Work Text:
“Tommy stop hogging the bathroom!” Wilbur bashed his shoulder against the door, “Other people live here too!”
“I’m in the middle of something! Go down to the gas station!”
“Tommy I am not walking down the street to use the bathroom! You have been in there for like 20 minutes! I have work soon! Open the door!”
“No! I told you I’m busy!”
Wilbur slumped against the door, groaning, of course Tommy would do this. He walked into the kitchen and started rummaging through the drawers, hoping to find one of the house keys Phil had for emergencies.
Wilbur ended up turning half of the house upside down looking for a key that might or might not exist. He wondered if it would have been easier to just walk down to the gas station but remembered that
gas station bathrooms were another dimension entirely and decided against it.
He finally found a set of keys in a desk in the back of their living room. After testing different keys he finally found one that fit.
“I hope you’re decent!” The lock clicked and Wilbur pushed the door open, took one look at Tommy, and threw his head, laughing.
“Hey!”
“Wait wait wait! Stand right there, I wanna take a picture of you!” Wilbur pulled out his phone with shaky hands to take a picture of Tommy who was standing there with a pink hair dye bottle in hand,
plastic gloves, and had dye dripping down his face and arms onto the counter sink.
“Excuse me dickhead-”
“Techno and Phil are gonna love this-”
“Do not share that picture!”
“I won’t if you tell me why you are dying your hair pink.” Wilbur said, crossing his fingers behind his back.
“I am just doing streaks and it’s because I lost a bet with Tubbo, Purpled, Ranboo, and Drista.” Tommy said, sounding almost business like.
“And the pink?” Wilbur was trying to stifle his laughing.
“It was either this or neon green and I’d prefer to look like Techno more than a roller rink wall.” Tommy turned back to the mirror, tipping his head to the side, lathering more dye in his hair.
“Wow you are really messy,”
“Yeah I’ve never done this before Mr. Perfect!” Tommy sassed, more dye splattered on the floor. Wilbur went and grabbed a sponge then started wiping down the sink and parts of the floor. Tommy set the
leaking bottle on the counter, disregarding Wilbur attempts to clean it, pulled off his gloves and threw them in the trash.
“Now I just have to wait for,” He grabbed the box, “30 minutes.” He groaned, “Aw this is gonna take forever!”
Wilbur hummed trying to discreetly send the picture to Phil and Techno while Tommy washed the dye off his arms and face.
“Wilbur.” Tommy’s eyes darted between the sink and his brother, “Wilbur Wilbur Wilbur, it’s- it’s not coming off,” Wilbur looked over and saw bright pink dye still prominent against his skin, he snorted.
“I think it’s stained.”
“What!”
“Don’t worry it’ll come off eventually, you’ve seen how Techno looked when he first started dying his hair. Just let me see-” He grabbed Tommy’s arm, acting like he was examining it then pulled out his
phone and snapped a picture.
Tommy shrieked, jumping at Wilbur trying to get him to delete the photo.
“I already sent the other one and they are going to see it anyways so-”
“What!”
“I had my fingers crossed-”
“I’m gonna kill you!” Wilbur pushed him back.
“Do not get hair dye on me and look! They responded! They like it!” He showed Tommy his phone.
“He’s trying to steal my brand” from Techno and “What the fuck” from Phil.
Tommy looked at him and Wilbur shrugged, “That’s the closest you’ll get to hearing them say that.”
Sadly Wilbur had to work so he didn’t get to see the final product until Tommy texted him later on; “They won’t stop calling me a ‘rose’.”
“??” Wilbur sent back.
“Ranboo said that my hair looked like a sunkissed rose and now everyone is calling me rose!!”
“That sounds like a you problem Tommy, I’m at work.”
“You are useless”