Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“So. What's it gonna be?” 

Quackity looked up at Wilbur, revived and looking down at him like he had much better things to be doing. They couldn’t be in a worse situation, standing in the middle of what used to be L’manburg, glass barrier beneath their feet, stopping them from falling to their deaths. Why had he come to Wilbur of all people? He didn’t have the book. Dream did. So why had Quackity tracked him down to ask him to revive Schlatt so the ghost would stop pestering him about the whole book situation? 

“Are you gonna answer me or do you want me to walk away. You’re not getting another chance after this.” Wilbur said, crossing his arms, and Quackity understood where he was coming from, but he’d never thought that Wilbur would help him for the price of becoming some form of friend with benefits and nothing else. He’d tried to negotiate some other terms, but Wilbur refused to hear anything else out, though Quackity did appreciate the fact that the brunet was giving him an out, even if it wouldn’t benefit either one of them in the end. 

“Well, give me more specifics first. What’s the reason behind this and is it just like, free use sex?” Quackity replied, waving a hand to tell Wilbur to get on with it. Wilbur popped one hip out and started talking, a slight grin on his face. “I’m not gonna kiss you or stick it in you without consent, since I know you’re kind of iffy with your fiancé’s at the moment, if they’re still even that, not including Schlatt himself. I’m down for hand jobs, blow jobs, thigh fucks, and I’m also not going to leave you high and dry. Agree and you’re also signing up for me to be over your shoulder probably half the time. I have nothing to do and frankly, Las Nevadas interests me. You interest me.”

“So basically a clingy boyfriend.” Quackity stated, turning the idea over in his head. Wilbur shot him a somewhat bitter look, but Quackity chalked it up to embarrassment that he’d nailed his observation. 

“Okay, so what if I’m ‘clingy’, I wanna see how you deal with running a country,” Wilbur then grinned, a mischievous look on his face. “And maybe I’m interested in you in more than one way.” 

“Yeah? I accept your offer, but it’s gonna be more than random hook ups.”

“Of course.” Wilbur nodded once, then looked around them. The moon was high in the sky, the two having met in almost the middle of the night, and when Wilbur looked back at Quackity, the shorter didn’t trust the look in his eyes. “What are you thinking?” He asked slowly, and Wilbur made a huffing noise that sounded rather like a scoff. “I’m thinking you start pulling through with your side of the deal right now, and then right away in the morning I’ll help you with what you need.” 

“Will, I don’t know if you noticed, but we are in the middle of a public place. Outside, no less.”

“I have noticed, Quackity, thank you for pointing that out,” Wilbur said, stepping towards Quackity. “And frankly, I don’t give a shit.” His voice dipped into a lower, familiar octave, the one that he’d use when ordering people around, so Quackity knew that he was for some shit right about now, and before Quackity knew what was fully going on, Wilbur’s hand was in his hair and he was tugging Quackity toward him until his lips were right next to his ear. “No one comes here anymore, so I don’t see the problem with you getting down on your knees right here, right now.” He growled, and Quackity shuddered, considering putting up a little bit of a fight before deciding against it and just going along, not wanting to see how Wilbur got when he got too pissed off. He waited for Wilbur to loosen his grip before he slid down to his knees. “If we get caught, I’m gonna fucking kill you.” 

Wilbur just chuckled, then sighed out through his nose as Quackity tugged at his belt, eventually ripping the thing off and tossing it to the ground. He then unzipped the others pants, tugging them down enough to see the outline of his dick. 

Keeping his hands on the brunet’s thighs as if for balance, Quackity leaned forwards, hesitant only because he didn’t know what to do in this situation. Sure, he’d had sex before, but not in the middle of a very open place. 

Parting his lips slightly, Quackity mouthed Wilbur’s clothed length, rubbing his tongue along the fabric of his boxers, creating a dark spot with saliva and hating how dry the action made his mouth feel. It wasn’t long before he felt the cock in his mouth beginning to get hard, and wondered how long it had been since the bastard had actually relieved any stress if he was getting aroused from just this halfassed teasing. 

Not even five seconds later, Wilbur let out a breathy moan, hips twitching forwards. “Y— You're teasing too much.. fuckin get on with it.” He mumbled. “Do you want me to stop? Because I can fucking stop.” Quackity snapped in response, looking up at the brunet with a halfhearted glare. Wilbur returned his glare with as much, but probably more, malice, and his hands moved to grab a fistful of Quackity’s hair as well as the waistband of his boxers. “Don’t talk to me like that, fucking prick, I’m in charge here.” He growled. 

“Maybe you were,” Quackity snapped back. “But you’re working in my country, bitch.” 

Wilbur's grip on his hair tightened at that, enough that a pained whimper slid past Quackity’s lips. “We’re not in Las Nevadas, now, are we? No, we’re in my country now, and maybe I did blow it up,” snarled Wilbur, the hand on his underwear pulling the garment down so that his member popped out to hit Quackity’s cheek. “But it’s still mine, I’m the boss, so right now, you’re either going to suck me off yourself or I’m going to fuck your throat with no fucking mercy!” With each word, Wilbur’s hand somehow managed to tug on Quackity’s hair even harder, and in turn, he dug his nails into Wilbur’s thighs, shaking the hand off of his skull so that he could move his head more freely. 

Quackity fought the urge to cuss out Wilbur once more, but ultimately kept himself quiet and took the head of his erection into his mouth without further resistance, slowly taking more in until he physically couldn’t. Wilbur groaned and thankfully let go of Quackity’s hair, but still kept his hand resting on the top of his head, lightly guiding him as he started bobbing his head up and down. 

“God.. fuck..” Wilbur then groaned, rather loudly, but Quackity held back from telling him to be quiet. He knew deep down that Wilbur had been right earlier, no one really came around here anymore, so why should he care how loud he was moaning? 

Quackity then began to speed up his movements, dragging his tongue across the slit every time he pulled back, spit and precum spilling from the corners of his lips. Wilbur’s eyes were squeezed shut, and at some point he’d begun sinking his teeth into one fist to muffle the sounds that he was making, but doing a horrible job. 

Then, Wilbur’s hand fell away from his face, and the hand on Quackity’s head twitched, like he wanted to grab his hair again but decided against it. “G— Gonna cum..! Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” He gasped, and then he did grab Quackity’s hair, as well as start thrusting into his mouth, ignoring the way that Quackity clawed at his thighs. It was taking everything in the shorter to remember to breathe, and he forced himself to relax, letting Wilbur use him to get off until he felt him release in the back of his throat, letting out a loud, shaky keen of pleasure. 

Beneath Quackity’s hands, he felt Wilbur wobble on his feet, and eventually slowed his motions, but never let go of Quackity’s hair. “Keep sucking..” He ordered, and Quackity, after a moment, complied, though and a slower pace, continuing to bob his head up and down and occasionally swirling his tongue around the others tip, picking up remaining drops of semen and forcing himself to swallow, shuddering at the salty taste as the mouthful went down his throat. 

By now, Wilbur was a shaky, whimpering, mess, seeming like he was somewhere between begging Quackity to stop and begging for him to go faster with small cries of, “Fuck.. so fucking— god, don’t stop, keep— keep going~!” and “Faster, do it faster—!” and “Slow down… i— it hurts, slow down..” 

At this point in time, Quackity too had also grown rather uncomfortably erect, and now he finally allowed himself the opportunity to let go of Wilbur with one hand to palm himself. Wilbur noticed the action immediately, and Quackity wanted to bite him when he saw the smirk that grew on his face, but the thoughts of doing anything at all were immediately forgotten when Wilbur stepped forwards with one foot and pressed the ball of his boot against the tent in his pants. 

Quackity jolted at the sensation of Wilbur essentially stepping on him, a surprised gasp escaping around the brunet’s dick as his body twitched forwards, hands grabbing onto Wilbur’s pants, automatically tipping his head forwards just a little bit, hips involuntarily bucking against the pressure on his groin. 

“Feels good?” Wilbur chuckled, and Quackity did his best to avert his gaze, but Wilbur clenched a fistful of hair within his hand, and the pain brought Quackity back. He shot a glare at Wilbur, who in turn ground his foot down harder and started forcing his head back and forth once again. “Keep. Sucking.” He growled, and Quackity complied, fighting back an annoyed eye roll. 

This time, he was less merciless, and moved with the speed that he had minutes prior, as if trying to speedrun sucking another orgasm out of the man before him. Wilbur gasped at the sudden change of pace, that being followed by a rather high pitched moan, vaguely pained, but Quackity didn’t stop, determined to make him cum again, all the while bucking his hips against Wilbur’s boot as he too grew close to his climax. 

Soon, both of them were nearly rabidly gasping for breath, Wilbur’s brain seemingly having gone on vacation as his head was tipped back, eyes rolled back in his skull, soundless moans escaping his lips. Before long, he was loudly whining again, damn near screaming, and then, without warning, Wilbur siezed up, head pitching forwards as he came again, more of his load shooting into the back of Quackity’s mouth. 

After a brief pause in which Wilbur caught his breath, he started moving his foot in slow circles, pulling out of Quackity’s mouth to allow him to breathe as well, a moan slipping past his lips as soon as his mouth was free. 

But then, almost instantly afterwards, Wilbur pulled away completely, and Quackity was about to snap at him to finish what he started before Wilbur too was down on his knees and shoving Quackity onto his back, head hitting the glass floor with a resounding thud . 

“What the fuck—?!” Quackity started, but trailed off when Wilbur’s hand was around his clothed erection and he started palming him, grinding his palm down and then curling his fingers around the bulge and stroking for a moment before repeating the motion, faster and harder, faster and harder until Quackity was a moaning, gasping mess, hands aimlessly groping for something to grab onto as he neared his own climax. 

“Oh fuck I’m cumming—! I’m cumming, don’t stop!” He suddenly gasped, and then his back was arching off of the ground and a hand was being slapped over his own mouth as he tried to hold back the loud force of his orgasm as he came in his pants, a dark, slick spot quickly spreading from the tent. 

A short moment later, Wilbur sat back, crossing his legs as he waited for Quackity to also sit up, silently cursing under his breath. 

“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.” Wilbur said cheekily, rising to his feet. 

“Fuck you.” Quackity retorted.

Wilbur just chuckled before he began to walk off, form quickly being lost in the dark surroundings. Quackity didn’t pay him a second thought. He needed to get home and clean up.

Chapter Text

As Quackity walked through the streets of Las Nevadas, there was a suspicious lack of people around. Sure, it was a big place, but he was always seeing someone or other out and about, whether it be Sam or Foolish going off to do something or Wilbur slinking about in the shadows of buildings. 

Speaking of Wilbur, he’d been surprisingly absent in Quackity’s day to day life. He was still pulling through with the arrangement they’d made a couple of weeks ago already, but he would only show up at the most conveniently inconvenient times, like when Quackity had to discuss a big plan with everyone or when Quackity was going out on important business. Of course, Quackity knew that he was always around, following him like a stray dog, but he always managed to be annoyingly out of sight. 

Now, as Quackity had nothing planned for the next few days (besides visiting Dream, but he supposed he didn’t need to do that anymore as he no longer needed the book), he began walking towards one of the taller buildings of the country, a hotel, a casino taking up the majority of the bottom floor. 

When he entered, he was immediately met with the sounds of machines trilling and flashing lights. When he was halfway to the stairwell, he heard the door open and close again, and, knowing it was Wilbur, tried to appear unphased as he started trotting up to a higher floor, jumping up the stairs and skipping every other one. 

“You gonna keep running away from me or can I talk to you like a normal person?” Wilbur suddenly called out, and Quackity paused, only for a moment, before he kept going, Wilbur following him. “What do you want?” Quackity called back. 

“I just said I wanted to talk to you.” Wilbur said, annoyed, and Quackity rolled his eyes to himself. “You just want to get in my pants.” 

“I don’t want to get in them, but essentially, yes.” Wilbur retorted, and Quackity bit back a scoff, not responding as he walked out onto a random floor.

“Answer me, Quackity, we may have brought him back but we still have a deal.”

“Does it really matter? You haven’t talked to me in weeks besides butting into conversations where you weren’t wanted in the first pla—!”

Before Quackity had been able to finish talking, Wilbur suddenly dashed forwards and grabbed him, hauling him into the nearest room, throwing the shorter inside and slamming the door, not caring when the other toppled to the ground. “Look, you fucker, I helped you bring back your dead husband, without the help of that book! You think one little favor is enough to repay that? Because it’s not. Either you hold up your end of it for however long we decide, or, and believe me when I say this, I can and will kill him again.” Wilbur barked, and Quackity’s scowl deepened with every word that he spat out. 

“You think I really ca—?”

“Oh, shut up, I know you care. You still love him don’t you, that’s why you wanted him back. Not because he was pestering you, but because you thrive off of attention, you need it to fucking survive, so when Karl, Sapnap, and George ran off to start their own country—“

“Shut up!”

“—and left you in the dust, you couldn’t handle it, so here we fucking are, two revived dead people, a shitty fucking deal, and a little fucking bitch that can’t operate without feeling special!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Quackity shouted, jumping up from where he’d fallen. In a movement too fast for Wilbur to block, Quackity stepped towards him and raised a hand to slap the brunet across the face, a loud slap sound resounding in the now quiet room. 

There was a moment’s pause, and then Wilbur lunged forwards and grabbed onto Quackity’s arms, one forearm in each hand, and backed him up until he was falling back onto the room’s singular bed. “You're just mad because I’m telling the truth.” Wilbur hissed, leaning forwards until his face was mere centimeters away from Quackity’s, who was too busy trying to squirm out of Wilbur’s grip to pay attention to what he was saying. “Look at me.” Wilbur snapped, and when Quackity didn’t oblige and instead just forcefully turned his head to the side, Wilbur released one arm to grab his chin, twisting his head forwards again. “Look. At. Me.” He said. 

Quackity finally met Wilbur’s gaze, brown depths burning a hole into his own eyes, but Quackity forced himself to not look away, not even blinking until he absolutely had too. Then, Wilbur’s eyes flicked away from Quackity’s and trailed down his face, settled on his mouth, which was twisted into a grimace, teeth clenched in annoyance. “You’ve got perfect cock sucking lips, anyone ever tell you that?” 

“Fuck—“

“That all you can ever say? ‘Shut up’ ‘fuck you’ ‘fuck off’? Say something else, why don’t you?” Wilbur enunciated his last question with a small shake to Quackity’s chin, so the groan that he let out was shaky. Wilbur smirked. “I could fuck you up. I really could, Quackity. Bet I could make you beg and fucking cry.” 

Quackity glared at Wilbur, and if looks could kill, well, both of them would be dead by now. He didn’t reply, and was practically shaking with anger, but his cheeks were tinted red. Of course, Wilbur noticed this, and his smirk just grew. 

“Bet I can make you scream for me..” Wilbur added in a lower tone, and Quackity scoffed. “Then why don’t you try, pretty boy?” 

Wilbur’s smirk evolved into a smug looking grin. “Are you giving me consent to fuck you?” He asked, and Quackity’s face turned even redder. “Are you gonna make me say—“

“Of course I’m gonna make you say it, now say it or I’m walking out right now.”

“Fine, I want you to fuck me, happy?” Quackity snapped, eyes closing so he wouldn’t have to look at Wilbur’s expression. “Very.” The brunet replied, and Quackity fought the urge to grumble, “I hate you.” But before he would have even gotten the chance, Wilbur pulled away from him and grabbed onto his hips, forcefully tugging him up so that his ass was pressed against Wilbur’s hips, Wilbur on his knees and causing Quackity’s shoulders to be pressed down into the mattress beneath them by his own body weight. 

Wilbur then started undoing his pants, throwing Quackity’s belt to the floor and hastily unbuttoning his jeans, tugging them off with enough force to pull Quackity another few inches up his torso. Now, left just in his boxers and shirt, Quackity attempted to reposition himself, but Wilbur’s grip was tight on him, preventing him from moving. 

Then, as Quackity was about to protest the position that they were in, one of Wilbur’s hands trailed down to hold onto his waist, and with the other, the brunet pulled the other’s still soft dick out of the slit in his boxers, wasting no time in putting it in his mouth and tipping his head down until his nose rested against Quackity’s pelvis, bangs falling down to hide his face. 

“Ohh— fuck..” Quackity mumbled, unable to tear his gaze away from Wilbur, who was now bobbing his head up and down, running his tongue along the underside of the man’s length, every once in a while attempting to push his hair out of the way. 

It wasn’t too long before Quackity was fully hard, trying in vain to hold back his pleasured moans. Wilbur was surprisingly good at this, and if he kept this up, Quackity was going to cum before Wilbur actually did anything else. “Stop.. I’m gonna cum…” He muttered, eyes drifting shut, and Wilbur chuckled around his cock. “Already?” He teased. Quackity just grumbled and reached up to halfheartedly shove his head up, and Wilbur looked back up with a cheeky smirk before pulling off the other’s boxers, and moving his legs around so that they were strung over Wilbur’s shoulders. Then, he raised one hand, spat on his fingers and spread the saliva around before ducking back down and taking Quackity’s cock back in his mouth. 

While he was distracted by the sensation of Wilbur’s mouth, hot around his member, Quackity didn’t notice one of the brunet’s fingers resting near his ass until one was pushed inside of him and he jolted up, surprised, before forcefully falling back down again, unable to sit up since his entire lower half was being held above his top half. 

“If you want me to stop, just tell me to stop.” Wilbur said, and then started moving, slowly pulling the finger almost all of the way out before pushing back inside, eventually adding a second digit before he began to curl them, searching for Quackity’s prostate, all the while still sucking him off. 

It was obvious when Wilbur found that spot, because Quackity jolted up again, back arching with a curt but loud moan. “Fuck! Holy fuck!” He gasped, squeezing his eyes shut, and Wilbur suppressed a small chuckle and just kept doing what he’d been doing, then adding a third finger and basking in the poorly retained whimpers and moans from the man below him. 

Finally, Wilbur let him go, and Quackity fell so that he was finally fully laying down on the bed, and he watched as Wilbur unbuckled his own pants, impatiently tugging them off and throwing them to the floor with Quackity’s, underwear quickly following, erection popping up to hit his stomach as he moved to kneel over Quackity. “You don’t happen to have a condom on you, right?” He asked. Quackity shook his head, surprised when a laugh slipped out of him. “You think I just walk with condoms on me? I don’t, Will, just pull out or something before you cum.” Wilbur nodded, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. 

Wilbur’s hands fell to Quackity’s legs and rather gently spread them as he lined himself up, looking up at Quackity once for a last minute nod of consent before he slid in, the two of them gasping at the sensation. 

“Fuck,” Wilbur huffed. “You’re so tight..” Quackity groaned, tipping his head to the side. “I’m sorry I haven’t been having a ton of anal sex recently Wilbur, next time I’ll make sure I’m not strangling you.” He sarcastically grumbled, and Wilbur huffed. “No, no, I don’t care— you feel fucking great.” He replied. Quackity just scoffed and mumbled a small, “Whatever.” before Wilbur began moving, and anything else he was going to say was cut off as a moan was dragged out of him. 

Gradually increasing the pace of his thrusts until the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the room, it wasn’t long before Wilbur had Quackity as a hot mess below him, hands gripping the sheets, head lolling from side to side as any and all coherent thoughts left him. 

After a moment, Wilbur shifted positions slightly, not much, but enough to suddenly ram into Quackity’s prostate, and he hesitated for a moment when the man in question practically screamed, worried that he’d hurt him, but continued after Quackity’s hurried gasps of, “Don’t stop! Please don’t stop! Right there! Right there’s so good!” 

“Yeah?” Wilbur huffed, voice practically a growl. “That feel good? You like my cock inside you?” 

“Ahh~ uh huh—! So good, I love it!” Quackity moaned, voice bordering being drunkenly slurred. Wilbur sped up, roughly bucking his hips into Quackity with no abandon, fucking into him until his entire body was shaking and tears were brimming in his eyes. 

But then of course the mood had to be ruined by the dreadful sound of the door to the room opening, and a painfully familiar voice asking, “What the fuck is going on here?”

Chapter Text

The two on the bed froze, Quackity’s eyes shooting open to see none other than Schlatt leaning against the doorframe, staring directly at them. Wilbur was stiller than a statue, no doubt thinking that he was about to be murdered, but Schlatt just stepped in and closed the door, this time locking it. “Is someone going to answer me or do I just assume that this is your guys’ new thing that’s going on?” 

