Roomate for Sale!

The Baking Disaster

Wilbur is sleeping for once. It's nice. No nightmares, no memories, no annoying children waking him up at three fucking AM in the morning for a running joke. Just peace.

Then someone whispers in his ear.

"Wilbur."

No. No he's not gonna wake up. He's not. He won't wake up for whoever is whispering to him. His eyes are firmly shut and he doesn't open them a peak, even when his consciousness slowly wakes up when he's jostled by a hand rubbing his shoulder.

"Wilbur, wake up." The voice whispers again, this time louder, Wilbur only mutters incoherently and turns to his side, ignoring the indignant squawk of the person trying to poke his cheek. Wilbur's nose twitches with a weird smell, and he almost lets out a sneeze. Good thing he didn't though- he really wanted to get back into REM sleep instead of this light sleep where he's pretty sure he's hallucinating a person tapping his back consistently. May it's a rat.

"Wil-bah Soot! We need help! Tubbo fucked up!" The voice says louder.

Wilbur coughs, a weird phlegm stuck in his throat. He sneezes, coughing when he inhales a rancid smell.

This isn't a dream, and Wilbur is fully awake. Just keeping his eyes closed. Yup. If the person beside him believes he's asleep (it's most likely Tommy, but what if it isn't??), then they'll leave him alone. Yup. There's no waking up Wilbur. Ever.

"Wilbur! We have a problem! A massive, huge fucking problem! Don't you fucking try to pretend to be asleep!"

Wilbur groans.

"Tubbo's laptop is on fire and we need help! WILBUR!"

Wilbur jolts awake, opening his eyes in a flash and coming face to face with a wide-eyed Tommy, an awkward grin on his face which practically screamed trouble. Wilbur blinks for a long moment, processing the statement and the sudden smell of smoke.

"HE FUCKING WHAT?!"

"THATS WHAT IM SAYING!" Tommy screeches, hauling Wilbur's half-asleep disoriented ass out of bed, "We need to hurry before the fire alarm goes off! Oh fuck, oh shit, shit dick and balls-"

"Shut up." Wilbur says stagnantly, already grabbing the fire extinguisher locked in their kitchen cabinet. "Bring me to them."

Tommy nodal and they leave their dorm clad in their pajamas and sleep-rustled hair, the socks on their feet softening their steps as they quickly go to their neighbors' room. The smell of smoke gets stronger when Tommy practically busts down the door, holding the fire extinguisher he snatched from Wilbur in his hands like a trophy.

"I've got it!"

Tubbo and Ranboo are in their living room, right by the entrance to their dorm. The shorter of the two is clinging to the taller, who looks as if he's on the verge of a panic attack. An empty fire extinguisher lies next to a small fire in the room, the origin of the smoke.

They're lucky the fire alarm hasn't gone off. Tubbo and Ranboo must've turned off the ones in their room.

"Oh thank fuck." Tubbo breathes, and Ranboo forcibly drags him away from the fire, eyes paranoid and breaths panicked. Tommy tries and fails to spray the fire, so Wilbur takes it from him, ignoring the younger's complaints, and thoroughly douses the flame in the white foam until there isn't a speck of orange flickering left.

The room is left in a sheen of smoke, somehow not yet reaching the fire alarms in any of the other rooms yet. Wilbur and Tommy have their eyes pinned to the light pile of white foam, one reflecting relief and the other in tired bewilderment, and Ranboo pulls Tubbo's wrist back when the smaller one lunges for the white foam with hungry eyes.