Work Text:
If anyone had told Wilbur that this was how he would be spending his break times for the next few months, he would have quit his job on the spot. But no. Instead, he didn’t know what he was getting into.
At first it was just little things. Taking his normal seat at his table in the food court, slipping in front of him in line at the Auntie Anne’s when Wilbur wasn’t paying attention, to straight up taking some of his pretzel bites.
It was infuriating, and Wilbur wished that he could have gotten Schlatt to just butt out of his life before now, but it was too late. They were already each other’s nemesis, bound together in some twisted, hateful dance. They would talk sometimes, argue others, before going back to their jobs in their respective stores in the mall. A few times, they even met up afterwards just to yell at each other outside. On one rather memorable occasion, they had even started throwing punches. They stopped pretty soon after they both threw a few, realizing that it would get them nowhere.
It was all Schlatt’s fault. He thought he was such hot shit, well, he wasn’t. He was a fucking twink, that’s what he was. Spencer’s is not cooler than Guitar Center, thankyouverymuch Schlatt. Just because you work where the cool kids shop doesn’t make you a part of their clique. Besides, the Guitar Center actually has worthwhile things for actual hobbies, not just t-shirts and the sex toy exhibit in the back. Everyone knows, Schlatt. It isn’t a secret.
The worst part is, though, is that with as infuriating as Schlatt is, Wilbur cannot deny that he was frustratingly cute. He would be exactly Wilbur’s type if he would shut the fuck up. But when the restless nights came, and Wilbur was resigned to looking around his room until he was tired, he would look over at his flag, his big, bright, bi pride flag, and he would think of Schlatt. And then he would glare at it, because how dare it? They weren’t even friends! They were basically enemies, and Schlatt was straight, for Pete's sake.
Wilbur did enjoy one thing about Schlatt’s company, though, which was maybe why he kept coming back to the table and splitting the cost of pretzels with Schlatt. He enjoyed that it was the one constant in his life. At work, everything was different every day. Different faces, different problems, and honestly, they should just promote him to manager at this point, because he does their job for them and still doesn’t get paid enough for this crap.
But Schlatt was the one constant. They sat at the same table and shared the same snack every day, except weekends. Weekends, Wilbur didn’t work. He was fairly sure that Schlatt didn’t, either.
He did notice that the cashier at Auntie Anne’s, Eret, always sort of watched their interactions. Then they would go and talk to the manager of the Gamestop, where Tommy worked. Wilbur asked Tommy about it one day, and he mentioned that Eret and George love to gossip. He and Schlatt and their rivalry has been very interesting to them.
Well at least it wasn’t some secret plot to kidnap them. Wilbur didn’t think he could stand it if he had to be stuck with Schlatt in any given area for that long.
Ahh, November. Fall is here, and there was a chill in the air, and Wilbur was heading to the food court to (not) enjoy his break with Schlatt. It was a Wednesday, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, and traffic was picking up around the mall. It would be closed tomorrow, but open again Friday. Wilbur wasn’t exactly looking forward to Friday. It was Black Friday, one of their most busy days. Just thinking about it made his stomach turn.
When Wilbur got to the table, Schlatt wasn’t there. He went ahead and got the pretzels, and sat down, waiting. He slowly picked at them until he realized they were all gone, and his break was nearly over. He walked over to Eret.
“Hey, have you seen Schlatt?”
“No, I haven’t. Isn’t he normally at the table?”
“Yeah. Huh. Oh well.” Wilbur waved goodbye, and went back to work. He tried not to think about it too hard. It wasn’t any of his business why Schlatt wasn’t there today. It certainly didn’t bother him. He went the entire day without being bothered by it at all.
When the day was over, Wilbur walked out to his car. Schlatt’s car was parked in its normal spot, right next to his, which only bothered Wilbur more. Wait. No it didn’t! It did not bother him in the slightest.
The next day was Thanksgiving, which didn’t really mean anything to him as a British man, but there was food there, so hey.
The day after that was Black Friday, and when Wilbur got there, early early in the morning, Schlatt’s car was already there. Wilbur glared at it. Was Schlatt avoiding him?
Now was not the time to think about it. Today was going to be busy at the mall, he had better get a move on. He passed the stores that his siblings and Phil work at, wincing at how busy they were going to be. Techno and Phil worked at one of the nerd stores, For Your Entertainment, and Tommy worked under George at the Gamestop. That was probably how George always knew what was up, so he could talk with Eret.
Wilbur passed by Spencer’s and they were already swamped. Boxes littered the floor as the employees did some last minute shelf-stocking, and there were cardboard bits everywhere. Wilbur kept walking. They were busy, and the mall was opening very soon. Speaking of, he had to get to his store.
He walked in, opening up the store and organizing some things, before waiting around a bit. Finally the first few customers came, and it did not take very long to help them between himself and the other employees there.
There was a fairly steady flow of people in and out all day, not too many, not too few. Eventually, Wilbur went on break. He scanned the crowd for Schlatt, but he wasn’t there again. He bought some pretzels as an excuse to ask Eret if they’d seen Schlatt at all. They hadn’t. Wilbur wasn’t pouting by the time he’d sat down and finished his pretzel bites. Why was Schlatt ignoring him?
Schlatt wasn’t at the table on Monday, either. Wilbur was actually worried now, had he gone too far in one of his jokes last time they saw each other? Had something happened to him?
Then Tuesday rolled around, and Wilbur was heading to go on his break. As per usual, he scanned for Schlatt at the table, not really expecting to see him there. But to his surprise, Schlatt was sitting there at the table, and he already had pretzels. Wilbur walked over and sat down at the table. Schlatt pushed a lemonade towards him.
