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our love written on a bathroom wall

Summary:

“GeorgeNotFound is LIVE!”, it read at the corner of his screen.

Gulping down his dry throat, Wilbur didn't even feel himself click onto the live notification, flickering his eyes all around his monitor. He listened to the hyper music playing as he mentally prepared himself, not knowing why he felt so shaky.

Wilbur felt off, something was definitely wrong with him. He was fascinated with the man on his screen, butterflies fluttering up his throat, desperate to fly away. Part of him wished he could speak to him, ask him why he was so attractive and captivating.

----

or where Wilbur is whipped for a twitch streamer

Notes:

i had a whole list of things i was gonna add and i just remembered it LMAO i need to stop rushing myself

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Wilbur’s eyes flicked from his laptop screen to the professor, biting harshly on his lip. He was debating asking to use the bathroom, too nervous to move from his seat. He had 20 minutes until the lecture was over, determined to make it, his ever increasing panic being shoved down.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to sing a song he's been writing in his head to pass the time. Nodding to the imaginary beat, he tried to sing in his head.

“It's 3:45,” he bit his lip harder, thinking of someone screaming “AM!”, chuckling lightly.

He smiled a bit to himself, “and I just bit my tongue”.

He reopened his eyes, looking at the clock once more. 15 more minutes. “Update me on your life.”

“And now you've found the one,” he whispered, slowly slipping into his own world. He giggled, running his fingertips along the surface of his desk. The wood was cold in some places, causing Wilbur to linger on those spots longer, his hands on fire.

“But I don't like his eyes,” fully concentrating on his song, he didn't realize the professor was starting to wrap up. Everything around him seemed quiet in his mind, just the sounds of his bandmates talking amongst the drumming, muffled but clear.

“And I distrust their name,” Wilbur sang, blinking at his bright laptop screen, “and I hate their haircut.”

“They look like a prick,” he spat, startling himself, his mind shouting “A PRICK!”.

The sounds of chairs screeching against the tiled floor made Wilbur jump, frantically looking around the room as the students left their desks. Gathering his items as quickly as possible, Wilbur shoved his unnecessary embarrassment down his throat, running out to the bathroom. His mind was a jumbled mess, a million thoughts of uneasy scenarios fluttering through, his legs moving as quick as he possibly could.

He hugged his bag to his hip, bursting inside the small bathroom, practically running to the sinks. Wilbur splashed a bit of water on his face, rubbing it into his skin, letting the icy feel of it shake his senses awake. He had been in college for a few months. Not letting his anxiety take over, he persevered through his hellscape of a mind through his classes. Wilbur was overwhelmed, tired, and afraid, but he knew he had no other options.

Sprinkling some water on his hair, he ran his fingers through the mess of brown, attempting to catch a glimpse of it. Wilbur turned to the mirror, trying to smile at his reflection, his face dripping and his hands shaking. To be completely honest, he didn’t know how badly he was shaking, too focused on trying to get by to care. He flicked his eyes all over his face, a water droplet falling off his hair, onto his nose. He watched it make its way down to his lips, puffing them out so all the water flew off.

He shook his head, looking down at his hands on the pristine sink. He reached over to the paper towel machine, ripping some out before aggressively wiping his face. Gazing at the foggy mirror for the final time, Wilbur noticed some writing on it, peeking his interest as he made out the words.

“Follow me on twitch so I can drop out <3 @ georgenotfound”

Wilbur laughed, covering his mouth as he heard someone shuffle around in a stall behind him, not letting his blush stay on his cheeks for too long. Quickly writing the username in his phone, Wilbur smiled down at it, making a mental note to check this georgenotfound fellow out after his next lecture.

 

Sitting at his laptop, he stared at the twitch dashboard asking him to log in. He bit his lip, trying to think of a username, nothing popping out spectacularly to him. He frowned, typed his name, and hit enter. He put a weird, edited image he found of himself as his profile picture, forgetting his reason for even making an account; Wilbur was lost in customizing his channel.

