Chapter Text
It was supposed to be a normal day, wake up, complain about school and steal Wilbur's pancakes. Get forced to go to school, ignore every lecture about the war between two countries Tommy’s never even heard of, hang out with Tubbo and go home to procrastinate on homework.
Sure Tommy had been feeling weird lately, but maybe he’s just sick, it was cold season anyways and Phil was buying more tissues and grabbing more cough drops then Tommy has even seen a man consume.
What is he talking about, people with colds don’t feel like a horrible enactment of spiderman. Spiderman’s spidey sense was cool, sure he had never really paid attention during movie night when Ranboo brought it up but he knew a few things. This did not feel cool, there was a strange energy buzzing under his skin, just at the base of his neck and it did not want to go away.
Maybe anxiety about his mid terms? No, he feels fine about them. Was it Ranboo??? He was new, and Tommy was ok with change but with all the paperwork, more therapy appointments, all the calls. And especially Phil being busy all the time.
He didn't want to think about it, he liked Ranboo don’t get him wrong, but there was so much going on in the house and technically- Ranboo was kind of the reason.
For the past couple of weeks he had been stimming like crazy, his leg bouncing all over the place even when he felt relaxed. Not to mention the buzzing under his skin, whenever he thought about it it almost got worse, as if acknowledging it at all would trigger the thing to act up.
The stim toy that he had gotten years ago looking worse than ever. The balls had started to rust and the soft thumb pad had been worn down after years of use. Phil had offered to buy him a new one, but it was the first one that Techno had given him, it held sentimental value to him.
Tommy stares at his alarm clock, the red blinking numbers and blearing cry taunting him. Despite already waking up late, Tommy simply groans and turns over, carrying the sheets with him to block out the noise. It took Wilbur getting up and banging on his door to get Tommy up
“Tommy! It’s a Tuesday, not the weekend! Now get up before Phil eats all the hash browns!” Wilbur chuckles and heads down the steps.
Damn it, Wilbur knew Tommy too well, he was totally using hashbrowns as a lure for Tommy. Despite the fact that Tommy can very well smell bacon, and not hash browns he gets up. Lugging his body along to get ready.
By now the time reads 6:42, shit, he needed to get up 40 minutes ago! Tommy rushes to the bathroom, giving his face a once over with water and brushing his teeth in record time. He slaps on deodorant cause he’s not that much of an idiot and runs back to his room to change.
He tosses the clothes he laid out last night, saving time in the morning and no longer having to go through his whole wardrobe to find his shirts. Oi! Don’t judge him, he had a monday shirt, a tuesday one and so on and so forth. Saving his favorite clothes for Friday as a treat for himself.
Tommy finishes getting ready and grabs his backpack, heading down the steps and sliding into his seat next to an already eating Wilbur. And of course bacon and eggs were on the table, with waffles for Phil. The man refused to eat eggs and generally didn’t eat animal products in general.
“You alright mate?” Phil spoke up, concern lacing his voice.
“I’m fine, just…tired from school.” Tommy mumbles, leg bouncing as he fills up on bacon and fluffy eggs.
“Your classes and everything's alright? If it's English then just ask techno, if it's math I don't know if anyone can help you there though.” Wilbur pitches in, speaking with his mouth full of food.
“It’s not my classes, it’s just-” Tommy cuts himself off, trying to formulate the words to express how in the world he’s feeling that his body is betraying him, how the house is starting to feel like a prison rather than a haven from the outside. How he was drowning with the new kid and how he messed up. It hadn’t even been a week since Ranboo had got here and he already managed to make a larger gap between the two.
Wilbur waits, knowing that Tommy had some trouble with opening up in general.
After a moment of no words Tommy just sighs, shoving more bacon into his mouth and looking back up at Wilbur. He faintly hears Phil from behind him telling him to take his time, but the clock on the stove tells him otherwise. They were going to be late.
“It’s not a big deal, I'll talk to puffy about it on thursday, hurry up Wil, we’re gonna be late.
Wilbur glances at the clock before copying Tommy, shoveling the food into his mouth before grabbing his keys and his bag, both of them making their way out the door.
As they drive out of the neighborhood Tommy rests his head against the window, the cool glass calming the storm building inside him. The ride is quiet, Wil putting on a random radio station as background noise.
After a few minutes the car comes to a full stop, the gears being shifted to park and Wilbur unbuckles his seat belt.
Meanwhile Tommy is still looking out the window, basically burning down the trees in front of him with his glare.
“Tommy? Did you hear me?”
The question brings him back to the real world. “Sorry what?”
“Just have a good day, come on we’re already late.”
The two make their way out of the car, heading towards the door and Wil signs them in, Tommy half heartily dragging his feet behind him.
“Can’t I just skip class?” He whined, glaring at the building in front of him, “You do it all the time!”
“Do as I say, not, do as I do. Now come on child.”
“I am not a child.” Tommy retorts back, not bothering to hold the door for Wilbur
“Aww! Look, now the little baby is pouting!”
Just as Tommy is about to insult Wilbur right back the front lady clears her throat, clearly judging the two.
“Names please.” She says in her all too passive aggressive voice.
At least she can say please, if she could she would totally be complaining and interrogating them on why they were late.
“Wilbur soot, and Tommy Innit.”
She continues to glare at them as she writes both of them passes to class.
The two walk down the halls, now empty after only a few minutes of class. The Halls were basically dead, if not for the distant sound of students inside rooms then you would have thought it was the weekend.
