Hope y'all enjoy ;) Bit of a shorter one but oh wellllll (get ready for chapter six teehee)
-
Foolish opened Quackity's door for you, and you were met with a scene that you would never in a hundred years expect.
Over the past month (give or take) of knowing him, you had learned a few things about him
One - he was prideful. From the second you met him, you could tell he didn't like losing or being proven wrong. You knew that he would go to great lengths to prove that he was either innocent or on the right side. It was obvious when he threatened to cut off your hand if you chose not to listen to his conditions on that first night in his office.
Two - he was impulsive. You learned that the morning after, when he admitted to you over a freshly brewed cup of coffee made by him that he didn't mean half of what he said the night before. He acted on emotion and a chance to instill fear in someone who wronged him and did so without thinking through.
The apology proved the third.
Three - he was kind. Down beneath the scarring and the obsessive gambling and capitalistic behaviours, he was a sweet person. He always asked how your days at work were when you started riding home on your own horse. He would invite you to eat in his master suite when he could, which is why the initial proposal didn't seem all too odd. The only thing that made it different was the setting.
You stepped inside the suite, glancing behind you as Foolish closed the door. You turned back around to take in the scenery.
It smelt delicious.
The food you two usually ate up in his suite was always food from the downstairs restaurant that patrons would eat at during their gambling charades. It was filled with a variety of food, from gourmet to fried. Quackity's suite was filled with a scent that you had never smelt before, and when you walked into view of the kitchen, you watched as Quackity poured two bowls of a homemade meal.
You smiled. "That smells delicious, Q."
Quackity looked up at you and smiled, putting the ladle down across the pot.
"Gumbo," he replied, taking off his apron and setting it on the counter. "My mom's recipe. It's like a super thick stew. I usually eat it with rice on top of it, like a layered dish. Do you want rice with yours?"
You nodded as you sat down at the set table, watching as he went over and scooped rice from another pot, setting it inside the bowls over the steaming meal. You looked down at the setting in front of you, at the two plates and the lit candle between them. There were two glasses with a bottle of Reisling beside them, uncorked and ready to be drunk.
Quackity set down the bowl in front of you and sat down with his own.
You smiled at him over the meal, feeling oddly giddy and positive about how this night would go despite the previous interaction with him at the front of the casino. You opened your mouth to speak, but he held up a hand.
"I'd like to apologize," he started, "for my-"
"Your childish behavior? How you and Wilbur bickered like children over a swingset?" You asked teasingly, watching as his face changed from regret to surprise. "Honestly, Quackity, I don't care. The only thing that I was worried about was that you were mad at me for going over there, but it's obvious now that you weren't worried and you were more protective of me. After hearing about what Wilbur has done in the past, I don't blame you."
Quackity blinked at you for a moment before chuckling and reaching out to grab the bottle, steadily pouring it into each of your glasses. "Maybe I should have forced you to be a detective instead of a prison guard, Y/n. You have quite the deductive skills."
"I just like to think I know you, Quackity. I just never knew you were a chef."
Quackity smiled, although this time, it seemed much more somber. "I'm not. This is just a recipe that's almost muscle memory. Was taught it when I was a kid and it's the only thing I've ever made when I make my own dinner," he told you, placing the bottle back down and sitting back down in his chair. "If you put a pan with anything else in front of me, it's getting burned immediately - except for simple shit, of course. My grilled cheese is one of the best ones on the server."
"I'll take your word for it," You smiled up at him before grabbing your spoon and taking a bite.
Delicious. You took another and nodded your approval, giving a small thumbs up.
"Chew, Y/n. I don't want you dying on me," Quackity laughed at you as you took another bite. "I don't want you to get a stomach ache, either. It looks like you're starving with the way you're eating."
You held back a small laugh and covered your mouth, swallowing your bite and washing it down with the drink he provided. "Thank you, Q. This is amazing," You complemented, setting your glass down and smiling over the setting. "Why the special dinner, though? We've never really done this... what makes tonight different?"
Quackity shrugged a bit as he finished his bite, swallowing and dabbing his mouth with a napkin. "Well, part of it was an apology. I felt bad that you got stuck in the crossfire of be and Wilbur's petty feud," he started, taking a sip of his drink while pondering his next words. He set the cup down with a clink before finishing his thought. "Second part of this is a celebration," he finished, a smug smirk curling on his lips.
You couldn't help but grin. "You got him?" you asked, his own grin matching yours.
Quackity nodded slowly and laughed. "I got him, Y/n. I got him."
Technoblade was trapped in Pandora's Vault. After all the anxieties that Quackity expressed to you, after the story of the Blood God ripping an iron pick-axe through his eye and mouth, he was finally locked away safe from his own bloody motives.
You let out a little cheer and clapped your hands. "How'd you do it?" You asked excitedly.
"Like I told you today, I got Dream to write a letter asking for his audience. Technoblade foolishly fell for it, and when he was close enough to the cell, Dream started screaming about how it was a trap. I thought I wore out his vocal cords ages ago - he didn't even scream when I did my usual to him on the last visit. But, nope. Techno was already on the bridge, though, so he couldn't come back, and we locked him in there. He's in there and never getting out. Stuck to rot in there forever, that fucking pig," Quackity chuckled satisfactorily, scooping up a bite of his gumbo.
You smiled. Seeing him like this made you happy. You never realized how tense he was before this. With one of his biggest enemies locked away in prison with his life in his hands, Quackity was more relaxed than ever.
It was beautiful.
Your cheeks flushed a bit at the realization and you took another bite like he did, chewing in happy silence with him for a moment. "So," you started once you had swallowed your bite, "are you gonna keep your promise and not visit Dream for a while?"
