Chapter Text
Volleyball practice was hard.
It was fun though, Wilbur loved the sport and playing for his school for a multitude of reasons, one being that he got to be in close quarters with a bunch of guys his age and occasionally bump hips- but that was definitely a small reason compared to bringing his school honor. Even just the activity, although a bit strenuous at times, was something that kept him coming back to the court over and over. There was also the small factor that one of his favorite people played as well, and it was one of their only overlapping subjects, Wilbur wished they had more classes together but he wasn't going to sacrifice any of his interests yet.
Yet being the key word as he's been considering shoving biological studies to the side and transferring to more advanced mathematics next year; biology is hard anyways, who needs biology when you can have calculus. He'd get to learn new things and bond with Dream a little bit more than volleyball practice and geography, its relatively hard to bond over a group project when he's chatting with George anyways and math opens up tutoring gigs as well. He'd be winning either way, he just hopes he can quell his feelings for a couple more months until summer arrives, and then a few more until his chances of seeing Dream often double.
He is currently guzzling down water and seated in the bleachers, he feels like hes been glazed in honey, kind of damp and kind of sticky all over, the adrenaline is nice. His heart skips a beat when Dream sits down beside him, nearly touching, proximity far too much, he inches away just a bit so he doesn't faint. He can't will himself to open his mouth and say something, anything at this point- he's lucky that Dream speaks first.
"Geography," Dream said, he was a little bit winded and Wilbur had to refrain from letting his eyes flit across the players form, still slim, discretely muscled if at all.
"What about it?" Wilbur manages to get out in response, his voice is kind of rough, he drinks more water.
"I need help before the next test is dropped on us who knows when," Dream explained, Wilbur nodded, he felt honored to have Dream coming to him of all people for help when it feels that literally anyone else would be a better choice, "maybe we could study at your place sometime soon?"
"Of course man, does Friday work for you?" Wilbur asked, his entire weekend was free, but if he got lucky he could spend two whole days thinking about the events, just relishing in it after its happened because hes a little bit scared of giving admittance to his emotions- especially the ones for Dream.
"Friday evening works, but we have the entire day off on Friday right?" Dream asked, his count of the days fuzzy, to make matters worse he usually couldn't remember the stupid 'holidays' that affected schedules like their school.
"Yeah, Good Friday, we'll have the entire day off, but you can drop by whenever works best," Wilbur said, he stretched his arms a bit as he did so, his voice wasn't as croaky.
"Fuck yeah, if I come by early we could go catch a movie or something afterwards," Dream said, he was grinning a bit as he did so, Wilbur felt his heart skip a beat, he had to actively beat down the urge to gush and push away the heat rising to his face, he could blame it on the fact they just played volleyball, "here's hoping it'll get me out of the geography ditch."
"Here's hoping," Wilbur said raising his water bottle in a faux toast, Dream reciprocated it.
"See ya then dude," Dream said, he stood up and made his way off, Wilbur couldn't help but stare just a little bit, how much could indulging a glance over risk? It would be worth it, he was sure of that, his thoughts quickly shift over to the fact hes roped himself into an evening with Dream as he goes through the motions.
An entire evening, that might mean a meal, dinner perhaps, nothing romantic though, they're just friends, barely so at that, they only share three classes. Fast food is good, nothing beats a Mc Donalds, maybe even a Chill & Grill, or just some Kraft Dinner will do, he's stressing too much, he needs to focus more on the 'tutoring' side then the 'going to be in the same room as his crush' side. He'll make a power point, those usually get across his thoughts, maybe a small quiz to see what he already knows, a small essay to read could work, so many options, so little time.
What can happen in three days though?
---
Turns out a lot can happen in three days, pop quizzes were assaulting him left and right, only to be doubled down with the now impending deadline of tests, Tuesday. He still had to tutor for Dream, but that had left his mind entirely, he had the power point ready for whenever Dream decided to drop in though. His weekend was no longer empty, it was all designated study time now and he was not looking forward to that, he was going to marathon his childhood, but now he has to haul ass to get an acceptable grade in biology instead.
Friday he wakes up and heads directly to the kitchen, he sits at the counter before doing much of anything else, he just needs to take a moment, make a plan to tackle the unexpected avalanche of work that's been dumped on him. He turns on a pot of water and grabs a mug, placing a teabag in it, raspberry, as soon as his tea is ready he'll make a plan. He heads back to his room and grabs a notepad, pencil, and a red pen for good measure, he sits down at the counter again, his designated study spot relatively close to the stove.
