recreational idiocy | wilbur soot

𝐭𝐞𝐧

𝐥𝐯𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲, 𝐚𝐰𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞

𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐚

"will, wake up, clay's calling,"

it's been a few weeks since i first started seeing wilbur, and it's been.. an adjustment. learning about who he is means becoming a part of his lifestyle myself, and it's a bit strange to say the least. not in a bad way at all, just in a different way.

i haven't agreed to join any of his streams yet, but i have met a few of his friends- dream, (clay, who's currently calling), tommy, who was apparently where will got his fake surname from, and  my personal favorite, tubbo (toby).

"answer it and tell him to piss off," he groans, yanking the sheets over his head. I pick up the ringing cell phone and answer, "hey, clay! what's up?" while glaring daggers at will through the covers.

"oh, hey via. is wilbur around? or did he just leave his phone," he asks, prompting will to let out a louder, more frustrated groan, and hold out his hand for the cell.

"why must you call me at this most unholy of hours, you git?" he asks, annoyed. i had clay on speaker, so i could hear his response- "wilbur, it's half past noon. were you actually still sleeping, man?"

i lean toward the phone and explain how he'd spent the entire night editing a video at my place, and how he fell asleep here. "oh. well then is it a terrible idea to ask if you might join tubbo, tommy, and i for a geoguessr competition?"

will starts to go on about how, no, he does not want to play geoguessr with dream, tommy, and tubbo, but i cover his mouth with my hand and shout "he'll be there in an hour!" before hitting the hang up button.

"whawouldyousaythah," he mumbles, mouth still covered. i remove my hand and sit up. "tubs is going to be there! you have to!" i say brightly, trying to get him to agree.

"that is not a good enough reason to get me out of bed." he says, dropping back to a lying position.

"... i bought food?" i try again. he lifts his head, asking, "what sort of food? say it isn't chips, or we can't be together anymore."

i laugh and lay down on his chest, hands folded under my chin, looking up at him. "it's chips. pescado y papitas. poisson et frites." i say solemnly.

"noooooo," he whispers dramatically, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. the way he does this simple little thing shouldn't make my stomach turn, but it does, and i get all smiley, catching his hand and lacing my fingers through the spaces between his.

"are we still splitsville, then?" i ask jokingly. he laughs and shakes his head, sitting up. I roll off of him in the most melodramatic way possible, landing on the soft white comforter, still holding his hand, which he uses to yank me to a standing position.

"all right then, pull my arm off, why don't you?" i say sarcastically as he leads us both to the kitchen.

he gasps loudly, pointing at the box of donuts i left on the counter this morning. "you liar," he accuses, "it isn't even chips!" i shrug, taking a glazed one for myself. "your fault for assuming that's all i ever eat for breakfast."

he takes a giant bite of his, closing his eyes as his jaw works overtime to break down the doughy mass. "If i could taste more of this, i'd probably think it was delicious."

"vouch." i say seriously, looking at the box in admiration. 

it's at that moment that i get a twitter notification. as i open the app, a look of disgust crosses wilbur's face. "what? don't like twitter?" i ask teasingly. "not in the slightest," he responds.

"well, why not?" i ask. "isn't it kind of in your job description?" he nods absently, considering. "sort of is, yeah. it's all right, but you try reading thirst comments every time you search your name for fun."

i gasp dramatically, a hand against my chest. "thirst comments? oh, now i'm intrigued," i say, already searching. "no, via-" he starts, but i'm already scrolling.

"oh, this one is nice! wilbur soot is my comfort streamer... he helps my headaches... but i also just kind of want him to- oh." i say, blushing as i read the tweet in my head. 

he laughs scoffingly, wiping his hands on a napkin and tossing it in the bin. "yeah, so that's why i don't particularly enjoy twitter. but otherwise, it's cool," he shrugs,

"wow, wil, half the continent probably wants to get into your trousers," i laugh, still scrolling. he grabs my phone and tosses it to the couch, then looks at me. "sucks to be them, then." he says, bringing a hand up to my face, thumb stroking my jawline. 

i smile, leaning up to give him a quick peck on the lips, but he holds the kiss much longer than that. i gently push him away, keeping a hand on his chest, holding onto his shirt to keep him close to me. "i really like you, wil." i say softly, once i catch my breath.

"i really like you too, v. and if i ever ever do anything you don't want, or if i hurt you, just know it isn't my intention at all, and tell me something, okay?"

i nod, grabbing his hand and rocking back and forth on my heels, playing with his fingers. he kisses the top of my head just as his cell rings again, causing him to roll his eyes before grabbing it.

he doesn't check who it is, just answers with a bland "hello."  

"hey, wil!" gushes a female voice on the other end, making me look up and mouth "who's that?" to wil. he shakes his head, holding up a finger in a gesture for me to hold on, then answers, "hi, niki! what d'you need?" 

after listening to a lot of murmured agreement, laughing, and unnecessary nodding, i get bored and slightly uncomfortable and grab my headphones, walking outside toward the roof. 

i head for the old lawn chair i keep under the awning and bring it out into the sun, dragging it to the middle of the roof and placing my headphones in my ears, putting on a salvia palth mix and closing my eyes, trying not to think.

my head is completely void of any thoughts, salvia's music flooding my ears, when a hand on my shoulder jerks me back into complete consciousness. my eyes pop open, fight or flight triggered, when i realise it's just wil. 

i take out one of my headphones and sit up properly, legs crossed, heart still beating triple time from the scare he gave me. "hi," i say, for lack of anything better- all my conversational skills fly out of my mind the second i see his face.

"i couldn't find you for ages- why'd you leave?" he asks, sitting on the floor next to my chair. "well, you were busy, and i got bored, so.. who was that, by the way?" i ask, hoping i sound nonchalant.

"oh, that was just my friend, niki," he says dismissively. his blasé tone provides me with some comfort. i trust wil, and if he says she's a friend, then she is. no use getting jealous over nothing after only a few weeks, right?

"oh." i respond, less enthusiastic than i mean to. he gets to his feet, pulling me up with him. "don't be upset; i've known her for ages."

"i'm sorry, it's stupid i know but i just.. get jealous easily." i concede, stepping away slightly. "don't do that, via, come here." he says, pulling me closer. "i want to kiss you until you forget every negative thought in your pretty little head."

and my god does he. 

"now come on, we've got a stream to prepare for," he says after we pull apart, picking me up and slinging me over his shoulder with nearly no effort at all.

"we?" i ask, thinking either i misheard or he misspoke. 

"yes, we." he says definitively.  "you're going to meet my fans."