“No! No, there’s nothing going on!” Quackity exclaimed, snapping out of his stupor and sitting up so abruptly that he smacked his forehead against Wilbur’s, both of them shouting out a pained exclamation before Quackity scrabbled away from the brunet, quickly moving to cover himself with a pillow. “I could hear you two fucking from the floor below this one, I’d be surprised if there’s nothing going on.” Schlatt deadpanned, suspiciously unphased by all of this. 

“Well,” Wilbur huffed. “There’s something, but not what you’re thinking.” 

“Yeah, I’m not cheating on you.” Quackity hurriedly cut in. Schlatt rolled his eyes. “He’s balls deep in you and you’re crying about how much you love it, that doesn’t seem—“

“No! I mean we made a goddamn deal a few weeks ago or whatever,” Quackity snapped. “He helps me bring you back to life and I hook up with him however many times for however long he wants! And okay, maybe I did ask you to fuck me, I still fucking hate you!” He shouted, now turning to Wilbur, who rolled his eyes, previous annoyance returning in full. “Oh shut the fuck up, you whiny little brat! What did we talk about earlier? You fucking need me to keep living!”

“I will kill you, Wilbur Soot!” Quackity shot back, and Wilbur rolled his eyes again. “Yeah? Fucking do it, then! You gonna take your anger out on me since you can’t get your daily dose of attention anymore?”

“Boys, Jesus Christ, calm the fuck down.” Schlatt interrupted, waving his hands to get their attention. “We’re gonna talk about this afterwards, but you seemed like you were getting into it, so why don’t you just finish what you were doing?” 

Neither Wilbur nor Quackity moved a muscle, maybe waiting for either Schlatt to leave or to receive further instructions. Eventually, Wilbur just asked. “Are you staying here or what?” 

“Precisely.” Schlatt stated, providing no further explanation as he walked around to the other side of the room and sat down on the edge of the bed, sidling up next to Quackity before grabbing the pillow on his lap and tossing it to the floor, then reaching forwards to grab the collar of Wilbur’s shirt and pull him closer. “I really don’t care what you do, Soot, you have my full permission to do whatever you want to him.”

Wilbur, taking the hint, grabbed Quackity’s legs again, shuffling closer until their groins were pressed together again. “W— Wait—“ Quackity muttered, face swiftly flushing bright red, but Wilbur paid him no mind and began to push in again. “I told you tell me to stop if you actually want me to stop.” He whispered, and then began thrusting again, pace immediately rising to the intensity of before they’d been interrupted. 

This time, it was obvious that Quackity was purposefully holding back moans, and less than a minute had passed before he felt one of Schlatt’s hands on his chin, grip tight. “Come on, you were so vocal before, why stop now?” He taunted, but Quackity just jerked his chin out of the man’s hand, the action being met with a disappointed click of Schlatt’s tongue before he grabbed at him again, this time digging his nails into the skin of his jaw, earning a cry in response that was somewhere between being a moan of pleasure and a pained whine. 

“You can do that again, yeah? Fucking moan for us, you brat.” Wilbur growled, and Quackity closed his eyes, attempting to throw his entire sense of pride out of the window, but being unsuccessful. “Look at me.” Wilbur then said, and that, Quackity could do. 

“Look at me and tell me how much you love this, how much you love my cock inside of you and how much you love how I make you feel. If you can’t do that, then tell me how much you hate me. How you’re gonna kill me after this, because you said that if we got caught, you’d kill me.” Wilbur ordered, and Quackity shot a glare at him despite the situation. 

“You’re.. you’re right, I’m gonna— ah—! I’m gonna kill you after this!” Quackity replied, voice shaky and uncertain. “Oh, come on now, I don’t believe that with that tone.” Wilbur replied, hands moving to Quackity’s waist, and then he started thrusting faster, Quackity throwing his head back against Schlatt’s lap as he grit his teeth, a gross squelching sound emitting from between their legs. 

“Ahhn~ fuck you Wilbur! Yes I— hahh— love it! Feels so good, I’m gonna cum!” Quackity suddenly exploded, hands gripping the sheets so hard that his knuckles turned white, drops of precum flinging from his cock and puddling on his stomach. Wilbur laughed, the sound morphing into a low moan halfway through, fingers digging into Quackity’s waist hard enough to draw pinpricks of blood. 

“Good boy.” Quackity heard Schlatt mutter to him, and that was it. He was done. 

“I’m cumming, fuck, don’t stop~! Wilbur I’m cumming!” Quackity cried, back arching off of the mattress as cum spurt from his dick onto his chest, stomach, and even his face, a choked sob slipping from his lips with the force of his climax, after which, he just collapsed, practically going limp as Wilbur pulled out and jerked himself through his own orgasm, releasing his own load also on Quackity’s torso with a loud groan, their fluids mixing and dripping down to soak into the sheets. 

For the next couple minutes, as they came down from the post orgasm glow, Quackity struggled to remain awake, and Wilbur just sat there, eyes closed, catching his breath, but finally both of them came back to their senses, and Quackity just covered his flushed face with his hands. 

“I genuinely despise you, Wilbur.” He grumbled. 

Wilbur, with a cocky smirk, just replied, “I know.” 

Chapter Text

Not much of a break was given after the rough fucking that Quackity recieved, and so he didn’t even try to make an effort to get up and clean himself off, just laying limp and tired in the tousled hotel blankets, completely fucked out. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Schlatt lit a cigar and got up just to go sit in the room’s solitary armchair. 

“Start talking.” He said after a moment, voice gruff and somewhat bitter, causing Quackity’s pulse to speed up as if he was a little kid getting in trouble. Of course he was though, of course he was going to get an earful about what had just happened, because who wouldn’t get a rough talking to after having their husband walk in on them essentially cheating. 

It sucked. 

“He’s waiting, Quack.” Wilbur taunted, and Quackity sat up, shooting a death glare in Wilbur’s direction as he leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, sending small glances at Schlatt like he was debating asking for a smoke. 

“Shut your fucking mouth, Wilbur!” Quackity retorted, and Wilbur raised his eyebrows, unphased. “Shut it for me, brat.” He mumbled, and Quackity somehow found the strength to get up, practically jumping off of the bed as he wrapped a blanket around his torso and stormed over to Wilbur, a slight limp already making its way into his step. 

He opened his mouth to start spitting things out, but was interrupted by Wilbur reaching over to gruffly grab his chin and force him to turn to face Schlatt. “You’re going to explain this whole thing to him. Chew my ear off later.” He ordered, and Quackity wanted to scream. Or punch Wilbur. Or both. Definitely both. 

“I wanted you back..” He muttered after a moment, defeated, and Wilbur let go of him. Quackity looked down at Schlatt’s shoes, suddenly self conscious of both the cum still dripping down his body and the fact that he was still half naked apart from the thin sheet around his waist. 

“I wanted you back,” Quackity repeated. “Sure, we didn’t have it too perfect, but at least you didn’t up and leave me behind when things started getting worse. Dream obviously wasn’t going to help me, bastard that he is, so I… went to the only one who’s had experience being dead and being brought back to life and being in the same type of shitty relationship that we had going on.” He rambled, voice growing ever so slightly softer as he continued. 

“D’ awh~” Wilbur cooed, leaning against Quackity and wrapping an arm around him, body weight nearly making Quackity’s unstable legs buckle. “He does have a soft spot~” Wilbur continued to tease, but Quackity didn’t have the strength to shove him off, so he bit back a sour retort and ignored the way that his skin prickled from their contact. 

“Well,” Schlatt said, snuffing out his cigar on the arm of the chair, and Quackity bitterly noted in the back of his mind to get that fixed later. “I appreciate you being honest with me, and I don’t know if this means much coming from me of all people, since I don’t know if we’re still technically married or whatever, but I’m not gonna gatekeep your sex life. You fuck whoever you want. If that’s Wilbur, so be it, and if it’s because you two made a deal, so be it.” 

Quackity huffed, smirked, then, to all of their surprise, laughed. Through chuckles, he looked up at Schlatt and said, “Cuck.” 

Schlatt raised an eyebrow, a grin slowly forming on his face. “You like that though, don’t you? Love having me watch you fuck someone else?” He said suggestively, crossing one leg over the other, and Quackity found himself entrapped by the way his already tight dress pants stretched around his thigh. He absentmindedly nodded slightly, trying to ignore the look that Wilbur had on his face. 

“Yeah? How much did you like it when he made you cum untouched in my fuckin’ lap?” Schlatt asked, and Quackity didn’t reply, feeling a pang of worry for how this would go when Schlatt got up and reached down to grab his arms, pulling them up so that the blanket fell away from his hips. 

He then spun them and began backing Quackity up until he fell back onto the bed again, Schlatt towering over him. “Answer me, sugar.” Schlatt muttered to him, and Quackity shuddered, subconsciously squeezing his thighs shut. This felt way too familiar…

“Love it so much..” He whispered, and Schlatt grinned, a low chuckle escaping his lips. “Mmhm, bet you do~” He muttered, more to himself than to the boy in question, who’s attention was temporarily diverted when he felt the bed dip to their right as Wilbur sat down too, brown eyes twinkling with mischief. 

“If you’re expecting a round two..” Quackity started to growl, trailing off as Schlatt began laughing, almost patronizingly. “Oh, no, he’s not,” he said, shooting a pointed look at Wilbur, who for the first time tonight, looked just a little bit humbled. “But I am. You think you can get away with making me all riled up after that show you just put on of you crying and squirming in my fuckin’ lap?” 

When Quackity didn’t reply, Schlatt smirked and leaned down until their noses brushed. “What do you think, though, pumpkin? Too tuckered out for another round? Need me to tuck you in—?”

“Stop being a dickhead and fuck me.” Quackity snapped, sending an impatient glare at the man above him, who teasingly whistled, eyeing him up. “You’ve really developed quite the attitude since I was last alive~” Schlatt cooed, briefly looking over at Wilbur to see the curt nod of affirmation. “Damn right he has..” He muttered, leaning forwards to grab a fistful of Quackity’s hair, tugging his head back and ripping a moan from his throat. 

“Quite the feisty little bastard~ I don’t know if you’ve been caught up yet, but there’s a number of stunts he’s pulled.” Wilbur said, voice dipping into a more threatening octave. Quackity glared at him, trying to shake out of Schlatt’s grip to slap at Wilbur, but his arms were firmly trapped. 

“Oh yeah?” Schlatt questioned, cocking his head to the side. Wilbur nodded, a small smirk on his face. “Oh, absolutely.. Like when he blew up Purpled’s UFO or when he let Foolish die at the Red Banquet~” Wilbur said, now speaking in a babying tone, and Quackity really wanted to murder him. Both of them. He wanted to kill the two of them for making small talk like this. 

Schlatt hummed and looked back at Quackity. “This true, sugar?” He questioned, obviously teasing. “You’re that desperate for people to join your country, huh?” 

“Shut up!”

“Ah,” Wilbur cut in, scooting a little bit closer and using Quackity’s hair as a handle, causing him to wince with pain. “This is also his new little thing where when he knows he’s wrong, the only thing he says is ‘shut up’ or ‘fuck you.’ Already told me so seven times tonight.” 

Quackity just let out a sound that was halfway becoming a straight up growl, suppressing the urge to tell Wilbur to go fuck himself only because he didn’t want to prove his point even further, just glaring at him with enough malice to kill. 

Finally, he just gave up on fighting back, visibly going completely limp in Schlatt’s arms. “Please..” He whispered, looking off to the side of the room when Wilbur’s grip on his hair loosened. “Please, what, sugar?” Schlatt asked, and Quackity felt him smirking against his neck as the brunet leaned down even further. 

Face burning cherry hot, Quackity sunk his teeth into his cheek, but didn’t go quiet now. “Please can you fuck me?” He whimpered. “Need your cock inside of me..” 

“Ohh, how can I deny you when you ask so nicely?” Schlatt muttered, breath hot against Quackity’s skin as he began pressing featherlight kisses onto his sensitive flesh. 

After a moment, Schlatt released Quackity’s arms, and the first thing he did was swat Wilbur’s hand away before wrapping himself rather possessively around Schlatt, who by now had began nipping at him, lightly tugging on his neck with his teeth and occasionally latching onto a spot to suck and bite, obviously intending to leave marks. 

“Hahh— fuck—“ Quackity gasped, tipping his head back further, hands grasping for something sturdy to grab on to, and eventually settling on Schlatt’s horns, fingers wrapping around the ribbed surface with no hesitation. Schlatt groaned softly at the newfound tension on his head, but either he didn’t mind or it wasn’t uncomfortable enough for him to want to pull away. 

Suddenly, it was as if Wilbur wasn’t even there. Quackity’s mind was focused only on his husband, his mouth on his neck, and how despite having cum just minutes prior, he was starting to get hard again. 

Then, Schlatt started moving downwards, leaving a trail of featherlight kisses from Quackity’s bruised neck to his collarbone, to his chest, where he rather aggressively ripped Quackity’s shirt the rest of the way off after Wilbur had failed to do so earlier. 

One hand slid down Quackity’s side, resting tauntingly close to his halfway erect cock, while the other just rested on one side of his waist. Then, after Schlatt had tossed his shirt to the floor, he leaned back down to Quackity’s torso, looking up into his eyes with a devilish look in his own. Quackity was seconds away from asking him what he had in mind before suddenly he felt the brunet lick a stripe up his stomach and chest, lapping up the cum that had remained on the shorter’s body. 

Then, Schlatt moved up to catch Quackity in a sudden kiss, immediately thrusting his tongue in and spitting the lukewarm jizz into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the other’s until he felt him swallow, when he pulled away, but just slightly. “Fuckin’ cum slut.” He muttered, and Quackity hummed in response, voice barely above a whimper. 

Then, Schlatt sat up, grabbing onto Quackity’s thighs and spreading them, wasting no time in placing himself between his legs. He then unbuckled his belt, throwing it off to the side when it was off, and slowly, obviously tauntingly, undid his pants, eventually tugging them down just enough to free his cock, completely hard and dripping precum. 

Quackity watched as he lined himself up with his ass, eagerly waiting for the ram to push himself inside, which he did, though painfully slowly. 

It hurt more than a little bit due to the lack of preparation, but Quackity didn’t care, and he was still fairly stretched out from Wilbur, so he would manage. 

“Oh, fuck—!” Quackity gasped, hands clasping at the sheets now that his previous handholds were out of reach. “God!” Schlatt hissed, face screwing up into one of pure pleasure for just a moment before he grit his teeth and bottomed out. “It’s been too goddamn long since I’ve fucked you…” He breathed out, eyes drifting shut for just a moment before he began moving. 

Pulling almost all of the way out and then slamming back in, Schlatt fell into a harsh pace, practically tearing up Quackity’s insides with no mercy nor pause. 

It wasn’t long at all before Quackity became unraveled for the third time that night, moaning, nearly screaming, and whining, brain honing in only on the sensation of the man above him slamming into him over and over again, cock grazing against all of the right places.

“Ahh— Shit—! Feels so good!” Quackity cried out, writhing beneath Schlatt as he mercilessly pounded into him, hands digging into the same spots that Wilbur had before and drawing fresh blood. 

It was as if Wilbur wasn’t even there anymore, the brunet seemingly completely forgotten as Schlatt bucked his hips into Quackity with no abandon and Quackity in turn moaned so loud the entirety of Las Nevadas could probably hear him. 

But then Schlatt suddenly pulled out, grip loosening on the man below him, who’s eyes flicked up to meet the other’s. He actually whined with the loss of contact. 

“Ride me.” Schlatt ordered before Quackity could even say anything, and once he fully processed the words, Quackity shot up, eagerly switching places as Schlatt lay back on the bed and Quackity straddled him. 

He was placing himself in the right spot and had Schlatt’s member in his hand, lined up with himself, and Quackity was about to let himself slide down onto him, but before he could do so, Schlatt turned his head, looking away. Looking at Wilbur, who was just leaning against the wall, picking at a loose string on his shirt and obviously erect again, not even attempting to hide the bulge in his pants. He looked up, but didn’t move his head, when he saw Schlatt extend an arm halfway in his direction to pat the space next to them. 

“Come here.” Schlatt said, and Wilbur complied, walking over while trying and failing to maintain a straight face, a slight but monstrously annoying bounce in his step. 

Then, Schlatt sat up, one hand immediately finding Quackity’s waist, holding him in place as he leaned in close to his ear. “C’mon~ take me already, sugar.” He growled, and so Quackity did, head rolling back with pleasure as he pushed down onto the brunet’s cock, quickly becoming flush with his hips. 

Quackity started moving after a moment, trying to ignore Wilbur’s presence right next to him as he slowly picked up the speed of his movements and found a fast rhythm of bouncing up and down.

After a moment, however, Quackity felt Wilbur run a hand from his neck down to his hips, settling his palm on his thigh. Wilbur leaned closer to Quackity, body brushing his. “Don’t stop, come on.” Wilbur demanded as he noted Quackity’s newfound hesitation. 

With immense displeasure for Wilbur sitting sidling up next to him, Quackity kept moving. 

Another minute or two, and now Wilbur was directly behind Quackity, both hands on his hips, front mere centimeters away from his back while his head was right next to Quackity’s ear. At some point in time, Wilbur’s clothes had been discarded, sitting in a pile somewhere on the floor. 

Quackity could hear him muttering sweet nothings into his ear, hands lightly pulling him up and down on Schlatt’s cock, grip barely there, but there nonetheless. Meanwhile, Schlatt’s hands had found Quackity’s thighs, and his grip was strong as he let out ragged pants and low moans, obviously on the edge of climax. 

“H— Ohh, fuck, sugar, I’m gonna cum!” Schlatt gasped, and Quackity nodded sluggishly to no one in particular, but he did start moving faster, switching positions so that he was essentially crouching, though this new position did press him back against Wilbur. 

“Ahh~! Please! Please cum inside me, sir!” He then cried out, immediately snapping his mouth shut as the reality of what he just said crashed over him. Maybe it was because he’d been used to the Schlatt that was President, the Schlatt that made you call him sir, but that era had been years ago, and it was as if his brain had been on autopilot, so the word had just slipped out, but it clearly wasn’t met with distaste. 

Schlatt’s eyes found Quackity’s, and he had a completely baffled and dazed look on his face before his hands shot up to hold his hips, clamping Wilbur’s hands to Quackity’s body as he did so, and started roughly fucking up into the shorter, skin slapping so aggressively that there would obviously be lasting marks. 

“Fuck!” Schlatt groaned. “Call me that again! Call me that again and bounce on my fucking cock!” 

“Hhn— ohh, fuck yes, sir! ‘S feels so good! Love your cock, sir! Love it so fuckin’ much, sir!” Quackity babbled. At some point in time his eyes had drifted shut, but now they opened as he felt someone’s lips on the nape of his neck. 

Wilbur. It was embarrassing how many times Quackity had managed to forget Wilbur was there. 

“You’re so fuckin’ soft with him, you brat.” He growled into Quackity’s ear, nipping at his lobe and chuckling softly when the other boy let out a growl that was most definitely not one of pleasure. 

“Tell me you’re gonna kill me but then you switch up for him, huh? Fucking pathetic.” Wilbur huffed, smirking. Then, suddenly, he removed one hand from Quackity’s side and instead took one forearm in his hand, pulling the shorter’s arm back until Quackity felt him thrust his erection into his palm, precum slicking up his skin instantly. 

Without hesitation, which surprised both men, Quackity enclosed his fingers around the brunet’s cock, sloppily jerking him off while still trying to focus on riding Schlatt, who was doing most of the work, but still. 

Wilbur sighed, eyes fluttering shut as he pressed his face into Quackity’s shoulder blade. “Fuck yeah, baby,” he said, voice muffled, breath hot against Quackity’s body. “Jerk my fucking cock, you brat. You fucking cockslut, you’re so good at this, like you exist just to take dick.” Wilbur then broke off to scoff. “Thinking you’d ever be in control.. We’re in your country now, but you’re still just a little cock sucking bitch, whining and begging to be filled up.” He mocked, recalling their first encounter. 

Quackity shuddered at Wilbur’s tone, letting out a small whimper between heavy pants. He loved the way he sounded like that. Degrading him. He loved the way that Wilbur spat the words at him and genuinely meant what he said, but this information could be pried from Quackity’s cold, stiff corpse. 

By now, Schlatt’s motions had become desperate and sloppy. He was agonizingly close to his climax, and so were the other two, none of them holding back moans and heavy gasps for breath, Quackity and Wilbur more so than Schlatt however, since the two of them had already cum such a short time ago. 