His eyes flicked over the screen, satisfied with the progress he made, suddenly remembering his main mission. He scrambled to grab his phone, pulling up the twitch channel swiftly. He barely had time to look at the channel, jolting when the person’s most recent broadcast immediately started playing.

Wilbur put it in fullscreen, tilting his screen back, spreading out his books and notes as he prepared for the stream to start fully. He wanted to study while he saw if the “georgenotfound” person was worth it, as mean as it sounded.

After a minute or two of music, Wilbur saw something flash from the corner of his eye, prompting him to look up. There sat a pale man with fluffy brown hair, a dopey smile on his face as he greeted his stream, his movements wild and excited. Wilbur was quick to pause the stream, his mouth dropping wide open. He blinked a couple of times, staring at the man with wonder, enthralled by the way he looked and presented himself. Wilbur looked down at his notes, feeling weird all of a sudden, biting his tongue hard. Looking at him made him feel odd; Wilbur has never felt this way for a stranger before, not even for anyone he knows personally. Something about the way his shirt loosely hung off his body, the way his dark brown eyes seemed to be warm and inviting, it all made Wilbur feel like he was suffocating.

He gazed at the man, eventually pressing play once again, immediately stopping when hearing his voice. Wilbur felt his heartbeat quicken, shakily playing the stream for the final time, forgetting his work completely. He sat and watched the man, named George, which made a lot of sense, play Minecraft until his roommates came home. He slammed his laptop screen and jumped up, embarrassed and flustered. His roommates didn’t question him.

When everyone left to their designated rooms, Wilbur plugged headphones into his laptop, cautiously opening his laptop like something was going to jump out and hurt him. He blinked at it, his blood stopping when he saw a red circle around George’s profile picture.

“GeorgeNotFound is LIVE!”, it read at the corner of his screen.

Gulping down his dry throat, Wilbur didn't even feel himself click onto the live notification, flickering his eyes all around his monitor. He listened to the hyper music playing as he mentally prepared himself, not knowing why he felt so shaky.

Wilbur felt off, something was definitely wrong with him. He was fascinated with the man on his screen, butterflies fluttering up his throat, desperate to fly away. Part of him wished he could speak to him, ask him why he was so attractive and captivating.

Finally noticing the chat moving, he read over some of the messages, chewing his lip. He wanted to say something, anything to get George’s attention. He doesn’t know why he feels so helpless and distraught, he just felt like he deserved a little bit of acknowledgment over him causing Wilbur’s breakdown.

He hovered over his keyboard, debating on what to write.

‘wilbursoot’ : hi!

Groaning, Wilbur sunk further into his uncomfortable bed, shutting his eyes.

“Hello wilbursoot! Welcome to my chat! I sense you’re new?”

Whipping his head upwards, said man felt his heart leap out his chest. He scrambled to type back.

‘wilbursoot’ : yeah! i found your promo in a bathroom, decided to pop by

George laughed, a loud laugh that surrounded Wilbur’s brain, drawing him in further. He smiled as George welcomed him some more, politely suggesting if he could follow. Hitting the button instantly, Wilbur smiled wildly as George laughed once more, thanking him before beginning his stream.

The stream lasted a few hours, not too long but not too short. Wilbur had tried keeping his laughs low and muffled, chewing on his headphone wires, not wanting to be questioned by his roommates. He quickly became an active chatter, gradually learning the chat etiquette and how to joke around. He even downloaded BTTV and FFZ, just so he could do PETTHEMODS each time weirdos came into chat, which seemed to be a regular thing.

By the time the stream ended, Wilbur couldn’t rid himself of his smile, feeling a new feeling of delight. He could feel his cheeks starting to hurt and his head feel light, going through George’s twitch panels to follow the rest of his social media. He watched all the youtube videos on George's channel, guilt eating at him for being so obsessive over this man who went to his university.

Wilbur’s smile dropped.

George went to his university. George is trying to drop out of his university. George, the guy with less than a thousand followers, the guy who averages less than 100 viewers, the guy he could possibly see when going to class. The guy that could possibly leave the school for good.

