Tommy's Ultra-Important Keychain

Chapter 27: Knock knock

Tommy was freaking out. Panicking.

Frantically, he waved his arms around the kitchen. It was a poor, pitiful attempt to rid his apartment of the looming smoke. The stove continued billowing new clouds, destroying Tommy's efforts. The offending dish bubbled on the counter, smelling for all the world like it was radioactive.

"Stupid fucking frozen pizza," he swore under his breath, inhaling a mouthful of that burnt cheese stench.

Tubbo was going to kill him if the toxins in the air didn't. It was his night to cook, and he'd gone and fucked it up. Tubbo would be back from work any moment now. If their oven was harmed in any serious manner, then there was no way Tommy was making it out alive.

He opened a window, sighing at the night chill that crept in. The pizza was unsalvageable. Tommy trashed it to spare himself the shame of being near such a clear failure. He couldn't hide it from his roommate, but at the very least, he could order a replacement.

They were trying to cut down on their take-out expenses, so this would mean they couldn't order again for a while. Tommy reasoned that, if it postponed his painful demise, he didn't mind. As up and coming adults, Tubbo suggested they budget themselves. Tommy had the infinite income of his uncle at his fingertips, but Tubbo couldn't live with him forever, and he claimed to need the practice.

The pizza guy arrived before Tubbo, thankfully, and Tommy made quick work of setting the table. To add to the ambience, and totally not to filter out the strange smell lingering around the room, he lit two scented candles.

Tubbo arrived a bit later, stepping through the door and instantly pausing. Tommy waited for him in the doorway to the kitchen. "Hey, Tubs. How was work?"

"Fine," Tubbo responded, scanning the room suspiciously. He zeroed in on the candles. "Did something happen?"

"What? No," Tommy grasped for straws. "I just wanted to do something special for you."

"Uh huh."

Tubbo shut the door to the apartment, slipping out of his shoes, and setting his bag next to them. All the while, he didn't look away from the candles. The scents were clashing, which Tommy was painfully aware of, but he needed them both. He had to pray Tubbo's nose wasn't what it used to be.

He did not have that kind of luck. "Tommy, what did you burn?"

"That's just my mixtape," Tommy replied sadly. The poor joke earned him a flick to the forehead. "Fine, fine. It's that frozen pizza."

"How do you fuck up something with such clear instructions," Tubbo groaned, head lolling back.

"I think it's really up to interpretation," was the closest he got to answering. The conversation shifted to Tubbo's day at work, and they ate their greasy, delivery food.

"There's a lot I could do if the boss would just let me experiment with the cars," Tubbo ranted. "I mean, the engines alone could be made so much more efficient. A few fans and a little bit of trust, I think I know how to create a perfectly green car."

"Capitalism," Tommy sighed, and Tubbo nodded like that was exactly the problem. They didn't need complex sentences to understand each other's plights. It had always been like that, and it would continue to be like that for years to come.

Tommy felt a bit better knowing their bond wasn't shaken by the new, constant, invisible strain threatening it every second of every day. As long as no one found out anything about him without his permission again, they would be fine.

"There was a man looking for you in the lobby earlier."

Tubbo's comment made Tommy choke on his pizza. His roommate shrugged nonchalantly, as if that wasn't a huge deal. Although, it probably wasn't to someone who didn't know his life-shattering secrets, and it was actually a good thing Tubbo didn't care about this because it would be really bad if he noticed something–