Dsmp oneshots

The quite boy

Focusing on one thing has never been easy for Wilbur.
In fact, he had long suspected that he had ADHD, but his father has continued to deny it until now and further.

So he sat here in class and listened to the teacher almost tensely. His attention continued to shrink and even the daydream ended.
He had almost forgotten his dream.
You probably couldn't believe it, but it didn't mean much to him anymore.
He couldn't understand why they were still in school on such a hot summer's day.

But of course the school system was built differently than he wished.
So he looked at the clock a 100th time, hoping that the time would pass a little faster.
Unfortunately for him, that's not how physics works, and it was still miserably slow.
With his pen he started to draw circles on his sheet of paper. Exactly, drawing on his paper might waste him some time.

So he started marking and defacing his worksheet. What else is there to do in math?

After completely ruining the paper and even the teacher giving up trying to stop him in any way, he looked at the clock.

It took him exactly 10 minutes to do that. Not long enough for his liking.
Annoyed, he ran his hands through his brown hair and started looking around again.
Letting his gaze wander, he saw his bank neighbors.
It was the quiet boy that somehow everyone knew but wasn't really friends with. To say he was popular was an understatement. The girls are practically at his feet.

Because he didn't talk or do much, he was labeled a "badboy" or "quitekid".

Even Wilbur had to admit that the boy was handsome. Well not really handsome, more like irresistible.

How he would like to run his fingers through those blond curls and stare into those green eyes that always seem do burn like poison if you starred to long.
He liked watching his muscles flex when he moved and how his eyes always darted over to the blackboard to write notes down. The brown-haired assumed that the other played football or at least must have played with a body the blond one had.
Why hadn't he observed the blond earlier?
There was so much to see there.
From the freckles, which were almost heart-shaped at times, to the piercings.

His green eyes were forward, but something about his expression told Wilbur that the older one knew he was watching him.
Whether it was the twinkle in his eyes or the slight grin dancing on his red lips.

Just as the blonde turned to face him, he looked down. Pretending to start drawing on his thigh.
The other watched him and Wilbur was forced to actually draw on his leg.
So he grabbed the first pen he could find and started drawing a rose on his leg.

In his opinion he was good at drawing, not like this talented prodigy but good enough for a 1.

Just as he was done, the blonde scooted closer to him.
As if they weren't sitting close enough next to each other, no, the blond boy slides a little closer.

The younger raised his eyes and looked questioningly at the blond.
He, on the other hand, just raised a light blue pen and pointed to Wilburs thigh with his free hand.
After a moment he understood. Wilbur sat down differently and let the other person draw on his leg as well.

When he thought about it, he had never seen Dream, that's what Wilbur called him, his real name was Clay, drawing.
After realizing it, he was delighted to see him doing it. But had to realize annoyed that the panel painting had changed and he should copy it first.

Giving a brief protest to noone in particular, he got to work.
Although math was one of his strengths, he was often not enthusiastic about actually using it.
As he worked to copy the slate, he often had to suppress his smile because the pen tickled his skin.
He was positively surprised when a cold shiver ran down his back because apparently Dream wore rings.

He had never noticed this before and looked down at his leg.
As he suspected, he could see rings on Clay's hand, connected by a silver chain.

He let his eyes rest on the rings for a moment and thought about how arousing it would feel if they were to be placed around his neck.
He quickly shook his head and continued to copy. Of course he had often thought about his first love like that, but now that he was sitting right next to him, he preferred to avoid embarrassing situations.

After he was done, he looked down at Dream again.
He was now finished with his drawing and sat up straight again.
Wilbur, on the other hand, looked at the drawing for the first time.

It was a dragon, he had drawn it in the Japanese style.
It was light blue and white.
He admitted it to himself, it looked like something out of an anime.

The drawing was enchanting and magical. It looked like the dragon was about to sneak up his thigh.
He loved it and wished he could get it tattooed today.
He looked up at Dream and beamed at him.
The blond gave him a small smile and stroked the drawing again.

Wilbur figured he wanted to make sure the drawing was completely dry.
After Dream had turned to the front again and started to copy the blackboard painting, Wilbur did something else.

He grabbed a pen and wrote very small next to the dragon: -Clay.
If he later wanted to know who it was from. Even if he feared that he would never forget this event again.
Especially not after what happened next. After a short time, dream was apparently finished with the panel painting and now wanted to go back to drawing on the brown-haired one.

He picked up his pen again and pointed the tip toward Wilbur's thigh.

Confused and surprised, Wilbur nodded and sat back down so that Dream could reach his thigh.
When Dream started drawing on his thigh again, Wilbur watched him do it.
This time he wanted to watch what he was doing.
The blond, on the other hand, didn't seem to be bothered and continued to write.

After a moment he picked up his pen and sat up straight. The younger looked down at his thigh and tried to decipher what he saw upside down.

Ma Waste Wastakeu Wastaken!
The blond had his last name written on his thigh.

While Wilbur had tried to make out what was written there, Clay had watched him do it. Grinning and laughing softly, since the other mumbled it to himself.
Wilbur looked questioningly up at the blond again.
Why did he just write his name on his thigh like that?

Dream put the pen down and gently slid his hand down Wilbur's thigh. There he squeezed gently and leaned over to his ear.

He whispered quietly, "I think my last name suits you well, you should take it." After he said that, the school bell rang.

Dream sat back and put his stuff away. Wilbur was frozen. His head had completely shut down and he was shocked.
Never in his life would he have believed that Dream would do something like that, especially not with him.

When Dream finished putting his stuff together, he smiled at the brunette again and increased the pressure on his thigh for a second.

Then he got up and left the room. He didn't even look at Wilbur, but he knew the blonde was grinning and had to bite back a laugh.
Even after leaving the room, Wilbur could still feel his hand on his thigh.

The spot was warm now and he could still slightly feel Dream's hand. Hoping that he would never forget this moment he started to put everything together.