Stolen Chances

Chapter Seven

Having a total of twenty-five thousand in his backpack was honestly nerve-wracking. He didn't have anywhere safe to put it, and he couldn't just dump it into their piggy bank the three shared for rent. So he found himself out on the couch late at night budgeting. He was able to pay for their next three months of rent in advance, earning an impressed look for their landlord as they were usually the latest tenants. Then he was able to stock up on groceries, filling the cupboards and fridge with actual proper food, not on the edge of spoiling. They even had milk! A whole gallon too!

But even then, he still had a mega fuck ton of cash and nothing to do with it. If he could start fixing up their apartment, he would, but that would drive suspicion from his roommates. Not to say the full cabinets haven't done so already.

"Tommy?" Tubbo asked one morning while he was getting ready for work. It has been an entire week since he last saw Wilbur, and he was a bit on edge, honestly. Was something happening to keep the man busy? Would Tommy get dragged into gang crime? Did his partner finally decide Tommy wasn't worth the trouble? Was he waiting outside the apartment door, ready to kill all three of them?

Tommy swallowed thickly before turning to Tubbo, "Ayup?"

"Did you buy groceries?" The teen pointed behind himself at the kitchen, the cupboards were closed, but Tommy knew they were fully stocked.

"Oh, uh yeah. Got a raise yesterday and thought it would be nice to eat something other than dry cereal for dinner one night." Tommy gave him a weak grin.

Tubbo grimaced before crossing his arms, "Don't you think we should be saving up for rent? Especially since Ranboo lost his job?"

Tommy picked at a loose thread on his hoodie sleeve; it was getting colder out; maybe he could buy the boys new jackets. "Yeah, no, it's all good, big man, it didn't cut in too much."

Tubbo gave him a confused frown, "Tommy, that's the most stocked our fridge has been since- well, ever."

Tommy shrugged, "Extra hours are doing great, big man." He grabbed his backpack off of the couch and began making his way to the door, "I've got work. I'll see you later, Tubs."

"Oh, okay then."

The door clicked shut behind him, and Tommy let out a deep sigh. Tubbo has been so stressed about rent lately, terrified they won't make it and get kicked out. He just wanted the brunette to smile again. Maybe he could buy him a new laptop? That definitely wouldn't fit in their budget, at least the budget Tubbo made for them.

Reflecting on it all, Tommy felt confused more than ever. It had been almost a week since Wilbur last contacted him. While Tommy hoped the brunette would leave him alone, a small selfish part of him liked the money and risk, the adrenaline and warmth that filled his chest at doing a job well done. By having a small piece of himself, he didn't have to share it with his roommates.

His shift at the diner that day was the same as it always was: boring and tiring. Tommy's left hand was bright red from where he'd burnt himself while trying to pour some coffee earlier. He felt the slow drag to his limbs from a lack of sleep. But, of course, any attempt to rest his eyes was interrupted by that stupid bell chime above the door. Grabbing his tiny flip notebook and the pen tucked behind his ear, he swallowed a sigh as he turned to the table, "What can I get for you to- oh fuck me." Tommy let out a groan rolling his eyes to the ceiling as he was greeted by Wilbur's grin and Techno's amused scowl. "What do you fuck heads want?"

Wilbur glanced over the menu briefly, "I'll have a waffle and black coffee, Technoblade?" The man crossed his arms and shrugged before pointing to an item on the menu, earning a sigh from Wilbur, "You're so boring. He'll have a club sandwich."