Onceler dreaded leaving his room. Ever since Seattle was placed under quarantine in an attempt to slow the spread of rabies, all of his roommates had been home at the same time for the first time since they've lived together. It wasn't an ideal living situation in all honesty, Onceler grew tired of Bill's constant mockery. They used to all get along swimmingly, but sometime ago Bill started getting chatty. Sure they had different styles of evil, Onceler preferred the effects of late stage capitalism on a society and the environment, and Bill liked to create longterm psychological damage. Onceler never really looked into Bill's work, all he knew was that he bragged about traumatizing some kids with physical manifestations of nightmares or something. Regardless, it wasn't like Bill was the evilest person in the apartment.
Evil is, in that regard, hard to measure; Onceler's evil was widespread, but it resulted more from his own greed and lust for wealth than anything he had against the people or environment he ended up destroying. That was just a consequence.
Bill's evil was very targeted, and very intentional. He might have wanted the effects to be widespread, to effect the world, to End the world, but he failed. Instead he traumatized one town, but from the sounds of things did a pretty damn good job. Onceler heard there were monsters from another dimension. That was impressive, a nice touch, although he'd never say so.
Then there was Tony. Onceler was pretty sure something was different about Tony. The only work he ever did he was represented by a clock in a weird fever dream of a murderfest caused by the accelerated passage of time, so there was that. Onceler didn't ask much more of Tony than he absolutely had to. Although he did try to spend time with him, Tony was much nicer to Onceler than Bill was.
Onceler was very much procrastinating leaving his room by thinking of all this. His stomach could only handle another handful of truffula seeds before demanding real food. He creeped out the door, hoping maybe the yellow sociopath would have gone to bed early. This was not the case.
"Hey tree boy, knit any sweaters lately?" the all mighty Bill Cypher called from the couch.
"No your royal highness I have not. Don't you have some work to do or something? Didn't your job move to video calls?" Onceler tried to deflect.
"They answer to me, and anyway, business in the evil industry has been slow going since everybody has been staying home. The only monsters I can get jobs for is hiding in closets and under beds. I feel like I'm running Monsters Inc here," Bill seemed thoroughly distracted for a moment before adding, "not that you would know how the evil industry is going, you left the trade,"
"Hey, textile engineering is a more sustainable job,"
Onceler hated it, but he had learned about the importance of "sustainability" by running his own company into the ground after monopolizing most of the industries in a previously resource-rich area with a little sprinkling of vertical integration that left the entire local economy and ecosystem demolished along with his career...
"Oh since when do you care about sustainability?" Bill chortled.
"Hey, I'm not the one who wanted to end the world, I just happened to get closer than you did," Onceler retorted, inching closer to the kitchen to see if they had any poptarts left.
"Ouch, I'm wounded," Bill pressed his hand to his head and threw himself back into the couch cushions. "We'll see who has a sustainable career once this quarantine is over, there will be a market for post-quarantine murders you know, people being cooped up with the same person for months leads to some interesting problems..."
Onceler watched the smile creep onto Bill's face. His cruel soulless eyes almost seemed to fill with a light of pleasure, and those dimples that only appeared on the rarest of occasions graced his cheeks, and the soft wisps of blond locks fluttered in his face, he was oblivious of course, enchanted by his own imaginings.
"Is that how you're going to feel about us?" Onceler asked suddenly, maybe to cover the amount of time he had spent observing the change in Bill's demeanor, maybe because he thought the sound of the toaster being filled with poptarts might muffle the question.
"Oh, well," his face fell, pensive. "No, I don't think so,"
"Just me then? You hate me already don't you?" Onceler might have been trapped in these four walls a bit too long, if he didn't address things now he might have to find another forest to destroy.
"Who said I hated you?" Bill sat upright, his usual sarcastic wit left behind on the cushions, "Was it Tony? He should know he doesn't have to be jealous, after all-"
"Jealous?"
Bill tipped his head.
"Let me try again, was it Tony?"
"No, it wasn't Tony, you just belittle me all the time! I know that's what you do but geez, you didn't used to do it to us, and you do it to me most of all!"
Bill visibly steeled himself.
"Evil as I am, I was under the impression you didn't mind the banter. It was enjoyable to see you flustered-"
Onceler's poptarts erupted from the toaster at a perfect time for him to hide the blush appearing on his face, and for Bill to regather himself again.
"Let me make this clear," Bill continued, "I Do Not Hate You. I had thought you didn't hate me as well, but correct me if I'm wrong,"
"I don't," Onceler was looking at his poptart.
"Onceler," Bill said softly, the words penetrating Onceler's chest, "I like you."
Onceler had forgotten about the poptarts.
"I like you too."
"Well then," Bill's face was sufficiently red, "I suppose that's that then, I do believe I have some. Video calls to make. You know, monster business,"
Onceler called upon the courage he once had while singlehandedly demolishing an entire forest and walked over to Bill. How bad could this be?
"Listen, Sir Triangle," Onceler leaned down to flick the triangle earrings Bill always wore, a strange but endearing aesthetic choice, "if you leave it at that I'll have to destroy the world before you get the chance to,"
Bill quickly caught Onceler's face and pressed it against his own, their lips meeting in the middle for a not very bad kiss.
"Toilet paper time!" Tony called into the living room as he walked in the door, a successful hunt for essential goods. They had been using magazines to wipe for the past two days since Onceler refused to let them use the thneed, "Ah, I see time sorted this one out,"
Onceler blushed, but Tony appeared by his side and planted a kiss on his cheek, and put a matching one on Bill's forehead.
"This was out of my hands, but this all turned out fine!" Tony chimed.