“Hng~ p— please touch me, Wilbur… I’m gonna cum, please touch me!” Quackity whimpered, and Wilbur hastily complied, too out of it to tease, letting go of Quackity’s other hip to grab his cock, precum dripping from the tip, and swiftly pump his hand up and down. 

Quackity moaned at the sudden friction, the hot feeling of Wilbur’s calloused hand on his length just enough to push him over the edge, and he fell into a fit of hurried, high pitched moans and gasps. “Ahh—! Thank you!” He sobbed, head lolling off to the side as his vision grew fuzzy. “Thank you, sir! I’m cumming! I’m— hahh~ fuck!” Completely oblivious to the fact that he’d just called Wilbur, of all people, ‘sir’, Quackity came, back arching, legs shaking and promptly failing him, cum spurting from his cock in uneven spurts onto his stomach and Schlatt’s. 

Then, the feeling of Quackity tightening around him being too much, or maybe just enough, Schlatt came with a ragged moan, holding himself balls deep in Quackity as he came within him. 

A moment of pause for the two to catch their breaths, and then Schlatt was pulling Quackity down towards him, the acting causing the brunet to pull out, cum sliding down Quackity’s thighs. 

Schlatt connected their lips again, but this kiss was slower, more passionate. A rare moment of intimacy. But then Quackity pulled away to look behind him at Wilbur. Feeling his face turning red, Quackity looked up at him and spread his legs ever so slightly. “Cum inside me…” he muttered. “Please..” 

He didn’t have to tell Wilbur twice. 

The drag of Wilbur’s cock on his insides as he pushed in was almost too much at first due to the initial overpowering sensation of overstimulation, but Quackity quickly grew accustomed to it, slightly pushing back against him as he desperately rose to a fast and unrelenting pace, the squelching sounds of semen and other fluids soon filling the room, along with Wilbur’s loud groans. 

Schlatt connected his and Quackity’s lips again, hands cupping his cheeks as their mouths moved together, small moans escaping Quackity’s lips around the kiss as Wilbur confined to harshly pound into him until suddenly he paused, slowly gyrating his hips into Quackity as he came with a muffled moan. 

When Wilbur eventually pulled out and collapsed onto the bed beside the other two, Quackity felt even more cum dripping down his legs, but he didn’t have the energy to actually get up and clean off, so he settled for snuggling into Schlatt’s chest and trying to fall asleep before anyone started talking and ruined the mood. 

“You owe me new clothes,” Schlatt then said, ruffling Quackity’s hair. “Got cum all over these.” 

“Yeah, well, you owe me a new chair, and if you didn’t want to get these dirty, I would have recommended not being fully clothed during sex.” Quackity shot back. Schlatt chuckled, not denying anything. 

“Feisty little guy, aren't you?” Wilbur teased. Quackity shot him a halfhearted glare. “Fuck off, Soot.” He growled. 

“Yes, sir.” Wilbur teased in response, and Quackity just turned his head the other way so that he wouldn’t have to look at the brunet, grumbling incoherent threats of nothing, but Wilbur knew he didn’t mean it. 

Chapter Text

While Wilbur walked, he didn’t really pay attention to where he was going, and so eventually, when he did look up at something other than his feet, he found himself in the smaller part of Las Nevadas that wasn’t actually all huge skyscrapers. He could see those in the distance, internal lights bright against the evening’s diminishing sunlight, but these buildings here we’re more mellow places, if that was even the correct term. 

It was still loud, but the loudness was coming from inside places like bars or some sort of club. 

Wilbur had actually never really explored this part of the country, but now he found it quite nice. It was quieter here than the more intimidating bustle of the casino lined center area, and the ‘silence’ gave him time to think. 

Quackity had gone off with Fundy and Slimecicle, but Wilbur didn’t know where exactly they went. He’d just seen them mingling in front of the hotel, all of them in armor, so Wilbur knew something was up, but by the time he’d gotten close to their position, they were already gone. 

In a way, it felt weird being alone. Of course it did. Wilbur had been trailing after Quackity for the past few weeks, so the boy had always been within earshot or touch range. He was used to hearing Quackity’s voice near him, but now he was gone, and Wilbur didn’t know when he’d be back. 

Wilbur scolded himself for acting so childish as to think that Quackity couldn’t, shouldn’t, go anywhere without him, and he thought back to their first conversation. “So basically a clingy boyfriend.” Quackity had said, and Wilbur hated how much of a reality he’d made that statement. 

The sound of a nearby door opening and closing (identifiable by the sudden increase and decrease in the sound levels) cut into Wilbur’s thoughts. He looked up, and, upon seeing that it was actually Schlatt, who happened to be walking towards him, Wilbur forced himself to relax and ditch the bitter look that he most definitely wore. 

It didn’t really work. 

Schlatt huffed as he stopped in front of Wilbur, a cigar between his fingers. “What’s got your dick in a twist?” He asked, and Wilbur scoffed at the phrase, a slight grin sneaking onto his lips for a moment before he became more or less neutral again. “Nothing.” He said.

“We both know that’s not true, sugar.” Schlatt said, patting Wilbur’s shoulder and beginning to walk away. Wilbur followed after him, feeling himself flush a light shade of red at his receiving of Schlatt’s nickname for Quackity. 

“It’s nothing, really, just something stupid.” Wilbur said, and Schlatt hummed, pressing his cigar between his lips and inhaling. He stopped, turned to look at Wilbur, and smirked, smoke escaping from the corners of his mouth. “Something stupid isn’t just nothing, Will.” He stated, the rest of the smoke puffing out of his mouth. 

Wilbur resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but only because, in a way, he feared Schlatt’s authority. Quackity was swiftly becoming one of the most powerful figures in the server, owning this huge nation and (Wilbur had to admit) running it wonderfully. He had Dream practically at his mercy, and now Techno was trapped with Dream as well, all Quackity’s doing. Not even Wilbur’s threatening presence had impacted Quackity’s day to day mood despite him becoming noticeably more pissed off. Quackity was basically unstoppable, but Schlatt could turn him into putty within seconds. 

Wilbur didn’t know whether it was due to a residual feeling of love or fear (or both) for him, but it was seriously impressive how Schlatt could pretty much just snap his fingers and suddenly Quackity was coming completely undone. 

“I said it’s nothing.” Wilbur said, stuffing his hands into his pockets as the two started walking again. Schlatt eyed him up out of the corner of his eyes and he continued to smoke. Wilbur had a hard look in his eyes, achieved from years of slowly descending into insanity and essentially losing his childlike sense of peace. Years of war and exile had ruined him, but he’d come back stronger than ever, the white streak in his hair was proof enough of that. 

They were an interesting pair, former enemies, reunited by Quackity, and now probably bordering friends with benefits, if you could even count fucking the same person being friends with benefits. No, it was more complicated than that—

“Stop staring at me.” Wilbur muttered, and Schlatt looked forwards, but not before catching the annoyed glance that Wilbur sent him. 

“What if I don’t? What are you gonna do about it?” Schlatt taunted, cocking his head to the side. Wilbur didn’t reply. 

“Answer me.”

Oh boy. Wilbur had heard that line before. But he wasn’t going to submit at the tap of a button. 

Wilbur smirked. “What if I don’t?” He repeated, pulse racing when he saw Schlatt falter. “Ahh,” Wilbur then chuckled. “Not used to people disobeying you?” He teased, voice rising to a babying tone. The same tone he’d used when he’d been mocking Quackity the other night. 

Suddenly, Schlatt was grabbing onto him, dragging him into an alleyway and slamming the taller into the side of a building. “You’re more of a brat than he is, you know that?” Schlatt hissed. Wilbur just grinned. “Ohh, baby, I’m not a brat, I could get you on your knees and begging.” He spat. Schlatt glared at him, nothing but malice in his eyes. “I would love to see you try.” He growled back. 

Wilbur had also heard that one before. His grin widened. “I’ve heard that line before,” he stated. “Your husband said the exact same thing to me before I fucked him absolutely senseless.” Schlatt, to Wilbur’s surprise, just laughed. “It’s not some big feat to get a bottom crying beneath you, Wilbur, you’re not as big as you think you are.”

“Are you implying that I’m a bottom?” Wilbur challenged, not at all offended but putting up a fight for the sake of the argument. 

“I’m implying that I could make you cry.” Schlatt countered, popping one hip out with a confident grin. Wilbur scoffed. Rolled his eyes. 

“I doubt that.” He replied. 

In a flash, Schlatt slammed his hand onto the brick next to Wilbur’s head, aggressively putting out his cigar. “Yeah? You would think that, wouldn’t you?” He growled, a look in his eyes that Wilbur couldn’t quite place. 

Wilbur was about to shoot back a retort when Schlatt suddenly leaned in and kissed him, instantly sliding his tongue into Wilbur’s mouth. It quickly turned into a heated make out, Wilbur’s hands finding the front of Schlatt’s shirt and holding the material tightly while Schlatt’s hands were positioned beside Wilbur’s head. 

Neither one of them was willing to submit to the other, but eventually Wilbur found himself sinking ever so slightly further down the wall, face red, desperately needing to break away to breathe. 

Thankfully, Schlatt soon pulled away, and Wilbur gasped for air, a thick string of saliva connecting their lips. “Fuck..” Wilbur almost huffed, but he caught himself before the word left his mouth. 

Then, Schlatt suddenly grabbed onto Wilbur again, this time pulling him farther back into the alley until they were practically out of sight from the main road system. Next, Wilbur found himself being spun around and pinned with his chest to the wall, Schlatt pressed up against his back. “You act like you can tell just anyone what to do, but I’ll bet you take cock better than you give it.” The ram spat, and Wilbur growled in response. 

Not that Wilbur was completely opposed to bottoming, he was willing to see what it was like, he was just rather opposed to bottoming with Schlatt as a first. 

“Come on, Will, you gotta talk to me~” Schlatt cooed, hands finding Wilbur’s chest before sliding down his front and lightly tugging at the hem of his sweater. “Yeah?” Wilbur retorted. “Maybe I just don’t want to humor you.” Bluffing. He was bluffing. He did actually want to humor him. Schlatt couldn’t see, but Wilbur was certainly aroused, his pride was just too big for him to break down and play along.

“Aww.. you don’t mean that, do you?” Schlatt said, obviously teasing. “Well, I don’t want to do anything without your consent. That being said, I’ll leave you be now, have a good night.”

Oh, this bastard…

Wilbur felt him let go and bit his lip. “Don’t you dare…” He growled, remaining in the same position but turning his head to see Schlatt stop, the shorter not at all trying to hide the grin on his face. “Don’t I dare what?” He replied, looking over at Wilbur out of the side of his eyes. “Don’t you dare leave me like this,” Wilbur snarled, now standing up straight. “You did this, you’re going to finish it. If that means you fucking me, so fuckin’ be it, but I’m not gonna be your whiny little slut, got it? I tell you what to do, you just get to get it in.” 

“I can work with that.” Schlatt mumbled triumphantly as he walked back over to Wilbur. Suddenly, Schlatt grabbed onto Wilbur again, pinning him chest first against the building again, immediately starting to grind against him while his hands flew to Wilbur’s front, sloppily undoing his belt, unbuttoning his pants, one hand sliding into his boxers while the other moved up the front of Wilbur’s sweater.

Wilbur groaned at the sensation of Schlatt’s hand around his dick. Schlatt’s hand moving along his chest, pulling up the bottom of his top and exposing his stomach to the cooling almost nighttime air. Schlatt becoming hard against him...

For a moment, Wilbur became worried about the fact that they were in public, but, like he’d said when he’d made that deal with Quackity, pretty much no one would come here. What reason would anyone have to come this far back in the alleyways, if not to get up to some inappropriate activities?

Wilbur was then snapped out of his thoughts by Schlatt’s hand leaving his shirt, the brunet’s skin feeling cold with the lack of content. After that, he heard the sound of Schlatt undoing his own belt, and a moment later, the ram’s hands were on his hips again, this time tugging his jeans and boxers down to his ankles. 

Good god, the air was cold, which was fucking weird, because they were in a goddamn desert, a terraformed one, but a desert nonetheless. Wilbur shivered, and Schlatt scoffed. “Cold?” He taunted. Wilbur turned his head to shoot a glare at the other man. “Be quiet.” He snapped. Schlatt just narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. “Feisty…” He muttered with slight distaste. “Why do I always manage to attract the feisty ones?” Wilbur just rolled his eyes.

Then, Schlatt’s hand was suddenly at Wilbur’s face, one finger sliding into the corner of his mouth. “Open up, sweetie~” Schlatt cooed, and in response, Wilbur snapped at his finger, just hard enough to get the digit between his teeth without drawing blood. “You. Do. Not. Tell me what to do.” Wilbur growled, voice muffled by Schlatt’s finger, which he abruptly yanked away, only to grab Wilbur’s chin with a vice-like grip, tugging his head back roughly and damn near choking him. 

“Do you want me to prep you? Huh? Because I can easily just fuck you right this minute. I don’t care how much it would hurt.” Schlatt barked, and Wilbur groaned, face screwing up for just a moment before he shoved Schlatt’s hand away. “Fine. Fucking do it, but keep your hands out of my mouth.” Wilbur growled, and he heard Schlatt scoff, but the man otherwise complied. 

A second or two later, Schlatt was coating two of his fingers in saliva and not hesitating before thrusting one of them inside of Wilbur, who gasped, then groaned at the sensation. It was certainly something new. Wilbur felt like he was hyper aware of Schlatt’s finger inside of him, and even more so when he added a second and began curling them with every inward thrust, trying to locate his prostate.

Fuck, Schlatt was good at this. It wasn’t long before he’d found Wilbur’s spot, and in response, Wilbur automatically let out a rather loud moan, head tipping down as he tensed. “Feel good, Wilbur?” Schlatt asked, and Wilbur knew by the tone of his voice that he was trying to get under his skin, but he was determined not to let the patronizing tone get to him. 

Wilbur smirked. “Yes. Do it faster.” He said, the breath of a whine escaping his throat as he spoke. Schlatt obliged, and Wilbur moaned, raised his head, letting his cheek rest against the building so that he could look back at Schlatt, who was staring directly into his eyes. Wilbur returned his gaze with a cocky grin, sticking his tongue out for a brief moment. Schlatt returned his look with an annoyed glare, but he kept his mouth shut and instead pushed a third finger inside of the other, scissoring him open. 

Eventually, Schlatt removed his fingers, and Wilbur watched him tug his pants down, erection popping up to hit his stomach. Wilbur retained eye contact as Schlatt lined himself up with his hole, and right as Schlatt was opening his mouth to ask a mocking question about him being allowed to put it in yet, Wilbur pushed off of the wall and shoved Schlatt’s cock inside for him, bottoming out within seconds with a groan from the both of them. 

“Fuck..” Schlatt gasped. “You’re so tight. You ever actually take cock before?” 

“I’ll have you know that this is actually a first,” Wilbur stated. “Now move.” 

Schlatt muttered something incoherent under his breath, but complied with Wilbur’s demands, slightly rolling his hips as he began thrusting back and forth, almost pulling all of the way out before pushing back in, eventually increasing his pace as his hands found Wilbur’s hips, holding onto him with a tight grasp. 

It was uncomfortable at first, but eventually became less so, and Wilbur found himself clawing at the brick in front of him as he tried to get a grip on something, anything, as he poorly managed to hold back moans. “Faster!” He gasped. “Ohh my god, harder!”  

By now, Schlatt was pounding into him, gritting his teeth as he did so, and moaning through his teeth, looking up at Wilbur’s face every few seconds to bask in the expression that he wore, cheeks red, lips parted, eyes occasionally drifting back in his skull when Schlatt slammed into a particularly sensitive spot. 

Then, Wilbur chuckled. “Do I feel good?” He taunted in a breathy tone. “Nice and hot around your huge fuckin’ cock?” 

“Shut it.” Retorted Schlatt. Wilbur narrowed his eyes and tipped his chin up, looking back at Schlatt with a displeased and very annoyed expression. “Answer me,” he growled back. “Fuck me harder and fucking answer me.”  

Under his breath, Schlatt spat something that sounded like, “Oh, I’ll fuck you harder alright!” and then he stopped. Pulled out. Let go of Wilbur’s hips and instead grabbed onto one leg, above the knee. 

Wilbur let out a surprised yelp when Schlatt hoisted his leg up, nearly wiping him off of his feet, but Schlatt caught his top half before he wound up with his head in the dirt. Unfortunately, this was done by the brunet grabbing onto the collar of Wilbur’s sweater, and this time, he was choked, but regained his composure in the end, grabbing back onto the wall as Schlatt held his leg over his shoulder. 

Wilbur shot Schlatt an icy glare, ready to chew his ear off as he rubbed his sore neck, but before he even thought about what to say, Schlatt suddenly thrusted into him again, and whatever Wilbur was going to say was morphed into a rather loud, rather high moan, as the new angle that Schlatt was fucking into him allowed him to hit his prostate with every thrust. 

As Schlatt fell back into the fast, rough rhythm that he’d built up beforehand, he laced his fingers through Wilbur’s hair, lightly pulling a couple of times but never too roughly. “Yes,” he groaned. “You feel so good, Will, ‘m surprised you’ve never taken it before.. you’re so fuckin’ fuckable.” Wilbur smirked, bit his lip, tried to retain eye contact as his vision grew fuzzy and he neared his climax. “So good,” he mumbled. “You’re so good..! Fuck— You gonna cum?” 

“Yeah— fuck yeah I’m gonna cum!” Schlatt replied, picking up his pace ever so slightly, hips stuttering. Both of them were bordering incoherency, and Wilbur loved it. His fingernails tore into the mortar of the building, dirt turning the undersides of his fingernails dark, and the slight pain of it kept him grounded. “Cum for me! Pleaasee~! Cum inside! Fuckin’ fill me up!” Wilbur barked, breath hitching for a moment. 

“Sh— shit! Oh fuck, I’m cumming!” Schlatt cried out, voice rising into a high, desperate tone. The words had barely left his mouth before he abruptly stopped, holding himself as close to the other brunet as possible while he came, Wilbur feeling some of his load drip out of his ass and down his thighs. 

When Schlatt pulled out, Wilbur finally set his leg down, feeling sore and unsteady already, so he kept himself leaning against the building beside them for support. Then, before Schlatt seemed to have even finished catching his breath, Wilbur watched him drop down to his knees, and bit back a cocky grin when a hand wrapped around the base of his still hard cock. 

Schlatt looked up at Wilbur, either for confirmation that this was a yes or just to see the look on his face, Wilbur didn’t know, but anyways, he still mumbled a soft, “Suck me.” and so Schlatt did, taking the tip of Wilbur’s dick into his mouth before slowly pushing himself down until he felt Wilbur hit the back of his throat. 

Wilbur rested one of his hands on the back of Schlatt’s head as he began bobbing his head up and down, gradually increasing his pace, and it wasn’t long before Wilbur was on the edge, especially with the way that Schlatt dragged his tongue across his cock with every motion, occasionally pausing to just suck and lick at his head. 

“Fuck— cumming—! Schlatt, I’m— fuck!” Wilbur moaned, unable to string together a coherent sentence. The hand on Schlatt’s head had eventually tightened on a fist of hair, but the ram didn’t seem to mind. At least not at the moment. “Look at me.” He muttered, pulling off of Wilbur’s cock with a dramatic ‘pop’. He waited until Wilbur was fully focused on him before running his tongue across his length again, licking a stripe up from the base to his tip, then just pressing his tongue flat against his slit and jerking Wilbur off with one hand while the other lay on his thigh for support, mouth open, waiting for the taller to cum. 

“Ohhh, shit…!” Wilbur groaned, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. Then, he came, a low moan tearing itself from his throat as he threw his head back, cum spurting from his cock in uneven ropes onto Schlatt’s tongue and cheek. 

Trembling slightly from both the cold of the night and the force of his orgasm, Wilbur remained leaning against the wall for another few minutes, even after Schlatt stood and put his clothes back on. When Wilbur finally stepped away from the side of the building, he found his legs shakier than he initially thought, tried to play it off, failed, and found himself being walked out of the alley with his arm around Schlatt’s shoulder, leaning on him for support. 

“So,” Wilbur huffed after a moment. “Who takes you better? Me, or Q’?” Schlatt laughed at that, though it was more of a scoff noise. “Definitely not you.” He said, and Wilbur playfully rolled his eyes. “It’s okay, you can tell me the truth, I won’t make too much fun of you.” He teased. Schlatt scoffed again. “Tell yourself whatever you need to to help you sleep at night.” He commented with a small smirk, and Wilbur chuckled. “Schlatt, darling, I’ll have you know that I sleep like a baby.” He replied as they walked around a corner and the hotel came into view, with it, Quackity, who, when he saw the pair, ran up to them. 