As they walk Tommy sniffles a few times, reaching up to wipe at his nose.
“You need a tissue?” Wilbur asks, already reaching into his bag to pull out a small packet.
“Hm? Why would I?” He glances back up at Wil. The itch was desperately telling him to swipe at his face.
“Oh, nothing. You were just sniffling, that's all.”
A silence falls over them, Tommy can’t tell if it's awkward or not, but he feels fine now so it has to be fine…right?
Wilbur glances at Tom again, the kid sniffling and swiping at his face.
“Are you sure you’re ok?” He asks
“I'm alright Wilbur, have a good day.”
He’s about to ask again before Tommy makes a sharp left into a different hall, Well this is great… Whatever, he can Text tommy later.
Tommy at this point is spacing out, counting the locker numbers on the little plaques before Wilbur speaks up, he replies quickly, avoiding the question and almost hitting his shoulder on the corner wall.
He was fine, seriously. Wilbur just needed to learn how to listen. It’s fine, besides. He needed to focus on getting to class.
Luckily he had Mr. Sam for the first hour. The man was incredibly nice and made his lessons interesting enough for Tommy to be passing, a rather rare sight. Not that Tommy wasn’t passing his classes (No one needed to know), but rather that he was actually interested in the material. Mr. Sam had made some of his lesson plans into songs or phrases, no matter how cringy they were. They helped Tom remember the periodic table and more. Though he would never admit that to anyone, not even to Tubbo.
By the time he’s walking into class it was already 8:13, much, much later then when class had started. He preys to god that the door is unlocked, and that he can just slip inside. But of course, god is a big meany and no friend of man kind, so the door is locked.
Tommy begrudgingly knocks on the door, some random girl that he didn’t care enough for to learn her name opens the door. The door giving a much too loud creak in the classroom, and the whole class looks at him, the lights low and the smart board turned on to a video.
Tommy quickly ducks his head and heads inside, he can basically feel everyone's eyes on him, glaring at the tall figure that’s entering the classroom. Alright maybe he gets how Ranboo feels now, Ran was always seemingly trying to make themselves smaller, hunching down and doing the T-Rex arms™. No, that was just a neurodivergent thing.
Wait? Was he even neurodivergent? He’d have to ask. Or was that too personal of a question?
He starts to go down the list of what he already knows about Ranboo while giving the tardy slip to Mr. Sam.
Did memory issues count as neurodivergency? He had no clue.
He gets snapped out of his running thoughts by Tubbo asking him a question.
“Sorry what?” Tommy whispers, Mr. Sam talking about…something
“I said, did you do your homework yet?” Tubbo repeats
“I think so? Maybe?”
“Wanna copy?”
Tommy’s face brightens as Tubbo pulls out a half crumpled piece of paper. Oh god, Tommy forgot how Tubbo’s hand writing looked. Though his wasn’t much better.
“Your hand writting looks like a founding fathers!” He whisper yells to the brunett.
“Ew! Americans!”
They both giggle at that and Mr. Sam gives them a look that both shuts them up, not without another glare though.
“Eh technically they were brits though-”
“No, they were traitors, Tommy. I tell you they lied and fled to make a failing ‘nation’.”
“Didn’t they eat eachother-”
Tom gets cut off by the girl in front of them whipping around and glaring at them, a silent yet fatal request to shut up. Right, something about a quiz on Thursday? He’d have to ask after class.
The rest of the class is spent spacing out and exchanging giggles with tubbo. By the time the class is almost done the itch is back, the stupid thing like a sneeze that Tommy desperately did not want to let out. Mr. Sam was in the middle of a sentence!
“Pog.”
Tubbo gives him a weird look, the word muttered softly under Tommy's breath, but the itch was still there!
“Sorry what?” Tubbo asks.
“Pog…” Comes out again, but this time a bit louder, some students looking his way and Mr. Sam giving him a glance.
“What’s pog?”
“Pog.” Tommy repeats, the itch finally gone, before it slams into him at full force, his hand flapping at his side.
Jesus, this was annoying.
After a few minutes of instructions the lights go off, something he loved about this class. Everyone starts to move into different tables and tubbo drags him along to one of the corners, a pair of bean bags that they had claimed sitting under fairy lights.
He follows over with Tubbo, but not before Mr. Sam stops him.
“You need a break Tommy?”
“Uh-” Well, the stupid itch was gone, but he wouldn’t mind a break, but Tubbo was waiting…It’s fine, he would understand. “Sure, Ill be back.”
Mr. Sam nods before moving onto another table to help, meanwhile Tommy gives Tubbo a mock salute and walks out of the classroom, planning to take a lap, drink some water, and maybe go bother Wilbur in the music department.
The community college that Wil was attending was rather small, but had all the generals that he needed, and Tommy was happy that Wil was staying, at least for his first year in college. On the other hand, Techno had moved all the way to California for his English major. According to him, they had an amazing English course and were one of the top schools there.
Wilbur was student teaching for music, Tommy knew that Wil was anxious about school and grades, and honestly is really happy that Wil’s found something that interests him, not to mention he was in the same building as Tommy.
“WILBUR!” He shouts into the music room, a big grin on his face. The blond man sitting near the back with a guitar in hand, showing some youn
ger kid how to play a note, chord, whatever.
“Go back to class, gremlin!”
“Never!” He laughs, bolting down the hall as Wil starts to get up and pretends to chase him.