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Quackity was never used to affection.
He wasn't used to someone holding his hand, softly squeezing it whenever they saw he was tense. He wasn't used to the soft kisses pressed against his face when he awoke. He wasn't used to being cuddled, to bask in the warmth of someones arms. Quackity wasn't used to it because it wasn't what he gave him.
What Schlatt gave him.
Schlatt wasn't an affectionate person when Quackity was alone with him. He only was outside of their private quarters. He would pull Quackity to his side when people were near, his arm uncomfortably wrapped around his waist, squeezing him like people would steal him away.
When they were alone, he was different.
Schlatt would eye him up and down, a brown bottle pressed against his lips. He would lean his head back slightly, letting the liquid fall past his lips into his mouth and he would swallow the drink, burping as he slammed the bottle against the table so hard Quackity was afraid the bottle would break.
Whenever glass hit wood, Quackity would jump a bit, his eyes glued to anywhere that wasn't Schlatt. Schlatt would then walk up to him, his hooves making a loud noise whenever they'd hit the floor. (Quackity hated the noise. Schlatt didn't care though, Quackity doubted he even knew.) He would hold Quackity's face by the jaw, forcing Quackity to look at him. His breath always smelled of the disgusting alcohol he would down like water, his eyes burning a hole through Quackity.
"You're getting flatter," He whispered, almost like Quackity needed a reminder, "you should start doing more squats." A smile would grow on his face when the shorter would nod and then his hand would loosen, moving its way to Quackity's cheek, patting it hard enough to make Quackity flinch, his eyes squeezing shut. Whenever he would open them, Schlatt was gone, the only stuff there to prove he was there being a discarded bottle and the smell of alcohol.
There were worse times though. There were times when Schlatt would get pissed, taking it out on Quackity and Quackity would have temporary bruises scatter his body, making new excuses whenever people asked, earning him a worried look and a soft answer before the topic was dropped.
There were other times when Schlatt would quickly make his way to Tubbo, insults coming from his mouth as he searched for his son. Quackity would race to make it to Schlatt, his feet hitting the ground with loud thuds as he desperately looked for Schlatt. When he dd, he would take the blame and the hits that surely would've made their way to Tubbo if he wasn't quick enough. Afterwards, Quackity would go to the shaken up kid, giving him a soft smile and he would envelope him in a hug, his wings wrapping around them as extra protection. Whispered promises would fall from his lips as he held Tubbo close to him, waiting until he would calm down.
After Schlatt died, the memories still stayed. The memories of Schlatt's hand reaching Quackity's skin, leaving marks and bruises. The memories stayed even after Quackity got over Schlatt, the memories stayed whenever he was happy, sad, jealous, angry. They haunted him, constantly reminding him of Schlatt. They appeared in his worst nightmares, appeared when someone next to him moved too fast, making him flinch and leaving him terrified.
Two people entered his life after Schlatt, making themselves known as Karl and Sapnap. They made Quackity happy, soon showing him that they weren't like Schlatt, that they weren't a ticking time bomb that exploded when he was alone with them. They promised him things, slipping a ring on his finger that made Quackity's heart flutter whenever he saw it. They held him, kissed him, cuddled him, and stayed with him whenever the storm of memories Schlatt graced him would catch up, reminding him of stuff he wanted to forget forever and his fiances never left his side, instead they would lay on their shared bed. Karl would lay on his side, his head propped up by his hand while he hummed a soft tune, moving Quackity's hair out his face when Quackity would lay next to him. He would feel Sapnap slide in bed next to him, his arms wrapping around Quackity's torso as he placed a kiss against his neck. They would lie there until Quackity's mind drifted away from Schlatt and he would feel himself doze off to the sound of Karl's humming.
Quackity was never used to affection, but maybe he could be.