“Where the hell have you two been?! No one knows where you are and you’re not answering any messages! I thought you up and died or some bullshit!” Quackity began yelling before he even reached the two, who now just shared a look. Then, Wilbur grinned. “I dunno Quack, seems like you were worried about me.” He teased. Immediately, Quackity turned bright red. “I wasn’t.” He snapped, far too quickly. Wilbur dislodged himself from Schlatt and walked over to the shorter, ruffling his hair and muttering, “Suree~ of course~” before walking past him and into the hotel, obviously limping by now, and obviously, Quackity noticed this. 

Quackity’s gaze followed Wilbur until he was out of sight, then, he looked back at Schlatt, baffled look on his face, though Schlatt didn’t know if it was regarding the fact that the two of them had sex, that Wilbur bottomed, or that Wilbur now seemed to have lost a decently sized portion of his usual bitterness, at least for now. He’d probably be back to normal by the following morning. 

“What the hell happened between you two?” Quackity asked, following after Schlatt as he started to walk after Wilbur into the hotel. “Ah, nothing much, just had to sort of a tiny challenge.” He said. 

“Well, who won?” Quackity asked. Schlatt looked up, recalling the events of the past hour. “Wilbur did.” He eventually remarked with a shrug. “Oh?” Quackity hummed, obviously looking for more information. “Yeah,” Schlatt said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Said I could make him cry, but he didn’t.” 

Quackity didn’t reply to this, and Schlatt smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I’ll do it next though, eh?” He muttered. Quackity looked over at him, quietly agreed, though he hadn’t actually heard what Schlatt had said, and the subject was then dropped. 

Chapter Text

Quackity stood in the top of The Needle, leaning against the handrail and looking out over the country, seeing in the distance where the terraformed sand transformed into the original forest landscape. He was in a rather sour mood, and he’d come here to think. A few yards away, Slimecicle was messing around with a deck of cards, the rustling of the plastic and occasional words mumbled under the slime’s breath being the only sounds apart from the wind and far off sounds of people gambling and having fun. 

Then, there came the recognizable sound of the door to the area being opened, and Quackity looked behind him, ready to snap at someone to leave, before he saw that it was Wilbur. Saying nothing, Quackity looked forward again. 

“Hey.” Wilbur said. 

“How’d you find me?” Quackity asked in response. 

“Saw you sitting up here being all sulky. Schlatt and I were looking for you.” 

“You saw me? From the ground?” Quackity questioned dubiously. “What can I say?” Wilbur replied in a monotonous voice as he walked up next to Quackity. “Dad’s part bird, I have good eyesight.” 

Quackity huffed. “Whatever. Why were you looking for me?” He asked, lowering his voice a little bit. Wilbur elbowed him. “Oh, you know, just because.” He whispered suggestively. Quackity rolled his eyes. “You two really can’t keep it in your pants for more than a day at a time, you know that? You’re worse than hormonal teenagers.” He chided, but he had a small grin on his face, mood already lightening somewhat. 

“Ah, well, you got me there, but I think Schlatt has something special planned, not sure what but..” Wilbur broke off to shrug. Quackity huffed again, and Wilbur nudged him playfully. “Huffy tonight, are we?” He teased. 

“Shut up.” Quackity replied. Wilbur raised a hand as if to motion for Quackity to be quiet. “Ah, now we know that I’m not wrong.” He stated. 

“What?” Quackity questioned, tiredly drawing out the syllables of the word as he let his head drop to rest on the rail. Wilbur smirked. “Remember how you always say ‘shut up’ when you know you’re wrong. You know that, Slime?” Wilbur called out, switching his attention to Slimecicle, who looked over at them questioningly. “Huffy here always tells people to shut up when he’s wrong and they’re right—“ 

“Okay, seriously Soot, shut your mouth or I’ll shut it for you.” Quackity growled, shoving him, and Wilbur just chuckled, but obeyed and fell silent.

There was a curt moment of total silence, and then Quackity sighed. “Hey Slimecicle, can you leave us?” He called, and Slimecicle nodded. “Sure, Quackity from Las Nevadas!” He replied, putting his cards back into their box before exiting through the singular door, leaving Wilbur and Quackity alone. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something for a while now.” Quackity said, not missing a beat. 

“How long is a while?”

“Half a month. However long it’s been since we first had sex,” Quackity shrugged. “But that’s not the important part.”

“What’s the important part?” Wilbur questioned, cocking his head to the side slightly. “The important part is this question, Wilbur: Can I kiss you?” 

Wilbur froze for a second. Of all things, that was what he’d expected the least. “Yeah, ‘course.” He finally got out, stepping closer to Quackity. Considering all the things they’d done to each other, it was weird how awkward this kiss seemed at first. Wilbur stepped up to Quackity, hands finding his cheeks, and Quackity let himself be backed up against the railing behind them. Then, finally, their lips touched, and Quackity was mad that he didn’t ask for this sooner. 

Wilbur’s mouth was scarred from years of biting, but he was a good kisser, lips moving against Quackity’s in an almost intoxicating way. One of Wilbur’s hands trailed back from Quackity’s cheek to cup the back of his head, and Quackity tensed, preparing for Wilbur to tighten his grasp and roughly tug, breaking away to laugh and tease about how intimate this was, but it never happened. Wilbur just kept kissing him. 

Slowly, Quackity discovered that Wilbur was closing the space between them, railing digging into his back as Wilbur pushed harder and harder against them, beginning to move in more feral motions. 

“Wish I kissed you before.” Wilbur growled, breaking the kiss for just a second before going back in, barely giving Quackity a chance to catch his breath. Quackity clawed at the brunet’s back, whimpering slightly beneath him, his eyes squeezed shut. 

Then, Quackity felt Wilbur nip at his bottom lip, and he opened his mouth, Wilbur immediately pushing his tongue into Quackity’s mouth. Quackity moaned, hands squeezing the back of his jacket so hard that his knuckles turned white. 

A second later, Wilbur was grinding against Quackity’s front, groaning softly around the other’s mouth. But then Quackity gently pushed him away. “You said Schlatt was also looking for me?” He asked in a hushed tone, trying to change the subject, but Wilbur shook his head. “He can wait. I wanna fuck you.” Wilbur replied. Quackity felt himself heating up, in more ways than one. “Here?”

“Here. Right now.”

“No… people would definitely see.” Quackity replied. 

“You think I care? I didn’t care when you blew me in the middle of L’manburg, I didn’t care when Schlatt fucked me in a fucking alley, I don’t care if people see me, Quackity.” Wilbur snarled, and Quackity sighed out through his nose. “I care, you bastard.” He retorted. Wilbur opened his mouth to snap something back, but was cut off by the door opening yet again and someone’s approaching voice. 

“Wilbur, Quackity, where the fuck are you? I gave you five fuckin’ minutes—“ Schlatt trailed off when he spotted the two in question, and he rolled his eyes. “How many times am I going to walk in on you two getting in each others’ pants?” He asked no one in particular. 

“We’re not,” Quackity snapped, squirming out from Wilbur’s arms. “The day you catch me having this public of sex is the day that you find me dead.” Wilbur scoffed. “Yeah? You sucked me off and came in your pants on that glass dome over my country and you’re still alive and kicking.” He stated. Quackity shot him a glare full of nothing but fury. Through clenched teeth, he spat, “Did you see anyone walking about then, Wilbur? Huh? Did you see anyone?!”  

Wilbur raised his hands in defense as Quackity chewed him out, a small grin on his face, but was saved from having to reply by Schlatt approaching and wrapping his arms around Quackity, snapping him out of his rage. “Came in your pants, huh?” He teased. Quackity muttered something bitter under his breath. “I’ll kill you. I mean it.” He then growled. Schlatt chuckled under his breath, hands sliding down to Quackity’s waist. “I don’t think you will, sugar~” He whispered to him, undoing his belt as he spoke. 

Quackity grabbed onto Schlatt’s forearms, trying (but not really) to pull his hands away. “St— Stop..” He whimpered, feebly picking at the wrists of Schlatt’s shirt. 

“You mean that? I’ll stop if you really want me too.” Schlatt muttered, sliding one hand into Quackity’s pants as he spoke, using the other to pull his pants down enough to push his half hard cock through the slit in his boxers. Schlatt then removed his hand from inside the other’s pants to wrap his palm around his length, slowly pumping his hand up and down, using his other to run slow circles across his tip with his thumb. 

“Hhn~! Yes, I mean it! Fuck—“ Quackity moaned softly, throwing his head back on Schlatt’s shoulder. “A— actually stop, please!” He added, and Schlatt did. Quackity caught his breath for a moment before he slapped Schlatt’s hands away from him and pulled his pants back up, entire face beet red. “Someone is going to see,” he insisted. “Whether it be some random strangers or someone like Sam or Foolish, someone is going to fucking see.” 

“Sure, whatever, Wilbur, go get a hotel room.” Schlatt huffed, and Quackity gaped at him. It was that fucking easy? What the hell?! “Don’t look at me like that.” Schlatt huffed, looking away, and Quackity shook his head, keeping an eye on Wilbur as he adjusted his clothes to make it seem as though he didn’t have a massive hard on. “Come on, you guys are afraid of Foolish?” Quackity deadpanned. Schlatt shook his head at the same time as Wilbur said, “Nah, Foolish is something, but Sam is fucking terrifying.” 

Quackity rolled his eyes. These idiots didn’t care if anyone saw them getting into it, as they’d proven many times before. Wilbur didn’t care when they were outside, Wilbur didn’t care when Schlatt walked in on them for the first time, and neither cared when they fucked in a public place, but the mention of a man that was unlikely to look for Quackity in the first place had them rushing to get a room. What the fuck. 

Quackity followed the other two down the flight of stairs to the ground, thinking over things with annoyance and amusement. The whole public could watch them, but the moment the prison guard was brought into things, everything was different. Quackity found it far too funny, and would definitely use this as ammo for teasing later on. 

Wilbur trotted ahead of the other two, and Quackity watched him rush into the hotel, quickly going out of sight. When they entered the building after him, he was nowhere to be seen. “The hell did he go?” Quackity grumbled. Schlatt shrugged. “We’ll find him, or he’ll find us, sooner or later.” He noted, and he was right. Wilbur was standing just inside the door to the stairwell, and when he saw the other two, he perked up and shot up the stairs, the others following him, just at a slower pace. 

When they arrived at the room Wilbur had purchased, Quackity noted that it was the same one as the first time, and he somewhat bitterly wondered if Wilbur had done this intentionally. 

Before he could ask, however, Wilbur had him by the forearm and was dragging him towards the bed. The two of them practically collapsed onto the mattress, Wilbur then hauling Quackity to his knees and hungrily locking their lips. 

As they kissed, Schlatt slid onto the bed behind Quackity and once again wrapped his arms around him, kneeling behind him as he undid the other’s belt and pants, faster now, more eager, and this time, Quackity didn’t tell him to stop as he pulled out his dick and started stroking. Quackity moaned, and Wilbur once more pushed his tongue into Quackity’s mouth. 

A moment later, Quackity reached towards Wilbur, hands finding his belt after initially struggling due to his closed eyes and distracted brain. He unfastened Wilbur’s belt and tossed it aside, pants soon being tugged down so that his erection popped up into Quackity’s hand. Immediately, he started pumping his hand up and down, more or less at the same pace that Schlatt’s hand was moving, and Wilbur groaned, softly thrusting his hips into Quackity’s hand. 

“Fuck..” They heard Schlatt breathe out, and then Quackity felt him let go of his cock to pull his pants down as much as possible, so he broke away from Wilbur to shift into a position easier for Schlatt to take his clothes off, but in turn, he suddenly found himself being manhandled until his pants and boxers were off, his face was right next to Wilbur’s cock, and his hips were up in the air, Schlatt rubbing a spit slicked finger against his hole. 

“You look so fucking hot right now.” Wilbur muttered, caressing Quackity’s cheek with one hand. Quackity turned noticeably more red and responded by taking the head of Wilbur’s dick between his lips. “Ohh.. shit….” Wilbur gasped, eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment before he opened them and locked gazes with Quackity.

As Quackity slowly took more and more of Wilbur’s cock into his mouth, Schlatt pushed one finger inside of him, and he let out a high groan. Wilbur’s hand moved from Quackity’s cheek to the back of his head, gently guiding him further down until he couldn’t take anymore, a light tap to Wilbur’s thigh conveying this to him, and so Wilbur pulled his hand away as Quackity started bobbing his head up and down. 

At some point in time, Schlatt had added another finger, and now, he added a third, stretching Quackity out until he deemed him loose enough, when he pulled his fingers out and ripped his pants off, so aggressively that Quackity was surprised a button didn’t pop off. 

Barely a moment later, Schlatt was pushing into Quackity, moving at a pace that was painfully slow for the both of them. Finally, he bottomed out, and a small groan slipped past his lips. He paused for a moment, then started moving, rising to a fairly brutal pace pretty quickly, Quackity’s muffled moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, accompanied by Wilbur and Schlatt’s own exclamations of pleasure. 

And then, Wilbur got an idea.

To say Quackity was surprised when Wilbur pulled away from him was an understatement, especially when he grabbed onto his shoulders and hoisted him up, muttering almost incoherent words of, “Both of you, sit up.” “I’m gonna do something, here—“ And then he would start trying to position them how he saw fit until Schlatt and Quackity found themselves in a reverse cowgirl, or cowboy, Wilbur didn’t know, position, Wilbur swiftly placing himself between Quackity’s legs. 

As he leaned down, Quackity felt his pulse racing, and he somehow turned even more red when Wilbur grabbed onto his hips and started sucking him off. “Fuck!” Quackity keened, tossing his head back and almost slamming his skull into Schlatt’s nose. 

As Schlatt fell back into his previous rhythm, now bucking up into Quackity and therefore driving him deeper into Wilbur’s throat with every motion, he gripped the flesh below Quackity’s ribs so tightly that it almost hurt, but Quackity didn’t care. 

Quackity let his eyes drift shut after a moment, blissfully basking in the waves of pleasure these two were giving to him, moan after shameless moan dripping from his lips. His hands shifting from clasping onto the sheets to grabbing at Schlatt’s sleeves. 

After a moment, Quackity felt one of Wilbur’s hands leave him, but he didn’t think anything of it; the most he did to acknowledge Wilbur’s hand’s absence was crack an eye open when he let out a moan around his cock and Quackity assumed he was just getting himself off from the way that his arm was tucked under his torso and between his legs. 

Wilbur then abruptly stopped, but didn’t pull off. He looked up at Quackity (and Schlatt, who was also watching him and slowing his movements as he waited to see what Wilbur would do) as he pushed his head down further. It seemed to be different than the first time he’d put Quackity’s cock in his mouth. Maybe it was the position, but this time, he seemed bigger. Wilbur groaned, the sound muffled by the other’s dick, and then he pushed himself further down, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt the head of Quackity’s member slide into the ring of his throat. 

Wilbur held himself there, nose pressed flush to Quackity’s pelvis, until he had to breathe, and he popped back off with a gasp, a thick glob of saliva connecting his lips to Quackity’s throbbing cock. He immediately went back down however, tilting his head sideways and wrapping his lips around the base of Quackity’s length, dragging his mouth up to the tip and then running his tongue across his slit, pausing only to lay open mouthed kisses across his sensitive flesh as more spit and heavy gasps for breath leaked from his mouth. 

“So big~” Wilbur muttered, looking back up at the other two with tears brimming in his eyes. “Your cock’s so big, I need to suck you off more fuckin’ often.” Quackity sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, gaze locked on Wilbur’s mouth around his dick. The sight alone could easily make him cum. 

But then, Wilbur sat up, removing the hand from between his legs as he did so to wipe his mouth with his forearm. With a smirk, he tugged his pants off, and Quackity watched with slight confusion as he shuffled closer, stepping over the other two’s bodies so that he was straddling Quackity. He leant over them, pressing his forehead to Quackity’s. “You look so confused, it’s kinda pathetic.” He commented. At Quackity’s angry glare, Wilbur chuckled, “What? Haven’t caught on yet? If I was gonna fuck you, I’d be inside you already.” 

It took Wilbur reaching back to grab Quackity’s cock for him to finally realize what the brunet was talking about, but he had absolutely zero seconds to prepare before Wilbur was sitting up and sinking back onto his length, Quackity slipping inside of him like butter. 

Quackity cried out as he felt the heat of Wilbur’s ass around him, voice rising into an embarrassingly high octave as he involuntarily kicked his legs out, toes curling. For a brief moment, Quackity’s brain failed to wrap around how good he actually felt, and if it wasn’t for Schlatt making some crude comment to Wilbur telling him how much of a cockslut he was, Quackity probably would have actually died. 

Of course, he hadn’t been jerking off earlier. Wilbur had probably planned this, so why couldn’t he plan to catch Quackity off guard while he was at it? It made Quackity a little annoyed, but he wasn’t going to complain, especially when he was balls deep in this prick. 

“Move.” He growled. 

Wilbur scoffed, but Schlatt followed the man’s order without hesitation, taking both Quackity and Wilbur by surprise as he skipped the teasing and degrading to return to fucking into Quackity, who instantly and instinctively gripped onto Wilbur’s hips. 

“Pl— please~!”

And that was all Wilbur needed. 

At first, his movements were slow and rather sloppy, but the brunet quickly found a pace that worked for him, bouncing up and down in a rhythm that left him rising off of Quackity at the same time as Schlatt pulled out, and slamming back down onto him as Schlatt thrusted into him, and vice versa. It wasn’t long before Quackity was a mess, squirming around, gasping for breath, and actually on the verge of crying. He was maybe one suggestive word away from climaxing, and it was taking everything in him to hold onto his coherency. 

“Ahh—! Fu—ck, feels so good, oh my god!” Quackity gasped, clenching his teeth, and he felt Schlatt press his mouth against his neck, obviously smirking. “Yeah? How good? How good does it feel to fuck him, huh?” He spat, and Quackity whined, closing his eyes and squeezing a singular tear from the corner of one eye. “So good..!” He whimpered in response. So close.. he was so close. 

“Yeah? Tell him that, then.” Schlatt demanded, grabbing onto Quackity’s chin with one hand so hard that his fingernails would leave crescent shaped indents long after he let go. He shook his head, and Quackity opened his eyes, barely managing to focus properly on Wilbur’s body above him. “Wilbur~!” He gasped. “Wilbur, you feel so fucking hot! Gonna make me cum!” 

Wilbur smirked, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He started moving faster, beginning to gyrate his hips slightly, but it was enough. It was more than enough. 

Wilbur opened his mouth, ready to say something dirty back, probably tell him that even though he wasn’t doing anything but taking cock, he still gave it better than Schlatt (because why not? Fuck it, Wilbur felt like making Schlatt want to slap him right now), but before he even got one breath out, he felt Quackity’s hands tighten on him, felt his entire body become tense, and watched as his face contorted into one of nothing but ecstasy as he suddenly came, a shaky scream tearing itself from his throat that quickly transformed into a sob. 

Tears freely rolled down Quackity’s cheeks as a shudder overtook his body. “FUCK~ OHH— Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck!” Quackity cried out, chest heaving as he attempted to catch his breath, but neither man was giving him a break. Soon, he was just simply crying, hitched moans dribbling from his lips. 

His brain was nothing but a fuzzy mess, temples throbbing slightly as Quackity squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to ground himself before he actually saw the light of whatever god there was coming to take him away. It barely felt like he could even breathe properly.

“W— wait.. stop.” He mumbled, for a moment worried that no one had heard him, but they had, and immediately stopped, Wilbur trying his best not to move at all in case the overstimulation became too much. “Are you okay?” Schlatt asked at the same time as Wilbur questioned, “What’s wrong?” 

“..Nothing,” Quackity breathed out after a second or two, raising a shaky hand to wipe his eyes, cheeks burning red with embarrassment that he’d cried. “Just a bit much for me.” He managed a small laugh. “I’m okay, I promise, and that was really good.” He added, and Wilbur nodded, sliding off of him to collapse next to Schlatt, who helped Quackity rise as well. “What do you need us to do?” The brunet asked, and Quackity shook his head. “No, nothing, I’m just gonna take a shower, but you owe me cuddles later.” 

