“Hey Clay,” George practically heard a record scratch as Dream stared at Wilbur. Very rarely did someone dare to use the Dream SMP leader’s name, let alone sound so casual while doing so. The brunet watched as Dream’s face went blank.
“What?” It wasn’t a question- not really, anyways. It was more of a ‘Don’t fucking call me that, this is not a game.’ Wilbur simply grinned, leaning against a stray tree just outside of their borders.
“I just wanted to drop by, see how everything was going. How’re you fairing with the loss of the war that you started?” Dream’s body went rigid at Wilbur’s deep, smug voice. George stepped forward, but Wilbur only shot him an unimpressed glance. He narrowed his eyes behind his glasses, scowling.
George didn’t trust Wilbur. The wanna-be leader was weird- creepy, if he was being completely honest. He seemed to have an odd fascination with Dream, constantly having his pathetic messenger boy Tommy deliver letters and notes, requesting they meet up for 1-on-1’s. Dream never went and made it clear he never planned to. Overall, he creeped George out.
Dream composed himself, putting a hand to his mask and shifting it to cover more of his face.
“Oh, we’re doing fine. I’ve been listening to those discs that Tommy had to give up in order to prevent your massacre.” George felt pride in his leader at the way Wilbur’s eyes widened in poorly concealed offense. Dream took a step towards the taller man, his hands flexing subconsciously. Wilbur didn't stand down.
“Don’t talk about Tommy like that, Dream.” Wilbur sneered. George watched it all happen within seconds- A grunt, the clang of a sword and a shield, the sound of Wilbur being knocked back and to the ground. Dream gave a disinterested sigh, seemingly unbothered by the scuffle.
“Don’t get cocky Wilbur. We could take everything from you in a heartbeat. I took pity on you that day- the land you are on is a gift. Never forget that.” George and Wilbur shuddered simultaneously. The chill in Dream’s voice was something from… well, a nightmare. Wilbur narrowed his eyes, slowly getting up from the ground. His shield remained bared towards the masked man.
“George, you are dismissed.” George frowned, but the wary look in Wilbur’s eye was enough to convince him his leader would be okay. Dream kept his sword pointed at the taller man as his right-hand exited the room. Only when he hears the click of the door does he lower it, if only slightly. “What are you here for, Wilbur?”
“It’s Commander Soot.” The other corrected, the bridge of his nose crinkled in a scowl.
“Pfft- yeah right!” Dream laughs and brushes Wilbur off without a care. Wilbur holds Dream’s blank stare before continuing.
“I’ve come to negotiate.” The taller announced. He watched as the blond froze, his body not moving an inch. He then startled, flinching as Dream’s laughter boomed, feeling annoyance resurge as it shifted to pitiful wheezes.
“Negotiate what? You already have your little make-believe country!” Dream wheezed. Wilbur’s eyebrow twitched.
“We request more land.” Dream’s laughter lessened, then stopped altogether. The two men stared at each other in silence; Wilbur presumed Dream was mulling over what to do. Dream yet again adjusted his mask. That stupid, stupid mask. The mask that covered the emotion of the tyrant, leaving those who didn't know him to guess his thoughts, pray he was going to be merciful. That mask that held a secret Wilbur desired nothing more than to know.
“Leave, Wilbur.” Dream spoke, his voice even and controlled. “Leave, and tell your little friends that playtime is over. You’ve been given your toys, take them or give them back.” Dream’s sword was raised, the magic glittering along the netherite blade. Wilbur looked at the blond with something indistinguishable in his eyes. “You can’t honestly expect me to give you more land, especially after you- Wilbur!” With the sound of shattering glass, Dream was taking damage.
“I knew you’d feel like this, Dream. I figured I should bring a backup- a tool for negotiation. A splash potion of poison, specifically.” Wilbur explained, observing with interest as Dream fell to his knees, clutching his stomach and holding back bile. Wilbur took a step forward, eyes ablaze as he watched Dream gag, putting a hand over his mouth and trying to control his breathing. Wilbur took the opportunity to kick away Dream’s sword, stepping on his wrist when he went to reach for it. Dream hissed in pain, not yet moving to pull his arm out from under the commander’s boot. He didn't want to risk Wilbur breaking his wrist. He looked up, and Wilbur was yet again met with a mask. Wilbur shouldn’t- he knew that he shouldn’t. But he oh so badly wanted to.