Wilbur suddenly felt very sick.

Shutting his laptop down, he moved it off his bed, shuffling into the covers. He suddenly felt tired. He kept his eyes closed, attempting to clear his mind, hoping sleep would overtake him.

 

He couldn’t understand how this even happened. Wilbur had been to every single GeorgeNotFound stream, thanking him for having similar schedules, being as active as possible to become a regular. Now he’s sitting with a green icon next to his name, a sword sitting pretty inside it. Wilbur is a mod in George’s chat. None of the other mods were present and he felt so nervous, frantically googling how to do his job before anything bad happened.

Next thing he knew, George was answering and replying to his jokes in chat more often. Nearly every message he sent was read and acknowledged by the streamer himself. It gave Wilbur a new type of confidence, a new type of adrenaline that coursed through his veins each message he sent. He just wanted to make him laugh.

He casually tweeted a thank you to George for mod, he really didn’t expect much of it. So when George ended the stream and Wilbur had finally calmed down, the last thing he thought would happen was the notif “GeorgeNotFound followed you back!”.

Wilbur stared at his phone, blinking dumbly at it, his whole body freezing before a big smile broke out. He let out a loud and chipper laugh, his heart feeling warm. He rushed to his dms, typing out a quick thank you. He giggled at his phone as he watched twitter send the message.

“What the fuck are you looking at, Wil?”

Turning off his phone and tossing it aside, Wilbur looked up, seeing Tommy standing in his doorway, a quizzical look and a raised eyebrow. He cleared his throat, causing Tommy to laugh.

“Nothing important,” he tried to say, his voice shaking a bit. He swore in his head, watching as Tommy walked up to him with uneasiness. “How’d you even get in?”

“Jack let me in.”

“Ah.”

They looked at each other, Wilbur chewing on his lip as he felt his phone vibrate from somewhere behind him. Tommy’s eyes shifted to where it was lying, taking a step forward.

Panicking, Wilbur stuffed his device in his pocket, biting his lip hard enough for it to bleed. Tommy slouched his shoulders, glaring at the other before shaking his head.

“What will I do with you?”, he joked, giving him a large grin.

Wilbur’s phone buzzed once more, making him turn visibly stiff.

“Just look at the fucking phone, Wil.”

Without a second thought, he opened his phone, his mind racing so fast that he didn’t understand the words on the screen. He blinked down at them, feeling nervous as he could see Tommy inch his way closer to him.

‘George : No problem!’

‘George : It was long overdue’

Wilbur felt like he was a teenager again, mass amounts of awkwardness and delight rushing through his body, drenching his heart with warmth and cool. It felt like a dam had broken somewhere in his body, letting all his anxieties and wants wash over him. He gazed at the too bright screen, his thoughts flowing like river water, rapidly moving.

He twiddled with his thumbs, trying to think of a response, ignoring the abnormality of getting this giddy about George. He looked over at Tommy like he had the insight of what was happening in his phone.

‘wilby :] : now youre stuck with me >:)’

‘wilby :] : wait that sounds bad you can unfollow me’

‘wilby :] : ignore me’

‘George : What happened to that oh so confident Wilbur that mods my chat?’

‘wilby :] : to reach him you’ll have to wait 3 - 5 business days’

‘George : Can I leave a message?’

‘wilby :] : after the tone’

‘wilby :] : beep’

‘George : I remember you saying you found out about me in a bathroom’

‘wilby :] : thank you for recording your message, goodbye’

‘George : WILBUR’

‘wilby :] : to reach him you’ll have to wait 3 - 5 business days’

Putting down his phone, he focused on Tommy, who was now sitting beside him on his phone. He gave Wilbur a knowing look before going back to whoever he was texting. Glancing down at his phone, Wilbur saw George typing, his heart starting to beat faster. It was going to be a long day.

 

George was a different breed of human he’s decided, a person that he is blessed to know. Becoming his friend has helped Wilbur to understand he’s just an ordinary guy. He goes to his classes, eats takeout far too often, laughs a bit too loud at dumb jokes, but is so unapologetic of all of it. There was still something about George that made Wilbur feel anxious and on edge, something that made him too nervous to text first and would lead to a few days without contact.

