TommyInnit's unbeatable method of avoiding sudden death // ao3 reupload

Chapter 11: That's What I Like

"Go to fucking sleep gremlin," Wilbur huffs, placing a hand in Tommy's hair.

"What the fuck?" Tommy mumbles, eyes already falling shut as the fingers in his hair start moving.

"Shh," Wilbur hushes him, "It's too early and once you start talking, you don't fucking stop."

Tommy frowns. That's just bloody rude.

"That's fucking rude big man, I'll have you know-"

"Shut the fuck up," Wilbur growls.

Tommy clamps his mouth shut.

Listen, Wilbur isn't scary or anything, Tommy could probably, totally, maybe, take the guy in a fight. Anyways, Tommy isn't listening to the guy cause' he's scary, that'd - that'd be stupid. He's just - he's just tired okay? He's not intimidated by the hero or anything. He's fucking TommyInnit, the courageous and athletic and handsome and charismatic vigil-

The fingers running through his hair make his mind buffer for a second, a yawn escaping.

He's - he's TommyInnit, the courageous and athletic and-

Wilbur hums lightly, chest rumbling beneath Tommy's head.

He's - he's TommyInnit, the - the...

_____

"You drugged me!" Tommy accuses over the dining table.

Wilbur raises a tired eyebrow at him. Philza isn't even listening, scrolling through Twitter or something. Technoblade is drowning in his bowl of cereal.

"I what?" The man yawns.

" Drugged me," Tommy hisses. He turns to Philza, "Philza, Philza, he drugged me."

Philza hums, glancing over at him, momentarily turning his attention from his phone, "He did what mate?"

" Drugs, " Tommy whispers, "I have been drugged."

Philza nods, "And how did you come to that conclusion?"

"I- I was forced back to sleep against my will," Tommy seethes, "He used magic and drugs. Magical drugs."

Philza tilts his head, "I thought his ability didn't work on you?"

Tommy raises a finger, pausing, "Well, that's why it wasn't his ability. It was fucking drugs."

"There's no drugs in penthouse, mate," Philza smiles before pausing, "At least, I fucking hope not."

"Drugs is the only possible reason," Tommy stares.

Wilbur snorts, "Hey Phil, Phil, scratch his hair."

"Hmm what, why?" Philza frowns, despite his hand already reaching out towards Tommy.

Wilbur just grins, the bastard, "Just do it."

Tommy goes to protest only for his brain to completely shut down, form slumping in the fingers that comb through his hair.

Philza lets out a surprised laugh, "Oh my god," He marvels, "It's- it's like his off button. Wil, you're a genius."

Tommy tries to glare at Wilbur from his slumped position.

Wilbur smirks, "He's like a puppy, fucking annoying all the time."

Tommy sluggishly lifts his middle finger, "Fuck off, you stupid bitch boy," He scowls.