He crouched down, lifting his hand to take it off of his opponent’s face.
Dream smacked him away, causing Wilbur to startle and step backward. Dream lunged for his sword, but the brunet quickly tackled him to the ground, this time holding both of his wrists in a too-tight grip.
“You’re starting to get on my nerves, Dream.” Wilbur hissed, his gaze bearing a searing heat.
“Get off me- you’re the size of a moose!” Dream grunted, struggling beneath him. The taller man blinked, then grinned.
“Not used to having people be taller than you, Dream?” Dream’s movement stuttered, and he breathed heavily behind his mask. “Not used to being overpowered? To not being strong enough to defend yourself?” Wilbur taunted, adjusting his position to make himself look bigger. The brunet felt powerful with the SMP leader under him- reduced to snarky comments. He could get used to the way that Dream subconsciously pressed and bucked against him in an attempt to throw him off.
“You’re an idiot.” Dream’s comeback fell flat, and they both knew it. It was a desperate reach for higher ground; a panicked, flustered insult. Wilbur’s smile was wicked as he took both of Dream’s wrists into one bone-crushing grip, using his other hand to nudge at the plastic mask. He marveled in the way Dream seemingly cowered away from his hand, still trying to keep that god-forsaken mask on.
“It’s just a mask, Dream.” He huffed, pulling it off carelessly. Dream’s blond hair flopped into his face. Wilbur watched with a stunned expression as Dream, who apparently had fucking freckles, bared his teeth at him.
“I’ll kill you, Wilbur- I’ll kill you, and Tubbo, and Tommy’s gonna get it a second time-!” He spat. Wilbur watched the green-eyed beauty in front of him fume and thrash, promising violence upon him and his comrades. Wilbur quickly grabbed both of Dream’s shoulders, lifting him up only to bash him against the floor. When his head slammed against the ground, Dream yelped. The brunet grinned at the way Dream squinted his eyes, unable to focus.
“Oh, Dream- you should have told me!” He breathed, touching Dream’s face softly. The younger turned his head away childishly, clearly incapacitated. Wilbur knew it wouldn’t last long, so he’d savour the chance to ogle while he had it. He took the time he had, and he stared into those pained emerald eyes with glee. He pressed his thumb against Dream’s pink lips, trailing along his bottom lip to his jawbone. He caressed his jaw carefully before moving and cupping his cheek.
“Wilbur- What-” Wilbur was quick to hush the vertigo-d man. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to Dream’s lips. The blond made a noise of surprise, and he bit down on Wilbur’s violating tongue. The brunet grabbed Dream’s face and pulled his jaws open, letting him pull away. Wilbur’s chest felt light, even with the new taste of iron in his mouth.
"Oh- Dream-” Wilbur hissed, eyes glinting dangerously. Dream shrunk into the floor- at least, he tried to. Wilbur’s stare was piercing. “Better work with me here, pretty boy.” He warned, and Dream’s chest constricted. “I’ll convince you to give me the land we need another way.” He promised, causing the blond to debate whether or not he should try struggling again. He feared what would happen if he couldn’t get free, but at the same time, he couldn’t let himself be used like this. Then again... Wilbur had never truly hurt him before. Sure, they fought and killed each other, but they never tortured each other or did any lasting damage. Not bodily, anyways, Dream’s mouth twitched upwards at the thought of burning Tommy’s discs..
Dream took in a breath. Was he about to say something that was going to get him killed? Probably.
“Dream, for the love of God shut up.” Wilbur snarled. Dream held his breath, averting his eyes, before making up his mind. Wilbur smirked triumphantly, only to be forced to turn his head as Dream used his breath to blow a spit-riddled raspberry in his face. Wilbur responded by grabbing Dream’s face and forcefully turned him away like one would a dog. “I’ll admit, your personality is just as cute as your face.” He huffed exasperatedly. Dream laughed incredulously.
“Honestly, Wilbur! Keep talking like that and I’ll think you’re in love with me or something!” He smiled nervously, his face being pressed against his wooden floor. The blond felt the older man shift, straddling his waist. Wilbur bit his lip and chuckled. Dream looked so pretty like this.
“‘ Knew there was something special about you, Dream…” Wilbur murmured to himself, using his free hand to pull up Dream’s hoodie. Dream practically shrieked in surprise, only to have Wilbur’s beanie shoved into his mouth. He furrowed his eyebrows at the amused sound the commander made, and Dream let out a rather rude muffled word that Wilbur promptly ignored. When the touches continued, the noises that escaped him were anxiety-ridden and undignified, but he couldn’t manage to do anything else.
