Antique Secrets

Chapter 9: Touch Tone Telephone

Summary:
Listen, Dream might not be the brightest crayon in the box...

That's it.

Notes:
Dream you glorified dumbass /pos

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He's so,,, I can't with him. Why is he like this? How is one man so lovable but so stupid?

No trigger warnings for this chapter, only Wilbur's slowly crumbling sanity. So watch out for falling rocks, I guess.

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

Chapter Text
Nervous fingers tapped against the back of his phone case, spare hand worrying at the hem of his skirt. Er, ‘skort’ technically, if that was even the word for it. He really needed to invest in clothes that weren’t divinely gifted. Had he pissed off XD the other day or something?

If he had, this outfit was definitely punishment. Just about every slightly chilly breeze bred new goosebumps over his skin, heeled boots begging to give him a fractured ankle. And to think this was on the one day he’d planned to take the initiative and talk to someone. But no, naturally, Dream wasn’t allowed to be comfortable.

Which made actually making this phone call he wanted to make supremely difficult. He had Techno’s number, he wanted to use it, but he didn’t want to go outside dressed like this . Confident he may be, clumsy he is also. And cold. At least inside he could wrap himself in one of his new blankets and play off-brand flappy bird.

Or, at least, he would have if not for someone very rudely knocking on his door. Like, yeah, he had two roommates but this was his apartment room. He could choose to stay hermitted inside all day if he wanted to.

“Hey Dream? You alive in there?” Sapnap called from the otherside of the door. Called, like Dream had been planning to do on his phone before God decided to actively try and kill him. How unfortunate, he must kill God now in retribution. Poor XD, he would not be getting flowers for the funeral.

“Yeah! Do you need something?” Please say no, please say no, please say no. Dream tugged at the bottom of his skirt, pulling it tight to barely brush his knees. The blanket slid from his shoulders. At least the top was nice, sort of like an off the shoulder pirate looking thing, but that was only barely a silver lining.

“Can you go with George to his practice? He doesn’t want to go alone and my practice is in a completely different building,” Sapnap explained through the solid cork door, voice muffled by the admittedly pretty thick walls. Fuck, that meant it was his decisions.

Pros and cons, pros and cons. On one end of the spectrum, he would be freezing his ass off if he went outside. On the other end, he was being given a chance to make more friends. Dream liked friends, he was a pretty extroverted guy. Then again, the more he walked, the more likely he was to fall. Could he take off the shoes? Probably. Dream worried his lip before deciding ‘fuck it’.

“Sure! Just give me a minute,” And Dream had just sealed his fate, immediately regretting those words but if nothing else, at least George was hot. Wait, what kind of practice even was this? Damnit, another instance of him not thinking things through. He really had to stop doing that. Knowing himself, though? Definitely going to happen again.

“He’s waiting on the couch!” Sapnap’s voice drifted before becoming inaudible, presumably leaving to go to his practice. At least that would Dream could guess was boxing, even if all he had to go off of was the gift XD ‘intended’ to be Sapnaps’. Or the game intended? Semantics.

Shrugging off the blanket, and already missing its warmth, Dream stood. He leaned with one hand against his bedside table, ankles shaking. Whoever said heels were easy to walk on was a fucking liar. His own mother was a witch and so was anyone else who could wear these things. Dream was suffering.