The first thing that goes in his notebook is a small rant, a bunch of scribbles, and anything else that could help relieve the stress shaking him to his core. The next page he starts a list on, he starts on Saturday, putting down thirty minute intervals from when he usually wakes up all the way to three AM, he'll recover on Sunday, conk out before eight PM. The kettle starts to whistle and he pours water over his tea, burning hot, he adds a little bit of honey before reluctantly downing a couple sips, his tongue hurts because of it, but he feels better after doing so. The final page he writes on he labels as 'Friday' he doesn't add any intervals, all he writes is 'jack off' in red ink, then below he adds 'Dream???' in brackets because he just can't remember if its today.
He sits and drinks his tea for a good long while, just letting his mind stray as he sits at the counter, raspberry tea in hand. He thinks of Dream mostly, not much else he can bother thinking about in his frazzled state of mind. He thinks of having Dream listen to him, he thinks of the times they collided on the volleyball court, he thinks of everything until this moment- and he lets his thoughts go further. He lets his thoughts go to sex, to all the things he wouldn't mind doing, the only thing keeping his mind even partially grounded is the taste of fruit in his mouth, even at that its not doing a very good job. The noise that slips past his lips when he lowers the tea shocks him back into reality, that worked, he stands up and brings his mug with him, still half full.
He heads directly for his bedroom, this is one of those days he's beyond glad he found a cheap rental, even if its coming apart at the seams in some places. He loves his place dearly, but he'll forever miss windows that don't always stay stuck a centimeter open, alongside entirely soundproof walls- and even if he was loud enough to bother his neighbors (he doubts he is) they don't talk to him about it. The door swings open and he doesn't even bother shutting it again, not like anyone's gonna break in and catch him jerking it, that would be more of a problem for the robber anyways.
He drops to his knees and squirms his way under his bed, he barely fits, the squeeze is tight, but its worth it as he reaches for the box, he bruises his hip on the way out. He spends a solid minute or two waiting for the pain in his hip to dissolve before cracking open the box, he knows he logically doesn't have to hide it because he lives alone, but its habitual at this point. He props himself against his bed frame before sifting through the minuscule contents of the box.
"Lube," Wilbur mumbles as he pulls out the bottle, "check, vibrator," he pulls out the aforementioned item, "check, dignity?" He pauses on that one, "maybe."
He shimmies out of his pants, hes deserves this, hes had a long week, he slides out of his boxers next, there's that chill in the air he finds ignoring easy. He uses one of his hands to lube himself up, its kind of cold, but everything is kind of cold around this time of year, he doesn't react to it very much. The act of slicking the vibrator has become second nature over his years of hormonal roller coasters, and even though that's stopped, lack of getting laid keeps the sex drive moderate and his familiarization with his own self easy. He would never admit it, but he's gotten better at anticipating how he'll react to different things, and having a vibrator up his ass throughout the day once or twice may or may not have played a large role in that.
It slides in with ease, vibrations are low, he feels relieved with it not being to long until he gets his fair share of bliss in a world of so much suffering. He reaches absently for the controller with his free hand, the other still coated in a thin layer of lube he doesn't plan on washing off until he's finished- for now he uses that hand to loosely stroke himself. He turns up the vibrations to a good medium, pressed right next to what very damn well might be the most sensitive spot of his body, his mouth cracks open a little, he doesn't realize it. He does realize his body starting to react to what he's doing, pleasure shooting off, he loves that feeling, it lifts the stress of the looming deadline of the tests. Inching closer and closer to ecstasy, he has no intentions of taking his time with this as much as he'd like too even though its a Friday, maybe he could slow down just a bit?
A knock on the door breaks his thoughts from the debate of letting himself enjoy this or get it done as fast as possible. Now the debate is ignoring the knock and removing the vibrator from his ass at the risk of his guest leaving or just pulling on his pants and facing the day in pleasure. Then he remembers that Dream is studying today because of course they scheduled for Friday, not Saturday, fuck- he reluctantly sits up and places everything he can in the box as fast as possible before kicking it back under his bed. He yanks his pants back on as he makes his way to the door, his hand is still covered in lube but he hides it in his pocket. He catches a brief glimpse of himself in the mirror and ends up pausing at the kitchen sink to splash water on his face, he wipes down his hand while hes at it, another knock on the door.
"Gimme a second!" Wilbur shouts, he groans to himself a little bit, he'll never be able to think up an excuse to go take the vibrator out of his ass as soon as humanly possible, he tries to ignore the sensations as he opens the door, greeted with Dream holding a binder.
"Hope I'm not to early or anything," Dream said, Wilbur shrugged his shoulders, not catching the way his guests eyes flitted much lower than his face for only a second.
"Its on me for rolling out of bed at ten, please, come in," Wilbur said, moving away so Dream could walk in, he closed the door after and leaned on it, he quickly moved away because that sparked some unneeded pressure on his prostate, "anything in specific you're struggling with?"
"That cartography assignment we got yesterday, and the whole globalism aspect," Dream explained nervously, pulling aside his chair and taking a seat, Wilbur took a seat opposite to him, the counter on one side, he tried to lean on it and alleviate the weight on the chair, "if that's too much you don't have to help."