“C’mon. Where’s the fearless leader that killed my men?” Wilbur asked condescendingly. Dream’s eyes flashed to the brunet’s, for only a moment. The taller man’s hand trailed up his side, caressing his ribs. Wilbur looked up to Dream, “Not that I don’t love you like this.”
Dream huffed into the fabric in his mouth, which was now covered in his drool. The freckled man flinched away when Wilbur flicked over his nipple, tweaking it between his forefinger and thumb. He watched Dream’s face intently, causing the younger man to flush and try to turn away.
“I want to take my hat out of your mouth so badly, Dream; but I need to know you’ll be good.” Wilbur hummed. Dream whimpered before forcing himself to make eye contact, silently begging the fabric in his mouth to be removed. Wilbur’s eyes softened, and Dream couldn’t deny the way being looked like that made him feel. As soon as the hat was removed from his mouth, Dream went to speak but yet again was cut off. “If I let you go, you don’t move. I get to play with you how I see fit.” He whispers lovingly, and Dream nods.
Wilbur finally lets go of Dream’s wrists, admiring the purpling bruises. He notices how Dream’s first instinct is to cover his face with his hands, and he can’t help but find it endearing. Wilbur lifted Dream’s hoodie to his chin, exposing his torso to the air. He was defined- it was definitely the body of a man who has won many battles. Wilbur leaned down, his tongue circling Dream’s nipple lightly. The younger man bucked into the sensation, much to Wilbur’s utter delight. Wilbur let his tongue lave over the rosy bud, using his other hand to play with the other one. Dream gasped for breath, stubbornly refusing to make any other sounds.
Sucking lightly, the commander’s other hand trailed downward, towards Dream’s waistline. Dream’s breathing noticeably stuttered.
“Wilbur- Wilbur!” Dream saying his name enraptured him, and he pulled away with a slick ‘pop,’ causing the man to shudder. “This could change this. Rethink this.” His voice was shaky, but his hands were on Wilbur’s, holding them in place. Wilbur looked at him and grinned.
“You’re not in a position to be giving orders, Dream.” He murmured. Dream’s eyes widened, panic swelling in his chest. He let out a surprised, nervous laugh, his nerves sparking like lighting. The tone in Wilbur’s voice was almost threatening, and Dream liked it. The blond closed his eyes tightly, feeling his face burn as he felt Wilbur’s hands creep lower on his torso, feeling his pelvis.
Dream’s body tensed, and he trembled, the commander slipping his thumbs under his waistline and pulling his brown sweats down. Suddenly, Wilbur was shushing him, his voice soft and caring.
“Shh, shh- It’s okay, Dream. Breathe.” Dream didn’t even realize he’d started hyperventilating until Wilbur said something. He felt Wilbur wipe away the tears that escaped his eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you. Just be good, okay?” Dream nodded his head, unable to meet the other man’s eye.
“Ye-yeah, yeah… I’m good, dude.” Dream breathed, and Wilbur grinned. Wilbur gave him a final, soothing hush, spitting on his hand and pulling out Dream’s hard cock. Dream trembled, his nerves spiking. He looked up to meet Wilbur’s eyes, and that only seemed to make him all the more enthused to continue.
“You’re so cute, Clay” Wilbur mused. Dream gulped in a breath when the commander squeezed his shaft, stroking lightly. Dream groaned softly, and Wilbur leaned in, pressing his lips to the blond’s lovingly. The kiss was one-sided, with Wilbur biting and sucking at Dream’s lip as the speedrunner’s brain tried to catch up. With a few strokes of his prick, the larger man managed to coax the blond into reciprocating his advances- With which Wilbur found endearingly hesitant.
Dream sucked on Wilbur’s tongue softly, kitten licking his lips. Wilbur groaned into Dream’s mouth, using the blond’s precum to slicken his grip on his cock.
“C’mon Clay, I’m not done just yet.” He urged, encouraging the sudden obedience. He remained careful in his movements, trying not to start another round of stubborn pride. “C’mon pretty boy.” Dream reluctantly let himself give in to Wilbur- his enemy of war. Wilbur happily watched as Dream humped into his fist, his arm thrown over his face to hide his eyes.