“I got you some lemonade,” he said, like nothing had happened. He looked… tired. There was a fading bruise under his right eye, and eye bags that almost looked designer. Still, the man smiled at him, nudging a lemonade towards him like they were old pals. They weren’t even friends!
“Where were you last week? Were you ignoring me? Did I say something?”
“Careful Wilbur, I might actually think you care if you keep that up.”
“Well if you disappear randomly, my curiosity is bound to kick in.”
“Aww, you care.”
“I don’t. I don’t give two shits about you.”
“That implies that you could give one,” he smirked. Wilbur rolled his eyes. Schlatt had been tense so far, avoiding the problem. Wilbur took a sip of his lemonade, and Schlatt relaxed. Oh, so it was a peace offering, in case Wilbur was angry. It made him want to smile and frown at the same time.
He wanted to smile because Schlatt knew him like this so well. He could be this argumentative with another person and they would fire back just as quick. They bounced off each other so well, and Schlatt knew just what could get him to smile.
He wanted to frown because that meant that Schlatt actually thought he would be angry with him over not showing up for a few days. It meant that Schlatt actually thought that Wilbur wouldn’t want to sit and talk to him anymore.
“So. Why weren’t you here? You didn’t answer my question,” Wilbur said. Schlatt sighed and popped a pretzel bite in his mouth.
“Why? You don’t care, man, why should it matter?”
“Alright, well, pretend for a second that I do.”
“Aww, were you worried about me? I bet you looked for me every day, asked Eret if they’d seen me every day. Didn’t you?” Schlatt popped another pretzel bite in his mouth and chewed it while grinning at him, the grin slowly fading the longer that Wilbur didn’t answer. “Holy shit, did you? Why?” He sounded shocked, now.
“What do you mean ‘why’? You’re the only person I talk to!”
“I dunno, I just… never had someone care enough to actually wonder where I was when I wasn’t there.”
“That’s kinda sad, I’m not gonna lie, dude.”
“Yeah, I know.” Schlatt’s voice sounded hollow. “I just had a really shitty week. Between Black Friday week and weekend, I just haven’t been able to get any time. I didn’t have time to go on break last week, one of our guys called out sick, and you know how busy it can get around Black Friday.”
“Oh, so you guys have been really busy.”
“Yeah. Friday was just awful, and Saturday wasn’t any better. Sunday was okay, but I wasn’t there in the morning.”
“You worked this weekend?”
“Yeah, one of our guys is out sick, I just said.”
“So what about yesterday? Were you busy then?”
“Right, yesterday. No, not exceptionally, but I was so mentally exhausted I forgot what time was until the lady on the loudspeaker said the mall was closing,” he chuckled, giving Wilbur a tired smile.
“Get some sleep then, man!”
“I would, but it’s always so loud at my house.”
“What do you mean?” Schlatt’s face went pale.
“No reason. My, uhhhh… my mom, watches a lot of tv? And it’s loud.” Schlatt gave Wilbur a very awkward smile. It was a blatant lie.
“You fucking liar.”
“You ask a lot of questions for someone who only gives one shit about me. Bugger off about it.”
“Fine. whatever. Is it like, your family bickers a lot? Mine does. You should see it when Tommy gets into it with someone, it’s a madhouse.”
“Tommy? Like the kid at the Gamestop? The kid George always complains about?”
“Yeah. He’s my little brother.”
“I am truly sorry.”
“It’s okay, he’s adopted.” Schlatt let out a loud bark of laughter. It was good to see him laughing again.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“What do you mean?”
“You realize you said that out loud, right?”
“Did I? Whoops.”
“So what does that mean? I laugh plenty. Too much, some would argue.”
“It means nothing. I haven’t seen you in a while, that’s all.”
“Hmm. whatever.” They finished their break, and parted ways. The rest of the day went smoothly, and the lady on the loudspeaker announced the end of the day. Wilbur cleaned up the shop, and went out into the parking lot. Schlatt was already in his car, and upon getting closer, he was banging his head on the steering wheel. Wilbur went over and tapped on the window. Schlatt jumped, glaring. His gaze softened when he saw who it was. The american rolled down the window.
“If you’re about to tell me that’s bad for the steering wheel, I don’t wanna fucking hear it,” Schlatt was quick to say, taking away Wilbur’s quip.
“I wasn’t, actually.” He totally was. “Are you okay? Like, really.”
“Yeah, I’m fine, alright?” he snaps. Wilbur purses his lips.
“You don’t look fine.”
“Well I am.”
“Schlatt.”
“Jesus! Fine! Will it get you off my case?”
“Quite possibly.” Schlatt got out of his car so that Wilbur didn’t have to crouch.
“Why the fuck do you care again?”
“I suppose I think of you as a friend, dickhead. Is that so bad?” Wilbur grumbles. Schlatt goes a little red in the face, but sighs and tells him.
“I just had a really shitty week, okay? It’s seriously nothing big. We’ve been busy as fuck at Spencer’s, I haven’t been able to get away.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. Wilbur tilted his head. Schlatt has had shitty weeks before, and he usually just tells Wilbur about it. Something told Wilbur Schlatt was hiding a bigger problem.
“Is that all?”
“... my parents have been giving me a hard time lately.”
“What about?”
“Just... stuff. It doesn’t matter.” Wilbur glared at him. Schlatt’s resolve crumbled. “God, fine! Just… please don't judge me or anything. I kinda like someone, and my parents really dont like it, because they’re super duper homophobic and I’m gay, and I dont know what to do, and-” the American was word vomiting, words coming out forced as he ran out of air in his lungs.
