Wheatley&Vinyl - Preening

[Wepon]

Aftermath of this fic, after which Wheatley proceeded to get into an argument with Uguns and break his hand.

Wheatley. New years had come and passed, leaving Wheatley alone again, i not in the company of another. Vinyl had been the one he'd comforted, when the household around them had erupted into a fit of whoops and hollers quickly snuffed out with New Years kisses and small wishes spent on grapes and sparkling champagne. And even so, Wheatley had found a way to piss off the wolf's 'lover' and get his knuckles shattered. Oh how it'd ached, the shards of metal sticking out of the silicon skin as the vital liquid that housed his nanobots stained the tile. With a shaky visit to Turquoise, Wheatley had quickly been rushed to the hospital, the shrapnel of bones and blood removed and hastily patched up by doctors who'd never seen quite a case such as this. With his hand a mess of cotton, dried blood, and a whole lot of hurt, the robot had taken back to slumping glumly upon the couch, eyes still red with lack of sleep and shed tears. Every once and awhile, would his gaze wander, staring upon the burnt scars on his opposite hand. A shuddery gaze flew free from his mouth, and eyes scrunched shut. He'd done so much and now, he was alone. Like always. Sighing pitifully, he shrunk down in the brand-new couch, eyes shutting as he whimpered, arcs of pain trailing up his knuckles. So much for new beginnings.

Vincenza Staccato. New Years were supposed to be the time in which the bad times were the past and the good times were to be held in the future. Vinyl swore the people who stated that were complete and utter liars. She walked slowly, hands shoved roughly into her pockets as her eyes looked up and down the streets, staring at the used firework shells and sparkling glitter splattered nearly all over the area. She wore simple jeans and her signature binary jacket, her hair still placed in all its curly beauty. She hadn't even bothered straightening up last night after she returned home, wanting nothing more but to slump in her bed and curl up, crying freely and painfully to sleep. She felt horrible. Hollow. Dead. Her nose scrunched up at the irony of it all, sighing deeply. Wings were the only thing that wasn't in its beautiful form, feathers sticking out messily if one were to look at her back. Stress did quite a thing to the female, her features being affected drastically, they were falling out, much to her dismay, and she swore she left a few feathers in her wake as she shuffled up the steps to the too familiar house. She didn't even bother knocking, body and mind too much in a tired buzz as she opened the door. She peered in, voice scratchy and tired as she spoke. "Hello?"

Wheatley vaguely noticed the sound of a door opening, though it mostly fell on deaf auditory receptors as he shifted his position on the couch. Clapping his hands over his ears, a groan followed by a solitary grunt was his sole reaction. However, when the voice was identified, a stunted gasp escaped his throat. Vinyl? Was it really her? Something ill turned in his stomach, making him want to upchuck his already emancipated food. Was she angry at him for going off like that? Eyes shut, breathing shaky as he threatened to be overtaken by the heat building in his chest. Deep breaths, deep breaths. At once, did his eyes open, the light searing at the back of his eyeballs as he looked up to be met with the anthro's figure. He would've been lying had he said her appearance hadn't caught him off guard, not used to the hair she wore around her face in curly ringlets. Face fell, realizing what sort of mess he must've looked like. His hair was disheveled, and he'd barely cared to even take a shower since getting gussied up, changing into a frayed sweater vest and slacks. "'Ello, luv." He murmured, voice sounding broken as one hand moved to cradle his injured one.

Vincenza Staccato. Eyes instantly fell on the figure on the couch, the female shuffling through the door and closing it behind her with a quiet click. She felt unwelcomed here, for some odd reason. Hands were shoved tightly into her jacket as she walked stiffly over to the male, feeling completely out of place. Eyes stared at the ground for only for a moment, before the female sighed and flopped on the seat beside the male, deja vu falling over her like a thunderstorm. She ignored the one or two feathers that were riled up from the action, the female closing her eyes, if only for a moment. Bags hung under her eyes like a murder of crows flocking an area, noticeable on her snow white fur. Hands were at her sides as she finally opened her eyes, gaze falling on the male's injured hand. She grimaced slightly, remembering what transpired from it. "How's your hand?" she murmured quietly, toying with a stray feather of hers idly.

