Chapter Text
His ceiling is on fire.
It feels like a dumb observation, but its the only one he has the capacity to make, and he swallows down a broken wail.
This is real. He just made a portal and he's ruined these people's lives and this is real .
Dream looks damn near ready to sing.
“Well,” Will gives one, slow blink. He seems amused. “That was easy.” He turns to dream, then, and tilts his head to the side like an overgrown puppy. “Do you think it works?”
Dream is not staring at will. Dream is staring at him. The look sends sparks of heat up wilburs gut, and he almost wants to laugh. Here he is, having broken every known law of physics, and all he can think about is getting laid.
“You might be the greatest thing to have ever happened to me, you know that?” Its a low, smoothe baritone. Will gives an indignant squawk, and wilburs breath hitches. Dream doesn't seem to care about either of these things, and he grabs at wilbur's cheeks, lightly squeezing the flesh.
“You're so.. soft .” It sounds like an afterthought, a forced promise, and dreams lips curl as if disgusted. “God, look at him, will. All soft skin and fuckin’.. floppy hair.” He hums, and Will all but frolics to his side, dragging a hand through wilburs hair and forcing his head back. Wilbur whimpers, and forces his eyes closed.
He hears a snort.
“Jesus, look at this bitch.” Nails dig into his cheeks at the words, and wilbur hisses a breath, trying not to shudder at the laugh Will lets out, saccharine and sinful and bleeding crimson blood.
More prodding, and nothing happens for a moment, until, without warning, dream slaps him, hard and stinging. Wilburs eyes fly open and he chokes a gasp bringing his hand to his cheek.
“Wh- what the fuck. What was that f–”
“You're boring me, princess .” Deadpan, blank, dream gives him a flat stare aswill bursts into laughter.
“Oh, dreamie, you're cruel . Look,” Will leans down, swiping away a stray tear and smearing it across on his bottom lip. “He's crying. Poor thing. I bet your cheek is burning right now, isn't it?” From this angle, and at this proximity, wilbur can smell the smoke waft off wills breath. Smoke and something else, too, something fruity. Maybe mango. As if sensing his thoughts, wills smile stretches, staring at him from under his lashes before asking without a trace of shame: “You’ve had sex, right, love?”
Wilbur can barely think to nod, choking on his spit.
A hum from dream, and wilburs heart stutters as he purrs. “And with men? ”
He goes to shake his head, but wilbur grips at his hair. They're the same height, but will makes him feel so small.
“ Words , wilbur, I know you can use them.”
He hates this. He hates this so much.
“No.” He mumbles it, but they hear him anyway. Wilbur flicks on a lighter and lights a cigarette, the smoke billowing in small increments. He smiles, smoke filtering through his teeth, and wilbur lets himself breathe in the fumes.
Silence, suffocating and wholly. He wishes he could crumble up and die. Will tilts his head and shoots dream a look .
“We don't need to leave now, do we?”
Dream grins, hand sliding down wilburs face and landing to rest comfortably on his neck. Cold rings press into the skin, squeezing his airflow. His eyes flicker a bright, bright green.
“..no. No, we don't.”
Will takes his chance and lunges, kissing wilbur like it's the last thing he might do, and wilbur melts, barely registering it as wilbur drops his fresh cig on the floor, crushing it under his boot.
He knew, fundamentally, that will would be a better kisser than he is. Wilbur is a poet , a depraved, craving romantic that gives and gives until he has worn himself to bone. Kissing Wilbur is like kissing an apology, so desperate and so needy.
Kissing will, however, is explosive, it's fiery, it's the split second where you fly before you sink. He can't breathe–will won't let him–but that doesnt matter, because he is so high and he soaring past the point of return and refuses to let himself look at the fall as a pair of hands slide up the thin material of his shirt and, calloused fingers pressing against his nipples as canines dig into his shoulder, sucking and lapping up the the blood it spurs.
Will finally leans back, smiling as wilbur struggles to catch his breath and dream wraps both arms around his waist, nipping at his earlobe, bored.
“Well,” he mumbles, words muffled into the flush of wilbur's shoulder. Wilbur feels him smile as his fingers dance their way to the hem of his sweats. “This has been a very successful warming up, no? I mean,” he chuckles, and the vibrations go straight to wilburs dick “You seem to have enjoyed it quite a bit.”
Huh?