“Of course.” Wilbur and Schlatt replied in unison as Quackity stood and started off towards the hotel room’s bathroom, clutching the wall for support. The other two remained silent, watching him until he was out of sight. There was the sound of the bathroom door clicking shut, a moment of silence, and then Quackity called out. “Don’t feel obligated to stop everything because of me. You guys can continue if you want.” 

Any reply that Schlatt or Wilbur could have offered was cut off by the sound of the shower turning on, and Wilbur sat up, sidling over to Schlatt, resting his chin on his shoulder, and then suddenly he was being grabbed by the throat and pinned to the mattress, Schlatt towering over him. “I have to say, that little stunt surprised me.” He growled, no doubt referring to Wilbur deciding to take it, and Wilbur bit his lip to suppress a smirk. “What can I say~ I’m full of surprises~” He replied, and Schlatt huffed, clearly amused. “Oh, you’re full of more than just surprises, sweetheart.” He hissed in response, eyes trailing down Wilbur’s sweat slicked body. 

When his gaze reached his waist, Wilbur instinctively tried to close his legs, but Schlatt grabbed onto one of his thighs with his free hand and spread them again, placing himself between the other’s legs. Wilbur looked up at him almost expectantly, eyes shining with want. He made no move to speak, and after a moment, Schlatt smirked devilishly. “What are you waiting for?” He spat. “I don’t tell you what to do, remember?” Wilbur shot him a glare, but he knew that he couldn’t deny anything he’d said in the past, and he was going to stick to what he’d said. The only time Schlatt had ever been able to tell him what to do had been when he’d exiled him and Tommy, and that wasn’t going to change now. 

“Fuck me, then.” Wilbur retorted. It was funny, he thought to himself, how quickly the attitude changed when Quackity was out of the picture. Maybe Wilbur was starting to go soft for him, initial hate transforming into deeper emotions that he didn’t feel like dealing with. 

Wilbur was snapped out of his thoughts when he felt Schlatt let go of his neck, and he watched as he let his other hand trail down to his hips. “What if I don’t?” Schlatt asked, a cocky grin on his lips. Wilbur felt one hand come to rest on the underside of one thigh, and he was preparing a snappy comeback when Schlatt suddenly thrust two fingers inside of him, a gasp leaving the taller’s throat rather than words. 

“You know what, Wilbur?” Schlatt growled, and Wilbur didn’t reply, he just glared at him and tried not to focus on the digits in his ass, spreading Quackity’s load around his insides. 

“I’ll bet I could make you cum just from my fucking fingers.” 

“I doubt that.” 

“Challenge accepted, you bastard.” Schlatt retorted, not giving Wilbur a chance to reply before he began thrusting his fingers in and out, curling them with every motion as he attempted to locate the brunet’s prostate. He found it sooner rather than later, and immediately, Wilbur’s head lolled off to the side. “Shit..” He breathed out. Schlatt grinned, biting the inside of his cheek. 

Hitting that spot over and over again was enough to drive Wilbur insane fairly quickly, and it wasn’t long before he was just squirming and moaning, gasping for breath between curses and grunts. 

“Feel good? Tell me how good it is, pretty boy!” Schlatt taunted, loving the way that Wilbur couldn’t even formulate a 100% coherent response. Wilbur groaned through his teeth, a long, drawn out sound of pleasure and annoyance. He squeezed his eyes shut and mumbled something under his breath. 

“What was that?” Schlatt asked, cocking his head to the side as he started thrusting his fingers in harder. “Ahhn—! Fuck you! I feel fuckin’ great!” Wilbur exclaimed, and Schlatt chuckled softly. “That’s what I thought.” He murmured, returning his full attention to the motions of his hand, curling his fingers against Wilbur’s spot harder and harder until he wasn’t even moving them in and out, just holding them in and continuously abusing his prostate until the man below him was on the edge of tears, twitching, clawing at the sheets, eyes defocusing as his head lolled off to the side. 

The hand that had remained on Wilbur’s thigh now left his skin, and Wilbur brought himself back down to earth for just a moment to watch as Schlatt began jerking himself off, and Wilbur was entrapped by the way his hand moved along the length of his cock for just a moment before he became undone again, desperate for release. 

“Hahh~ fuuuck…!” Wilbur groaned, gritting his teeth as Schlatt slipped a third finger inside of him. “Mhmm~” Schlatt hummed. “Squirm for my fucking fingers, you goddamn slut.” 

Wilbur started to shoot something back about how he wasn’t Schlatt’s slut, but before he could speak, Schlatt simply pressed his fingers to his prostate and held them there so hard that it hurt, though not enough to warrant a safe word, rubbing in slow circles until Wilbur was just a trembling, incoherent mess, trembles quickly turning into sharp spasms as the brunet suddenly came, mind going blank as thick spurts of cum shot from his cock onto his stomach, more semen sliding down his length and pooling at his pelvis. 

That seemed to be the annoying thing about this night to Wilbur, being cut off right before he could say something because someone was having an orgasm. 

He was too out of it to make a single sound, and Wilbur just fell limp after a moment, the sound of him trying to catch his breath being the only sign that he was even still alive. 

Wilbur, still in his post orgasm sense of bliss, just lay there for a moment. He heard Schlatt let out a shaky moan, and then he too came. 

A short period of time passed in which there was just silence apart from Schlatt and Wilbur’s ragged breathing and the sound of the shower still, running, and that was when Wilbur remembered that Quackity was still here. In the heat of the moment, he’d managed to forget about the other man. 

When Quackity emerged from the bathroom, Schlatt and Wilbur had already more or less cleaned up, if cleaning up could be counted as just pulling most of the dirty sheets off of the bed and piling them in the corner of the room before passing out still naked on the bed like nothing had happened. Quackity slid between them, rousing Wilbur from whatever state of deliriousness he’d been in. 

“Hey.” He slurred. Quackity had to chuckle. “He really fucked you up, huh?” He teased. Wilbur looked away. “Shut up.” He replied. Schlatt scoffed from where he lay face down on Quackity’s other side, and Quackity jumped, not knowing that he’d been awake the whole time. “You two in your role swapping arc?” He asked, and Quackity huffed. Wilbur rolled his eyes and said nothing. 

Another moment of quiet. 

“Can I ask you guys something?” Schlatt suddenly questioned, and the other boys nodded. Schlatt turned his head so that he could look up at them. “What are we? Is this whole thing some friends with benefits shit or are we a thing?” 

“I wouldn’t mind being a thing.” Wilbur stated, and Quackity nodded in agreement. “I also want us to be a thing, but only if you two promise me something.” He said, and now all of the attention was on him. Wilbur and Schlatt didn’t need to say anything for Quackity to know that they were listening and willing to make whatever promise he proposed. 

“Promise me you’re not gonna.. leave me behind,” Quackity muttered. “If we break up, I can deal with that, but if you ever just leave me without a single word about it, I won’t…” He trailed off, but he didn’t have to finish. They knew what he meant. Wilbur reached over and wrapped an arm around Quackity while Schlatt sat up and cupped his cheek in one hand. “We promise, sugar.” Schlatt told him, and Quackity smiled softly, leaning into his touch ever so slightly more. 

This, Quackity thought, felt nice. Very nice. It was so good to feel loved again. 

Chapter Text

It was a hot day out, it usually was. That was the weird thing about Las Nevadas, it was blisteringly hot during the daytime and frigid at night. Quackity didn’t really care though, that was part of the place’s charm. It pulled you in with the promise of a nice, hot day, and made you stay inside at night to gamble longer or buy a hotel room if you didn’t leave before the chill really set in. 

However, today was hotter than usual, and Quackity sat alone, sprawled out on a bench on the roadside. Despite the heat, he had a cigarette between his teeth, and he was in a rather bitter mood, so much so that he was on the edge of simply mauling the thing. 

There was nobody about, and if Quackity didn’t know better, he could easily think that he was the last person alive. That was, until he spotted a familiar horned figure trotting towards him. 

“Hey sugar.” Schlatt nonchalantly chirped as he slid into the seat next to Quackity, who pretended not to notice nor care about him being there. “You alright pumpkin?” Schlatt added when Quackity didn’t say anything. “I didn’t know you smoked, Wilb—“

“Don’t bring him up now, Schlatt.” Quackity interrupted, and Schlatt scoffed with amusement. “Why? What’d he do?” 

“I’m just sick of him tailing me like if he keeps his eyes off of me for one second I’m gonna go rabid and kill someone. Sure, I appreciate the guy, but not when he acts like he has to babysit me 24/7.” Quackity grumbled, and Schlatt smirked. He mumbled something under his breath, and Quackity shot him a sour look out of the corner of his eye. “What was that?”

“I was just saying how different you are from when I was president.” 

“Yeah? How different?” Quackity knew he was being a prick. He knew he should lay off and save the bitter attitude for someone who really deserved it instead of taking his emotions out on his (husband?) boyfriend, but he couldn’t stop at this point in time. 

Schlatt had somehow managed to retain a neutral complexion this entire time, but now he took on a wistful expression, like he was remembering something especially fond, but just as quickly, his face screwed up into a look of annoyance. “Things were so much easier back then,” the ram spat. “No offense to him, but we didn’t have to worry about Wilbur, didn’t have a government yet, and the most exciting things going on were turf wars between Dream, George, and Sapnap and whatever drug cartel L’manburg was.” 

As Schlatt spoke, Quackity turned his head to stare at him, an amused expression on his face. “I’ve never heard you reminisce like that before..” he said. “Usually it’s—“

“‘Fuck Wilbur, fuck Dream, fuck everyone else, get me a goddamn drink.’ Yeah, yeah, I know.” Schlatt bitterly cut in, and Quackity just nodded, looking into the distance with a far off expression, obviously thinking about the past. Eventually, he shook his head to clear his thoughts and stood up. He grabbed the cig from between his lips and let it drop to the ground before he stomped it out with his foot. Then, Quackity looked back at Schlatt. “Let’s go somewhere else.” He said, and Schlatt nodded, standing as well. “Like where?” The brunet questioned, and when Quackity didn’t know what to say, Schlatt sighed. “I know we’ve seen a lot of these the past couple months, but I have a room in your hotel.” 

Quackity shrugged. Why not? He’d be grateful for the air conditioning either way. “Sure, lead the way.” He said, and followed after Schlatt as he wordlessly began to walk off. 

The walk to the building was silent and uneventful, and so was the entire walk up the stairs to one of the highest floors. When they entered the room, Quackity sighed with the relief of feeling cold air on his skin as he sat down on the edge of the bed while Schlatt just walked over to stand near the window and look out onto the streets below, placing a featherlight kiss on Quackity’s cheek as he passed him. 

“So,” Quackity muttered after a moment. “I feel like something’s up. What’s up?”

Schlatt sighed, “Nothing, really, just… Look— This might seem stupid, but I want to ask you if you’ve moved on from those two.” He didn’t need to clarify who ‘those two’ were. They both knew. “Of course I have.” Quackity huffed, a bit taken aback. 

“You sure?” Schlatt asked, now sounding rather annoyed, and Quackity narrowed his eyes, wondering what he’d done to elicit this annoyance. “Because,” Schlatt continued. “You never moved on from me, so—“

“I did,” Quackity interrupted. “I did move on.” 

Schlatt raised an eyebrow, turning to fully face the other man. “You didn’t,” he stated. “If you did move on, would we still be standing here? Would you trust me enough to get you alone in a room after how much of an asshole I was when we were married? Would you let me kiss you on the cheek like we’re still married?” Quackity looked down and sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. The truth was, he didn’t know. 

“That’s why you wanted me back, right? Because you never let go. The reason that I’m even alive is because you didn’t move on.” 

And he was right. Schlatt was right, and Quackity knew it, but he really didn’t want to admit it. “Can you come here?” He asked instead of addressing the issue at hand. Schlatt obliged and sat beside him. Quackity looked over at him, both of them staring into each other’s eyes, and then Quackity wordlessly leaned in, wordlessly kissing the brunet softly on the mouth, pausing there to see what he would do. When Schlatt closed his eyes and kissed him back, Quackity did as well. 

Eventually, Quackity found himself being pushed back onto the bed, and when he felt his back hit the mattress, he opened his eyes halfway, watching Schlatt break the kiss for just a moment to place himself over him. “We’re doing this now?” Quackity mumbled. “Only if you want to.” Schlatt replied. “Of course I do.” Quackity retorted, accidentally sounding rather snappish, as if Schlatt was supposed to know that that was how he was going to reply, and he almost apologized for it before he stopped himself. 

Schlatt said nothing, just giving a quick moment of eye contact before he moved down again, pressing his lips to Quackity’s neck, lightly kissing along his skin while he unbuttoned his shirt. 

Eventually, hands moved down to Quackity’s hips, fingers slowly pulling his belt open, hooking under the waistband of his pants, and Schlatt smirked when his actions were met with eager whines of, “Faster.. please, hurry up..!” And Schlatt obliged, and though he still took his time, now, he moved a little bit faster. 

With one hand, Schlatt began tugging the front of Quackity’s pants down, and while Quackity lifted himself up to help with the removal of the clothing, Schlatt wrapped his other hand around Quackity’s half hard dick, dragging his thumb in slow circles across his tip. He was completely erect within seconds, pressing a hand to his mouth to sink his teeth into the side of his palm; moans spilled from Quackity’s lips, muffled from his flesh, and Schlatt reached up to pull his hand away from his face. “Come on, don’t hide your sounds from me.” The brunet muttered, and Quackity’s face managed to turn even redder. 

Why was he this embarrassed? It wasn’t like they’d never done anything together before. Maybe, Quackity thought, it was the heat messing with his mind, but he knew for a fact that this was bullshit. 

“What’s wrong, sugar?” Schlatt teased, as if reading Quackity’s thoughts, and the man in question glared halfheartedly down at him. “Oh, don’t look at me like that~” Schlatt then hummed, and Quackity opened his mouth to reply, but stopped as Schlatt hoisted himself up and fell onto the mattress directly beside Quackity, scooting closer to him until he was practically spooning him, one hand still around his member. “N— nothing.” Quackity mumbled, and Schlatt huffed, pressing his lips to the back of Quackity’s neck, but he said nothing. 

“Hnn~ fuck..” Quackity gasped a second later as Schlatt’s teeth sunk into a spot on his neck, and Schlatt exhaled heavily in reply, breath hot against the other’s flesh. He then began moving his wrist faster, jerking his hand swiftly up and down, using the precum dribbling from Quackity’s cock as a sort of lube. 

After another couple of moments, Schlatt let go of Quackity, only to pull his shirt off, which Quackity helped him do, and to undo his own button up, which Quackity also helped him do, flipping their positions as he did so. Quackity straddled Schlatt as they both sloppily worked on unbuttoning his shirt. There was a brief moment in which Schlatt looked a little nervous, but Quackity brushed it off until the article was off and on the floor. Then, he paused. 

Quackity’s eyes trailed down to Schlatt’s forearms, the backs of which was almost nothing except scar tissue. In uneven splotches, Schlatt’s arms were covered in burn marks. “Fireworks, right? From the Festival?” Quackity asked, subconsciously trailing his fingers across the brunet’s skin. 

“Yeah.” Schlatt replied softly, raising his arms in an example defensive position, as if he was protecting his face from something, and Quackity nodded, figuring that when he’d been killed, he’d been trying to protect his face. Well, he’d succeeded, because Quackity had had no idea that he even had these scars, and if Quackity didn’t, surely no one else did. 

“What else are you hiding from me?” Quackity questioned, half joking and not at all serious, but Schlatt snickered. “Find out, why don’t you?” He replied, and then sat up to grab onto Quackity, pulling him back down onto the bed and resuming their previous position, this time tugging his pants and boxers down before wrapping his arms around Quackity again. 

As Schlatt held him from behind once again, Quackity attempted to twist in his arms until he was able to kiss him again, their lips locking for a brief moment before Schlatt broke away with a harsh exhale. He muttered something unintelligible under his breath that Quackity couldn’t quite catch, and before the other could ask about it, he forgot, because one of Schlatt’s hands was back around his cock and the other one was cupping his face, fingers gently prying his lips apart. 

Quackity eagerly parted his lips, letting Schlatt slide three digits into his mouth. He made eye contact for a brief moment as he sucked on the man’s fingers, a bit of drool collecting at the corner of his mouth as he slid his tongue between Schlatt’s fingers, occasionally dragging his teeth across his flesh and overall just getting them as slick as possible until Schlatt pulled his hand away, a thick string of saliva connecting his middle finger to Quackity’s mouth. 

Then, Schlatt moved the hand that had been slowly jerking off Quackity throughout the moment to instead grab his thigh and hold his legs slightly apart, enough to be able to fit his hand easily between his legs and push a finger into his hole. 

Quackity let out the breath of a moan at the feeling that was becoming increasingly more familiar, and he released a slightly louder sound as Schlatt began thrusting his finger in and out of him, curling the digit just enough for the sensation to be noticeable, but just present enough to bring an annoyingly small amount of pleasure. After a moment, Schlatt added his second, then third fingers, continuing to stretch Quackity out until he was practically begging for him to fuck him. 

“P— please, Schlatt! Please fuck me! I want you inside me…!” Quackity whined, and Schlatt smirked, pressing his face to Quackity’s neck yet again. When he didn’t reply right away, Quackity groaned, flustered and impatient. “I need you, please!” He whimpered next. “Need your cock, pleeaase!” And at that, Schlatt finally started listening to him. 

When Schlatt pulled his fingers out of Quackity’s ass, he raised Quackity’s leg higher up into the air and used his free hand to line himself up, cock smearing a stripe of precum on the other’s skin. “You sure you want this?” He teased. “You sure you really need me?” 

Quackity, in response, hastily nodded his head, begging with his eyes as he bit the inside of his cheek. He muttered a small, “Mmhm.” under his breath after a second, and so Schlatt began pushing himself inside, moving slowly. When he bottomed out, he paused for a moment, breath escaping in heated pants. He could feel Quackity vaguely trembling against his body, and so he finally started thrusting. 

Falling into a quick rhythm within the course of a couple minutes, Schlatt’s hands were tight on Quackity, and as he held onto his thigh almost for dear life, he simultaneously got Quackity off as well, sloppily trying to keep at the same pace as he was fucking him. 

“Hahh~! Feels so good! Holy sh— shit!” Quackity keened, Schlatt moaning in response. The brunet let his eyes drift shut, but opened them again when he felt Quackity squirming in his grasp, once more turning to try and lock their lips. This time, Schlatt didn’t break away, biting and sucking on Quackity’s mouth until he was positive that he’d left lasting marks. Marks that would speckle swollen lips for days afterward. 

“Fuck!” Schlatt drawled. “You’re so fucking tight!”

“Mm~ yeah!” Quackity absentmindedly replied in a slurred tone. 

“So fuckin’ hot, too!” The brunet added in a tone almost like a growl. He dipped his head lower and nuzzled his face into Quackity’s neck, continuing to leave tooth marks and hickeys across his skin while he increased the pace of his thrusts, soon feeling the familiar sensation of an approaching orgasm. 

Schlatt had begun to drift into his own little world, but was promptly brought back when Quackity let out a particularly loud cry of pleasure, twisted in his arms even more, and then Schlatt felt one of his hands wrap around the keratin of one horn. The brunet fought the instinctual urge to rip his head away, forcing himself to remain still out of the fear that he’d hurt Quackity. Instead, he let him hold him like this, and eventually, he calmed enough to relax the muscles in his neck. 

“Is this okay?” Quackity then questioned in a breathy tone, and Schlatt was about to nod before catching himself. “Yeah, ‘course it’s fine.” He replied. Quackity shot him a completely fucked out grin, eyes half lidded, and god, to Schlatt, he looked fucking perfect. 

Schlatt barely gave any sort of warning besides a quick mutter of, “Harder…” before he dug his nails deeper into Quackity’s thigh, speeding up the motions of his other hand, and fucked into Quackity even harder, the sharp sound of their skin slapping echoing throughout the room. 

“Ahh~ f— fuck!” Quackity cried, his head falling back down onto the bed. He tensed, back arching slightly, and then with the next thrust, the tip of Schlatt’s cock slammed into his prostate. 

“Ohhh— right there!! L— love it!” Quackity practically screamed. His free hand clasped the sheets so hard that his knuckles felt like they would split, the fabric beneath his palm damp with sweat. 

“Love you! Fuck, I love you!” Quackity then moaned, and when he tightened his grip on Schlatt’s horn, Schlatt felt it. Felt the faint tug on his skull, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the white knuckled grip that his husband had on him. So he held him with the same force.