Wheatley barely shifted when the female sat- no, threw herself down next to him, simply turning to heave himself upwards into a sit. Yawning, the rush of air did a good job of cooling off his systems, though his processors still felt on fire as he struggled to think straight. Eyes boredly fell to his hands, regarding the bandages with little interest past observing how they covered his ghastly wounds. "Yeh. S'fine, just 'urts somethin' fierce." An estranged whimper fell free from his mouth, sending the male's face collapsing before he looked over to Vinyl. Mouth opened to speak, before eyes caught hold of the mess of feathers on Vinyl's back. "'Oly 'ell..." He murmured, one hand reaching forwards to brush at a stray feather. Wheatley cared not of said wings were sensitive, simply wanting to help. "Vinyl, what 'appened?"

Vinyl made a small 'mmm' of a response when the male stated his explanation, understanding it, she supposed. Ears perked up though at the small whimper, and instantly the female's eyes flickered to the other's, two different shades of blue meeting instantly. Mouth opened to say something, until the male's words caught her off guard. Eyes flickered down to the stray feather in her hand, frowning. At the male's touch, her wings twitching at the action, not used to such a gesture. A yawn shook through her body before speaking, and she rolled her shoulders, eyes looking to meet the male's. "It's nothing, really," she lied smoothly, a tired smile on her face. "Stress and preening time isn't the greatest combination, really." She chuckled hollowly, a sigh at the end of her words. God she was so miserable, she couldn't even find the motivation to clean her own feathers.

Wheatley looked mortified at her explanation. Had she been tearing her feathers out? Oh no no no, that wouldn't do, not at all. "C'mere." He stated, reaching out his free hand to the female. Should she have taken it, Vinyl would quickly have found herself being yanked along with him, intending for her to turn around so that her back was facing him. Once -if- this had been done, Wheatley would've scooted forwards, legs crossed and a hand reaching to brush a few stray feathers. A bold move, but nonetheless one the male had seen fit.

Vincenza Staccato. Vinyl arched a brow at the male's expression, about to question it until the male's words hit her. She was slow to respond, not figuring out what the male intended on doing, so she took his hand, brows knitted together. She squeaked slightly at the bold move, surprised by the male completly. She obliged at his movements almost instantly, arms and legs stiff at her side as wings instantly spread out, one side completly so as the other was cut off by the back of the couch. Her wingspan was quite large, but in truth, it was no surprise due to her height and size. A shiver ran down her spine as the male brushed once more, steeling herself to calm down and take control of her over sensitive wings. "What in the world are you doing, tinhead?" she demanded, still not seeming to get what he was going on about.

Wheatley shrunk at her demanding tone. He hadn't meant to alarm her, personal space was just a rather foreign concept to him when it came to others. He, on the other side, despised being touched, some low-lying phobia that had long remained with him. "Oh uh- sorry- I jus'..." Hand was wandering, finding the places where some feathers were loose enough to be pulled without it hurting. Fingers brought frayed and broken feathers in their wake, making sure her wings were clean whether or not she'd protested. "Wanted t' preen 'em, y'know? Yer wings don't deserve to be in that bang-up state. Sorry if'n I startled you." He didn't look keen on discarding her feathers, turning over them and observing their varying shades of blue. Without a word, he placed them at his side on the couch.

Vinyl felt her face grow red under her fur, a displeased and fluster look on her face as the male went on. Alas, she obliged, not uttering one complaint about the male's tender touching. It wasn't that she dislike touching, infact she adored it, wanted it, but it was the fact it was so /tender/ that startled her. The only hands that have ever touched them in such a way was her own, no one really expertised on the ability to preen. She nodded and huffed, allowing him to continue, wings fluttering slightly every now and again. "S'ok," she murmured as she brought her knees to her chest, resting her snout on said knees. Arms wrapped around her legs, and she closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax at the expertise hands of the male. "You sure you know what you're doing, though?"

