“Well. You know me.” Eyebrow waggle, and then he pauses, collecting his thoughts. “It’s not— he doesn’t have a problem with the flirting. Other than not wanting to be there for it. He’s just… protective. Like a yappy dog trying to protect me from the mailman. He’s harmless.” Another pause. “You don’t know me, not really. I could be dangerous. Could do worse than an axe to the face.”

It kinda seemed like he had a problem with it but hey, Wilbur knows Tommy better than Q does. He's not pushing.

"It's true. I don't. You could indeed be dangerous. Is there some reason this is not also true of everyone else? Because if you're trying to tell me you think I should go be a hermit in the desert or something and never speak to another person again I'm not fucking doing that." 

“I was trying to flirt, that time. Quackity all on his own with the big bad Wilbur, what will everyone think, what could happen next.”

"Well, in that case." There isn't an obvious change in how he's holding himself, but he does look different. A little more self-assured, maybe. "Oh no. I'm being threatened by a handsome man. What am I going to do." 

Wilbur giggles, a high noise, hee-hee-hee!, before lowering his voice and trying to sound cool again. "Well, that's up to you, isn't it, big Q?"

He steps forward, into Wilbur’s space, looks up at him through his eyelashes. "Is it?" 

“Well.”

Wilbur’s taller than Quackity. It’s true of his Quackity and it’s true of this one. He’s not sure if he’s stronger or not, but he can use that height; he backs Quackity against the stone, puts his hands to either side of him, caging him in. And then he bends down and bites Quackity’s neck, hard, until he tastes iron.

(Quackity hadn’t liked that, in Pogtopia. Then again, that was a very different Quackity.)

Wilbur is welcome to back him against the stone. He's even welcome to cage him in, although that's only true because Q is, as previously mentioned, kind of stupid, and Quackity's visibly nervous about it. But well before he gets to the point of drawing blood Quackity's going "stopstopstopstopstop," hands scrabbling up to Wilbur's hair to pull him away. 

Wilbur does, in fact, stop. Not only that, he immediately kneels and shoves his sword into Quackity’s hands. 

Okay. Okay. He's okay. He's okay. You can ask for things to stop and they will stop and you will not be hurt for it and they will stop. They will stop. 

He said stop, and Wilbur stopped. Both times, now, he's stopped. 

He points the sword down— still in his hands, not about to hurt anyone. "Okay," he says. Breathes deep. In, out. "Rule number one. Do not fucking do that. If— if you want to touch me, you have to ask." 

Wilbur had, at some point, squeezed his eyes shut. He’s not sure when.

He doesn’t realize he had been bracing for pain until it doesn’t come. He opens his eyes and he is still in Paradise, just outside Las Nevadas, and the sun is bright like a halo behind Quackity, and he is not in a train station. 

Good. He hadn’t wanted to go back, not— not really. He’s glad he’s out. 

(Quackity’s not pointing the sword at him. Half of him wants to grab it back. The other half wants to grab the blade, pull it towards himself until he’s impaled, except for how it’s not a fucking escape, nothing is, just endless fucking train station—)

He doesn’t grab the sword, hilt or blade. He blinks against the sun. Right. Yes. Quackity. Words. No touching. Huh, he had expected to get a fuck off, Wilbur, but not—huh. Well. Different Quackity, after all. Asked and answered.

“Like a museum piece.”

In, out. In, out. "No," he says, "not like a museum piece." His hands are shaking. Maybe he should not be holding a large object that is also a weapon. On the other hand he's pretty sure if he puts it down he'll immediately have a panic attack, so. "Like a fucking person. Who has preferences about whether or not you bite them, which you need to find out before you do it." 

Yeah Wilbur is also kind of out of it at the moment. “Are you going to kill me? I might come back, you know. Already did once. Haven’t— completed my character arc.”

In, out. In, out. Breathe. It's alright, love, you're alright, says the part of his brain that speaks in his Wilbur's voice— no, shut up, hey, babe, it's okay, I got you, says the part that speaks in Sapnap's— some part of him, wildly, stupidly, thinks it smells smoke— 

"I am not," says Quackity, "going to kill you."

“No? Gonna punish me? Come on, Quackity. Wouldn’t it be fucking satisfying?” He goes to grab Quackity’s wrist, remembers himself, leaves his hands hovering in the air, asking without asking. “Don’t you want to make me fucking suffer?”

That, at least, is easy to answer. "No."

Wilbur rocks back on his heels a little, like a marionette going limp. His hands fall to his sides; a gust of breath leaves him all at once. “Fine. Don’t dirty your hands, then. You’re— you’re interesting, other-Quackity. I stand by that.”

He puts the sword away, into his inventory. "Don't suppose I can get you to tell me what that means?" 

(It’s a stone sword. Not very good, but better than nothing.)

“I can’t tell what you think of me or how similar you are to— the Quackity I’m more used to.”

Look. He is not evaluating how good his weapon is. He has one. He hasn't been allowed to go around armed since the arena and now he is and that matters. 

"...guess that's fair enough. Hell knows I can't tell what you're thinking either."

“I know it’s not really fair, to be comparing, but it’s—hard not to, you know?”

"Yeah. I do." If Wilbur didn't have the face and voice of his closest friend— doesn't bear thinking about. 

“I’m going to stand back up now, alright?” He is minimally shaky about the whole endeavor, even. Plays it off casual, calm. The adrenaline’s pumping and it’s exhilarating, it’s awesome, he wants Quackity to be holding the sword again, he wants to stay on this high forever. He feels fucking alive.

"Sure." He does, however, step away from the wall. Having his back to something solid isn't worth being that easily pinned. 

That’s fine. Wilbur holds his hands up. “I’m unarmed.” (He’s got materials for another sword if he needs it in his inventory. And he has TNT and materials for a button. Not the point.)