Quackity wiped his mouth with a napkin, nodding his head. "Yup. Gonna give him a month or so to stew with his roommate, with the one person he was depending on, and then I'll come back in and start pestering them for the book again. Maybe start roughing up Techno. What's he gonna do? He has no armor, no weapons, and he's stuck in there till one of us lets him out," he chuckled, taking the last bite of his soup and pushing the bowl into the middle of the table. "For now, you and I will rest, Y/n. You're free to loosen your schedule up a bit if you want - and hey! Maybe we could find a week to vacation or something. I heard that there's a nice motel some way out. It's on a beach and everything."
You smiled, putting your elbow on the table and your chin in the palm of your hand while you watched him stand and take your bowls. "The beach sounds nice, Q," You beamed up at him as he took the bowls to the sink. He came back and grabbed the riesling, holding it up.
"You want me to top yours off?" Quackity offered politely. When you shook your head, he nodded and put the cork back in, going back into the kitchen and placing it on the fridge. "Do you mind if I get changed real quick? You look comfy as hell in those sweats, and I'm tired of being all formal."
"Go for it. I can kill a couple minutes in here," you replied, giving him a little dorky thumbs up. He laughed in return before leaving, turning down the hallway and into his room.
You stood and stretched, looking around the dim room. The only lights were a couple lamps scattered around and a couple candles, but the sunset from the large window cast a pinkish-gold glow over the entire suite. You stepped down the two steps that lead into the living room and went to the record player that stood in the corner. After thumbing through the crate of records that sat beside it, you pulled out a record that read Billie Holiday and put it on, gently dropping the needle onto the disc. The music was pleasant - quiet jazz and piano accompanied by a nice voice. It was pretty and it fit the vibe of the sunset lit suite.
You turned away from the record player when you heard steps behind you, and your jaw dropped at the sight.
Quackity had wings.
Fucking wings.
They were stunning. A beautiful, liquid golden that glew with the setting sun. The tips of the feathers varied between a muddy brown and a dirty black. They looked ruffled and unsettled, but they were folded up as neatly as they could be at Quackity's lower back. They weren't the biggest, but... they were wings, all right. Duck wings. They looked like the golden yellow wings that ducklings would have.
Quackity noticed your blatant stare and smiled, turning and extending them towards you ever so slightly. "I guess you've never seen them, huh? I didn't think about that."
"They're gorgeous, Quackity," you breathed out, reaching out and gently brushing the feathers. You remembered holding onto him during your first horse ride to the prison and feeling a lump at his lower back - this must be what they were. "How come you never have them out?"
Quackity sat down on the couch in front of the window, patting the spot beside him for you to sit down. You obliged, letting him wrap an arm around your shoulders and feeling the slight fluff of the feathers down by your hip. It made you blush, the closeness - you two have always had instances like this, but this felt much more private and intimate, like the kiss on the hand had been. You decided to go with it and leaned against his side, crossing your legs.
"Billie Holiday then, huh?" Quackity asked, obviously trying to change the subject. You laughed and gave him a playful light jab in the ribs, making him giggle and squirm.
"Stop trying to change the subject. How come you never have your wings out?"
Quackity laughed a bit as he calmed down from the sudden tickle, his wings ruffling a bit beside you. His wing was gently tucked behind your hips. Again, they weren't big - it was like having a soft and feathery pillow behind you.
"Y'know that Schlatt guy I told you about?" Quackity started, the hand on your shoulder giving you a little pat as you nodded. "Well, he fucked up my wings pretty bad when I worked for him. Said I was molting and I needed help. They had just grown in and he was the only other animal hybrid I was close to, so I trusted him. They're only just now getting in better condition, and still, even now, I barely use 'em. Just better at riding horses, I guess, and I don't know how to use them that well."
You were quiet while he talked, watching him look at anywhere else but you. You couldn't tell from this side, but he almost looked sad.
"I still think they're beautiful, Alex. I'm serious," you told him softly, reaching up and tucking a strand of his dark hair behind his ear.
Quackity chuckled a bit and turned down to look at you. "Well, Y/n, I'm glad you like it," he hummed, his smile curling even more as you brushed his scarred cheek.
There was silence between the two of you, with nothing but the crackly and old record filling the comfortable space. The atmosphere was something you never wanted to leave. You knew that the sun would set and you would return to your room and wake up the next day to work at the prison, but just this once, you hoped time paused, for however long needed. You didn't want to leave - you couldn't leave.
"I don't ever want to leave this place, Quackity. It's good in here," you whispered, turning a bit and looking up at him to find him looking down at you, your noses inches away.
He must've had the same idea as you at this moment, because his other hand came around to gently tilt your chin up, and in the same moment, he leaned his head down and kissed you.
He kissed you.
It was just like you expected. It was soft. The hand on your chin slid back to cradle your jaw, his calloused hands gingerly pressed against your soft skin. The hand around your shoulders slid down to wrap around your waist to pull you closer, and you put your hand on his chest as the kiss went on.
This was another moment you could stay in forever, but he pulled away first, still staying close enough to where you could feel his breath on your lips. The hand on your jaw and waist felt like a pleasant burn, and you kept your eyes closed, afraid to open them and finally confirm this moment was over.
You felt him pull away even more, but instead of feeling him let go, you felt him press a soft kiss to your forehead.
"Breathe. Let out that breath of yours you've been holding."
You let out a long sigh, unable to help but think about the situation you were in when he said that to you for the first time.
"I'm glad I stayed here," you told Quackity, finally opening your eyes to look at the dark chocolate ones gazing back down at you. "Being with you right now is better than being back where I was."
Quackity smiled a bit, his thumb moving from your jaw to gently brush on your cheek.
"And I'm glad you cheated."