Wheatley continued to discard her wings of used feathers, making sure not to disturb her primaries, as they were quite important feathers. Every so often would he pause, not used to the occasional spasm of flutters that occurred under his touch. Was he doing this right...? Her question elicited a nod from him, and he was eager to go back to his work. "Yeh, can't be that 'ard." The male informed, shaking his hand to rid it from cramps. It would've been easier had he been able to use both his hands, but, he was happy to help even with one, no matter how small his 'help' was. Wheatley scooted closer now, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as he scrutinized her feathers with a so-called 'expert' eye. It wasn't even that he'd done this before. Years of tinkering and cleaning had left his fingers articulate and deft, and preening simply posed another challenge to him. Some of her feathers were frayed, not beyond a state of repair, but shredded enough to require extra attention. Focusing his efforts on those, he ran his fingers upwards across the barbs of the plumage, forcing the feathers to regain their shape. It was no beak-work, but it was better than nothing. "Like this, yeh?"

Vincenza Staccato. The male's fingers against her wings felt so.. Soothing. She adored the feeling very much so, and she swore that if she was a cat, she probably would've been purring a mile a minute. Her shoulders seem to loosen up as her body seem to grew more tired and relaxed, a stiffling a yawn the best she could. Ears pinned against her head as she began to drift off, her tail curling around her side, as if placing herself in a cacoon. At his question, she barely responded, words coming out slow and sloppey. "Yeh.. Just don't pull too hard, or ya could hurt me, like..." she didn't finish her sentence, her breathing evening out as she once again dosed off.

:nodded, barely noticing the sleepy tone in her voice. He never got the concept of sleep, if he was honest. The only reason he truly 'slept' was to recharge. But, it didn't mean he exactly understood it. All he knew is that he needed to sleep, and so, he did it, like anyone should. But, he was snapped out of his reverie when Vinyl went silent and he found himself out of feathers to smooth and things to talk about. Once more, he gave her feathers a smooth-over, smiling weakly at the soft feeling of them in-between his fingers. However, a quiet silence had now fallen over Wheatley, and he simply held up a strange stare at the back of the female's head, wondering what to do. "Vinyl?"

Vincenza Staccato. "Hm?" she said, raising her head and turning it slightly, trying to look at the male. Eyes flickered to her wings, and she blinked, smiling as she gave them a tested flap, a lopsided grin on her face as she tenderly touched them, ruffling them slightly. "Wow," she chuckled, yawning. "You work fast." She shuffled, a bit awkward as she turned to face the male head on. "Thanks." She repositioned herself once more, knees to chest, arms to legs as she rested her head on her knees, staring up at the male intently. Mind went blank on what to talk about, which was odd, since they could talk about the strangest of things at times. She stared blankly at him, and instead, tilted her head to the side, like a confused, sick puppy. "How've you been?" the question was stupid, yes, but honestly? It was better than nothing.

Wheatley. "Jus' makin' sure yer still alive." Wheatley responded, voice totally serious as he leaned back, head against the arm of the sofa as he reclined. "Yeh, guessin' I must've picked it up from me dad. Can fix anythin' givin' enough yarn n' some needles, if I'm honest." Eyes shut, and he nodded his head in response. "Yeh, s'no issue, Vinyl. S'what friends do fer eachother, y'know?" A rattly sigh escaped his throat. If he was being perfectly honest, he quite preferred sleep at the moment, if not to simply block out the world around him. But, he'd happily remain online in the face of his friend. It was what kept him going. Speaking of that, eyes opened, gaze quickly directing itself to the couch's cushion. Fingers quickly found the pile of feathers, and idly did he toy with one of them between his fingers, blinking regretfully. "Could be better... N' you?"