Wilbur likes George, a lot. In a way he didn’t know he could like someone, in a way he didn’t know he could like a boy. He has never questioned his sexuality as hard as he has been since seeing George for the first time.

He always thought he liked girls. Maybe he still does, Wilbur has no idea. From the way George smiles at him during their facetimes, scrunches up his nose whenever Wilbur “jokingly” flirts with him, compliments his selfies on his selfie days, just being so cute with his antics, it makes him wonder if anyone else could ever suffice.

Girls were good, even though he hasn't gotten the best luck with them, they were good. They were soft and sweet and warm, their bright personalities and plush bodies; they were delicate and small compared to Wilbur. He loved them before he met George, he loved them so much but was shy and timid, too nervous to form crushes after being rejected a lot during his teen years. But with George it felt like his brain and heart didn’t hesitate at all, wrapping a rope around his ankles and yanking it, dragging him beneath the warm water.

Wilbur was brushing his teeth when he heard his phone ring, his tiredness rushing out his body when he realized it was George. He didn’t like having ringtones, or having his sound on unless necessary, but he made sure whenever the other messaged or called him he’d know instantly. Mindlessly brushing and walking, Wilbur answered the facetime, putting his phone down so George wouldn’t see the mess of a morning he’s had.

“Wilbur!”, yelling, George giggled, a big and bright smile pasted on his face.

“Gogy!”, he gurgled, spitting out right as George said something. “What was that?”

“I have a question, and I’d like to see your face when I ask it.”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Wilbur glanced in the mirror, wiping the side of his mouth before lifting his phone. George had his signature smile on his face, but there was a weird look in his eyes. “What is it?”

“So y’know how you found me?”

Blood running cold, nerves capturing his heart, his body feeling numb as he nodded. He was so scared of what George was about to say, a million thoughts whizzing by.

“That means we go to the same uni, right?”

Nodding, Wilbur couldn’t even tell if he was breathing.

“I just thought we could, uh, meet up? Because I don’t know if I told you this or not but, um, I’m dropping out. So I'll be moving away from this place.”

Wilbur blinked at his screen that was a bit too bright, hurting his tired and sensitive eyes. He tried to think of a response, something to show how nervous and excited and scared he felt, but nothing left his mouth. He felt overwhelmed. George was chewing on his lip, looking cautious and slowly more panicked by every second Wilbur didn’t speak.

“I-”, his voice cracked, making him clear his throat, hating the fear in George’s eyes as he tried to chuckle. He was about to say something to Wilbur, maybe backtrack and say how stupid he was for thinking he wanted to meet him. Wilbur hated that look.

He gave George a smile, trying to convey his emotions and reassurance, desperate to get rid of the tense air. “Yeah, that sounds lovely,” he managed to say, his smile growing wider as George squealed.

“What about we meet today? I’m moving out in a few days and I wanna spend the most time with you, is that okay? Oh god, I don’t even know if you're busy today.”

“George, it’s fine, baby,” Wilbur relished in the pink that tinted George’s pale skin from the pet name, making him grin. “I can always make time for you. Maybe 15:00? All my lectures should be done by then.”

“That works!!”

 

Wilbur and George texted for the entire day, discussing where they’d go and what they'd do, right up until it was time to get ready. Wilbur stared into his dirty mirror, picking at the loose strings of his jumper, his anxiety growing the more he looked into his eyes. He wondered if his eye bags were too visible, or if his hair looked messy in an unattractive way. He ripped one more strand off his sleeves, deciding it was a lost cause to rid his jumper of every bit of fabric, before walking out his door.

George had decided to meet up at a coffee shop on campus, somewhere they didn’t need to travel too far for. Wilbur was beyond anxious. He could barely process that he was walking, let alone breathing. His eyes were glued to the ground as he took steps, watching his feet hit the hard asphalt, the pounding noise surrounding his head.

