Simpbur×Jared Oneshot

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Wilbur was sitting in the closet like the faggy waggy he is. He was watching Jared sleep like any normal lover would. Well maybe Jared doesn't know they're gay lovers yet.

Jared was laying on his side, it was cold, and he was ultimately alone. He was awake but he wouldn't open his eyes. He wasn't ready to bring himself into the real world. But as time passed and the day wasted away, he knew he had to get up.

Slowly one foot after the other he could feel the cold wood on his bare feet. Slowly running his hand through raven hair and making his way to his kitchen. The off white color tiles being cold to the touch as he poured his first cup of coffee for the day.

Wilbur heard Jared leave the room, well, watched too. He very skillfully climbed out from under the bed, aka hitting his head like three times. He went to the closet, reaching towards the back where Jared kept his hoodies. He held one in his hands, burying his head in it, almost moaning.

Jared sat idly at his counter, the coffee cup now empty aside from the few spare drops of what once was a coffee filled drink. The glass now cold as he sat there. Legs rested on the wood of the stool holding up Jared's almost limp body.

His nails further being dulled down as muscles worked to push them into the marble countertops. Mind foggy as the thoughts, no, hopes that he would eventually will himself to move from the barren room.

Soft knocks or maybe thuds could be heard echoing through the house. Vibrations making it's way through the floorboards and to Jared. Maybe just the cat? Such a soft thud surely couldn't be anything more than a mere cat.

With that, Jared pushed off from the counter, the coffee mug staring back at him. No, he will not move that mug from it's now permanent home on the counter. Soft thuds from his footsteps guided him back to his bedroom, the bedsheets cold and uninviting. The room dimly lit, and a small cat rested in the corner. Nothing looked to be out of it's original place, but the small piles of trash and clothes that was littered around the room didn't help to spot an irregularity. Jared crawled back into the bed, a sigh making it's way through his body before breaking the silence of the supposed human empty room.

When Wilbur heard Jared walk in, he had a literal heart attack. He completely froze, eyes widening to the point he looked like an owl. He watched Jared's every move, realizing how fucking bad this situation could turn out. After a few minutes of silence, he deems it okay to move.

Slowly, he made his way on to hiding in the closet. He was silent, having almost completely memorized where the floorboards would creak. The hoodie was still in his hands, the male gripping onto it so hard his knuckles were white.

He makes it about halfway in the closet, silently cheering himself in his mind. He's been closer to Jared before, but it was always planned out. And it was usually when he was asleep. He's knocked out of his proud thoughts when the back of his ankle smacks the wall. It wasn't loud, but to Wilbur it was the end of the world. He froze again, using the logic of 'if i stay still he won't see me' because wil dropped out in highschool.

Jared heard it. That soft thump. In the ill lit room, he lie there motionless. Heat starting it's course through his body as panic set it. The dull nails now seemingly a lot sharper as they dug into his palms, greeted by the sweat that started to pool there. Thumb rubbing subconsciously along his pointer finger, a call for comfort. The skin rough from the nights spent chewing the skin, ultimately providing no sense of safety to the man.

Waiting. He sat there in his sunken, worn bed. Interest and anticipation colliding, a fight to see which could take over his mind fully. No noise followed the previous sound that had alerted the once calm mind that Jared possessed. But that never caused a doubt in his mind that an unwanted presence had made itself known. Might as well return the favor.