“Schlatt. Slow down. Breathe.” Wilbur put up his hand in a pause motion. Schlatt took a deep shaky breath, and Wilbur processed everything that Schlatt had just said. “You’re gay?” Wilbur asked, that being the first thing to register. Schlatt looked crushed.
“Fuck. I swear that isn't how I meant to come out. I understand if you’re uncomfortable now…”
“Oh, no, not at all! That would be the most hypocritical thing ever. You’re fine. It’s okay. It doesn’t matter who you like, as long as you’re happy,” Wilbur said, smiling. Why was he almost disappointed that Schlatt liked someone? It wasn’t like Wilbur liked him, so why did he pick that to care about?
Schlatt looked so relieved. Wilbur quirked an eyebrow. The american chuckled drily at the unspoken question. “Sorry. Most people who find out are a little bit less than accepting about it.”
“Do your coworkers know? I’m fairly certain that most of them are LGBT+, as well.”
“Most people who care. Most people whose opinions I actually care about.”
“Aww, you care about my opinion?” He asked, teasingly.
“... yes. So much,” Schlatt’s voice broke a little bit. Wilbur looked at him, the teasing tone vanishing. His nose was a little bit red, and he wouldn’t meet Wilbur’s eyes. Wilbur softened, and he grabbed Schlatt’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Schlatt froze, his arms hanging down by his sides.
“What is this?”
“It’s called a hug, Schlatt.”
“I fucking know that, asshole. I meant why are you doing it.”
“You look like you needed it.”
“Thanks, I guess.” The shorter pulled away. Wilbur looked at him for a good minute as he began getting back in his car.
“Hey, Schlatt, would you like to come over for dinner? My family is rather keen to meet you,” Wilbur found himself saying before he could stop himself. Schlatt thought for a moment before smiling slightly.
“Can’t disappoint them, then, can I?”
“I mean, you could, but…”
“I suppose I could clear my evening for you,” he said, a smile creeping into his face. Wilbur smiled back, and they each got into their cars. Wilbur started driving, and Schlatt followed him. They got to Wilbur’s house, and Schlatt parked on the side of the street as Wilbur took his normal parking spot. They walked through the front door, and almost immediately their ears were bombarded with the sound of Tommy yelling at something he didn’t agree with as Techno cackled. Phil groaned, and shouted at them to be quiet or take it outside. Both of them shut up for a second, before the back door was heard opening, and shutting. And then you could still hear them.
“Phil, what are they on about this time?” Wilbur asked. Phil didn’t look up from whatever he was cooking, just answering offhandedly.
“Tommy thinks that Minecraft is more than just starting fights and planting potatoes, he thinks the music is an important factor. Techno isn’t even arguing back, he’s just laughing. Tubbo thinks it’s about the community in-game, but he left the room just a moment ago,” Phil explains.
“Who’s this?” Tubbo appears behind Schlatt. The American jumps, whipping around. Tubbo waves, and Phil looks up.
“This is Schlatt.”
“Oh! Hello! Wilbur has mentioned you once or twice, it’s nice to meet you.” Phil walked over and stuck a hand out for a formal greeting. Schlatt shook it, nodding once in a ‘you as well’ motion.
“You’re the manager of the For Your Entertainment, right?” Schlatt asked.
“Yup, sure am. Techno, my eldest, works there as well. He and Tommy are outside right now.”
“And Tommy works at Gamestop.” Schlatt turned to Tubbo. “And how do you mix into this?”
“Oh, I’m Tommy’s friend, they found me in a box,” Tubbo said, his standard reply for people who don’t know any better. He liked seeing the awkward ‘I do not know how to reply to that’ faces. Schlatt didn’t respond that way, much to everyone’s surprise.
“Oh yeah? Wilbur found me in some random place he was a regular at, I stole his seat and never gave it back.”
“Pog.”
“Yup. So you work at Gamestop too? Is that how you know Tommy?”
“No, I know him from school. I don’t work at Gamestop, I’m just always there,” he chuckled, scratching the back of his head. Schlatt nodded, before falling silent beside Wilbur. Techno and Tommy came back in, their little quarrel settled. Techno gave a small wave to Schlatt, which was returned. There was no more formal interaction between them. Wilbur expected this. Techno was the type to not say anything until he knows a little bit about the person, or unless they started a conversation with him. Speak not unless spoken to, was what he went by with strangers.
They all sat down for dinner, and Wilbur could tell that Schlatt was very out of his element every time there was a pause in the flow of conversation. They ate, Schlatt shared his praise for the meal once everyone was done, and then proceeded to follow Wilbur everywhere like a lost puppy. The Brit led them both to his room, and he sat down. Schlatt stood awkwardly in the middle of the room until Wilbur patted the spot on the bed next to him.
“Someone looks awkward,” Wilbur chuckled.
“Cut me some slack. I don’t meet people often,” he grumbled, sitting beside him. He looked around the room, eyes landing on a bi flag over the bed. “Now I get why you said it’d be hypocritical to judge me for being gay,” he chuckled.
They talked for a bit, then played some video games until around midnight, when Schlatt’s phone rang. The american ducked out into the bathroom to answer the call. When he came back out a few minutes later, his face had fallen.
“My mom says I have to come home. It was nice meeting your family,” he said dully. Wilbur nodded, and walked him out to his car. “Thanks for inviting me, Wilbur.”
