wilbur rattle up the elevator to his office faster. He was always thinking about it, even if he didn’t like admitting it to himself.
Sometimes when you’re as traumatised as Quackity, all you can do is remember your past experiences. Some good, some horrific. Some pure and innocent, some sinful. It was only after his previous run-in with Wilbur and Ranboo that he had suddenly remembered Niki’s birthday party for some unknown reason.
He remembered that Wilbur had pulled him in for a rough and burning kiss while Karl had watched them, and left marks down his neck, and all Quackity did was let him at it and oblige.
“This isn’t a birthday party,” he whispered to himself at his desk, “it’s a business meeting.” His self persuasion simply had no effect, however, because his face was still warm and he felt his heart continue to race. The clock’s every tick seemed to go slow in time in comparison to the thumping of his heart, he felt almost sick from anticipation.
Quackity’s eyes glazed over the papers he had to go through with Wilbur in today’s meeting, although if everything went to plan they would remain hardly touched. It was absolutely filthy to be thinking about a business rival like this, but since Las Nevadas had been built he had replaced his morals with money.
He chuckled very slightly, air ruffling the papers at his desk. Since when had Alex Quackity never gotten what he wanted? Especially now that he had plenty of money and the discovered ability to manipulate people into getting what he felt like.
Wilbur was a little bit different. They both had their fair share of tricks to play, but Quackity knew he would fold like a pack of cards if Quackity even breathed in his direction. Leave Wilbur and Quackity in private, and you’re left with a couple of desperate and lonely tricksters who hadn’t been transparent in their lives.
In fact, Quackity didn’t even know why he longed to bring back Wilbur’s twisted fling with him, maybe out of desperation? That was probably it. If you focused too long, you could see all the imperfections on Wilbur’s blemished body and face anyway- not like Quackity focused on his body, it was merely an observation. When he had gotten revived, he seemed more like a warped zombie pigman than a human.
Quackity hated the trenchcoat he always wore too, it seemed to be the primary cause of Wilbur’s disgusting corpse scent. He wasn’t saying that like he really paid attention to the way Wilbur smelt either, that would be creepy, right?
He absolutely despised the smug smile that always plastered the older man’s rotting zombie face. It was a stupid grin and it reminded him of a weird and hungry shark. Quackity wanted to wipe that smile on his face and break the man. He deserved it.
Quackity didn’t like the way he talked. Wilbur sounded better when he was shut up. Not that Quackity ever imagined Wilbur being shut up, that’s so weird and totally a creep move. Quackity wasn’t a creep. Merely an observer. Totally.
A rumbling from below him disrupted his thinking. The rumbling of an elevator. Quackity pretended to be busy with his work, hunching over the pointless pile of papers like he actually cared about the printed text.
Blah blah, land rights, competition and business… his eyes scanned the paper for anything to focus on as the elevator rattled up the tower. Failure to comply with these terms will result in punishment.
His mind shouldn’t have darted to those places as quick as they did, but of course he couldn’t resist and now there was heat crawling up his neck and on his cheeks. Imagine if Wilbur walked in on him like that? He would be mortified.
Ding!
The elevator doors moved apart to reveal his esteemed guest and his companion Charlie, who had taken Wilbur up to the tower as a tourist guide. Wilbur’s hand shook off a blob of green slime, clearly he had complied with Charlie’s request and ‘dapped him up’.
It was getting a little difficult to breathe now. Wilbur seemed to be more enticing than ever, standing at six foot five and a look Quackity had never seen before. It reeked of confidence and something a little more obscure that Quackity couldn’t properly name. That same smug smirk was plastered on his face, however it seemed a little more sinister this time like he was planning something. Wilbur was always planning something.
“Here’s Wilbur from…” Charlie’s voice trailed off as he looked to Wilbur nervously.
The taller man laughed softly, “from L’Manburg, if you don’t mind.” The slime man nodded his head fervently, and a few droplets of goop sprinkled into the carpet and disappeared. Quackity glared at the little patches on the floor, he could deal with those later.
