#wilder: bash

Wilder’s bad at asking hard questions, pretty good at avoiding it. They’ve been sitting for twenty five minutes with their notebooks and Wilder’s cheek is smushed against his fist, watching. Doesn’t know Mary personally outside of their Backpack Survival class, but knows Mary is Bash’s friend and he’s been hearing some stuff and really, he just doesn’t know how to engage. So, he does what he’s good at, minds the silly stuff. “I heard for the final project we might get dropped off somewhere random and have to find our way?” Figures Bash might know more than he does because he looks like he pays more attention in class. @whathebash​ 

While Wilder hadn’t managed to get on any of his instructor’s good sides, he was wildly popular among the kitchen staff at Gallagher, enough so that he often found himself in the kitchens most of his free time. He had planned, when he finished baking that day, to text Bash about hanging out like he’d promised. If he was going to give Bash his baking, he wanted to give it to him fresh and still warm or not at all. Seeing the other boy sitting alone with headphones in, however, was a more pleasant surprise, and he smiled before even heading over. Dropping his bag on the table, he slid in beside him, consistently terrible at warning people of his presence. “Hey!” he smiled, before he was even sure if Bash could hear him over whatever music was playing. “I was looking for you.” @whathebash​

In Halloween party fashion, Wilder sees Bash at the treats table first, and the instinct to point at him in shock like he’d done in the past is strong. Points anyway, against what his mom had taught him, but offers him a silly grin instead before coming over. “Look at us, two pancakes in a stack.” Is this the brunch version of two peas in a pod? He’s not surprised he got a friend, he just hopes Bash isn’t like, disappointing or something. “Don’t worry, we don’t have to dance or anything.” Loves a good jive though! Lets his gaze wander the dessert table, even though he’d set it up. “Oh, I have something for you. Guess it worked out, yeah?” @whathebash​ 

💬 wilder ⇆ bash

Wilder wanted to spend the weekend doing tourist things, because he’s a tourist first and spy second. Or maybe spy third or fourth or fifth, there’s definitely a few things he could put before that if he thinks hard enough. It’s too bad he doesn’t like most museums, with his short attention span and the lack of desire to stare at art pieces that don’t make sense to him. It’s the National Air & Space Museum that makes him giddy. He even springs out of bed that morning excited (after the third alarm, of course). They’ve been there for a little bit already, now they’re finally getting to the good stuff (in his very nerdy opinion). Airplanes are super fucking cool, but there’s an entire sci-fi exhibition on Star Trek and Star Wars and A Space Odyssey (Which Wilder knows less about). Wilder smiles to himself seeing Bash stare at something in the Star Trek section, walks up behind him and peers over. “I got you something.” He laughs quietly, coming up beside him and putting his hand out, “From the gift shop. They’re Spock ears. A pair for you, a pair for me.” It’s pretty embarrassing, but when has he ever cared? “Might look a little funny, but when else are we gonna have an excuse?” His smile is soft, but he’s really excited behind it. @whathebash​

Wilder, standing far across the chapel at an inaudible distance, met eyes with Bash for a mere second (which was all he needed to lose his focus on the conversation he was having, given his short attention span). His lips stretched into a Donna-esque from Parks & Rec smile as he pointed, which his mother would have hated, at Bash for an extended amount of time, thrilled to see his friend out and about. Scooting past the group of people that surrounded him, a few of which looked irritated by him leaving mid story, he nudged his head for Bash to join him. “Dude, I love this for you! I wish I'd thought of it, to tell you, so I could pretend it was my idea.” he laughed, “You shoulda told me. I could have come as Tantor or something.” No, not Clayton or the Professor, but Tantor. @whathebash​

It’s hard not to think he dreamed it. Wilder wakes up actually unsure if he did dream kissing Bash, it wouldn’t be the first time. Of course, the two other times it happened had been weird dreams all around: elephants, Gallagher in the style of Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory, Marifer as a ginger. Just wrong all around. And he’d always woken up feeling odd and awkward, and a little guilty, not giving himself the breathing room to realize what his mind had been trying to tell him for months. But this time was different. He felt...light. Refreshed. Understood. He felt a tingle tinge his chest turquoise, like shallow water to dip his toes into. The color of energy, of balance, patience, wholeness. He thought about the kiss and nothing else for the entire day. By the evening he felt his insides might be completely blue. He gave himself that day knowingly, so that the next day he could sit and think about what happens when you wake up from a dream. He and Marifer had planned to leave for California in the morning, and Wilder didn’t want to go without saying bye to everyone important to him. The campus spent the week filled with crowds of students loading their rides and dragging their luggage. Wilder weaves through people to find Bash where he’d asked to meet him, which was nowhere in particular because he’s bad with specifics, so they’re both lucky Wilder could spot Bash in a crowd with his eyes closed. “Hey.” Wilder breathes out, smiling wide. He’s happy to see him, but doesn’t want to seem too eager. “All packed? I keep feeling like I’m gonna forget something.”  @gallagherisms​