Irl DreamSMP oneshots

He cried over the memories but lack of emotion attached to them (crimeboys)

This one shot may contain inappropriate language and/or inappropriate scenes
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Side note — Thanks for all the requests guys! We will be starting with the classic crimeboys!
Requested by @MarsGum
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Warnings — I'm choosing not to use them as to not ruin the story! Continue with caution
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Content Creators — Tommyinnit and Wilbur Soot
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The small moments are the moments Tommy truly enjoyed with Wilbur – not the ones on stream, or when they're in bigger groups; it was when they were alone, together. It was when they talked about anything that came to mind; when Tommy would help Wilbur with lyrics or listen to the drafts of his songs; when Wilbur would indulge the random ideas that came to Tommy's mind; it was when they could be them, together.

In so, it wasn't unusual for them to reference previous nights – arguments that have been argued, teasing over stupid things done, movies they had watched, and Tommy's favourite, rubbing it in when Wilbur lost a bet. Tommy wouldn't say it was his favourite thing to do... just his second favourite thing to do. You couldn't blame him; really, Wilbur was a really bad loser so it made it all that much funnier.

But what was unusual was the blank stare Tommy received upon bringing up the Mario kart win from the night before. The blank stare wasn't a reaction Tommy had ever received from Wilbur before. Wilbur's usual reactions would be a roll of the eyes, or he'd ruffle Tommy's hair amusingly, or he'd even just playfully ignore him – but never the blank stare. He knew Wilbur was a sore loser, but it never went this far; rather he'd just make Tommy feel guilty about gloating in his dickhead of a way.

Tommy drew his lips into a line as he leant back in his office chair; he watched as Wilbur's blank stare swiftly changed into one of confusion. Tommy didn't think there was anything to be confused about... unless all that 'being a musician stuff' finally got to Wilbur's head. Tommy had warned him that all famous people eventually turn to drugs- Wilbur didn't want to be a druggie did he? But noooo, no one listened to Tommy and you see what happened? And while that may have just been a lie so Wilbur wouldn't go on tour and leave him, he didn't have to know that.

A few more moments went by and the expression hadn't left Wilbur's face, nor a word. Tommy couldn't lie, it was a bit unsettling. By now, Wilbur would've come up with some retort or just a plain old insult. But Wilbur remained cross-legged on his bed, facing Tommy, and eyeing him skeptically. Tommy fidgeted uncomfortably on his chair and brought his legs up to his chest; would the bastard just say something already?

Tommy cleared his throat, "Uh, Wilbur?"

Wilbur's head subtly shook side to side before he met Tommy's eye. Tommy let out a relieved sigh as the previous expression that held on Wilbur's face stopped, and changed to one of thought. "Sorry Toms, can you just uh.. can you repeat what you just said? Please?" Wilbur asked, a subtle plead in his tone but Tommy didn't think much of it.

Tommy rolled his eyes – he knew the 'being a musician stuff' was getting to his head; he knew it. "I said," Tommy began, making sure that Wilbur was paying attention this time (he really didn't want to have to keep repeating himself for his, obviously, high brother). "You shouldn't be so cocky considering you lost the game of Mario kart last night."

Wilbur seemed to still and began processing the words, his eyebrows were furrowed in confusion once more. Really, Tommy had no idea what Wilbur was so confused about – it wasn't like Tommy just demanded he recite the goddamn digits of pi or something. Tommy wrapped his arms around his legs and awaited a response from Wilbur, because clearly he was having a hard time processing things.

"Tommy?" Wilbur finally spoke; he sounded almost hesitant to respond.

Tommy furrowed his eyebrows and frowned, "what?"