“Wilbur from L’Manburg. He didn’t remember where your office was so I took him, like you said I should!” Charlie looked proud of himself as his eyes focused on Quackity, and the man smiled impatiently, practically begging silently that the naive and nonhuman slime man could get out of his office. A light blush still stained his cheeks and it didn’t go away, especially with Wilbur in the room with him.
He wondered hopefully if Wilbur would notice.
Quackity nodded curtly, “great job. Please get out of my office.” He didn’t intend for his voice to sound so sharp, but he knew that Charlie didn’t really mind. He could see the man reach out a melting slime hand, but he simply ignored it and beckoned him with his eyes to the door. Charlie left as quickly as he had arrived.
Once the elevator began to churn down the tower again, it was almost instantaneous that Wilbur snapped his head around. Brown eyes locked with darker ones, before dropping to Quackity’s cheeks.
“Business meeting, huh.” Wilbur cocked an eyebrow skeptically, studying every slight movement on his rival’s face, the eyes turned down to the floor and the pink crawling up his neck like a disease.
Quackity only scoffed. “What do you mean by that, Wilbur?”
He cursed himself for being so damn nervous all the time. He was meant to be the one making Wilbur flushed, but now he was sitting here getting nervous just by Wilbur raising a goddamn eyebrow.
Wilbur let the silence brew gently for a moment before continuing. It was so fucking tense it was like the whole office was filled with honey. Sickly sweet and horribly suffocating.
“You know exactly what I mean, Quackity.” he murmured in that quiet voice which he knew did things to Quackity, it was soft and deep and made his heart skip a beat, and suddenly all and any idea he had of showing his power vanished from his mind.
Quackity’s eyes darted from up to Wilbur’s eyes and immediately back to the floor, although he realised it might come across as him checking Wilbur out, “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I- I- I,” Wilbur mocked, his hands now resting on Quackity’s desk, “don’t play stupid, ducky.”
Quackity looked incredulous, now he was starting to get pissed. Ducky? What did he look like, five?
He pored over Wilbur’s face, looking for any sign of the plot Wilbur clearly was set on. The light of the sun behind him washed over the taller man’s face perfectly, making him look- focus, Alex. But alas, he had a good poker face, which would be good for a casino based nation. Without hesitation he sat down at his desk, ignoring the man practically towering over him with that stupid ass smirk.
He looked up at his rival. “Are you gonna sit down, or what?”
Wilbur cautiously took a seat at the chair opposite the side of the desk he was sitting at, they were now forced to look at each other to figure out this ‘business meeting’.
He grabbed a handful of papers, starting with page one. “We can just go through this page by page, huh?” his voice was condescending, but he knew that would make Wilbur mad. Wilbur was hot when he was mad, anyway, so the more aggravating Quackity behaved the better.
“Sounds great.” Wilbur’s voice was monotone, a sure-fire way to tell he was getting irritated by Quackity’s mockery. Brilliant.
Quackity sighed, looking up from the papers to see two burning brown eyes staring back at him like daggers. He flinched a little at the death glare Wilbur was shooting at him, annoyed by the fact Quackity was just doing business as usual.
“I don’t know why I’m doing this with you, to be truthful,” Quackity adjusted the papers in his hands, his eyes never leaving Wilburs’, “I hate you.”
It was then that the venomous look seemed to fade as Wilbur’s eyes lit up. Did he have a thing for being degraded, or what?
“Oh yeah?” his voice was taunting, like he was egging Quackity on for some reason, maybe he did have a thing for that, “what’s all the things you hate about me?”
He was confused. Why was Wilbur asking him this? For some sort of way to get off on it? Surely he wasn’t that desperate, to be fair he was so desperate he fucked a salmon-
This time he was the one who raised the skeptical eyebrow, “what?”
“Come on, tell me,” his voice was low and he leaned over the desk, “I’m sure I could prove them wrong, one by fucking one.” So he wanted a challenge. This is exactly what Quackity wanted anyway, but he didn’t really expect it to happen like this. What would happen now?
He laughed pitifully, “I didn’t expect you to be that desperate, Wilbur. But only if you insist,” he placed the papers down on the desk, leaning over so that their faces weren’t too far from each other, “I hate your trench coat. It smells like shit.”