Wilburs head swims, and will snorts dropping to squatting position and propping his head on his knuckles, face aligned just right with his–
Oh.
Oh .
He's hard.
He's not quite sure why this is surprising. He's also not quite sure why he's surprised when, in one fell swoop, will drops manages to leave him bare, pants and boxers pooling around his ankles.
His dick bobs upright, not quite long enough to reach Will's face, and wilburs face heats in shame.
“Wha-what the hell –” his words hold no weight, and will gives him one, brief look before bursting out into laughter.
Its cold, its harsh, its biting and it stings, and instinctively, wilbur tries to borrow himself deeper in dreams hold.
Will reaches up a hand and gives his dick and absent minded flick. The friction has wilbur gasping, a drop of pre-cum dripping to the floor. He nearly sobs.
“Oh, you poor thing ,” Dream's hands press against the spot right above his base, tone dripping with condescension. “Is this what youve had to use all these years? You fucked Niki with this?”
As if to accentuate his point, will gives a harsh drag along the length, and wilbur chokes on a moan, barely able to register the words.
“I didn’t– hah– I- I didnt fuck Niki, I swear -” he whimpers when will presses his thumb against the slit, and dream jerks his head to the side, hand having found its way to his neck again. He looks pissed. If wilbur was in the right state of mind, he probably would've been shitting his pants by now, but it only makes him moan, loud and whorish.
Dreams lips curl into a smile that is all too sweet, eyes flashing from green to red and back again. He's doing something, wilbur knows. His fingers are clenching around his throat and something is twisting and pooling is his gut and wills hands are a gift from god and wilbur is going to cum holy sht hes never cum this fast fuck fuck shit he has to he cant he cant why isn’t he–
He doesn't cum. Wilburs hips jerk and he moans and moans but nothing happens and the wave of the orgasm just wont fucking crash.
“Dream..? I can't– why– you did something to m–” his words are feeble and weak and pathetic and it comes to no surprise, not really, how easily dream is able to scoop him up and drop him to his bed, face as innocent as ever.
“Oh, that?” He straddles wilburs bare thighs, and the material of his jeans rub harsh against wilburs weeping cock, tip a stark ruddy red against pale skin. “That's just.. Just a little something extra .” He leans down, whispering in wilburs ear. “We wouldn't want our star getting burnt out early, now would we?”
He blinks bleary eyes, hands wringing the hem of his shirt, and tries not to let his panic show when will climbs onto the bed with them, freshly lit cigarette in hand.
“That's not– that isn't–”
“Fair? Yeah, well, look sweetheart , I didn't ask for you to script my life path. But here we are.” He snags the cig from wills hand and takes a drag before handing it back. When he exhales, he looks the slightest bit more ravenous than he did before. “ Fair crashed and burned years ago, ‘kay? Now all we have is Survive . And–” His hands engulf wilburs waist, and his grip hinges on painful. “And pretty little things like you only survive on our count.” He smiles stretches and stretches and stretches as he speaks and he looks manic and his fingers dig so hard into wilburs hips he thinks it draws blood, even as dream flips him over and onto his stomach.
“Ass up, face down, just like he likes it~” Will sing-songs, hopping over to where wilburs face is smushed up into the pillows. The situation dawns on him, then, and he smashes his eyes shut, but will doesnt let him, patting on his cheek. Somehow, it's worse than being outright hit.
“Uh uh, nope, wakey-wakey, you are not going all pillow princess on us right now.”
He hears dream snort, mixed with the sound of unzipping from both ends of him. “Oh, c’mon Will, you should be the last to talk about ‘going all pillow princess.’ No one likes a hypocrite.”
“Gasp! The audacity. I’m never letting you fuck me again.”
“Sounds more like a punishment for you than for me, to be completely–”
He snaps. “Not to be a priss, but can you both stop conversing over my bare ass right now? Thanks.”
Silence. His stomach churns.
Then–
Then a harsh, cutting slap echoes around the room and wilbur sobs , giving a full body jerk as dreams hand slices across his ass. It burns and it stings and he cannot stop crying.
“I don't remember– ” Dream hisses, “-ever giving you the right to speak. Do you remember me doing that, will?”
“Hm,” will hums, massaging the tent in his pants. He looks so pleased. So happy. “No, I can't say I do, dreamie.”
He hears a click, and something cold and slick drips down his thighs and oh god .