When he pushed open the cafe’s doors, he saw the coffee shop was mostly empty, which made it incredibly easy to see a short man leap up from his seat. Wilbur’s eyes immediately locked onto him, his smile growing impossibly large as he recognized George. He had a loose sweater on, the sleeves landing an inch further than where his fingertips lied.

He looked cute, his smile bright and warm like the sun, drawing Wilbur in. It was like a spell the way he mindlessly went to the shorter, his arms instantly wrapping around George’s midsection. Holding him was something he never expected to do in his life, and the fact he’s doing it now, he could barely hold in his excitement. George was warm and soft, slotted delicately between his shoulder blades, his breath warming a spot on Wilbur’s chest. Squeezing him tightly, Wilbur tried to contain his excitement, his body erupting with joy.

He had George in his arms. George was in his arms and seemed so utterly happy to be in them. Wilbur nuzzled his nose in his hair, a strong smell of cinnamon and vanilla drugging his brain. He knew he was sober, he hadn’t drunk anything in weeks, but the way George was giggling and rubbing circles into his arms made him dizzy.

Wilbur bent down a bit, getting a better hug, smothering George with his wide frame and long arms. The smaller let out a whine, playfully hitting him away. Laughing, Wilbur backed up, still holding onto George, just looser. Wilbur couldn’t help but soak everything in, from the atmosphere of the coffee shop, to the way George was looking at him. He was so pretty, he couldn't help but stare.

“Hey.”

He could barely process George’s word, infatuated by the way his lips moved and his cheeks turning scarlet.

“Hi, baby.”

Groaning, George wiggled out of Wilbur’s arms, a stupid grin plastered to his face, trying to ignore Wilbur’s coos. He let out a loud laugh, letting go of the shorter, moving to sit in the booth.

“I can’t believe you’re real,” George started, shyly catching Wilbur’s glances, “You were right about saying you’re a giant.”

Biting his tongue as he grinned, the urge to make an inappropriate joke stirring his brain. He rested his elbows on the table as he leaned forward, watching as George blushed brighter. “You aren’t as tall as you think.”

Rolling his eyes, George mumbled something, his fingers tapping on the surface of his cup. Wilbur watched him, absentmindedly tracing his features, sucking on the inside of his cheek. He was desperate to hold George’s face, stare into his dark eyes before watching them flutter shut. He was so pretty, so breathtakingly beautiful. He was soft, but not in the way Wilbur’s past crushes were, who were all girls.

George had a gentle nature to him, but it was strong and rigid when need be. He’s very closed off, and to be completely honest, Wilbur was surprised by how much he knew about him. George was something special, and not just to Wilbur, but to the entire world. The way his lips were a rosy pink, the way his long hair fell in his eyes, his slender hands running through it, all of it was driving Wilbur off the wall.

By the end of their time together at the coffee shop, Wilbur was an absolute mess, his confident demeanor floating from low to high. George was blushing and brushing his hands across Wilbur’s body, fire erupting under the touch. This whole time he thought he was drowning in his love for George, but now that he’s directly in front of him, smiling at him like a million suns were hidden in his face, he realizes he’s being burned alive.

So when George rested his head on Wilbur’s arm on the way to the park, he could've sworn the fire department was going to be called. He was itching to reach out and hold his hand, his nails touching George’s knuckles every once in a while, barely being able to focus on what he was saying.

“What do you think about that, Wil?”

He hummed, pretending to think, tilted his head to look at him. George’s eyes were wide, his entire focus on him and nothing else. It made him forget everything he was going to say, his mouth running dry.

“I think that’s a fine idea, baby.”

George dove for Wilbur’s shoulder, burying his head in the thick material. Cackling, Wilbur stopped walking, wrapping George in his embrace, struggling to not bury his nose in his hair.

“You’re so dumb, all of the time,” George grumbled, squeezing his grip on the jumper tighter. Wilbur couldn’t help himself from running his hand through George’s hair, tugging it up so he could make eye contact. A small noise left George’s throat, his cheeks burning red. Wilbur bit his lip.

