Fics like A Dreary Haze Hangs Over Them

"Wilbur," Quackity sighs, pursing his lips. "What are you trying to do here?" Will merely grins. "You're not answering my question." A taunt hangs in his voice, his shadowed features hanging with mockery. "No, what are you trying to do-?" "Answer my question." "Wilbur, what are you trying to do?!" "No, Quackity, what are you trying to do? Why are you being petty?" Quackity steps back, his eyebrows pressing together, "I'm not being petty. I'm trying to run a country, run a country the right way." "You are, you are," Wilbur chides, eyes glinting as closing the gap Quackity had created between them in a few strides of his long legs, "You're being petty and I love it." He places his palms on the sides of Quackity's face, his fingers sliding behind his ears. Wilbur forces Quackity to meet his gaze. "I— I'm not being petty, I'm not," he chokes out a small laugh to cover his nerves. He was losing what he'd earned again. He was getting fucked over again. Quackity forces in a slow breath. "What makes you think I'm being petty exactly?" "Big Q, listen to me. The next words I want to hear out of your mouth are a yes or no."

Fics like A Dreary Haze Hangs Over Them

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