Schlatt took his hand off of Quackity’s dick to instead wrap his arm around the man’s waist and hold him as close as possible. Sweaty skin pressed against sweaty skin, there was almost nowhere where they weren’t touching. 

“Love you too!” The brunet groaned back, words muffled as his face was once again being pressed to Quackity’s skin. “Fuck, I love you too!” 

Quackity gasped, breath hitching, and in a matter of seconds, he’d released the sheets to instead grasp at the back of the hand on his torso, forcefully entwining the two’s fingers. He muttered something, but Schlatt didn’t catch it, both due to the softness of Quackity’s voice and the way that his brain was going fuzzy. He was so close… 

“I’m gonna fuckin’ cum!” Schlatt groaned, and Quackity absentmindedly nodded in response. “M— me too!” He replied, voice rising into an almost oddly high and shaky tone. 

Schlatt felt Quackity faintly tremble in his grip for a moment, and then he tensed up, a ragged moan escaping around his clenched teeth as he came, and a second later, Schlatt did too, bucking into Quackity a final time before he released his load inside of him, a shaky groan tearing its way out of his throat. 

There was a moment’s pause in which the two just lay there, panting, thoughts muddled, in that post orgasm glow. Then, Schlatt released Quackity’s leg, and instead hugged him, still inside, small amounts of cum beginning to leak out of the other’s ass around his dick. Quackity finally let go of Schlatt’s horn, and he almost sighed with vague relief before he stopped himself, minimally ashamed that of all things he was thinking about now, it was the pressure on his head. 

“I do..” Quackity mumbled. “I do love you, you know.” Schlatt placed a hand on top of one of Quackity’s and started tracing small circles across the back of his palm. “I know. I do too.” He replied, closing his eyes as he felt Quackity’s free hand glide along one of his arms. 

They just lay there for a long time, and only when Quackity was inches away from falling asleep did Schlatt pull away from him, earning a halfhearted glare, but the ram just shrugged, getting up to clean up. “It’s fucking hot, I’m gonna take a shower,” he explained as he began walking away to the room’s bathroom. “Join me if you want.” He then added. 

Quackity rolled his eyes, but he still got up, and he still followed after Schlatt. 

Chapter Text

“Wilbur!” Quackity hollered, and Wilbur, who was still a few yards away, stopped walking. He looked back at the shorter as he made his way through the slight crowd that was taking up the Las Nevadas streets and patiently waited while he caught his breath. “Can I talk to you?” Quackity asked after a moment, and Wilbur nodded. “Yeah, ‘course.” He said. 

“Okay, well, come on then, this isn’t really a conversation to have in public.” Quackity muttered. Wilbur smirked. “Why?” He asked in a suggestive, teasing, tone. Quackity shot him a glare. “Because the public doesn’t need to hear about our ‘deal.’” He retorted, and Wilbur nodded to himself. “Sure,” he huffed. “Well, take me to where you wanna take me.” He added, making a vague gesture with his arm. Quackity bit back a reply and just started walking, Wilbur following a short distance behind him. 

When they were in a less crowded place, and barely any people were around them, Quackity glanced over at the brunet. “I want to change the contents of the deal.” He stated, and Wilbur noted the hint of professionalism in his voice, like he was in the midst of making a genuine business deal. “I’m listening.” Wilbur replied, knowing that he had to be talking the same way. The overly formal speech habits he’d picked up whilst in the government had yet to leave him. 

“You helped me bring Schlatt back. I appreciate that. And I’m gonna be honest, Wilbur, I appreciate you. A lot. I don’t want whatever ‘this’ is to just be hookups anymore.”

“I get what you’re saying,” Wilbur replied, picking up his pace enough to walk directly beside Quackity. “So what do you propose instead?” 

“Don’t ditch me without talking to me about it first.”

“We already had this conversation, sweetheart, I’m not gonna do that.” Wilbur said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. 

“Yeah— well— ugh,” Quackity groaned. “Fuck the deal, okay? It’s basically invalid at this point in time.” Wilbur raised an eyebrow, and Quackity sighed. “I don’t want there to be a deal keeping us together anymore, Wilbur, I want us together because we want it, not because you require payment for helping me out.” Quackity clarified, and Wilbur nodded with an, “Ahh.” 

There was a pause. 

“So you’re formally asking me out?” Wilbur teased, holding back a huff of laughter when he spotted the glare that Quackity sent him. “I thought we already did that.” He grumbled. “Did you, sugar?” Wilbur taunted in reply, and Quackity scoffed. “You don’t get to call me that.” He said under his breath. 

“Then what’ll it be? Baby? Doll? Sweetie? Sweetheart? Pumpkin? Honey? My dear?” Wilbur retorted, taking a step towards Quackity, backing him up against a nearby building with every pet name that he listed off until he had him pinned to the brick. Wilbur leaned over him, coat falling to nearly hide Quackity’s body in Wilbur’s shadow. The brunet smirked, and Quackity glowered at him. 

Wilbur took another step, practically thrusting one leg between Quackity’s, his knee grinding into his groin. “Duckling?” Wilbur hissed. Quackity’s face screwed up for a moment before he shot a furious glare up at Wilbur. “You know, I hate pet names almost as much as I hate you.” He growled. 

Wilbur pretended to pout. “Aww… but how much is that really?” He said, voice rising to his annoying (or so Quackity thought) babying tone. “I hate you Wilby, I hate you soo much! Oh, fuck me harder! Your cock feels so good! I’m gonna cum so hard I see stars!” Wilbur derided, crossing his eyes and sticking his tongue out in an exaggerated expression of mock pleasure. 

Quackity’s face was beet red with anger and embarrassment both, and he longed to put the brunet in his place. Grab a fistful of his hair and shove him to his knees as he’d done to Quackity days and days beforehand, when this whole damned thing had actually begun. If he didn’t feel so damn flustered about Wilbur’s knee between his legs and the mocking words pouring from his lips, he probably would actually do so. 

“Gonna say something, duck?” Wilbur spat after a second or two of silence. “Gonna tell me to fuck off? To shut up? Fuck your brains out until you’re mindlessly sobbing on my—“

“Watch your tongue, Soot!” Quackity barked, and in response, Wilbur just raised a hand and viciously gripped Quackity’s chin in his palm, fingernails digging crescent shaped bruises into his delicate skin. “Call me by my last name again and I’ll have to punish you.” He said in a dark tone, narrowed eyes glaring daggers at Quackity. 

Quackity grit his teeth, returning Wilbur’s look with one of the same energy, damn near trembling with pent up sexual rage. 

“I. Mean. It.” Wilbur snarled, sensing that Quackity was going to try something. Quackity, however, didn’t listen. Why would he? He didn’t take orders from Wilbur of all people. Only one man could tell him what to do, and that was his president. And besides, what’s the worst he would actually do? Quackity could deal with pretty much anything at this point in time. “What are you gonna do, Wilbur?” He shot, treading on dangerously thin ice. “Slap me? Gonna fuckin’ spank me? Huh, Soot?! You gonna slap me like I’m a bad little boy that needs to be punished by his fuckin’ master?!” 

Wilbur ground his teeth together, looking directly into Quackity’s eyes. “You talk so fuckin’ much, you know that? It’s so annoying,” he spat, pulling away just a little bit as if he was disgusted. “You really are no more than a spoiled brat, you know that?” Now, Wilbur’s tone became dangerously low, and Quackity actually began to regret some of the things he’d just screamed. “‘Bad little boy that needs to be punished by his fuckin’ master.’” Wilbur said, quoting the man beneath him with a scoff. 

Then, Wilbur let go of Quackity’s chin. “Maybe I will slap you, huh? You deserve it.” He muttered, more to himself, pulling his hand back, tipping his chin up like he was looking down at something he didn’t deem worthy to be in his presence. “You don’t have the balls to even touch me.” Quackity hissed, most definitely feeling far too confident in himself. 

The movement was too quick to follow, and Quackity barely managed to close his eyes before he caught the sting of Wilbur’s palm on his cheek. He was vaguely aware of the dizziness from the sudden, sharp, forced movement of his head and the fiery burn of where Wilbur had hit him and how the action drew a halfway pained moan from his lips, but Quackity didn’t care about that now, he was more stunned that Wilbur had actually gone through with it. He hadn’t actually expected the brunet to hit him, but god, he hated to admit how exhilarating it was. 

Waiting to see what Wilbur would do next, Quackity kept his head positioned where it had ended up, hair falling over his still closed eyes as small, insignificant whines dripped from his mouth. The pain was already dulling, but that didn’t stop automatic tears from forming in Quackity’s eyes. He bit back a smirk and finally raised his head. 

Forcefully blinking fat tears from the corners of his eyes, Quackity put on a faux expression of hurt. Crying on command had never been something he’d mastered, but now, Quackity found that the more he felt like he wanted to cry (even if it was just to try and fluster Wilbur), the more natural tears began forming until he couldn’t even put an end to the act if he really wanted to. 

Quackity raised a hand to rub at his cheeks, pressing back against the wall behind him and looking at Wilbur as if he’d just damaged their relationship beyond repair. Crying on command had never been one of Quackity’s strong suits, but manipulation, however…

“W— Wilbur..!” He whined. “I didn’t think you’d go that far! Th— that hurt a lot~!” Before the words had finished coming out of his mouth, Wilbur had his hands cupping Quackity’s face, thumbs gingerly brushing away tears. “I didn’t mean to do it that hard, I’m so sorry!” He babbled, previous bitter mood instantly dropping, he looked down, then pulled Quackity into a hug, kissing away the droplets of salt that had slid down to the shorter man’s neck. 

When Wilbur couldn’t see his face, Quackity broke into a huge grin. He shouldn’t feel this good about what he’d done, but yet he did. He chuckled evilly. “If you’re really that sorry, why do you have a massive hard on?” He taunted, wrapping his arms around Wilbur’s waist and suddenly pulling him closer until their bodies were flush. 

Wilbur sputtered out a jumbled mix of words, eventually putting a sentence together. “You fucking faked all of that?!” He boomed, pushing himself away from the other. Quackity laughed now, using his sleeves to dry his face. “What? Dacryphilia? Or are you just a fucking sadist?” Quackity teased, avoiding the question. Wilbur groaned, annoyed and embarrassed as Quackity watched him with a cheeky look. 

“I’m not kink shaming you, Wilbur,” Quackity said after a moment, rolling his eyes as if this was obvious. “Look, I liked it when you hit me. However, I don’t especially like it when you boss me around that much.” He explained simply, shrugging. Wilbur snorted, still flustered. “Masochist.” He growled under his breath, and Quackity scoffed. “Am not. Come on, you didn’t see me pop a boner when Techno took my fuckin’ eye, did ya? Or every time I’ve been caught in your fucking nation being blown up?” He retorted. 

Wilbur snorted again, crossing his arms. “‘I liked it when you hit me.’” He mocked, and Quackity rolled his eyes so hard that it hurt. “I’m into being degraded, dumbass.” He replied in the same mocking tone, crossing his own arms and mimicking Wilbur’s stance. 

“Bastard.” Wilbur shot. 

“Brat.” Quackity shot back. 

They glared at each other for a moment, and then Wilbur groaned, sounding obviously fed up. “Whatever, are you gonna let me fuck or not?” He asked. Quackity looked him up and down, being slow to answer until he was sure the tension was killing Wilbur. “Only if you’re not gonna be a pussy about falling through with what you tell me. Bad boy needs to be punished, right?” Quackity teased with a toothy smirk, beginning to detangle himself from Wilbur’s legs and walk away, looking back as he waited for the brunet to follow him. “Say something like that again and I will fuck you right here, right now, I do not care if we’re in the middle of the road.” Wilbur growled, stuffing his hands into his pockets in a sad attempt to make his noticeable bulge less noticeable. 

Quackity scoffed to himself. “Believe me, I know you would.” He muttered. 

The residential area of Las Nevadas was quite nice. The houses all looked more or less the same, but they were comfortably big. And Quackity’s was the biggest. Of course it was. Wilbur had never actually visited the residential area of the nation, he always found himself at the casino, the hotel, or the bars. He had no home here (or anywhere else, for that matter) and often slept in the hotel or in secluded areas that no one visited during the hot day after he’d been awake all night. It was a cruel schedule, but he managed. Even when he’d been trailing Quackity for those first couple of weeks, he’d never followed him home out of simple respect for the man’s remaining privacy. 

“You look surprised, haven’t you seen every inch of this place?”

“No.” Wilbur replied honestly, finding it amusing how normal they seemed compared to when they still had their deal. Just two guys being dudes, having a casual conversation while walking just a little faster than normal so they could get some actual privacy to have earth shattering sex. 

Quackity raised an eyebrow, sharing with himself a moment of surprise. “So, where do you live then?” He asked next. Wilbur bit his lip. Don’t say the hotel, don’t say the hotel, don’t say the hotel…  

“…Phil’s.” He said, very unconvincingly. Once again, Quackity looked surprised, but kept it to himself. By now, his place was in sight, the corner of one wood paneled wall sticking out from behind the row of houses to the two’s right. 

“You can move in with me if you want. Sam’s told me he’s seen you basically passed out in the construction sites, you know,” Quackity suddenly said, and Wilbur nodded, having known that his lie would have not gone unnoticed. “It’s pretty sad, really, Wilbur.” 

“That’s enough, Quackity, please. I accept your offer.” Wilbur muttered, and Quackity smiled slightly. “I’m gonna ask Schlatt the same thing, you know, whenever I see him next. Just so you know.”

“Our conversation has turned oddly civil.” Wilbur noted, and Quackity chuckled. “Well, of course, Wilbur, we’re in public.” He teased with a curt huff. Wilbur just rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Whatever.” He mumbled, letting the conversation drop as they were now trotting up to the door of the house, Wilbur’s previous anticipation returning in full. He felt his cock become fully hard as he imagined the things they could get up to, and absentmindedly palmed himself through his jeans as Quackity let him in. 

Wilbur didn’t even get a single second to admire the intricate design of the room they were in before Quackity had his arms wrapped around his waist from behind and his hands were pawing at the brunet’s pants. “You’re so hard already, haven’t even done anything yet.” He said, and Wilbur sighed out through his nose. “Then fucking do something.” He ordered roughly, looking down at Quackity’s hands. He watched them slide away from the tent in his pants, only for Quackity to move around to his front instead, dropping down to his knees. 

The shorter never even looked up at Wilbur, he just had his attention fully trained on his cock as he unbuttoned his pants and pulled it out, immediately wrapping his lips around the tip. “Hah— so eager, are we?” Wilbur groaned, his eyes drifting shut for a brief moment at the sudden sensation of the wetness around his cock. “Mmm..” Quackity moaned in response, the hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his already straining lips as he pushed himself further down. 

One of Wilbur’s hands found the back of Quackity’s head, and he lightly started guiding him up and down. Up and down along the length of his cock until Quackity started taking him deeper with every shallow thrust. Until Wilbur felt his member slide deep into Quackity’s throat and the man’s nose push against his pelvis. 

“Fucck, Quackity~” Wilbur moaned, his eyes rolling back in his skull for a moment. “Almost forgot how good you are at sucking my fuckin’ cock!” A second after the words left his mouth, Quackity pulled off of him with a loud cry of, “Fuck, you’re so big, Wilbur!” as a thick glob of spit and precum rolling down his chin, which he wiped off with his sleeve, gasping for air. He barely took five seconds to regain his breath before he took Wilbur’s cock in his mouth again, pushing himself until he had every inch down his throat before pulling off again. 

“Please fuck me, Wilbur, I can’t wait anymore!” Quackity begged, and Wilbur sunk his teeth into the inside of his cheek. He felt like he was seconds away from cumming, and so he grabbed onto a fistful of Quackity’s hair and pushed his head back towards his throbbing cock. “No. I’m gonna cum down your throat, after that, you have to beg for me to fuck you after your little stunt with the tears.” Wilbur practically spat, and he ate up the look that Quackity gave him. Disbelief and arousal and desperation in his eyes, with maybe a little shame or regret, he looked downright pathetic. So fuckable and so pathetic. And Wilbur loved it. 

Saying nothing more, Quackity let Wilbur push him back down again, rubbing his tongue along the length of his dick, hands clutching the fabric on Wilbur’s still clothed thighs. 

“Fuck~!” Wilbur gasped, grip tightening on Quackity’s hair. “Gonna cum!” 

Quackity let out a muffled sound and squeezed his eyes shut. Drool and precum spilling from the corners of his lips, he pulled off of Wilbur just enough to get his hand around the base of his member, now just putting all of his focus into swirling his tongue around the brunet’s tip, then just pressing his tongue flat against his slit and sloppily jerking him off until he came. 

“Ahh, fuck, oh— yess, feels so good!” Wilbur cried, throwing his head back as he rode out his orgasm, Quackity hastily attempting to swallow every drop of cum that shot into his mouth. 

After Wilbur caught his breath, Quackity fully pulled off of him as well, using a sleeve to wipe his mouth and looking up at the brunet expectantly. “Wilbur..” He whined. “Please, can you fuck me? Need it— pleasee…”

“I really don’t think you do.” Wilbur replied, still sounding out of breath. 

“I do!” Quackity insisted with slight frustration. Wilbur huffed patronizingly. “Do you, duck?” The hand on the back of Quackity’s head now fisted his hair even tighter as Wilbur jerked his head back, forcing him to look up at him. “You sure? You seemed eager enough to suck me off, I find it so hard to imagine that you could need anything more.” The brunet spat, smirking when Quackity released a needy whimper from behind clenched teeth. 

“I do, I really do, Wilbur! Please!” Quackity cried, squirming and whining in Wilbur’s grip. When Wilbur just scoffed at him like he was the most pathetic thing he’d ever seen, Quackity wanted to slap him. “I’m sorry about what I did earlier, sir, please just fuck me.” Quackity suddenly muttered, looking down out of embarrassment. “I’ll be a good boy, sir, just need your cock inside me.” And now Quackity wanted to slap himself for the way he was speaking. 

Wilbur sighed through his nose, and Quackity refused to meet his gaze, worried that after stripping away another layer of his pride for this tnt crazed ex—president, Wilbur would still say no to him. 

“How can I deny you when you speak so nicely?” Wilbur purred in a low tone, and Quackity felt his pulse speed up. 

And then Wilbur let go of his hair. Shoved him back onto the hard floor, grabbing onto his forearms, pinning him down. Quackity automatically attempted to free himself, but Wilbur just held him tighter. “Listen to me, duck, you’re going to do everything that I tell you to do or I swear to god I will leave you here hard and desperate.”

“But you said you’d never do that!” Quackity hissed, annoyed. Wilbur chuckled. “The contents of the deal are now invalid, sweetie, you said so yourself an hour ago. I can do whatever the hell I please.” He stated confidently, and Quackity bit back a sour retort, a small growl leaving his throat instead. 

“Come on,” Wilbur spat softly, moving down to drag his lips across Quackity’s neck. “Don’t be like that, you should be grateful I’m even doing this in the first place.” Quackity whispered something under his breath in response. 

Something that sounded suspiciously like, “You’re right.”

“What was that, baby?” Wilbur questioned.

Quackity shook his head. Wilbur looked up at him to see that he’d closed his eyes and pressed his mouth into a thin line. “Answer me.” Wilbur told him. Furrowing his brows and baring his teeth, Quackity shook his head again, rougher this time. “Fuck you.” He growled. Wilbur said nothing, he just moved back to Quackity’s neck, and then suddenly sank his teeth into his skin. 

“Ah—! Fuck! You’re right!” Quackity cried, jerking himself from Wilbur’s teeth as he threw his head to the side. Wilbur looked down at him now, cheek resting on the floor, and noted the wetness of his now half open eyes. He was already crying again. “You’re right, ‘m sorry, sir, ‘should be grateful…” He whimpered, voice barely audible. 

Wilbur huffed, and Quackity looked up at him, eyes flicking away from his face just as quickly, his cheeks turning red with embarrassment. “Atta boy, that’s all I needed to hear. That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?” Wilbur whispered. Quackity shook his head slightly, saying nothing but whimpering softly. 

“We were so feisty just a little bit ago, wonder what happened?” Wilbur then teased, leaning back down to now kiss Quackity’s neck, raising his hips and letting go of Quackity’s wrists so he could get at his waist, unbuckling his belt and then his pants. Wilbur slid a hand into Quackity’s pants and boxers, wrapping his palm around the heat of his cock. 

