Quackity yawned as he stretched slowly, sighing softly before letting out an exhausted noise. He was finally done with the day, and he looked down for a moment before standing up and walking back to his penthouse. He picked up his phone and called Wilbur, humming to himself as he smiled lightly. "Hey, hun. Do you mind coming over? I'm kinda bored, and I want to spend time with you. I can provide drinks and stuff, even nesting materials if that's what'll make ya happy." He shook out his wings with a soft grumble as he looked back at them uncomfortably, sighing quietly. "Hope I see ya soon."

Wilbur had been contently enjoying his evening cooped up inside the Needle, quietly flipping through what used to be his old journals from before he was exiled from L'Manberg and the ones he would scribble inside of as a ghost. As a result, he was uncharacteristically calm, though in a good way, taking a second to pick up his phone when it rang. "Of course, I don't mind. I'll be there in a few," The mockingbird answered with a soft chuckle, leaving the conversation at that while he hung up before neatly gathering his things, taking one more moment to calmly gaze out the windows. He made his way to Quackity's penthouse after collecting and bundling up his old journals, softly knocking on the door when he arrived, letting a gentle smile grace his features as he, for once, patiently waited for the door to be answered.

Quackity was trying to preen his wings on his own, but he perked up as he looked over at the door. He scurried over and opened the door with a soft smile, hugging him tightly as he smiled wider. "Hey, Wilbur!! How are you doing?" He asked as he backed up, putting his arms behind his back while trying his best not to ruffle out his wings uncomfortably. There were old dead feathers in his wings that he couldn't reach, and he pulled him inside gently as he smiled happily. "Come on!!" He chirped out, pulling him over to the couch while plopping down onto it. "What kinda drink do you want?"

Wilbur smiled a little wider, pleasantly chuckling at how excited Quackity appeared and sounded, sitting down at the couch he was dragged over to. He hummed out as he set his small armful of journals down on the coffee table, quietly eyeing the other avian's wings, taking note of how scruffy they looked and how badly they evidently needed to be preened in some areas. Wilbur didn't comment on it quite just yet though, "Do you have a gentle whiskey by chance? I don't feel like having anything too strong right now," He answered with another hum, taking a second before adding onto his answer. "Some honey and lemon would be great with it as well if you don't mind, duckie."

His eyes glimmered as he looked up at him, quickly standing up to put the drink together before setting it on the coffee table in front of him. "Here you are, mockingbird!" He chirped out, humming as he smiled at him. He would never truly admit it to himself, but he was excited by the idea that they could just...cuddle. Snuggle together. Maybe even preen their wings together, or maybe each other's wings? He wasn't sure then, getting stronger alcohol for himself but planning on nursing it slowly while sliding in to sit on the couch next to him. "So...how are things with you?"

Wilbur leaned forward to grab his glass, sipping at it blissfully for a moment, relaxing as he let his head fall back into the couch and closed his eyes, letting a moment of content silence pass before he responded. "Things are pretty good if you ask me. I spent the morning with Tommy, Fundy, Yogurt, then I decided to pay Kinoko Kingdom's library a visit, and ended up looking through my old journals after taking them back... Nothing too special." He replied, lifting his head up and looking down at he who sat next to him. "How about you? Anything noteworthy or just the same ol' paperwork and meetings?"

"Just the same old shit." He sighed as he sagged into the couch, yawning as he closed his eyes with a soft groan. "It gets so old so quickly, amorrrr..." He whined while leaning his head back as well, chugging down the first glass of the drink he had with a gentle sigh. He sat up only to shake his wings out with a soft groan, clearly uncomfortable as he stretched the golden wings out. They caught the light streaming in the windows gently, almost seeming to make the gold more prevalent in the feathers as he looked over at him. Discomfort rested in his stance and eyes as he gave him a look that almost seemed to be begging for help.

Wilbur laughed out gently, setting his half-finished drink back onto the coffee table, "Awh, does Mr. Duckie President dislike the job he gave to himself? You poor thing, your life sounds [i sooooo] difficult." He teased lightheartedly with a chuckle, making sure his sarcasm was evident in his voice as to keep things peaceful between the two; he would rather not go back to being at one another's throats, even if he thought an angry Quackity was admittedly hot. Wilbur quietly eyed his wings once again, not providing any further sarcastic teases as he tugged Quackity a little closer before humming a soft tune to himself and preening his golden wings for any old, dead feather he could find.

A gentle chirr escaped him as he was pulled close, his wings softly beginning to fluff out in order to feel a bit more comfortable. He sighed happily as he scooted close to him, letting out a soft sigh. "Shut up..." He mumbled gently, spreading his wings out fully before sighing and nuzzling his cheek with a soft smile. "Thanks though." Was all he said before resting his head on his shoulder and closing his eyes, swallowing as he sighed out comfortably. He felt like he was gonna fly mentally, feeling Wilbur's hands picking through his feathers and softly kissing his cheek as he purred. "I appreciate it, Guero."

"Don't mention it, I know just how annoying [i these] can be, especially so when you can't get them yourself," Wilbur murmured out softly and slowly, most of his concentration being poured into the task at hand, as preening was not something he was magically naturally good at simply because he was an avian. He quietly worked away and sifted through the golden feathers, still humming out his favourite tune, going back over every area he went through just in case he had missed anything. Wilbur took his sweet time, ensuring he got every last dead, old feather he could possibly get, discarding all he was able to gently pluck. "There you go, you're all better now. Did I miss any?"

