bed bug hickies - wilbur soot x male!reader

thirteen

cw: slight panic attack, brief 

shocking im uploading at four in the afternoon, def not avoiding hw at all nope 

/

Wilbur made a point to avoid flirting - however unintentionally - with (y/n) the rest of the way back to his flat. His brain was jumping back in forth in his skull as he replayed the comment in his mind over and over again.

"I know you're straight."

The comment had stung more than he had expected it too. He knew it was going to be inevitable to avoid (y/n) saying something along those lines. He knew so because he's terrified of coming out to (y/n), he doesn't want the boy to think he likes him (which he does but that's beside the point).

So Wilbur holes up in his room after the shopping, guilty leaving Tommy and (y/n) to put the groceries away as he feigns a headache.

"Do you want me to give you any Tylenol? I brought some with me." (y/n) asks softly before Wilbur can escape from the front entry. (y/n)'s voice is quiet, much too considerate for what Wilbur deserves for his harsh reply.

"I'm fine. You don't have to baby me, I'm an adult." He snaps, harsh. He doesn't turn around to see (y/n) wince at the coldness of his tone or Tommy boring holes into his back.

He locks and closes his bedroom door, resting his forehead against the cool wood.

Wilbur ignored the way his throat felt like it was closing in on itself, the lump that was forming felt like it was cutting his breathing off and he dug his fingers into his hair, pulling harshly.

The pain should ground him, he panicky thinks. There's no way he's going ot have a fucking panic attack with the siblings not even fifty feet away.

Wilbur steadies himself, taking a deep breath as he collapses onto his bed, wrapping the top sheet around himself.

He's a total idiot. (y/n) didn't know, he had no fucking clue that Wilbur wasn't straight. And here he is, crying into a blanket because of it.

He stripped off his shirt and jeans, throwing them across the room, and curled up into his bed, silently letting himself cry.

-

Wilbur is woken up by a door slam, unlocking his bedroom door in a hurry. He runs into the front room with a portable lamp to be met with (y/n) carrying chinese food.

He feels his face blush, he's only in his underwear. (y/n) quickly diverted his eyes, his cheeks dark red.

"I- Sorry I went to go get food from that chinese place down the street." (y/n) says quietly.

Wilbur nods. His throat is dry and he lowers the lamp, letting his arms drop to his side.

"Where, uh, where's Tommy?" Wilbur says horsley. He cringes at the sound of his voice and how raspy it is from crying himself to sleep.

(y/n) looks back up at him and Wilbur takes note on how his eyes are trained on his face, like he's forcing himself to only look at his face.

(He definitely doesn't take note of that and store it for later, nope, not at all.)

"Bathroom," (y/n) mutters, turning and going to the kitchen to set the food down. "Had to take a massive shit."

Wilbur can't help but chuckle and (y/n) does too. "Ok, well I'm going to put clothes on so Tommy doesn't shout about needing to bleach his eyes."

"W-wai, Will?" (y/n) says timidly, swiping his tongue against his top lip when Wilbur turns back around.

"I'm sorry if I made you upset, earlier with my comment. I didn't mean for it to make you angry or anything."