don't starve oneshots - requests open buster

my hero! -- wilwes

**

wes flopped from his invisible prison and onto the ground, his hands patting against the surface hard just to keep himself up.

he gasped for breath without a sound, before he pushed himself up to glance at his savior.

a pale, raven-haired man, his hair formed with three cowlicks whilst he sported a red vest with black stripes, along with plain black pants, and the same goes for his shoes, (plain and black) staring down at him with the winter sunlight bouncing off of his figure gloriously, and as magnificent as it was, wes had to get up, scrambling to his feet with haste.

wes stood there for a moment, staring at the other man who had the oddest look among his bloodied features whilst wes stared, stared, and stared..

and then, wes lunged at the other man, enveloping him into a hug.

the other man jumped, his rugged looks featuring quite the surprised face before, hesitantly, he hugged the other back hungrily, starving for touch, and albeit food aswell.

wes pulled away, smiling with glee, atleast until the other man spoke.

"what's your name, fellow?" the man queries, "my name's wilson, the gentleman scientist!" 'wilson' holds out a hand, to which wes graciously accepts, and then realizes he has to reply to the man's question..wes takes his hand away, and uses a finger to point to his throat, before taking two index fingers and drawing out a X formation with them, shaking his head for emphasis.

the man looks confused, at first, before it flickers like a broken lightbulb over his head, and he seemingly understands from the look on his mug.

"oh, you can't speak? mute?" wilson shrugs, "fine by me, i guess. just stay close by so i know you're okay, and not somewhere getting lost when i turn back to you." he scolds a little, before reaching out a hand, "come on, let's go, before the night comes." wilson mutters, and looks to wes, who obviously budges, proceeding to follow along with the other man.

**

"can you write your name down in the snow?" wilson questions.

wes thinks about it, and uses his index finger to write down the following letters.

"w."

"e.."

"..s?"

wilson notices he stops, giving a weird glance and shrugging again, "huh. it's pronounced..wes?" he mumbles, almost to himself, until wes nods, giving a thumbs up for wilson to understand, "nice name." wilson shies out, flustered face turning to the most interesting snowflake, among the many other snowflakes.

they stay in that awkward silence, to which wes wishes he could break, until thankfully--wilson does it for him.

"should i get you, like, some sort of pen and paper? i have ink, feathers, papyrus.." wilson turns to him again, mumbling off the last ingredients, "i could make a notepad, so we could talk." he supplies, to which wes nods, giving a thumbs up to suggest a 'yes please'.

wilson skitters off to the wooden chests next to the sullen tent that stood, soaked with water from the neverending snowflakes that seemed to melt alot quicker than they should..possibilities arise, maybe autumn was finally here.

wes is snatched away from his own thoughts whilst wilson sits down next to him again, offering the make-do notepad.

"so, first question, you don't have to answer if you don't want to, it's just a bleak curiosity of mine.." wilson pauses, "how did you get there? in the invisible box? i mean, i know maxwell brought you here, but why'd he put you in a box? what did you do to make him so mad? all he's ever done when i envoked his childish wrath was send endless hound waves after me." wilson finishes, and to which, wes raises a brow at the last part.

wes takes the notepad, scribbles down a few words, and wilson takes the notepad back happily, until he's frowning.

'he hates mimes.'

"..what? why?" wilson asks, and hands it back to the other.

moment of silence, as wes scribbles down more information, until he hands it to wilson again.

'don't ask me, ask him.'

wilson raises a brow, copying wes' exact look from earlier, "well, i can't necessarily talk to him, atleast until i get to the throne." wilson gestures that sentence with a twist of his free wrist that wasn't holding the notepad, and speaking of the devil, he puts the notepad down.

they fall into silence again, atleast until wilson speaks up, "well, i'm gonna get to bed. are you..coming with?" wilson adds, unsure as he sits up from the log, before wes nods, getting up with him to follow along like a lost puppy.

wilson walks to the tent, checking behind him once to make sure wes was still following, and he's opening the rather-small-tent, and letting wes crawl inside, until.."so uh..how are we gonna do this?" wilson comments as he crawls in, sitting down next to wes, "i mean, should we pick a side? or do we, uhm..hah, cuddle?" wilson mumbles a little, which made the air so much more thick and uncomfortable, wes sparing him a sideglance that said 'what'?

"i mean--it would be much more efficient to cuddle, as to body warmth from each human body, but you don't have to!" wilson adds onto the awkward silence, tensing as his body inwardly cringed at his choice of words, who says that?!--

wes shrugs, cuddling the other man with shy grace as they laid down into the tent's small space, throwing the blanket above them.

well, wes answered that question already.

wilson watched wes fall asleep slowly, his breaths becoming ragged and tough, until finally his eyes closed slowly, his arms wrapped around wilson's neck and his face straddled into his collarbone.

this is the first time he's ever cuddled a man, wilson's brain supplies for him as wes breathes down into his shirt.

wilson also thinks his brain should shut the hell up!

**