“Of course! It was lovely having you. You should come by again sometime.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.”
“It's okay. Consider it a formal invitation.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Sure enough, Schlatt ended up coming over more often than not, for a few weeks. Wilbur and Schlatt had started on the story mode of a really long game, and, well, he couldn’t just not finish it, right? He stayed over so much that he was basically staying the entire weekend, if he could. They would play games for a few hours, then go on a movie marathon, and maybe go for a walk or something.
Sometimes Wilbur would wonder why he chose to stay here instead of his own house, but he wasn’t complaining. He and Schlatt had officially become friends, instead of each other’s nemesis. They still hung out on their breaks at work, still had pretzels, but now they didn’t have to pretend they hated each other.
And then one day, Schlatt just… stopped. Stopped coming over, stopped sitting with him on break, stopped messaging him, just… stopped. He even started parking in a different spot in the parking lot.
This went on for a week before Wilbur started getting angry. Then it continued for another week before Wilbur was finally able to find Schlatt on one of his breaks, sitting at their table. He sat down across from him rather angrily. He was angry. Very much so. He had every right to be!
“What the fuck,” Wilbur hissed.
“Hey, Wilbur,” Schlatt said, tiredly.
“Why have you been avoiding me?”
“That’s my bad, I’m sorry.” he offered Wilbur a small smile, which Wilbur did not return.
“Stop fucking joking, Schlatt. I’m serious. What the fuck is wrong with you? You think you can just lead me on, pretend that we’re friends for a few weeks, then just cut off all contact a few weeks later? No, sir!” He was standing now, leaning over the table, into Schlatt’s space.
“I’m sorry, I just-”
“No, fuck off! I don’t want to hear it! I don’t care! You disappear for two fucking weeks , then you come back and sit at the table and pretend absolutely nothing has changed! Well assflash, newshole! Things have changed.”
“I’m sorry, Wilbur, if you would just let me-”
“I will not.” Wilbur kept cutting him off. Schlatt sighed heavily and put his head down on the table. “You completely ignore me for two weeks, you even change your fucking parking spot so that you don’t have to see me, what the fuck is wrong with you? Was all that a joke to you? Coming over all the time? Pretending to be my friend? Was that a joke to you? Am I a joke to you?” Schlatt said nothing. “Huh? Fucking say something, you prick!” he smacked the back of Schlatt’s head, hard. Still Schlatt said nothing. Wilbur sat back down with a huff, and glared at the man across from him. Schlatt’s shoulders shook, slightly, and Wilbur’s glare softened just a bit.
“Look at me.” His words go ignored. “Schlatt, look at me,” he says firmly. Schlatt lifts his head up to meet his eyes, but only barely. His eyes are watery, his face is red. He looks away from Wilbur. Whatever anger Wilbur had that was directed at him melted away. “Oh, Schlatt…” he came around to Schlatt’s side of the table, and put an arm around him. The other was quick to bring an arm up to his face to wipe his tears away.
“I don’t think anyone is using the backroom at my work, you want to go there?” Wilbur offered.
“Sure,” Schlatt’s voice wavered. Wilbur led them to the Guitar Center, and into the back room. They sat down at the table there, and Schlatt stared off into space while Wilbur got himself situated.
“So what’s the matter?”
“It’s dumb.”
“What is it?”
“You’re gonna be mad at me again.” Schlatt’s voice sounded so hollow.
“Can you please tell me?”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” the tears were back. Wilbur went around to his side of the table and gathered him up in his arms. Schlatt repeated the apology like a mantra, saying it over and over. Wilbur tried to reassure him that he was fine, it was okay, but Schlatt was quick to tell him; “It’s not. I’m sorry for ignoring you, I’ve been an asshole, a fucking horrible friend. I just… I didn’t know what to do…”
“What’s the matter?” Wilbur asked. He rubbed circles into his friend’s back as he tried to calm him down.
“I mentioned my parents were homophobic as fuck?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, they said that no son of theirs would be a gay man, so they told me that either I stopped talking to you or I wasn’t welcome in their house anymore,” Schlatt explained. Wilbur was fuming. How fucking dare they? He was their son, and they were just willing to throw him out if he didn’t love who they said he would love? “And they’ve been doing this shit for years, but I’m not ready to move out yet. The landlord I’ve been talking to says that they won’t be ready for any new tenants until next month at the earliest, but I don’t know what I’m gonna do until then. I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to listen to my problems, they’re not important. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Schlatt put his forehead against Wilbur’s chest, and Wilbur hugged him tighter. The shorter one shook for a second, but melted into the hug, gripping his sweater like a lifeline.
“You can stay at my place, if you’d like. As long as you need or want. Phil won’t mind.”
“No, I couldn’t. It’s okay.”
“Have you got anywhere else to go?” Wilbur asked in a soft tone. Schlatt sighed into his chest and murmured a low “no” that Wilbur only registered because of the low hum that echoed in his chest.
“I can figure something out. It’s not a problem.” Schlatt didn’t sound convinced.
“Well, I know I would love to have you there. We still need to finish the game, after all,” Wilbur said, hoping his words at least made Schlat smile. The shorter gave a weak chuckle, but it was something.
“I need to go back to work,” Schlatt said. He made no effort to pull away from Wibur’s embrace. Wilbur nodded, frowning. The more that he thought about it, Schlatt probably didn’t get a whole lot of positive physical affection at home. Wilbur could change that. But Schlatt was right. They both needed to go back to work. Wilbur pulled away from the hug, and Schlatt sighed heavily. “Thank you. For… everything. And I’m sorry again for worrying you. I was just trying to… they said I had to stop talking to you because they didn’t want a gay son, and-”
“Wait, how do I come into this?” Wilbur asked, confused. He had just now caught that, and now he was extremely confused. “Those two things aren’t exactly related, Schlatt.” Schlatt met his eyes, and blinked up at him.
