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Duck Kisses

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Glomgold watched the sleeping form on the bed.

“This is ridiculous.”

He glared at Scrooge. Maybe that'd work.

No such luck. Scrooge remained trapped in the magical slumber.

Glomgold glanced around guiltily. And felt even more foolish. It wasn't like they hadn't kissed before. Damn, they had had sex.

He really was being ridiculous.

What did he have to lose? It wasn't like there was anyone around to even see his failure at this point. Everyone else had fallen prey to the magical sleep by now.

He cupped Scrooge's face.

“Time to wake up you miserable penny-pincher.”

He kissed him.

Glomgold pulled back. Nothing.

Scrooge was still unconscious.

Flinty let out a pained laugh. Of course it wouldn't work. Why had he even entertained the thought that it could? He shook his head, already starting to feel the effects of the spell. He too was about to fall asleep, just like the rest of Duckburg.

“So, I couldn't do it. Of course I could not.”

It wasn't like he fit the role of a fairy-tale prince.

Or was really capable of... Love...

Flinty rubbed his temples and yawned.

“Move over, Scroogey.”

He climbed onto the bed, next to Scrooge. He was still warm, and when Flinty listened he could hear his faint breathing. He had never been this still before though...

Flinty reached an arm around Scrooge and buried his bill into his neckfluff.

It was nice... Soft and warm...

“I'm... sorry. Maybe if you had... Chosen someone else you-”

He left the thought unfinished. Scrooge was right there, next to him. Flinty could almost imagine this was just one of those times he had stayed at the bin for the night. It would be nice if it was, if he'd wake up next to him. And keep waking up next to him. Every day.

He really wanted to... He hadn't really thought he did... Part of him had just always waited for this relationship to just fall apart. The moment of Scrooge finally realizing this had been a mistake.

It was getting harder for Flinty's increasingly sleepy mind to think. At least he was together with Scrooge. That felt good and right. And maybe it had really been... all along? Flinty snuggled closer and planted a soft kiss on Scrooge's neck. And for a fraction of a second Glomgold fullheartedly believed in love.

The magic flowed free, pulling at the soul of the sleeping duck, dragging him from his slumber.


Flinty opened his eyes. “S-Scrooge? You're fine?”

“What? Of course I am? Why are you in my bed? Fully dressed? Why is my bin full of dead plants?”

Glomgold pulled him into a kiss. “Welcome back, you idiot. What a wonderful mess you've caused this time.”

Scrooge frowned. “Why are you smiling like that? Are you ill?”

Glomgold jumped down from the bed. “Hm? You must be imagining things. It's true what they say; old age doesn't come alone. You got the whole city wrapped up in some magical nonsense of yours. I believe there was a dragon. According to your nephew anyway. So it was probably just a slightly agitated turkey.”

“I remember... A spell. What was this all about? What woke me up?”

Flinty shrugged. “You want to know? I leaned in veeery close to whisper in your ear: 'I guess this makes me the richest duck in the world' and you dragged yourself awake through the supernatural sleep out of pure spite.”

Scrooge gave him an odd look. “Hm. Okay. That sounds plausible.”

Flinty walked to the door. “I'm sure half of Duckburg will be here soon, hopefully not with pitchforks. So I'll take my leave. Have fun cleaning up the mess you've made.”


Glomgold stopped.

“I guess just... Bye. See you,” Scrooge said.

Flinty almost turned back. What exactly he had felt was like a vague memory of a dream now, but...

He'd need to think about it on his own first.

So he stepped out of the office, and closed the door behind him.