“You want me to take it off?” Wilbur said, watching as Quackity nodded. With toned arms he threw it behind him to reveal a yellow shirt formed around a slim body. Oh my god. Quackity tried to avoid the rushing thoughts from his head to his heart but it happened all too fast and he felt hot in the face, gulping away the tightness in his throat.
“Look at you,” Wilbur taunted, his voice all raspy like he had just crawled out of his grave again, “all worked up just because I took off my fucking coat. Is that really all it takes to make you crazy, ducky? I could see the blush on your fucking face since I walked in, pretty boy. You look cute when you’re flustered.” the words spilled out of his mouth like toxic gas, filling his lungs and making Quackity feel weak in the knees, oh my GOD.
The tension only continued to rise as Wilbur triumphantly grinned like a shark, Quackity felt his intestines turn to nothing more than jelly. He was hyper-aware of the way Wilbur was looking at him right now, it was making him go crazy and he was this close to just letting Wilbur pin him to the nearest wall.
“Point proven.” is all he could manage to shudder out, still in a mixture of shock and want, he wanted Wilbur and wanted him now.
“Anything else?” the brunette practically begged, his voice all breathy and low and oh my god it was so hot. He knew exactly what he was doing, too, it was sick of him to be doing this when he was meant to be sorting out business papers with his rival.
He paused in thought, “and you have an irritating voice.” What a lie. He could have listened to the desperation in his voice forever, especially the way it went raspy.
“I know you don’t believe that,” his voice was serious now, but still so fucking attractive, “I can tell when a boy like you tells a lie, especially such a sweet boy as yourself.”
“You’re doing things to me,” the words slipped out of his mouth, thoughts turning into words. Fuck, he said that out loud. On one hand, he felt stupid now, but also he was grateful for saying it because it seemed to be having an effect on Wilbur, too. Even if it was an accident.
Even Wilbur couldn’t hide the way his face flushed, even if it was only for a moment, and Quackity relished the way he hid his face by turning to the side. It would be adorable if it was anyone but Wilbur, but for Quackity it felt like a triumph over his rival.
“I thought you found my voice irritating, ” the last word dripped with playful venom, “but look at you now. You’re getting all worked up and it’s only been what? Ten minutes?”
It was almost too much for Quackity to handle, he felt the heat consume his body like he was being cooked over a fire and ready for Wilbur to devour at any moment.
“Come on, Quackity, I know you’re enjoying this,” Wilbur laughed as his eyes raised to Quackity, who had now fixated on the paper in an effort to stop the plague of blush that had refused to leave his face, “so please, I insist, please continue.”
He knew he could keep going and have Wilbur twist it into some mess of words that would totally and absolutely ruin him, this was all him now and he could take advantage of it. He tried to scan through his mess of broken thoughts for something Wilbur could twist into their advantage to continue this little scheme.
“I hate your stupid smile,” now he was being quiet, “I hate how smug it is.”
He leaned over the desk, they were so close now they would have touched if Wilbur just shuffled his chair forward a little. The paperwork they were meant to be poring over was now discarded to the side as Wilbur leered in Quackity’s face like the devil.
He smiled like a Cheshire cat, “stop being so easy to rile up then, ducky.”
Silence boiled over as Quackity tried and failed to respond, before Wilbur continued for him.
“Actually, keep it like that. Did anyone ever tell you how fucking hot you look when you’re all dazed and flustered like that, ducky? I could just take you right now, did you know that?” His voice was so deep and raspy and it made him want so much more. He knew it was coming to a boiling point now and the flirting and deep stares were far too much for just sitting at the desk.
Quackity sighed into Wilbur, “Please.” it was more of a whine than anything, which was embarrassing, but Wilbur savoured the sound.
“Please what, ducky?” a pink tongue licked pretty pink lips, “tell me that you need me.”
The very words sent sick shivers of pleasure down his spine, and in a swift movement he felt two strong hands grip his red suspenders and pull them together. It felt so vile to be doing this while the big window was showing them to the world, and now he could feel Wilbur’s lips grazing his ear.
“I’m waiting.”
All he could do was nod shakily, paralysed by the complete capture this man apparently had on him.
Wilbur smiled, he could practically feel it in his peripherals. “I want to hear you say it, Quackity.”