"I'll probably be able to help with globalism, not sure if I'll be of any use to you when it comes to the cartography parts though," Wilbur said, trying to keep his tone even, he couldn't fully suppress the partial crack from seeping into his voice, Dream was polite enough not to raise a brow or bring it up, but he noticed.
"Thanks so much, anywhere in specific you want to study," Dream asked, the slight gap between his question and the answer gave him enough time to jokingly fill it, "sir." Wilbur has to choke back whatever the title is doing to him, but he's sure Dream notices his small reaction, the vibrations shaking him to his core aren't doing much to help his case either.
"We could study in my room, I got a beanbag in the living room I could drag over if you want," Wilbur offered, his tone was a little bit airy, he stood up, his grip on the counter lingered as he tried to keep balance and composure, he needed an excuse now.
"Are you feeling alright Wilbur?" Dream asked gently as he stood up, using an arm to prop up Wilbur and help his balance, the casual contact does things to him and the small noise bubbling in his throat easily comes out and he's ashamed, still, Dream doesn't mention it.
"Yeah! Yeah I'm great, do you wanna start with globalism or cartography?" Wilbur asked, reaching for straws to try and make the mounting pleasure go away, now he's entirely sure that Dreams noticed the tent in his pants, probably noticed it the second he opened the door- the edge hes walking along is too much for him to dwell on that.
"We could do cartography," Dream offers as Wilbur slips out of contact, Dream has a hunch about whats going on, and he'll make things easier on Wilbur soon enough, but, he's enjoying this, just having Wilbur on edge, "sir." Wilburs reaction is suppressed but still comes across as visceral, Dream loves it- maybe its the illusion hes laying down that Wilbur will have control if this escalates, or the fact this is actually happening, he can't tell what he loves the most about this.
"Cool, just gimme a minute or two first, get some drinks ready, maybe even a snack or something," Wilbur offered, his voice is shaky now, he almost doesn't catch Dreams smirk, he knows, he knows and he's playing him like a cheap kazoo- very, very easily that is.
"No need, I'm not feeling very thirsty," Dream answered with, he stops smirking as he does so, following Wilbur to his room, he takes a seat on Wilburs bed, Wilbur sits beside him after grabbing his laptop.
"So I made a power point," Wilbur choked out as he started up his lap top, Dream slung an arm around his shoulders and his speech seized for a second, "but if we start with cartography, I could just pull up a map for you to mimic."
"I can freehand," Dream said as he opened his binder, already beginning a sketch, arm still resting on Wilbur.
"You do that then," Wilbur said, he was shaking a little bit, trying to ignore every single sensation building his lower half, he was so close to hitting his peak, but he just tried to ignore it in favor of withholding some dignity; he shifts in his spot and a short moan escapes, he can't help the reflex to cover his mouth, Dream quirked a brow.
"Alright, it is painfully clear that you're horny as shit right now," Dream said bluntly as he shut his binder.
"What gave it away?" Wilbur asked meekly despite knowing very damn well that he wasn't doing a very good job of keeping it discrete.
"Everything," Dream said, his expression blank as he placed his binder on the ground, Wilbur sighed a bit.
"Yeah, sorry about this, we can try this again tomorrow when I don't have a vibrator up my ass," Wilbur offered, there goes every last shred of his dignity or what little he had in the first place.
"I mean, the real question is whether or not you want a hand," Dream said, his confidence in the question had Wilbur shaking a little bit, he stands up, "but we can reschedule like you offered-"
"No! No it's fine, I'd love a hand dealing with this if it isn't too much to ask," Wilbur practically begged, this was too much for him to even comprehend happening, from being caught off guard with a vibrator in his ass to having his crush offer him a hand to deal with his boner, today is wild.
"Amazing, I suspect you'd know what happens next," Dream said, almost expectantly, it takes Wilbur a good five seconds before it clicks in his mind and he shimmies out of his pants, "wow, I really got lucky today." That makes Wilbur freeze, so many implications in one sentence, he couldn't even begin to pick it apart.
"What next?" Wilbur asked, last time he had sex was, well, it was a while ago.
"Don't you remember? You're smart enough to figure it out if you don't," Dream said, lazily reaching for his belt, pulling the buckle loose as he did so, he adored Wilburs reaction of trying to get into an acceptable position, it was good enough, although not perfect, "now just hold still," he pauses before coming to a name, "pup, or maybe you're just a good boy, ditch the dog thing." Wilburs reaction is audible and it makes Dream shiver at just how easily he can react.
"Really?" Wilbur asked quietly as Dream walked over, he could barely hear footsteps on the carpet.
"Really," Dream said, gripping the base of the vibrator and yanking it out forcefully, Wilbur has to force himself from recoiling at the sudden absence, although he does orgasm, "good boy." There it is again, Wilbur shudders as he hears it.