“Wilbur, I thought you knew. Fuck, this is awkward.” Schlatt broke eye contact to glare at the wall. He looked back up at him, his face tinted pink right down to the tips of his ears. “I like you, Wilbur. Like, more than I ever thought was possible for me. You make me… feel things… that I don’t know how to feel about. I feel happier than I have in years when I’m with you, and forcing myself to distance myself was harder than I’d like to admit.” He gave a shy chuckle. Wilbur’s heart fluttered for some strange reason. He thinks he knows the answer.
“Schlatt…” Wilbur prepared to say his piece, when Schlatt started on his first.
“I’m sorry if this makes things weird between us. I’ll understand if you don’t wanna be friends anymore, or if you don't feel the same, I completely get it. I just had to get it off my chest. I’m gonna go back to work now.” Schlatt turned to leave, but Wilbur grabbed his arm and spun him back around, pulling him in for a kiss. The american made a noise of surprise, but quickly relaxed into the kiss, letting the brit support him when his knees went a little weak. He pulled away and stared into Schlatt’s dazed eyes.
“I like you, too,” Wilbur smiled. Schlatt blinked back to reality.
“Really?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Wow. That was… I wasn’t expecting… you to actually like me back…”
“Surprise!”
“I really do need to go back to work… maybe we can continue this later?”
“Sure. Have a fantastic rest of your day.”
“See you in the parking lot,” Schlatt winked playfully. Once he was out of the room, Wilbur put a hand to his lips, where Schlatt’s had been. They were cold without his warmth.
Out in the parking lot, Wilbur came outside to see Schlatt leaning up against his car, fiddling with the sleeves on his sweatshirt. Wilbur smiled at him, walking over to him. He waved.
“So, did you really mean that? What you did. The kiss,” Schlatt asked, looking away. Wilbur gently cupped his face, making him look at him.
“I did. I would very much like to do it again, if that’s alright.”
“God, yes,” Schlatt said breathlessly. Wilbur leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss. Schlatt was pressed against his car as Wilbur leaned into him, deepening the kiss. Schlatt looped his arms around Wilbur’s neck and tangled one hand in his curly brown hair. Wilbur moved his arms to Schlatt’s waist, letting them rest there.
They pulled away breathlessly, looking into each other’s eyes.
“What did you decide about staying with me?” Wilbur asked.
“I’ve got to run home and get a few things first, if it's still alright that I do,” Schlatt said, rubbing his neck.
“Of course. Why don’t I come with you, just wait in the car.”
“Sure,” he paused. “We should just take one car.”
“Probably, yeah. Why don’t we drop off mine at my place, then we can take yours?”
“That works.” They tore apart from the hug, and got in their cars. Schlatt followed Wilbur home, where he dropped off his car, and hopped in Schlatt’s car. He texted Phil what the plan was, and they started driving. Schlatt stared blankly at the road, not saying anything until they got to his house, where he parked and unbuckled his seat belt. “Can you stay here while I grab some stuff? Won’t take me but a few minutes.” Wilbur nodded. Schlatt got out of the car and went inside. There were a few moments of silence until the front door opened again. Schlatt had a backpack and a duffel bag now, but that wasn’t what caught Wilbur’s attention. His mother and father had followed him outside, and were shouting at him as he completely ignored their words. He just kept walking away from them. Schlatt’s dad grabbed him by the shoulder and whipped him around, his fist making contact with Schlatt’s face immediately. He went down, reaching at his face. Wilbur was fucking fuming. He had half a mind to go out there and give them both a what-for, but the back of his mind told him that that would only make things worse.
Schlatt’s father kicked him once, twice in the side, before Schlatt stood up in a furor, shouting back with the same intensity as his parents, with an anger that Wilbur had never seen on Schlatt. It was a loud, abrasive sort of anger, like a large engine on the freeway, and you can’t hear anything except it. Or perhaps a tornado. Rushing words blowing past them as they destroyed everything in their path.
They were throwing words back and forth now, and eventually Schlatt said something that shut his parents right up, before grabbing his bags and whirling around, storming back to the car. He opened the door to the backseat and tossed his things in haphazardly, before shutting the door a tad harder than he needed to. He got in the driver’s seat and shut the door. His parents, upon seeing Wilbur in the passenger seat, stubbornly stood in front of the car to not let them pass. Schlatt growled in the back of his throat, muttering under his breath. Then his eyes lit up with an idea, and he turned his head towards Wilbur.
“Come here,” was all he said before grabbing the back of Wilbur’s neck and pulling him in for a rough kiss. This one wasn’t like the other ones, soft and sweet and full of only the kindest things that Wilbur could think to say. No. This one was born of fire and fury. Wilbur peeked his eyes open to see Schlatt’s parents looking on in disgust. Schlatt began moving the car forward, and when it became clear to them that he was not going to stop the car, they moved out of the way. Schlatt pulled away so he could drive, and Wilbur watched him flip his parents the bird as they became smaller and smaller behind them.
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Wilbur kept sneaking glances at Schlatt. All of the fire and defiance from a few minutes ago was gone from him now, replaced with a sullen sadness. The place where his father hit him in the face was red and slightly swollen, turning into a bruise.