"Much better..." He mumbled out as he let his feathers ruffle out a bit, yawning softly and beginning to make himself comfortable on Wilbur's lap. Another gentle yawn escaped him as well as a soft chirr, whistling out a tune and smiling as he laid his head on Wilbur's shoulder. "I don't feel any more...thanks again." He nuzzled into him before kissing him in happiness. "Mmm~..." He giggled lightheartedly, feeling their lips pressed together for a moment before sighing and closing his eyes as he relaxed. "Need me to go ahead and preen yours?"

Wilbur hummed out once more, leaning forward to grab the half-finished drink he had set down earlier, swirling it around in the glass for a second before downing the rest of its contents with a gulp. "I can't exactly [i feel] them, hun, so I don't see the appeal of doing so unless it's for clean looks. Plus, they're a matted mess, you'd only struggle more than you needed to." The mockingbird stated, taking a glance back at his own wings, his face turning slightly sour at the sight of nearly how matted and tangled the feathers had managed to get. "I mean... If you'd [i like] to, then feel free. I won't stop you, that's for sure, but thank you for the offer regardless. That was very kind," He added on as he pressed a kiss to Quackity's forehead.

Quackity stared at him before wiggling out of his arms and coming over to sit behind Wilbur, beginning to run his fingers through the feathers as a gentle sigh escaped him. He knew that they were pretty bad, but at the same time, he didn't care. Wilbur had done this for him, so he was gonna return the favor. His eyes glimmered with determination as he began to work, plucking out and picking at feathers in places they shouldn't be in, making sure to be careful near the base of his wings since the mockingbird didn't need his wings accidentally pulled out. That would hurt, mind you, and Quackity could probably stop before he did permanent damage to him, but he decided to still tread lightly for, if nothing else, his own comfort.

Wilbur fiddled with the empty glass he held, running a finger around the rim a few times as he sat still and tried to comfortably stretch his wings out with the hopes that would make things easier for the other. He sat silently, aside from the barely audible humming of his ex-nations theme, enjoying the soothing moment for what it was worth. While he couldn't exactly enjoy the feeling of his feathers getting put into their proper places or relish in the satisfaction of being plucked free from the dead ones, he could, and [i did], wordlessly appreciate the fact Quackity took the time to do so regardless if he could feel the difference or not. It brought a small smile to his face, earning Wilbur to hum his beloved theme just a little louder to himself.

Quackity smiled and began to sing softly, closing his eyes as he plucked feathers. "I heard there was a special place, where men could go and emancipate...The brutality and tyranny of their rulers. Well, this place is real, you needn’t fret. With Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, fuck Eret, a very big and not blown up L’Manburg." He started, then smiled more when he fondly remembered how much Wilbur had loved that nation. "My L’Manburg...My L’Manburg...My L’Manburg...My L’Manburg...For freedom and for liberty, our nation sought to build on these. A victory for all under our freedom...well the darkness came and then it went. We built a home and watched it sink, and from the rubble emerged my great L’Manburg. My L’manburg...My L’manburg...My L’manburg...My L’manburg. With bloodied hands and weakened knees, our peoplе rose like the phoеnix! Our empty fields and canals ‘round L’Mantree! With sweat and tears, we armed our ranks, we laid foundations in our land and from every lips for here up to infinity! We sing L’Manburg...We sing L’Manburg...We sing L’Manburg...We sing L’Manburg...~"

Wilbur's smile was easily moulded into a grin, happy to hear Quackity sing to the song he hummed along to, let alone that it was one of the songs he held closest to his heart. Guessing; no, that wasn't quite right. Rather, deciding; that the other avian was close to finished preening his wings, he shuffled the two around so that Quackity was sitting in his lap, not giving two fucks about any protest he was given. "Mmm, pretty duckie singing my song with a pretty voice, sounds like heaven to me...~" He murmured out happily, swarming Quackity with kisses anywhere he could plant them while he held him close.

A soft squeal escaped him as he pushed his face away playfully, giggling and nuzzling into him for a moment before laying his head on his shoulder. "I used to hear a simple song...That was until you came along. Now in its place is somethin' new, I hear it when I look at you. With simple songs, I wanted more. Perfection is so quick to bore. You are my beautiful, by far, our flaws are who we really are...I used to hear a simple song...That was until you came along. You took my broken melody. And now, I hear a symphony...And now, I hear...A symphony..." He sang softly as he ran his fingers through Wilbur's hair gently, smiling at him while making sure Wilbur's hair wasn't too badly tangled.

"I didn't know you were so much of a romantic as to sing me songs, Big Q, how adorable," Wilbur softly teased with a chuckle and a playful half-smirk, pressing another kiss to his lips without giving the song much respect to let it soften out and come to an end. Hey, if he wanted to kiss Quackity, he was [i going] to kiss Quackity regardless of what theoretical costs it took nor the consequences of doing so. Sure, it got him into a bit of trouble sometimes, but it was all fun and games, in his opinion at least.

“Hey, shut up, you sing to me all the time.” He grumbled, then kissed him again as his little duck tail wiggled in his mild happiness. Quackity knew he was ready to just snuggle and kiss Wilbur until the sun went down, but at the same time, he didn’t want to seem…desperate? Was that the word for it? He wasn’t entirely sure, and his wings dropped a bit at the ideas filling his mind. He shook his head and glomped the mockingbird in order to make him fall back a bit, kissing him again.