Quackity moaned, bucking up into Wilbur’s hand before being immediately grabbed by the throat. “Be a good boy and sit still.” Wilbur snapped, and Quackity’s breath hitched. His hands absentmindedly clawed at the floor, searching for something to grab onto. Wilbur’s hand wasn’t too tight around his neck, but the contact and the pain from where Wilbur had bit him was enough to make him fall still. Quackity didn’t speak, but this was apparently the wrong move, because Wilbur started to pull away. 

“Don’t stop! I’m sorry, sir, I won’t move again!” Quackity hastily exclaimed, and Wilbur smirked, continuing with what he’d been doing but placing his hand on the floor next to Quackity’s head rather than continuing to have him by the neck. “Th— thank you..” Quackity then muttered. He’d never felt more embarrassed in his life, and never once had he willingly been this submissive. If anyone was to ask, then he hated it, but the reality was that he loved it. Loved it and welcomed the chance to let someone else have full, 100% control for once, even if it was nightmarishly embarrassing. 

Wilbur hauling him to his feet snapped him out of his thoughts, and Quackity yelped when he was suddenly hoisted into the brunet’s arms, strong hands cupping the small of his back and one thigh keeping him balanced. “Where’s your bedroom?” Wilbur asked, and Quackity told him. He was silent as Wilbur followed his directions, upstairs, last room on the right, just letting the man carry him until they reached the room, when Wilbur opened the door and threw Quackity down onto the bed, mattress squeaking loudly in protest of the sudden weight. 

Quackity watched somewhat nervously as Wilbur closed the door behind him, locked it, and shrugged off his coat and then his sweater, leaving him in just a plain, dirt stained T—shirt and his pants and boxers. His jeans were still resting halfway down his thighs, but at some point in time Wilbur had pulled his underwear back up, and now Quackity found himself focusing on the outline of his half erect dick. 

“What?” Wilbur suddenly huffed, startling Quackity, who jumped slightly. “Are you just gonna stare or do you actually want this?” Quackity repositioned himself so that he was once again on his knees. He knew what Wilbur meant. What he wanted. 

However, Wilbur was also kneeling, and so Quackity, despite the urge to stop being the oh so submissive partner he was being, sank down to his elbows as well. 

Wilbur chuckled softly as Quackity yet again pulled his cock out of his pants, then sighed as Quackity ran his tongue along his length, licking a stripe from the base to the tip, before taking the head between his lips. 

Still rather sensitive, Wilbur kept his mouth shut to prevent the sounds coming from his throat from turning into whines, his eyes fluttering shut as Quackity proceeded to suck him off. It was a surprisingly (and for Wilbur, embarrassingly) short time before the brunet was completely erect again, but before he could get too caught up in the please from Quackity’s mouth, he nudged him off of him, grabbing his shoulders and hauling him up, then once again pushing him onto his back. Quackity hit the mattress with a grunt, springs creaking softly beneath him, and watched to see what Wilbur would do next. 

Wilbur, paying close attention to Quackity’s expression throughout the moment, practically ripped his pants off, throwing them to the floor with his other clothes. “You’re already leaking so much..” Wilbur taunted, bringing one hand up to circle his thumb across Quackity’s head, drawing a shaky gasp from his throat. “So fuckin’ needy.” Wilbur hummed, drawing his hand away. 

“You have any lube?” Wilbur then asked, and at first, Quackity was taken aback by the question, not expecting something that casual from Wilbur in the midst of this dominant arc, especially since the thought of needing lube had never once crossed his mind. They’d been fine using spit for the past however many months it’s been, why was that changing now? “Um,” he stammered. “I think so. Hang on—“ 

And oh god it was awkward as Quackity rolled over onto his side and started digging through the drawers on the bedside table. Since when had he put all of this shit in here? Why did he have government papers from so many years ago when he worked under Schlatt?? Where was the goddamn lube?!? 

“Do you.. need any help?” Wilbur asked upon seeing Quackity’s growing frustration. “No!” Quackity insisted, sitting up to slide onto the floor, crouching in front of the stupid thing and nearly ripping the drawers out of their sockets in his angered haste. 

Finally, he found it, a half empty travel sized bottle of lube that was wedged in a corner and buried under a pile of various papers that were now scattered on the floor. Further inspection would reveal them to be more old government papers, but Quackity would look at those later. 

“Here.” Quackity tossed the bottle to Wilbur, who barely caught it before it flew past his head, and crawled back up onto the bed, laying like he had previously and waiting for Wilbur to continue. 

Neither one said anything about what had just happened, or all of the paper and other randomly assorted objects now strewn across the floor by the side of the bed. Wilbur just silently poured a little less than half of what was left of the lube on three of his fingers, rubbing them together a bit to warm them up before he lined the digits up to Quackity’s hole. 

“You ready?” He asked, voice barely audible. Quackity nodded. “Yes, I’m so fuckin’ ready.” He replied, and so Wilbur pushed one finger inside. Quackity let out a loud exhale as if he’d been holding his breath and dug his fingers into the sheets below him. 

When Wilbur inserted a second finger, Quackity allowed himself to close his eyes. However, the moment was short lived, as Wilbur stopped moving his fingers and ordered in a sharp tone, “Open your eyes, you wanted this, you’re gonna watch me stretch you out.” Quackity complied, managing to make eye contact for a split second before looking down at Wilbur’s hand, moving back and forth as he thrusted his fingers in and out of him. Quackity’s eyes locked on the man’s wrist, moving up his arm, where small burn scars peppered his flesh. Caused by tnt most definitely. 

“Hnn~ fuck—!” Quackity gasped as Wilbur’s fingers found his prostate. The brunet smirked. “That feel good? Like that, huh?” He nearly spat. Quackity nodded, his vision beginning to grow fuzzy. “Yeah, right there! Fuck— there feels s’ good!” He stammered, practically gasping for breath as Wilbur pushed his third finger in as well and started curling them against that spot. 

Quackity was on the edge of bliss when Wilbur suddenly pulled his fingers out. The brunet tugged off his shirt, then the rest of his clothes. While Quackity wordlessly sat up to follow his lead, he found himself staring at Wilbur’s torso, where a large scar dominated a portion of his belly. Quackity could instantly recognize it as the stab wound gifted to Wilbur by his own father. The stab wound that took his last life in the final destruction of L’manburg. 

Wilbur knew that Quackity was staring, but said nothing. He’d never really let anyone see this scar before, but he trusted Quackity enough to not hide it. Besides, it wasn’t like nobody knew about the thing. Practically everyone had met Ghostbur, but everyone had heard about his death. 

Wilbur only interrupted Quackity’s gazing to grab onto him, gently repositioning him onto his hands and knees and reminding him of what they were doing. 

Quackity looked back at Wilbur, his own body obscuring the brunet’s hands as he squeezed the rest of the lube onto his dick and tossed the bottle aside. It clattered to the floor somewhere and Quackity swiftly forgot about it. Just another thing to clean up afterwards. 

Wilbur lined himself up, one hand sliding down Quackity’s back to rest on his shoulder blades, softly, just barely, pushing his chest down onto the mattress, and Quackity looked back at him expectantly. 

When Wilbur finally pushed himself into Quackity’s ass, he slid in easily, like a hot knife cutting through butter. “Shit..” Wilbur gasped. “No offense, but we should have used lube, like, every other time.” 

“Not offended,” Quackity replied, voice somewhat muffled as his cheek was pressed against the bed. “You’re so fuckin’ right.”

Without another word, Wilbur started moving, slowly rocking his hips and forth. Quackity let out a soft moan, and Wilbur leaned down, wrapping his arms around Quackity’s chest and pulled him up so that he was basically just kneeling, Wilbur being the only thing keeping him from falling. “Ahh~ f— fuck..!” He murmured, and Wilbur pulled him even closer so that he could rest his chin on Quackity’s shoulder, breath hot against his skin. 

Wilbur began speeding up his thrusts, the sounds of their skin slapping quickly filling the room, breathy moans and gasps accompanying them. Quackity’s hands found Wilbur’s forearms around his chest, and he held onto him for support, this new position allowing the brunet to thrust even deeper into him, cock rubbing against all of the right spots. 

“Hahh~ so good! Feels so good!” Quackity moaned, and Wilbur pressed his lips to the shorter’s earlobe. Quackity could feel him smirking and prepared for an earful. “You were so quiet earlier, that changed, huh?” He muttered. Quackity shuddered from the closeness of his voice to his ear, but didn’t reply. 

“Answer me, duck.” Wilbur demanded. 

“Mhmm,” Quackity whimpered, fully giving in now. “‘S ‘cause your cock feels amazing! Fills me up so good, sir!” 

At that, Quackity felt Wilbur begin to let go of him, and instead, he just pushed him back down onto the bed, one hand on the mattress, supporting his own body, while the other one held Quackity by the hair, keeping him pinned to the bed. Head turned sideways, Quackity watched Wilbur through tear—blurring vision. He felt like he was pumped full of adrenaline; no one had ever treated him like this, but fuck, he loved it so much. 

“You whine so much about my fuckin’ cock, like a bitch in heat that was made for nothing but making me feel good!” Wilbur groaned, fucking into Quackity even harder, who in response, let out a choked cry of pleasure. He gripped the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white, the almost overwhelming pain of Wilbur’s fist in his hair bringing fat tears to his eyes. 

“G— gonna cum...!” Quackity whimpered in a shaky tone, his voice cracking slightly. But Wilbur shook his head. “No you’re not,” he growled. “You can cum when I say you can.” 

“Please! ‘M so close!” He begged, but Wilbur wasn’t listening. He shook his head again. “Then fucking wait.” He spat. Wilbur then let go of Quackity’s hair and instead wrapped his hand around his cock, sloppily jerking him off to the speed of his thrusts. 

Quackity writhed beneath Wilbur. He was absolutely losing it, brain focusing only on the violent desire to cum, tears freely streaming from his eyes. “S— sir, pleasee—! Please lemme cum, wanna cum for you, fuck— ple—ase!” He sobbed, nearly trembling. 

Wilbur, in turn, apparently bent on making Quackity’s life hell at the moment, paid next to no mind to his desperate begging. He continued to fuck him and jerk him off at the same ruthless pace, only acknowledging that Quackity even existed outside of being used as a toy for him to get himself off by making eye contact for a brief moment. Around the harsh expression of pure want in his eyes, Quackity could easily make out the obvious adoration. 

With one somewhat shaky hand, Quackity let go of sheets to instead grab onto Wilbur’s wrist, knowing that he had to be squeezing him hard enough to draw blood, but he didn’t really care at the moment. Neither one of them did. 

“Please,” Quackity moaned out, Wilbur barely hearing him at first. “Please, Wilbur, can I cum?”

Wilbur exhaled heavily, closing his eyes. He looked as though he was seriously debating something, and then he leaned down to press himself flush to Quackity’s back, removing his hand from the mattress to tangle their fingers together. 

Eyes still closed, Wilbur nodded vaguely against the back of Quackity’s neck. “How can I say no to you when you look so fucking good?” He muttered. “You can cum… fuck, I’m gonna cum too!” 

Quackity shivered, finally allowing himself to fall to his wants, and he tipped over the edge, vision going white as he came with a ragged cry. “Ohh, yess! So good! So fuckin’ good! Ahh~!” 

No more than a second later, Wilbur came as well, squeezing Quackity’s hand so hard that he thought for a moment he’d broken it. “Shit, baby— fuuck..!” Wilbur groaned, and Quackity absentmindedly moaned, shuddering slightly, as he felt Wilbur pump his load into him. 

They were still for a moment, catching their breath, before Wilbur finally peeled away from Quackity and helped him sit up. Both were covered in a layer of sweat, and Quackity found himself wiping tears off of red cheeks for the second time that day. Unable to even meet Wilbur’s gaze, Quackity chewed his lip and mumbled, “That was really hot.” 

“..Yeah,” Wilbur breathed in response. He ran a hand through his hair, palm coming back twice as sweaty. “Um…”

“I didn’t you could be that fucking cruel.” Quackity said, and Wilbur laughed. “You liked it.” He replied, shooting Quackity with a knowing look. Quackity reluctantly nodded. “I did.” He stated after a moment, a blush creeping across his cheeks. 

There was a small moment’s pause. 

“Wanna cuddle or whatever?” Wilbur questioned, poorly attempting to sound nonchalant. Quackity snickered and nodded, pulling back the bed’s now dirtied comforter and tugging Wilbur towards him, settling the two of them underneath it. After a moment, Wilbur sighed contentedly, and Quackity felt him fully relax, arms wrapping around his torso. 

“So what are we gonna do about all of that?” Wilbur then wondered, gesturing vaguely to the rest of the room. Quackity assumed he meant the massive mess they’d made. “We can clean up later, now stop worrying about everything.” He replied, a little accidentally snappishly. 

“Back to your usual self again, I see.” Wilbur deadpanned. Quackity narrowed his eyes and scoffed, but he didn’t reply. Hardly a minute later, both of them were unconscious. 

Chapter Text

Quackity sat in a chair across a conference table from Sapnap and Karl. He didn’t know why they were here, only that they’d shown up an hour ago and Quackity had had to scramble to make the time to see them because it was ‘urgent.’

Wilbur and Schlatt stood off to the side of the large meeting room, watching the three carefully and awaiting further information on the situation. They were, thankfully, silent. 

“So,” Quackity started, folding his hands in front of him. “Why are you here? What’s happening?” Sapnap mimicked his position, looking as though he was deep in thought, trying to figure out what exactly to say. However, Karl spoke for him. 

“We came to ask about you, actually.” The brunet said softly, his slightly unsure voice being swallowed up by the mostly empty room. Despite himself, Quackity laughed under his breath, a little scornfully. “You made me throw away my day because you wanted to talk to me?” He asked. “I thought it was ‘ urgent.’”  

Sapnap huffed, cocking his head to the side. “That’s the only way I knew to actually get through to you; do you know how many times I’ve had Sam or your little pet slime tell me ‘Quackity’s busy’ or ‘Quackity can’t accept ‘visitors’ right now’?” He spat. Quackity shot him a glare. “Don’t you dare talk about Slimecicle like that,” he retorted. “And besides, I actually have been busy, believe it or not. Three men running a country as grand as Las Nevadas barely creates free time.” A smirk fell across Quackity’s face, and he leaned back in his chair, throwing a glance and a wink at the two men against the far wall. They looked surprised at this, but held their tongues. 

Sapnap scoffed, “They’re what you’re trusting to run this place with you? Two dead guys?”

“Two revived guys,” Wilbur corrected. “You don’t see Ghostbur running around here anymore, do ya?” He asked, spreading his arms in a vague, annoyed, gesture. 

“Soot, be quiet. Please.” Quackity grumbled, sensing that problems were going to start being caused. Wilbur scoffed and folded his arms across his chest. 

A moment of silence. 

“Told you not to call me by my last name.” 

The glare that Quackity shot Wilbur with could kill. “Be. Quiet!” He barked. Wilbur looked like he wanted to reply, but Schlatt leaned over to whisper something into his ear, and he grew quiet, visibly chewing the inside of his lip as a sulky expression overtook his complexion. 

“You were saying?” Quackity asked with mock sweetness, turning back to his now ex—fiancé’s with an obviously fake smile. Sapnap looked upset, mostly just annoyed, and Karl just looked out of place and nervous, like he was finally starting to realize that everyone in this room was losing their patience with each other far too swiftly. 

“Look, I’m gonna be honest here,” Sapnap stated. “I would like to spend the least amount of time here, as I can tell how welcome your little playthings are—“

Wilbur cut him off, his laugh echoing throughout the room. He clutched his stomach, bending over and barely managing to bring himself back to reality after a minute or two. Even Schlatt was chuckling a little bit. “You— you think we’re—?!” Wilbur cackled. “Oh, honey you’ve got it so wrong, he may run this fuckin’ show but we’re in charge, especially—!” Wilbur started, words spilling out of his mouth faster than Quackity had ever heard a person speak. Thankfully, Schlatt slapped his hand over Wilbur’s mouth before he could divulge the secrets of their relationship to people who really had no business hearing about it. 

Now, Sapnap and Karl just looked offended, and Quackity infuriated. He scoffed and looked over at Wilbur, Schlatt’s hand still around his jaw. “You have really got some nerve, there, Wilbur,” he said. “Running your mouth when you have no business talking… Anyways….” Quackity broke off to sigh, rubbing his temples before looking up again, making eye contact with Sapnap, then Karl, who broke it almost immediately. 

“Don’t listen to anything that he says,” Quackity sighed. “But you were saying something about how welcome we are? Well what can I do for you, Sapnap, Karl? What part of the Las Nevadas hospitality are we not giving you? You want free drinks? On me? I can give you a discount on a hotel room if you so please. You can really get a good night’s sleep in there, take it from me—“ At this, both Schlatt and Wilbur let out a knowing chuckle, falling silent just as quickly and earning a glare from their partner. Quackity continued, “—Personal tour of the place by yours truly? What is it?” He questioned, raising his hands into the air with a tight lipped smile. 

“What we want to know,” Sapnap replied. “Is if you’ll.. come home with us.” Quackity was taken aback. “Home?” He questioned, pushing his chair away from the table. “You mean the home that you built without even telling me?” 

“Yes,” Karl said, and at least he had the audacity to appear regretful. “We’re still fiancé’s after all…” Quackity almost laughed. 

“You left me behind. Left El Rapids behind. I’ll never forget that, and I could never make Kinoko Kingdom my home, Karl. Las Nevadas is where my heart is.” Quackity said softly, forcing himself to remain void of emotion.

“We’re still fiancé’s.” Sapnap told him, and Quackity looked down. He hated the hope in his eyes. He could see Schlatt and Wilbur staring at him out of the corner of his eyes. Awaiting his response. 

“—I want to ask you if you’ve moved on from those two… You never moved on from me…”

“No.” 

“What? No, what?” Sapnap asked with a somewhat worried and frustrated huff. 

“We aren’t fiancé’s. Not anymore,” Quackity told him, looking into Sapnap’s eyes with a hard expression. He was not going to allow himself to show any softness here. “When you let go of El Rapids, I let go of us… I moved on. I’m sorry.” He stated cooly, glancing over at Schlatt, who nodded ever so slightly. Unfortunately, Sapnap saw the gesture. 

Sapnap scoffed, narrowing his eyes, visibly angry. “So you’re fucking him?” He snarled, pointing harshly at Schlatt and nearly punching Karl in the face in the process. “Sapnap, calm down.” Karl hissed at him, but Sapnap wasn’t having it. “Because we took a little unplanned break?!” He spat. Quackity just smiled. “Oh, it’s more than that, Sapnap. They treat me very well. And ‘that little unplanned break’ of yours? How little is practically two years anyways?” He told him calmly. Sapnap grit his teeth and shot to his feet. “God, what are you, some kind of fucking slut?! Do you not realize how horrible of people they are?!” He snarled. 

“Sapnap! What the hell’s gotten into you?!” Karl barked, but his words went unnoticed.

Quackity narrowed his eyes. “I wasn’t a slut when I was with you two, was I? What changes? The fact that they’re not 100% human? Or are you just trying to get under my skin more than you already have?”

“Quackity, leave it be.” Schlatt warned in a low voice, looking between the infuriated Sapnap and far too calm Quackity with suspicion. 

“Shut it!” Sapnap barked at him, and now Quackity stood as well. “Don’t talk to him like that! You’re in my country, you obey my rules! Offend anyone here again and I’ll wager your blood would make a great decoration on my sword! I’ve been rather patient until now, but now you two need to leave! Karl, tell George that you two are welcome to come back as visitors, Sapnap, I never want to see you in Las Nevadas again.” 

“You can’t do that.” Sapnap muttered, and in a flash, Quackity had his sword out, the blood stained tip directed at his throat. “Try me. Now.. Schlatt, can you go get Sam and Foolish?” With a small smirk, the ram nodded. “Of course, sugar pumpkin.” He said, beginning to walk away, and Quackity huffed, a grin tugging on the corners of his lips. He debated saying something along the lines of, “Thank you, baby.” in reply, but decided not to milk the pet names only because he felt bad for Karl, who looked like he wished he could disappear at the moment. 

When Sam and Foolish arrived, it must have been a sight, but thankfully they said nothing other than politely ask for Sapnap and Karl to follow them. Karl was quick to comply, exiting the room with a small, sad but apologetic glance at Quackity, and Sapnap did too after one final malicious glare at the three. 

When they left, Quackity put his sword away and flopped down into his chair with a groan. “That went well.” He deadpanned. Schlatt sighed. “Yeah,” he agreed with a nervous laugh. “Jeez, I didn’t know Sapnap could get that fuckin’ riled up.” Wilbur nodded, walking over to the other two by the table. “Mhmm.. that went really great… until it didn’t.” 