“I’m sorry you had to see all that. I was going to just go in, get my stuff and leave, but they kept asking me where I was going, and I accidentally said I had someone waiting on me, and it sorta blew up from there,” Schlatt sighed.
“It’s okay, Schlatt. Are you, though? It looks like he hit you pretty hard…”
“Heh. That’s nothing. He at least hit me hard enough for me to start yelling back. But no, I’m fine. I’ve had worse, so it’s fine. It’ll heal.”
“What d’you mean you’ve had worse? Schlatt, that’s not okay.”
“Yeah, well. What can I do about it now?” They fell into a tense silence for a few minutes. Schlatt turned into Wilbur’s neighborhood.
“Hey, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable at all when I kissed you in front of my folks. Seemed like a great ‘screw you’ at the time, eh?” Schlatt chuckled, the laugh without any real humor in it.
“No, no. It’s okay. I wasn’t uncomfortable at all. I probably would have done the same, you know?” Wilbur smiled reassuringly. Schlatt parked his car on the side of the road in front of Wilbur’s house, but didn’t get out quite yet.
“Hey Wil?”
“Yeah, Schlatt?”
“What… What are we?” Schlatt looked up at him, his brown eyes round and unsure. Wilbur felt the butterflies in his stomach start to flutter around.
“What do you want us to be?”
“I dunno, that’s why I was asking you, dipshit.” Wilbur chuckled.
“I guess we could date. Or be boyfriends. Would you like that, Schlatt?”
“... maybe a little…” he murmured with a small smile, blushing.
“Then let’s be each other’s boyfriend. Shall we go inside?” Schlatt nodded. He got out of the car and grabbed his bags, wincing once as he tossed his backpack over his shoulder. “Do you want me to get that for you? I saw your dad kick you pretty hard…”
“Such a gentleman, Wilbur Soot. No thank you, I’ve got it,” Schlatt chuckled. They walked up to the door, which Wilbur opened for Schlatt, and they went up to Wilbur’s room, where Schlatt could put his stuff down for the time being while they finished getting the guest room ready.
They sat and talked about nothing for a little while, until Phil called everyone down, announcing that dinner was ready. Everyone filtered down, grabbing plates and food, before sitting down at the table. Once everyone was seated, they started eating. Phil looked around the table, his usual smile dropping once he saw the bruise on Schlatt’s face.
“What happened there, Schlatt?” his voice was laced with worry. Everyone at the table stopped eating and looked up at Schlatt, who shrunk back slightly when he felt everyone’s eyes on him.
“Nothing much. It looks worse than it is,” Schlatt waved away the question. Phil raised an eyebrow, and Schlatt flicked his eyes over at Tommy and Tubbo, then back at Phil. The message was clear. Not now. Not here. Phil nodded, and dropped the topic.
After dinner, Schlatt offered to clean up, so Wilbur helped him with that. Phil hung back after everyone else went upstairs.
“So what happened? To your eye?”
“My, uhh. My parents are kinda homophobic, and… well.”
“They did that to you?”
“I… yeah?”
“Of all the insufferable… I couldn’t talk to them, could I?” Schlatt barked out a laugh.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
Later, when Schlatt and Wilbur were in the latter’s room, Wilbur couldn’t stop sneaking glances at Schlatt. He gave the impression that he was fine, but Wilbur couldn’t help but get the feeling that he was hiding something.
“Hey, do you mind if I use your shower?” Schlatt asked, just as Wilbur was about to ask if he was okay. Wilbur nodded, and Schlatt stood, ruffling through his duffel bag and disappearing through into the bathroom. He shut the door, but it cracked open again. He tried again, to the same result.
“Sorry, the door doesn’t close well,” Wilbur explained.
“Oh.” There were sounds of clothes ruffling a moment later, and the shower started up. Wilbur pulled out his phone and fiddled with it. A few minutes later, the water turned off, and Schlatt got out. Wilbur waited a few more minutes. “Shit…” he cursed quietly. Wilbur raised an eyebrow, and then Schlatt cursed again, louder. “Ahh, fuck. Hey, Wil, I forgot a shirt, would you grab that blue sweater outta my bag?”
“Sure.” Wilbur got up, stretching, and grabbed the specified sweater. He took it over to the bathroom, handing it to Schlatt through the door. He caught a glimpse of the other man through the crack in the broken door. He was dressed, lacking only a shirt, but that wasn’t what startled him. There was a dark bruise on Schlatt’s side. Wilbur pushed open the door. Schlatt jumped, holding his sweater to his chest. Wilbur reached out for him, pulling him close and looking at the bruise. Schlatt tried to shy away from him, but Wilbur kept his grip on his arm.
“Did your dad do this…?” He ran his fingers lightly down the discoloured skin, leaving goosebumps. Schlatt leaned away from his touch, wiggling out of Wilbur’s grasp. The taller couldn’t help but notice other fading bruises and various scars on the American’s torso.
“I…”
“Did he?”
“Yes.” Schlatt’s voice was quiet, and he’d pressed himself as far into the wall away from Wilbur as he possibly could. He reminded Wilbur of a threatened animal. The Brit backed up and allowed Schlatt to hastily put on his fluffy sweater. He looked so small.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Schlatt. Come on. It’s a relationship, we need to be able to talk to each other,” Wilbur pressed.
“I know. I’m sorry. I just… haven’t had anyone to… Y’know. To talk to… about it,” Schlatt mumbled. Wilbur opened his arms, and Schlatt shyly stepped into them.