None of this feels real to Wilbur, it feels much more like a dream than anything else, like hes floating on bliss, his grip on reality is all to real though because this is happening. Those really are Dreams hands roaming his shaky form, and yes, it really is Dream whose lining up to potentially split him down the middle. But it hurts more than anything when Dream is actually inside, Wilbur choking out a 'stop' instead of a shriek of agony, he can't help the tears building up.
"Shit, what did I do wrong?" Dream asked almost instantly, this was the exact opposite of what he wanted.
"Nothing, fuck, just don't move I need a minute," Wilbur choked out between pants, hoping his explanation would suffice, he reached for more words despite the fact that what he had said was already enough, "over stimulation, doesn't last long."
"Right, just say when, don't wanna hurt someone pretty as you," Dream said softly, the praise made Wilbur want to sob in a good way, he didn't expect praise to feel good, the fact he didn't get enough of it anywhere else in life probably added to that.
It was nice, even just being there in silence with Dream, locked together in such a position, felt like he was getting something he didn't deserve but craved. Dream was too good for him, but here they are, and Wilbur didn't even have to initiate things, unless you count trying to interact with someone while having a vibrator stuck up your ass as initiation. Eventually, it stops hurting, and Wilbur shakily raises his hand, giving a thumbs up and a bit of a nod, hoping that got the message across, afraid that if he opens his mouth he'll either moan or sob, and he doesn't want to learn which.
Dream gets the point with ease and starts moving, albeit rather slowly, almost sluggishly, and the lack of negative reaction gives him enough confidence to speed up. Once Wilbur starts to stop biting back the sounds that bubble up and escapie does Dream really enjoy himself because he's doing a good enough job. His grip rested on Wilburs hips, shifting away from the noticeable bruise which he plans on asking about, Wilbur whines a little bit when he brushes over the sensitive spot, Dream purposefully keeps a finger resting at its edge.
It feels like its not enough to Wilbur, feels like he's not doing anything to add to the experience by just laying there and vocalizing as he takes it. Then the praise starts, its relentless and has Wilbur practically melting even though the compliments are being pulled from seemingly random places that have nothing to do with gay sex. Each piece of praise cuts deeper than the last, bolstering what little self respect he had, he loves it. From simply being called a good boy to saying he sounded nice or even that his interior design taste was on point it all hit him exactly the same- right in the pleasure trigger.
Even as Dream slows down just a bit, the praise doesn't stop, that alone makes Wilbur hornier than he could ever imagine getting from praise, he can focus more on the words. Its clear as well, and a beautifully high pitched noise was torn from him when Dreams hand retreated from his hips to grasp his cock instead. His balance gives out completely at that and he ends up slumped against his mattress almost entirely, face buried in the sheets, it muffles his moans to some extent.
"Fuck, has anyone ever told you how fucking great you are?" Dream asked, he sounded winded, and his speech was awkwardly portioned due to panting in between, Wilbur could only muster shaking his head, if he opens his mouth with intention to speak he knows he'll only release some guttural sound of ecstasy, "thats stupid- Wilbur you're amazing, period, the perfect boy." A moan is elicited at being dubbed the perfect boy by his crush of all people.
Then the peak hits Dream, he doesn't even bother pulling out right away, mainly because he fears he'll lose balance and just fall over on his side, also because he likes just being here, with Wilbur, blissed out on sex- he ministers off a few more strokes until his partner orgasms as well, to be fair of course. Wilburs panting, they both are, that was certainly an experience, the entire day so far has been a new experience Wilbur was not ready for in the slightest. When Dream does pull out cum oozes from Wilburs ass just a little bit, he takes only a few seconds to admire his work before falling back, head beside Wilburs.
For a little bit they stay and breath with each other, just existing in such a state with Dream of all people made Wilbur feel like he had won the lottery. When he lies down and Dream actively curls into him he feels like he could spontaneously die and be happy about it. A nagging questions comes to mind as soon as his clear state of mind starts to fade away and he has to ask it because if he doesn't now he'll never get another chance.
"Am I really great?" Wilbur asked gently, Dream pushed himself up, resting on his forearms.
"Fuck yeah, I wouldn't just say that to get you off man, promise, you're amazing alright and I'd be charmed if this wasn't a one time thing," Dream over explained, trying to get everything on his chest off now before he never gets a chance to say it again, "I love you dude, we can still just be friends though." The first half of the sentence has Wilburs heart already pounding once again.
"I love you too," was all Wilbur could produce, it felt like a hundred pounds of stress had been lifted off his chest as the words rolled off his tongue, the way Dreams demeanor lifted was unreal, "can we stay like this for a while?"
"Of course, you can tutor me some other time," Dream said, dropping back down onto Wilburs bed and curling into his touch again, it was addicting and he has as much as he could want or need.