“Whatever, at least it’s taken care of. Hey, since my schedule is magically cleared now, you guys wanna go get a few drinks? On me.” Quackity asked, and the two of them nodded thankfully. 

Wilbur walked out first, Schlatt falling behind to walk next to an exhausted looking Quackity. “I’m proud of you. For saying that.” He whispered to him, and Quackity nodded. “I wouldn’t have if it weren’t for you.” He replied, looking down. Schlatt put a hand on his shoulder, and they both stopped. Quackity expected him to say something further, but instead felt a calloused hand brush his bangs away so that Schlatt could plant a kiss on his forehead. “Thank you.” He mumbled, though he didn’t know for what. Schlatt smiled, pushing the shorter’s bangs back to their original placement. “I love you.” He told him, and then started walking again. After a brief moment, Quackity followed. 

By now, both brunets had the layout of the country more or less memorized. Wilbur led the way confidently to the nearest bar, holding the door open for Quackity and Schlatt, who walked past him with small words of thanks. 

When they sat down at the counter, the bartender turned to Quackity with a smile. A nice man, he was, Quackity thought. “What can I get for the leader of this fine country?” He asked in a playfully teasing tone. Quackity laughed slightly and gestured to the other two, who said what they wanted before Quackity did as well. With a nod, the man turned away to make their drinks. 

“You think they’ll cause any more trouble?” Wilbur wondered after a moment. 

“Who, Sap and Karl? Not as much as you did today.” Quackity retorted. Wilbur looked down, tracing a finger along a knot in the counter’s wooden surface. He looked oddly bashful. Schlatt scoffed and leaned over the counter to peer at Wilbur from Quackity’s other side. “We’re not being a brat for once? So strange.” He commented. Wilbur shot him a look. Schlatt returned it with an amused grin. “What did I tell you earlier? Huh? You cause trouble…” He trailed off, and Wilbur pursed his lips, looking annoyed. 

“What did you tell him?” Quackity turned curiously to Schlatt, who cocked his head to the side. At that moment, their drinks were placed in front of them. Schlatt and Quackity looked over as Wilbur swiftly downed a rather large swig of alcohol, then Schlatt turned his attention back to Quackity. “As appropriately as possible, I said we’d both ‘mess with him’ if he said something stupid. And I think that nearly telling Sapnap and Karl about certain things surely counts as one of the stupidest things he’s done.” Schlatt chuckled, and Quackity smirked. A glance at Wilbur showed him glaring down at the contents of another glass, swirling the liquid around like it was the most interesting thing in the world. 

“Well,” Quackity shrugged, taking a swig from his own drink, the bitter taste of beer coating his tongue. “Maybe he should have kept quiet like I told him to before the meeting started.” Schlatt snickered, and Wilbur spat something sour sounding under his breath. 

“Say that louder, would ya?” Quackity dared, raising an eyebrow at the brunet, who kept his mouth tightly shut. 

“That’s exactly what I thought.” Quackity added, and then the three fell quiet. It quickly became awkwardly silent despite the loudness of the other patrons. 

With a sigh, Quackity downed the rest of his drink, Schlatt following suit. Quackity asked for the check and looked over at Wilbur, who was barely halfway done with his. “Come on baby boy,” he mocked. “We gonna be here all night? You wanna take that home with you?”

“Shut up.” Wilbur retorted before knocking back the beverage. “Now you’re just turning into me.” Quackity teased, lightheartedly nudging his shoulder when Wilbur shot him a vicious look. “Oh, calm down,” Quackity leaned in close to whisper into Wilbur’s ear. “You look mad enough to kill me right now, but I know you don’t mean it.. sir. Finish up your drink and let’s go home, yeah?” 

“Y— yeah.” Wilbur replied with a small, surprised cough. 

They left, the sun having passed its highest point as they walked together back to Quackity’s residence, their residence. It was something, really, getting intoxicated at noon, but it wasn’t like they were dropping dead from alcohol poisoning, no, mostly it was just to get their minds off of the morning’s events. A simple buzz that would wear off in an hour or two. 

But it was more than enough. 

Chapter Text

When they walked into the house, a rush of cool air hit them, Quackity sighing with the relief of getting out of the day’s heat as Wilbur shrugged off his jacket. “Why do you always wear that thing? Isn’t it sweltering? The sweater too,” Schlatt asked, breaking off with a smirk to sidle up to Wilbur, hands cupping his waist before moving up, dragging the pale yellow fabric of his sweater with. For a moment, as his shirt also caught on Schlatt’s hands, Quackity saw the beginnings of his scar, but then Wilbur nudged the ram off with a scoff. “Can you keep your hands off of me for one second? We’re barely even past the front door.” 

“Maybe we don’t wanna keep our hands off you.” Quackity replied, walking up behind him as he’d done before. He let his hands slide up Wilbur’s front, underneath layers of clothing. The brunet shivered when Quackity’s hands met his chest. “Besides,” Quackity continued, standing on his toes to speak into Wilbur’s ear. “You weren’t complaining when I sucked you off in this. Very. Spot.” Quackity dropped back down off of his toes and let his hands drop. He then began pulling roughly at Wilbur’s belt, and the brunet huffed, tilting his head down and refusing to look at either man. “Fucking eager—“ He muttered. 

“Ah,” Schlatt spoke. “But you’re the one already practically hard. What have you been thinking about, Loverboy? How much we’re gonna fuckin’ ruin you?” He spat, pressing his face to Wilbur’s so that their lips were mere inches apart. Quackity heard Wilbur let out a shuddered gasp as he slid one hand down his pants, but whether it was because of Schlatt’s words or Quackity’s hand, the man didn’t know. 

“Mm, bedroom.” Wilbur muttered, and the other two pulled away from him. They practically bolted to the room, Quackity leading the way and hopping up two stairs at a time. Wilbur had barely gotten the chance to close the door behind them before Schlatt was pushing him down onto the bed. Wilbur hit the mattress with a grunt, springs creaking beneath the sudden weight as Schlatt also climbed onto the bed, placing himself over Wilbur and bending down to kiss and nip at his neck. 

Quackity, still standing, stared at them for a moment before snapping out of his thoughts and moving to the bedside table. He wordlessly loosened his tie and slid it off over his head, placing it on the tabletop before pulling a drawer open. He’d cleaned it out a few days beforehand, the day immediately after he and Wilbur had done it, but it was still a bit cluttered. 

“We gonna have a problem like last time?” Wilbur teased, turning his head to the side to smirk at Wilbur. Schlatt glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes, not pulling his face away from Wilbur’s marked up neck. Quackity scoffed. “No,” he said, taking out a new bottle of lube. “But if you wanna do it raw I can always put it back…” 

“No— no, don’t do that.” Wilbur hurriedly said as Quackity slowly started moving his hand back down, and Quackity snickered. “‘S what I thought.” He said more to himself than to Wilbur. 

Quackity then moved onto the bed, gently shoving Schlatt and Wilbur to the side to make some room for him. Schlatt sat up, took the lube from Quackity, and looked back down at Wilbur. “Strip.” He ordered, and Wilbur did. 

Clothes were tossed to the floor, landing in a messy pile next to the bed, until the brunet was completely nude. He crossed his arms over his chest, and Quackity’s eyes trailed down his body, once again landing on that scar on his stomach. “Jeez, feels like it’s freezing in here.” Wilbur commented. Schlatt snickered, raising an eyebrow at him. “That’s the wonders of AC sweetheart.” He jabbed. Wilbur scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

“I can always turn it off,” Quackity said, biting back a smirk. “Then it can be nice and hot and feel like actual hell in here.” 

“Yeah, and then we give ourselves a heat stroke because it’s over 100° outside and will get hotter than that after we have extremely rough and passionate sex.” Schlatt jokingly agreed. Wilbur, despite himself, laughed. Afterwards, the subject was dropped. 

“Hey Schlatt,” Wilbur hummed a second later, as Quackity began undressing as well. “Why don’t you take your clothes off too?” Schlatt bit his lip. He shrugged. “Dunno,” he muttered. “I guess I just don’t feel like it half the time.” 

“Well why don’t you now?” Wilbur asked. 

Quackity knew why. Schlatt had never let anyone see the scars on his arms. The same way Wilbur had never gone out of his way to let people see his scar, however, Schlatt’s had been around for much longer, and he wasn’t yet used to people knowing about them. “You’ll be fine,” Quackity told him. “If he says anything bad, I’ll kill him.” 

“What?” Wilbur yelped. Schlatt snickered. “Sounds like a plan, sugar,” he replied. “Wilbur, be careful now.” He was obviously teasing, but Wilbur truly didn’t fully believe it. Somewhat worried, Wilbur remained silent as Schlatt began unbuttoning his dress shirt. He paused when he got to the last button, but only for a second. Then, he slipped it off and let it drop to the floor with Wilbur’s garments. 

Schlatt held his arms up, and Wilbur stared. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t burn marks. “Oh,” mumbled the brunet. “I— I didn’t know.” 

“Just ‘oh’?” Quackity questioned, putting on a faux expression of annoyance. “Sorry, baby, but you better start running.” Schlatt scoffed and shoved Quackity playfully. His expression fell away to a joyful grin. Wilbur too chuckled. “Well, what did you say?” 

“He blamed me of withholding other things from him.” Schlatt said, and Quackity laughed, shoving the ram back. “Whatever, not denying it.” He said with a playful eye roll. “Yeah? What happened next?” Wilbur asked, tone dropping into a sudden slightly suggestive one. Schlatt smirked, tossed the lube, which he still held, into the air, caught it again, and leaned over Wilbur, hands catching his wrists as he pinned him down. “I fucked him senseless, and speaking of which, we still need to fuck you senseless.” He growled. 

The previous spirited mood had quickly dropped. Schlatt let go of Wilbur’s wrists and sat up. Wilbur stayed down, watching hungrily as Schlatt popped open the bottle of lube and squeezed a bit of it on his fingers. He had a certain look in his eyes that Quackity had never seen before. Something feral and reluctantly submissive and expectant all at once. Quackity assumed it was something only Schlatt could drag out of him and didn’t think about it further. 

Not fully knowing what to do, Quackity just sat back and watched as Schlatt spread Wilbur’s legs and lined his lube—slicked fingers up with his ass. “You ready?” He questioned under his breath, and Wilbur nodded, shooting a quick glance at Quackity before saying a quick, “Yes.” 

Schlatt pushed one finger inside of Wilbur and paused for a moment, allowing him to adjust to the feeling. Wilbur’s face screwed up for a moment, but a second later, he nodded for Schlatt to continue, and he did. 

Slipping another finger inside of Wilbur, Schlatt proceeded to stretch him out, thrusting the digits in and out and eventually added a third. Wilbur let out a breathy moan as Schlatt’s fingers dragged across his prostate, and Quackity felt his cock twitch in his pants, quickly becoming half erect. Hand practically flying to his front, Quackity palmed himself through his jeans, biting back moans as he continued to just sit back and enjoy the show. 

Then, Schlatt pulled his fingers out of Wilbur and grabbed him by the arms, hoisting him up. “You’re gonna ride me, got it? Can you do that for me?” Schlatt asked under his breath. Wilbur nodded, then looked over at Quackity, whose hand was still on his clothed erection. The brunet caught his bottom lip between his teeth and let his eyes trail across the shorter’s body, stopping at his waist. “What about him?” He questioned. Before Quackity could say anything, Schlatt did. “He’s going to fuck you from the back,” he said with a mischievous smirk directed at both of the others. “Unless you don’t think you can handle that?”

“I can.” Wilbur retorted swiftly, if not slightly nervously. “Yeah?” Schlatt replied. “What’s the safeword then? Just in case.” 

“‘Blue,’” Wilbur said. “Or I pinch one of you.” 

“Good. Now Quackity, clothes. Take them off.” 

Quackity complied, pulling his shirt off and tossing it to the floor, jeans and boxers quickly following as Schlatt also finished undressing, kicking his pants off as he maneuvered onto his back, Wilbur moving to straddle him. 

Quackity still didn’t really know what to do, as it had been ages since he’d topped someone, probably more than three years if he had to guess, but thankfully the others told him what to do. “Quackity, come here.” Wilbur told him, and he did, shuffling over until he was directly next to them. Schlatt reached out for him, one hand cupping his hip, and nudged him over until he was straddling the man’s thighs. Wilbur leaned back against him slightly, and Quackity let his hands rest on the brunet’s love handles as both of Schlatt’s hands ghosted along his thighs. “You two good?” He questioned. 

“Yup.” Wilbur muttered, and Quackity peered over Wilbur’s shoulder to nod. “Yeah, this is fine.” He said. “Good,” Schlatt replied, hands leaving Quackity to instead grab Wilbur and himself. “I’m gonna put it in then.” Wilbur nodded again and let himself relax. 

As Schlatt started to slowly thrust into him, Wilbur’s head fell back to rest on Quackity’s shoulder, a groan leaving his mouth. They remained like that for a minute or two, Wilbur adjusting to Schlatt inside of him, Schlatt letting him adjust, and Quackity waiting for further instructions. Soon enough, Wilbur gave them. “Put it in.” He whispered, head still back on Quackity’s shoulder so that his lips were practically right next to his ear. 

“What?” Quackity asked even though he had actually heard him. 

“Put it in,” Wilbur repeated. “Put your cock in me too.” 

“Are you sure?” Quackity asked. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to, he did, more than anything at the moment, it was just that his brain was screaming at him not to, because ‘that would hurt’ and despite what he might say, he didn’t want to hurt Wilbur. 

“Quackity, so help me, I will do it myself if you don’t. I’m sure I want it. More sure than I’ve ever been in my entire life.” Wilbur growled, and Quackity shoved aside his doubts and pressed even closer to Wilbur, a hand leaving his waist to wrap around the base of his cock so he could hold himself in place as he pushed in. 

“Hurry up.” Wilbur snapped, and Quackity shot him a glare, trying to ignore the way that Schlatt was watching them with amusement in his gaze. “Be patient, I’m going as fast as I can! You want me to seriously hurt you? Because that’s what’s gonna happen if I just shove my dick in you!” Quackity snapped back, further enunciating the word ‘shove’ by thrusting the tip of his dick into Wilbur, who grit his teeth to withhold a moan. 

As Quackity pushed more of himself inside, the three of them let out a unified gasp, Wilbur’s voice coming out rather ragged. “You okay?” Quackity asked him, pressing his lips to the brunet’s neck. Through his skin, he could feel his pulse racing. “‘M okay.. just— just hurts a bit.” Wilbur replied. Quackity nodded softly before finally bottoming out, then, he let Wilbur adjust again. In the time that the two were waiting for Wilbur to give some sort of cue that he was alright, he’d reached up to fust Quackity’s hair, the shorter groaning with the painful tug at his scalp. 

“You really know how to rip the hair out of my fuckin’ head, you know that?” He muttered. Wilbur smirked almost apologetically, already looking completely fucked out. “You want me to let go?” He questioned. Quackity sighed through his nose. “No.” He said after a moment, because it reality, he didn’t really care if Wilbur had a death grip on his hair. This time, Quackity would let it slide. 

“Move.” Wilbur breathed out after a moment. And they did. 

Quackity pulled his hips back, pulling almost all of the way out of the brunet before rocking back in, repeating the motion, gradually increasing his pace, as Schlatt used his hands to also guide Wilbur up and down. 

“Fuck~!” Quackity gasped, grip on Wilbur’s waist tightening ever so slightly. “God, it’s so tight!” Wilbur chuckled softly at this, eyes drifting shut for a moment. “Well, I’m sorry I haven’t been having a ton of anal sex recently, next time I’ll try not to strangle you.” He teased, and it took Quackity a moment to realize that that line was his own, and when he did, he scoffed. “Don’t use my own limes against me, Wil.’” He said, and Wilbur, around a choked moan, snickered, “I’ll do— fuck— I’ll do what I want.” 

“You sure about that?” Quackity challenged, suddenly snapping his hips forwards. Wilbur’s breath hitched at the motion, a shrill gasp being punched from his throat. “Because I don’t really think you will. You know what, Wilbur? You have a problem with not following orders. ‘Don’t say anything unless I ask you too, Wilbur’, and what do we do? Say something and fuck up a meeting that could have gone better than it did.” Quackity barked, and Wilbur whimpered at the harshness of his tone. 

Quackity’s hands trailed up Wilbur’s body until they cupped his chest. Then, one moved back down and wrapped around the brunet’s cock, Quackity’s other hand going up to lightly hold his throat. Usually so cocky and confident, Wilbur was now quickly coming undone. The two cocks inside of him rubbed against all of the right places, Quackity and Schlatt’s hands being tight but grounding on him, and everything was just so goddamn overwhelming in the best possible way. 

Never had he experienced something such as this; something as painful yet wonderful as his two boyfriends fucking into him. Schlatt laughed around a moan. “You really are something, Loverboy.” He commented, and, though Wilbur didn’t know the context, he smirked rather smugly. 

Then, Quackity caught Wilbur’s free hand with one of his, clutching his palm so hard it almost hurt, but Wilbur didn’t tell him to stop. He didn’t want him to. A moment later, Quackity was biting into Wilbur’s neck, dragging a shudder from the man. “Hahh~! Sh— shit!” Wilbur cried, eyes drifting shut. 

Quackity increased the pace of his thrusts, he was doing almost all of the work at this point in time, but he didn’t mind. He felt far too good to mind. “Fuck!” He groaned around Wilbur’s flesh. “Gonna cum!” 

“Shit, me too!” Schlatt gasped, and Wilbur nodded in agreement, head lolling off to the side, as he was too out of it to form coherent words. It was Quackity suddenly increasing the pace of his hand on Wilbur’s dick that did him in, and with a sharp moan and sudden buck of his hips, he came, cum spilling from his cock onto Schlatt’s stomach and Quackity’s fingers. 

“Ohh, fuck—! I’m cumming—!” Quackity moaned, barely getting the words out before he too reached his climax, cumming inside of the brunet with a heated cry of pleasure. Schlatt came hardly a second later, roughly pulling Wilbur down onto him with an almost feral groan. 

For a brief moment, the three of them didn’t move, coming down from their highs and catching their breaths. “Fuck,” Schlatt was the first to speak. “That was… that was fuckin’ hot.” Quackity nodded in agreement, and Wilbur was still busy trying to ground himself, putting all of his weight on Quackity, who just held him until he sat up straight, hoisting himself a few inches off of Schlatt on trembling legs and giving the brunet a chance to worm out from underneath the two, which he did. Quackity pulled out as well, and Wilbur felt their cum begin to slide down his thighs. 

Quackity got up, wordlessly leaving to go get water, while Schlatt pulled Wilbur down so that he was resting on his stomach. Schlatt sat up and began massaging him gently, feeling Wilbur relax beneath his touch. Quackity returned a moment later and sat back down beside Wilbur’s head. Schlatt accepted a glass of water Quackity had brought, and so did Wilbur, who, when he’d downed the whole glass, rested his head on Quackity’s lap. Quackity began absentmindedly playing with his hair. 

“Did you mean what you said when you said we helped you run this country?” Schlatt suddenly asked. Quackity nodded, cheeks flushing ever so slightly red with embarrassment. “Uh, yeah, I did. Another thing I meant to ask you guys. I just… forgot.” 

Wilbur huffed with tired laughter, looking up at Quackity through half lidded eyes. “You don’t have to ask anything, we’re with you no matter what you do.” 

“Yeah, well,” Quackity replied, sounding a little sad. “Communication is key…” 

“Hey,” Schlatt told him with a smirk. “We’re gonna communicate, you’ll see.” Wilbur chuckled at this. “Yeah, we’re gonna communicate so fuckin’ much.” 

“Yeah?” Quackity replied in a teasing tone. “Or maybe you just want an excuse to run your mouth?” 

“For your information, I’ll run my mouth whenever I want.” Wilbur replied cheekily. Quackity rolled his eyes. “Yeah, run your mouth over deez nuts, shut the fuck up Wilbur.” He laughed. Schlatt burst into laughter, and Wilbur snorted, lightly, playfully punching Quackity in the stomach in retaliation. 

There was a brief moment of comfortable silence, and then Quackity sighed. “Wilbur?” He questioned softly. Wilbur, who had closed his eyes and was inches away from sleep, opened them and looked up. “Hm?” He hummed. 

Quackity smiled down at him and ruffled his hair.

“I love you.”