A moment of silence made the world seemed suspended in time, everything going slow motion. Was he really about to do this? He couldn’t say no to such a good offer.
“I need you,” he pleaded out, and he was surprised by the neediness in his own voice, it was begging and Wilbur knew it.
He laughed softly, “and how could I decline someone so gorgeous?” He peered down at Quackity’s lips, and pulled one of his hands off the tight grip he had on Quackity’s suspenders, ghosting over his neck and settling to brush a thumb over Quackity’s bottom lip.
“Has anyone ever told you how perfect your lips are? Even through rivalry I can only imagine how they would look calling out my name,” Wilbur whispered, like this was a sick fantasy he’s had for the longest time. Quackity trembled.
It was only instinct that their lips connected, really. Wilbur and Quackity were like a fire to a wick, a bullet to a gun, a cigarette to the lips of a smoker, so horrible and vile but meant to be in the most terrible way. Wilbur ran his hands up to Quackity’s beanie, pulling the damn thing off his head and grabbing locks of ebony hair. He didn’t ask if Quackity liked the pain or not. He knew he did.
Quackity sighed into his mouth at the sensation, this was so fucking good he couldn’t take it. He pulled away for air, with a desperate plead, “Wilbur, please.”
“What happened to every way you hated me? Now look at you.” Wilbur smirked, his eyes running up and down the panting man at the desk, “you know everyone can see you, right? They can all see how much of a whore you are for the man you hate the most.”
Quackity honestly didn’t care. He wanted Wilbur’s hands in his hair and around his neck, pinning him to that damn window so everyone could see it.
“How about I just push you up against that damn window so everyone can see what a fucking bitch you are,” Wilbur laughed from deep in his throat, his chuckle rising up like boiling water, almost reading Quackity’s mind.
The ravenette raised his eyebrows, is that a challenge?
It was so sudden that he hardly processed it. Wilbur stood up with no hesitation and now he was being pulled by the collar of his dress shirt and slammed so hard against the window that he was unsure what would break first; his ribs or the glass. It felt so good to just be completely swallowed by Wilbur’s flames- it was burning him up.
“Is this what you wanted? To be my bitch in front of your own fucking nation,” Wilbur taunted, but yet he still complied in slipping a hand to untucking Quackity’s dress shirt. Even then, he still managed to connect his lips to Quackity’s once again, their kisses wild and desperate because they were desperate for only each other. Quackity bit Wilbur’s bottom lip until the familiar taste of iron blood tainted his mouth.
Wilbur moved the hand he had clenched on Quackity’s shirt and moved it back to his hair, pulling on raven locks and feeling his rival whine into his mouth.
Now his other hand was brushing lightly over Quackity’s stomach which was hard from building a country, he felt the other boy shudder in his grip. He knew that eyes were probably on them right now, but he didn’t care. Now everyone in this nation could know who the real leader was.
“You like that?” is all he could whisper harshly into the shorter boy’s ear. He moved his lips down to Quackity’s neck, his other hand now trailing down his back. Just leave a few marks and let Quackity try to explain them away. Now that would be funny.
Quackity sighed and rolled his head to face the ceiling in pleasure, “Wilbur, oh my god-”
“I’m your fucking god now, ducky.” he leered, before trailing the hand the hand that had been tracing lines down Quackity’s back to get a grip on the other side of his waist.
He pulled away from Quackity’s neck and admired the purple marks, and he knew Quackity would come to appreciate them at some point later when he would have to face his nation.
“Wilbur, fuck…” is all the shorter boy could groan, his hands wrapped around Wilbur’s neck.
“That’s for later,” Wilbur teased, making Quackity go bright red, and forcing a chuckle out of Wilbur.
He pulled away from Quackity’s neck. “I have to go.”
“What?” Quackity looked at the other man, incredulous and mostly disappointed, “why?”
“I have priorities. It was fun seeing you squirm, though.” Wilbur removed his hands from Quackity’s waist, and the shaking boy fell to the ground.
“You’re pathetic.” Wilbur scoffed. “It was nice doing business with you, Ducky. I’m free anytime.”
The elevator doors opened and as quick as he had arrived, Wilbur was gone.
I’m free anytime.