The brunet teased the tip of Dream’s arousal, smearing precum along the head. The freckled man threw his head back with a whimper as he tried to buck further into Wilbur’s fist. The commander bit his lip, lowering his hand down to rub at the base of Dream’s cock. The blond moaned, quivering and pressing into his hand. Wilbur could’ve watched the SMP leader fall apart for hours- but he didn’t have that. He had at most 15 more minutes before George came back to see if everything was okay.
The Brit was annoying, Wilbur thought. He was always with Dream, and he was always there when Dream set destruction upon L’manburg. What did George have that he didn’t?
No need to think about that now, Wilbur grinned. He had Dream right where he wanted him. Maskless, showing off a face more beautiful than his fantasies supplied and writhing beneath him.
Wilbur let his hand trail downwards, down the curve of his ass. Dream jumped, and the brunet frowned as his breath began to quicken again.
“Will- Wilbur-” Dream whispered, chest tight. Wilbur hushed him gently, pressing his finger against his opening. Dream’s eyes locked onto the commander’s.
“It’s okay. I won’t hurt you, Clay…” Wilbur murmured, his voice thick with arousal. When Wilbur pressed in, Dream let out a strangled groan. The older man was well aware that his fingers were hardly slick enough, but he didn’t have the time to spare. Dream could handle a little discomfort. He made quick work of the prep- he thrust his finger as controlled as he could. Watching Dream bite into his lip harshly and subconsciously try to move away from him only made his hard-on worse, he wanted to just take him as he is. But if he was being honest, he liked the build up a little too much.
“I’m putting in the second one..” He whispered, watching Dream’s face intently. He was flushed, his cheeks a bright red, and his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to control his breathing. Wilbur definitely preferred this over the cocky hellraiser hiding behind a mask. He worried his lip between his teeth, going ahead and pushing in his ring finger.
Dream let out an audible whimper, and Wilbur felt like he was going to burst if he didn’t fuck him right then. There was no sign of the previously confident speedrunner, not a single sign that this was the same person that killed him and his friends countless times. Wilbur pulled his hand away, scooting forward and hiking Dream’s legs up, pulling him closer. Dream grunted but remained otherwise silent. Good.
Wilbur reached down and pulled out his cock, spitting on his hand and making quick work of himself. His chest felt airy, and he pressed himself against Dream’s ass. Dream’s face told Wilbur he was scared- unsure of what to expect. The taller man leaned down to kiss Dream’s cheek, and he chuckled at the way Dream covered his face in embarrassment.
Wilbur took care pressing in, but Dream’s breathing immediately turned into hyperventilation.
“Wait, wait, wait-” Dream begged, unable to control his panic. Wilbur leaned down, wrapping his arms around the blond and holding him in place as he thrust forward softly. The younger man grunted, throwing his head back. The brunet took the opportunity to suck and kiss at Dream’s neck. The shorter trembled in his arms.
Wilbur took a deep inhale. Dream was here, in his arms. He was inside of him, and it was intoxicating. “You’re too fucking big-” Dream wheezed, sounding like he was trying to laugh. When Wilbur pulled away, surprised at the sudden profanity, he watched with interest as tears streamed down his face. He wiped them away gently, cooing at Dream and trying to soothe him. Wilbur sat up, holding the blond’s thighs. Then he noticed.
Wilbur pulled out, and thrust back in experimentally. He stared in awe at the way his cock shifted, the outline visible under Dream’s skin.
“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He breathed, eyes practically stars at the new revelation. He leaned back over, taking Dream back into his arms and forcing his head into the crook of Dream's neck. He thrust forward, groaning at the feeling. The speedrunner let out a pitiful whine, but to Wilbur, it was just the same as an angel’s song. The brunet began to fuck into Dream at a steady pace, the blond instinctively wrapping his arms around Wilbur for support. The sickening squelch that came from where they were connected spurred Wilbur on, but it sure didn’t help Dream’s withered pride.
“Ngh-! Wilbur-!” He cried, unable to do anything but pull him closer. The commander pressed as close as he could against Dream, and the man keened. “Oh- God!” He hissed, rutting back against Wilbur’s thrusts.
“God, Clay, you sound wonderful!” Wilbur moaned, a little breathless at the sudden reciprocation. He ground his hips against Dream’s, abusing all of the best places inside of him. Dream panted, his nails digging dangerously into Wilbur’s back. The taller pressed his hand against the other man’s belly, feeling himself enter the man’s body. He groaned, leaning in to nip at the blond’s neck.
