bed bug hickies - wilbur soot x male!reader

nineteen

cw: transphobia, slight physical violence (NOT between (y/n) and wilbur); fighting (very brief and ONLY verbal)

big day for the rainbow community, a bed bug hickies update with angst at two-thirty am!

/

(y/n) unlocks the flat door, setting a small bag of groceries on the table, chewing on his lip as he walks farther into the living room.

Wilbur is at his office, streaming lore. He smiles slightly at the thought of his boyfriend excitedly sharing the details when he eventually arrives home, his smile lighting up the entire room.

But for now the living room is cold. The blinds are open letting in the grey-colored sky. It was supposed to snow that afternoon but it seems to just be stuck in a constant state of overcast.

(y/n) frowns, going to close them. He doesn't need another reminder of his shitty mid-morning errands.

First it was the fact the local grocer was out of Wilbur's favorite tea, then he somehow got recognised by a fan (not that it's a bad thing, he just wasn't prepared for the onslaught of questions from the girl nor the request of a picture when he was clearly not trying his hardest to pass), then the whole thing came to a head when he went to the pharmacy.

(y/n) scowled as he remembered the sour look he got when he went to pick up his testosterone items, the vials and syringes had been filled, and it was supposed to be a quick pick up so he could finally go home.

The person working seemed friendly enough but when they went to go find his prescription, another patron came over. He was tall, a big burly man with greying hair.

(y/n) tried to ignore the man's stare, pretending to be texting someone in hopes the man left him alone, but of course the universe chose today to fuck hin over.

The man had asked why he was here as he didn't look sick, before cutting off (y/n)'s simple reply with some rant. He went on and on about how he was poisoning his body, that he was changing what he was gifted with - the man made a point to shove an accusing finger at his chest - spitting out how he was ungrateful for said gift.

(y/n) only scuffed. It wasn't new rhetoric being yelled at him. He told the man to mind his business, trying to be as polite as possible to not escalate the situation.

The man only seemed to get more angerier at (y/n)'s dismal of his ideals, his jaw setting.

(y/n) flinched when the man shoved him hard into the offending aisle. The other patrons watched, none of them making a move to deter the situation.

(y/n) wasn't fast enough to move out of the way when the man's fist collided with his face. He grunted, his head spinning as he weakly shoved the enraged man away from him, before leaving the pharmacy as quickly as he could. He crossed the street and took the long way back to the flat just to be sure the man wasn't following him.

He had debated calling Wilbur but he didn't want to interrupt the stream. He knew how much Wilbur worked to stream as much as he could with his own insecurities breathing down his neck all the time.

Calling Tommy was also off the table as well. His brother is in the stream as well if memory serves him correctly. Besides, the kid hadn't learned to drive yet and (y/n) knew for a fact their parents would rather let him lose a limb than let Tommy come down to Brighton.

So he was left running home, standing in the recently cleaned living room, his cheek dripping blood from where the man's wedding ring cut his check on impact.

(y/n) walked towards the bathroom, wiping the blood on his sleeve as he grabbed the first aid kit Wilbur kept in the medicine cabinet. He carefully cleaned the open cut, sticking a bandaid on it for good measure before putting the supplies away.