“You have me now. And Phil, and Techno, and Tommy and Tubbo. We’re all here for you. I’m here for you. You just say the word, Schlatt, and I would drop everything for you.”
“You don’t mean that. I’m not important enough.”
“Oh but you are. You’re important to me. You’re so important.”
“Thank you, Wilbur.”
“You’re welcome. Anything for you, my pretty princess.”
“Don’t… no. No.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“What? My pretty princess? You don’t like being my pretty princess?”
“No.” They shared a laugh. It fell into a comfortable silence, the boys still in each other’s arms. Wilbur noticed again how small Schlatt felt.
“You need to eat more, Schlatt. You feel small. You’re a big guy, not a small guy.” Schlatt scoffed.
“Yeah, that’s what they call me. Big Guy. I go around and I say ‘what’s up, Small Men, it’s Big Guy!’ And they go ‘oh hello Big Guy, how is the weather up there today?’ And I say ‘not as good as the view!’ And then I bump my head on a door frame,” Schlatt said with a flat tone, but Wilbur could feel the smile against his shoulder. Wilbur laughed at his words.
“Must be hard, being such a big guy.”
“It is, my feet hang off of my bed.”
“Part of the head scraper club?”
“Oh yeah. Scraping heads since puberty, when my balls dropped with my voice. I used to sound like a squeaky toy.”
“Are you serious? Did you really?”
“No, I used to sound like that one guy, Corpse, the guy they play on the radio at Spencer’s.” Wilbur let out a loud laugh while Schlatt chuckled.
“I bet you didn’t.”
“No no, you’re right. Used to sound like an American Tommy.”
“Oh god, don’t put that image in my head…”
“Too late, Soot.” They pulled away from each other and smiled. Wilbur’s smile fell first, and Schlatt’s immediately after, when he realized Wilbur was gonna be serious again.
“Schlatt, you know you can talk to me, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Remember that.”
“I will.” There was a knock outside Wilbur’s room.
“Wil? Schlatt? You in here?” Phil asked. Wilbur went and opened the door for him. “Hey, guys. Could I borrow Schlatt for just a quick second?” Schlatt nodded, and left the room with Phil.
“Schlatt, you’re a good kid. You get along well with my kids, Wilbur likes you, like, a lot, dunno if you know that yet.”
“Yeah, I do. He told me.”
“Right. Well. You know what I’m gonna say, then.”
“Vaguely?”
“Schlatt, you’re a good kid. It sucks, what your parents did to you, and I would give them a piece of my mind if I didn’t think it’d make things worse. But Wilbur is my son. If you hurt him, I’m sorry, but I’m gonna have to take his side. So, I think, will everyone else here.”
“Understandable. Wouldn’t expect anything less. I wasn’t planning on ever hurting him.”
“And Schlatt, if he hurts you, come tell me. I know it can be hard, since I’m his dad and all, but if he hurts you, let me know, I’ll make him apologize.”
“Thank you, Mr. Philza.”
“Just Phil, son.”
“Thank you, Mr. Just Phil.” Phil snorted and Schlatt smirked. The boy had taken his ‘talk’ better than Phil had thought he would. He was made of stronger stuff than he’d given the boy credit for. He let him go back to Wilbur, stopping him only once more to kindly ask if they keep any noise to a minimum. Schlatt flushed and shook his head.
“We’re, it’s not… no, we don’t-”
“I’m just yanking your chain. But seriously.”
“Yes sir,” he coughed out, flustered. He disappeared back into Wilbur’s room, and already Phil was feeling the father in him come up and want to help them.
Wilbur had mentioned Schlatt not being able to move out yet as the reason he had still been living with his parents, right? Maybe he could help that along.
Schlatt came back into Wilbur’s room, looking rather flustered.
“He didn’t give you the talk, did he?”
“He did, that’s not what I’m…”
“He made some lame joke about keeping the noise down?” Wilbur offered. Schlatt nodded. Phil used the same joke to anyone Wilbur had ever shown interest in. He rolls his eyes. “Sorry about that. He thinks he’s funny.”
About a month later, Schlatt had secured a small apartment a few minutes away from the mall. Wilbur had decided to move in with him. They had a little bit of help from Phil, sure, but it was mostly their own. Okay, a lot of help. They weren’t sure they could have ever done it without him.
But moving in would mean that Schlatt would need some more stuff from his parent’s. So he took a deep breath, called them up, and told them he was going to get his stuff out whether they liked it or not. They had said fine, go ahead, we don’t want it, we aren’t helping you, though.
So that night, Schlatt shyly brought up the topic, and everyone at the table almost immediately agreed to helping him get his stuff. And then they were all immediately smacked down by Schlatt's polite request to not beat them up.
“Awwww, why not?” Tommy whined.
“I don’t really want to make things worse.” Schlatt explained. They all reluctantly agreed. That Saturday, they piled a bunch of empty boxes into Schlatt and Phil’s cars, and went to Schlatt’s parents’ house. Schlatt’s parents did not try to speak to Schlatt, and vice versa. Wilbur could tell Phil was just itching to get onto them, tell them off for being shitty parents, but he respected Schlatt’s wishes and said nothing.
Schlatt led everyone up to his room. Most of his stuff was already in boxes, and he seemed to know where everything was, so it wasn’t his parent’s doing. He had been expecting this.
Phil walked into Schlatt’s house, itching for a fight that he would not pick. He wanted to, don’t get him wrong. He wanted to put Schlatt’s parents in their place, how dare they refuse to let Schlatt love who he wanted to love! The boy was practically one of his boys now, he just seemed to collect them. They just merged with his family.