Oh fuck .
Dreams fingers are huge. He manages to knead and spread the flesh under only one of his palms, pressing the digits into his hole and it burns. He claws at the sheets and moans and writhes until will grabs a handful of his hair, throwing his head back.
He blinks the tears out of his eyes and tries not to squeak.
Will dick bobs right above his lips, thick in a way that wilbur knows he can't take, and wills smiles a mile wide.
“Su- prise~ !”A puff of smoke clouds his head and burns his lungs, wills eyes glow an eerie red. “Didn't think I'd let Dream have all the fun, did you?”
“I dont– I dont know how–”
“Oh, don't be silly. ” A hint of a threat slips into the words, and dreams fingers speed up to an inhumane pace, digging into the sweet spot and leaving wilbur slobbering. “Just open your jaw nice and wide and lick.” He takes a drag. “It's super easy , love, I promise.”
His elbows burn as he leans down, taking the head in his mouth and giving a tentative lick. It tastes like salt and nothing, heavy on his tongue, and he pulls back immediately.
Will frowns. Wilbur feels the heat pool in his gut again.
“Im sorry, but I never said you could stop. ” The hand in his hair tightens to the point of pain, and will drags him down again.
He goes further down, this time, spit mixing with precum as he sucks around the tip, hands fumbling with the base when–
He chokes, tears dripping down the curve of his cheek as dream rams into him, bottoming out in one harsh thrust. Arousal pools and burns and simmers in his gut and he wants and wants and wants –
He moans, wanton, and his fingers scramble on the leather of wills pants, sweat making his hair stick in clumps to forehead. Hes gonna cum hes gonna cum he gonna cum dream is hitting his prostate and he has to he has too he–
Blunt nails dig into his hips, the obscene sound of skin against skin richocheing around the room as he slobbers around the length of Will's cock, enthusiasm growing as groans ring around him. Everything stings and squeezes and sticks and he has never been so horny.
“ Dream– ” He babbles, lips slicked with spit. He's gotten a bit used to handjobs, precum smoothing the motions as wills fingers dig at his scalp. “Dreamdreamdream let me cum let me cum please please– fuck– fuck please– ” Snot dribbles down down the curve of his lip and smears on his hand. His mind numbs over, brain buzzing as Dreams angles himself all over again, hitting so deep and so rapid wilbur barely registers it when will puts out his cigarette over his collarbone, the sting a dull thrumm.
Dream pants, grinning. “I th–think– fuck –” He speeds up “I think you need to beg a little more than that.”
Wilbur loses any remaining shrap of dignity, after that.
“Please please please dream fuck fuck fuuuuuck please i’ll fuck you whenever I fucking promise ill write anything you want I just need–”
It happens all at once.
Dream comes hard, cursing in some unknown language that sounds faintly like galactic, will not far behind. Cum drips down his face and clings to his lashes and he can only imagine the picture it paints when he laps up the drips.
It is silent for a moment too long, but then–
But then dream pulls out. He pulls out, wiping himself on a spare towel he finds, and redresses himself, slowly, going to the bathroom to wash his hands.
Will cleans up, too, though with significantly less effort. He tucks himself in, sliding off the bed and lighting a new cigarette in what seems to be one effortless motion. No words are spoken, and it's better that way, wilbur thinks. He refreshes the portal, makes it more specific, more direct, and wrings his hands, head down.
He opens his mouth to speak, but dream cuts him off, holding up a hand.
“I fucked you because I wanted to. Will fucked you because he wanted to. Don't make anything of it.”
“I– what? I wasn't .” He tries to sound incredulous, but will sees right through him, smile faint behind the puff of smoke.
“Riiiight, right. Well, we should–” he pauses for a minute, thinking something over, before leaning down and pecking him on the lips. Their spit mixes in a disgusting cocktail of smoke and cum, and wilbur chases his mouth even as he leans back. Will looks smug. “We should go, I think. If our time is parallel we’re about a day late on all our plans. It was–” he hesitates “It was nice fucking you. Hope we get to do it again.”
He smiles, and dream snorts, and it is condescending and oh-so cruel and as their forms fade into flickering sparks of indigo, wilbur realizes he misses it already.
In the end, as he sits at his desk with dried cum in his hair and sweat dripping down his neck, he's not quite sure why he thought this time would be different.