Dream’s voice was angelic as he cried out to him- for him. Wilbur was the one who did this- Wilbur was the one who made him feel like this.
“Have you ever done this with anyone else, Clay?” Wilbur asked, voice gravelly. Dream shook his head, grimacing.
“No- no, never with-” Dream’s voice broke, “Never with a guy.” He admitted. Wilbur’s cock ached at the admission, even with Dream clenching around him. The commander sucked a particularly large hickey onto the man’s jawline, feeling a high. The blond’s mind clouded, his brain short-circuiting as Wilbur fucked into him relentlessly. “Please-” He whispered. Wilbur perked up.
“Please, I’m so close-” Dream begged. When Wilbur didn’t otherwise acknowledge him, Dream made a frustrated noise. “Dude- I- I don’t want George to see-” He gasped, and Wilbur smiled against The SMP leader’s neck. He slowed his thrusts to a cruel pace, grinding against the man contently. Dream let out a sob of frustration.
“Oh, what would George think, Clay? What would he think of his leader getting fucked right under his nose?” Wilbur taunted, watching as Dream’s anxiety skyrocketed.
“Wilbur- Please don’t!” Dream begged, eyes watering in embarrassment. He felt stupid, getting teary-eyed, but he couldn’t help the fear of being seen like this. Wilbur gave a single, harsh thrust, and Dream let out a loud yelp. Dream shoved his hand against Wilbur’s chest playfully, but Wilbur kept his pace. Dream’s eyes closed as he tried to focus.
“Of course, just do something for me and I’ll get this over with quickly,” Wilbur whispered, his hips slapping against Dream’s ass. Dream shuddered, unable to stop the moan that escaped his lips.
“Fuck- anything!” He hissed, pressing his face against Wilbur’s shoulder. The commander grinned.
“Grant us our land.” He hummed. Dream choked, his grip on the man’s arms tightening. Dream looked up at Wilbur and glared with what defiance he had left.
“No- vUgh!” Wilbur ground his hips down in circles, nowhere near what Dream needed. They were on the clock, and Dream knew it. He let go of Wilbur’s arms, letting them hide his face. Dream had more to lose- at most George would kill Wilbur and he’d lose his stuff, but Dream would forever be seen by George like this- in the position he was currently in. Dream whimpered, running it over and over in his head.
“Tick tock, Clay.” Wilbur murmured, licking a stripe up Dream’s neck. Dream let out a groan of irritation.
“Fine! Okay! You can have your stupid-” Wilbur lifted Dream’s lower half, jackhammering against his prostate with as much force as he could muster. The blond reached up to grab the lapels of the commander’s coat, eyes dripping with tears from the sudden stimulation. The larger man pressed a kiss against Dream’s lips, which he greedily accepted. Dream moaned and whined against him, and Wilbur pulled away a hand to jerk the man off. Biting his lip, Dream knew couldn’t handle it all.
“Wilbur! Wilbur!” Dream sobbed out, closing his eyes. His jaw ajar, his entire body stiffened and he came in thick, white spurts against his and Wilbur’s chest. Wilbur stroked him past oversensitivity, enjoying the way his body clenched around him. Wilbur then pressed his face against Dream’s collarbone, taking in a deep inhale of his scent before letting out a loud moan as he came inside of the speedrunner. Dream’s body twitched at the feeling, but otherwise, he remained limp and unresponsive.
Wilbur pulled out, letting his seed drip out of the man beneath him. After a moment of concern, he realized that Dream had passed out. He watched Dream’s blank expression for a moment, standing up to tidy his clothes. The thought of taking Dream back to L’manburg was at the forefront of his mind. He’d love nothing more than to take the emerald-eyed beauty home with him-
“What the fuck did you do!?” Wilbur bristled, the sound of George’s voice literally the last thing he wanted to hear. He whipped around, but when George’s netherite sword pierced his chest, all he could do was grin.
Wilbur gripped onto the blade, letting it cut into his hand to take away the remaining health he had, satisfaction taking over from the fact that George knew. George knew what he did to his precious leader. The shorter man’s face was burning with hatred, and Wilbur watched as his eyes flickered towards Dream. Then, his vision went black. Damn- he hoped to make it out without losing all of his shit. At least he could respawn with a memory greater than he could've asked for. Oh, he guessed the new land for L'manburg wasn't too bad, either.