But as they went deeper into the house, into Schlatt’s room, Phil really, really wanted to pick that fight. It seemed most of the boy’s stuff was already in boxes, which made Phil angry that his parents would preemptively pack up his things, until he found out that it was actually Schlatt who packed up everything. Everyone milled about, eventually finding a rhythm, packing up all of Schlatt’s things. There wasn’t much that needed packing. Mostly just the things on his bed and his clothes, a few Knick knacks here and there. Just when they were almost done, the feeling that something was going to happen struck again.
“Johnathan!” Schlatt’s mother spoke from down the hall. Phil wondered who Johnathan was, perhaps Schlatt’s father, when his mom called again, louder. “Johnathan Jebediah Schlatt, come here.”
Phill heard an exhale, and Schlatt walked over to the door and stuck his head out.
“What?” He yelled back. Johnathan must be Schlatt’s first name, then. Phil had grown so used to calling him ‘Schlatt’, that he forgot that that was only his last name.
“Come here!” His mother called. Schlatt scoffed under his breath, before gesturing ‘just a minute’ at them, slipping out of his room and down the hall, where he walked into where his parents were.
Something didn’t sit right with Phil, so against any better judgment he might have had about this, he told everyone to stay put, and walked out into the hall as well, hovering just behind the door. He could hear them quietly bickering. As the bickering got louder, he was able to understand it more clearly. They were arguing about Schlatt’s sexuality, and when Phil heard Wilbur’s name, he knew the fight had been picked. Schlatt’s voice rose in defense of his boyfriend, and his parent’s voices rose even higher than that. Phil peeked through the crack in the door, watching them argue.
He watched as Schlatt’s father seemed to tower over the boy, how Schlatt tried to make himself look bigger than what he was, but failing miserably. He watched as his father said something, and Schlatt shot something back just as fast, creating a stall in the argument. The look on Schlatt’s father’s face said it all. He raised a hand against his son, Schlatt’s eyes were wide and scared, and-
Phil did not just watch this happen. He suddenly found himself in the middle of the room with them, standing between Schlatt and his father. His father’s arm was caught in Phil’s hand.
“You will not lay a hand on him,” Phil spoke in a stern voice. Schlatt’s father jerked his hand away.
“Who are you to tell me how to discipline my own son?”
“He’s an adult, he can do what he wants.”
“Not under my roof!”
“Then let’s take this outside. For everyone to see.”
“No son of mine will be a faggot!” Phil could feel Schlatt withering behind him at the word.
“Then you are not worthy to be his parents. He is a wonderful kid, and I’m honestly sorry for you, not being able to see that.”
“You have no place in this discussion!”
“You brought my son into this, my boy Wilbur, I think I’m entitled to protect him.”
“But Johnathan is not your son, why do you protect him?”
“He’s as good as!”
“Bullshit, no one wants him!”
“You might not, but we do.”
“Fine. Get out,” Schlatt’s dad ordered. Phil put up his hands in surrender.
“No problem there. Your presence is already insufferable enough.” He led Schlatt out of the room, his parents fuming behind them. Thankfully, his sons had gotten most of the boxes outside, and were getting the last few. They packed them up in the cars, piling in. Schlatt’s parents came outside just as Schlatt opened the door to get in beside Wilbur.
“Johnathan, if you get in that car, you are not our son!”
“Bitch, please, I haven’t been ‘your son’ for fucking years!” He sat down in the driver’s seat defiantly.
“If you close that door, you better never come back!” Schlatt turned to Wilbur.
“We got everything, right?” He asked. Wilbur nodded. Schlatt closed the car door. Both cars drove away, ignoring the screaming adults that were already fading behind them.
That night, Schlatt came up to him, thanking him for stepping between him and his father.
“Beyond words, I never… I couldn’t stand up to him. He’s bigger, stronger, it would only have made things worse. But you, another adult? It’s at least… I dunno. Anyway, thank you. Haven’t ever had… anyone who would do that. So thank you. And your children.”
“You’re welcome, Schlatt. I meant it when I said you’re as good as my son, you know.”
“Thanks.”
“Anytime.” Phil patted Schlatt on the shoulder. He smiled. A real, genuine smile. Phil smiled back.
Wilbur and Schlatt had settled into their apartment. They were happy together, and they had everything they needed. So far, they had lived there for about a month. That was when the news came.
“Schlatt, you will not believe what happened at work today,” Wilbur said, slamming his bag on the table as soon as they got home.
“What happened, Wilbur,” Schlatt complied, a just barely there smirk that revealed what he knew.
“Today, I was… I was promoted to manager! Finally, after years of working there and doing their job for them, I am finally doing my job for them!”
“That’s fantastic, Wilbur!” Something about Schlatt’s tone implied he knew that already.
“You knew, didn’t you?”
“Well, Ahh, now that’s tricky.”
“What did you do.”
“I mean, I didn’t know , per se, but it was a definite possibility.”
“What did you do, Schlatt?”
“I may have had a word with the other managers that day when I was late for break. Turns out, they meant to a while ago, they deadass just forgot.”
“Are you fucking serious?”
“Yeah.”
“Well congratulations to me anyway, I’m finally the fucking manager.”
“Congrats to you! Do you want ice cream?”
“Of course. Say, why haven’t you been promoted to manager yet? You’ve been there long enough.”
“Uh, I don’t know where anything is in the store.”
“What the fuck, you’ve been there for years.”
“Yeah. Well. Congrats to youuuuu!” He did some jazz hands.
“Congrats to me,” Wilbur chuckled.
They were happy.