“And you have no idea what you do to me.”

Innocent eyes gazed up at him, blinking. Wilbur bit his lip harder, using every bit of strength to not dip low and kiss him.

“What would you do to me?”, a pure and honest question, unaware of the harm he did to Wilbur’s head

“For one, I want to kiss you,” Wilbur couldn't even control his words, his mouth running, “You’re just so… good. You're so good and handsome and meeting you today just drilled into my head how much I want you.”

Stunned, George stared up at him, his eyes flickering around. He was so deep in thought, his mouth opening and closing, something stuck on the tip of his tongue. Wilbur stood watching him, his anxiety catching up to him, his brain finally understanding the situation he put both of them in.

“Fuck, George, sorry. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. Or to make you uncomfortable. God, I’m so sorry.”

Continuing to stare, George gulped, slowly raising himself on his toes. Wilbur furrowed his eyebrows, time feeling like it was running a thousand times slower. George grabbed his chin, titling it further down, a light laugh leaving his lips. Wilbur was frozen.

Surging forward, George tenderly placed his lips on the other’s before fully kissing him. Wilbur stopped breathing, his heart jumping out of his chest, frantically searching for George’s. He could feel the shorter wrap his arms at the base of his neck, pressing harder, coaxing Wilbur to do something.

Swearing in his head, Wilbur gently placed his arms on George’s waist, finally kissing back. A small laugh and a sigh, they were standing in the middle of a park kissing.

Wilbur ignored the burn on his skin, in his lungs, everything that wasn’t George. His brain was screaming at him, not a single coherent thought in his head besides the boy kissing him.

When they broke apart, George’s red lips were grinning widely, his arms still wrapped around Wilbur. Diving back in, Wilbur littered George’s face with kisses, whispering how badly he wanted to do that. Giggling, George brought him up for another kiss, meshing their lips together in a confident way.

If Wilbur could, he’d kiss George everyday.

 

 

George announced on his twitter that he was going to have Wilbur on stream, his community going wild over their favorite mod meeting the streamer. He was nervous. They both were.

Wilbur was playing with George’s sweatpants' strings, trying to distract his head from his anxieties as he prepared the stream. George was going to stream with him, George was moving away in a few days, George wasn’t officially his, George, George, George.

“I can hear you thinking,” said man stated, turning to look over at him, away from his OBS.

“Yeah? What am I thinking about, baby.”

“For one, me, and second, you cannot call me baby on stream,” George went back to his screen, missing the frown that formed on Wilbur’s lips.

Grumbling, Wilbur pulled harshly on one of the strings, alerting George right as he hit the live button. Putting on his best puppy dog eyes, Wilbur tried to coax a kiss out of him, ignoring the chat members rushing to be first. Rolling his eyes, George pecked him quickly, thanking himself for making a starting soon screen months ago.

As George spoke to chat, Wilbur kept quiet, wanting to make his presence a surprise. He watched as George animated himself, laughing and reading chat with a dope smile. Wilbur couldn’t help but replicate. He was sitting in front of the man he found in a bathroom one anxious morning, thanking any higher power for letting things play out the way they did.

“Wil?”

Blinking, he noticed that George was staring at him expectantly, causing him to look over. He had switched to face cam. Not letting his smile falter, he waved his hand excitedly, struggling to read the rapid chat. They were calling him handsome, pretty, hot, all the compliments in the world followed by a keysmash. His smile grew.

‘is wilbursoot single??? hes so cute oml’

The tts read out, instantly cutting George’s sentence to a stop, making him look up at the screen. Wilbur awkwardly laughed, avoiding his eyes from the screen and George, who was being awfully silent.

“No, he’s not.”

The goofiest smile formed on Wilbur’s face, whipping his head back to George. He was pretending that his face wasn’t burning up, continuing to speedrun minecraft. Wilbur sat the rest of the stream smiling to himself, inching his way back to playing with George’s sweatpants' strings.

Notes:

lol whaaaat this totally isnt me projecting my old crush and i's situation and how i wish it went whaaaaaaa