Chapter Text
It's a cloudy spring day on Tommy's eighteenth birthday.
After celebrating it with his friends the night before, and with his parents in the early morning, now it's just the two of them. Right now, as Wilbur takes a good look at the kid -- no, young adult -- right before him, he's struck with just how different he looks... or maybe he just looks at him differently instead.
"So Wil," Tommy had said right after getting into the passenger seat of the car, buckling his seatbelt with sheer enthusiasm. "It's time. It's the day. I'm finally a year older."
"Finally a big man, are we, now?" Wilbur teases, and the way that Tommy flushes is so beautiful, he wants to capture it somehow. It's too bad he doesn't have his phone handy. He's not an artist either and besides, aphantasia doesn't help whatsoever.
Maybe he could try to, in a song.
A song just for Toms.
"Yeah, I'm not a kid anymore."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," Tommy echoes, his voice soft, as if he's unsure of where to go next with his train of thought. "So you know, I can... do adult things."
I promise you, Wilbur had said months ago, murmuring into his microphone. I promise you, when you turn eighteen, we can explore this. I just want to make sure that you want me. And that I want you. And that down the line, we still want this. And that we're prepared for something like this.
I'm prepared, Tommy insisted, but Wilbur shook his head.
I'm too obsessive; I would suffocate you and you're still a kid. Our one kiss, last time? That already has me reeling still. I can't imagine how you must feel about it. Tommy, I want you to have time to grow for yourself, rather than have an adult breathe down your neck and hover over you during those important growing years. Plus, it's probably safest for us to wait until then anyway.
You're right, Tommy whined. I hate that you're right.
So you'll wait?
We'll wait. Tommy sniffed. I'll wait for you.
Until then, my love, Wilbur had cooed. The parting may be bitter, but may the reunion be just as sweet.
"So you're prepared, then?"
A silly question, really, because the two of them have been itching and waiting for this moment alone. They'd never really talked about it beforehand, but they knew that this meeting would be about this very subject.
Wilbur doubts Tommy would have been this excited for it if he hadn't still wanted him, wanted this relationship.
"More than it," comes the reply. "I've never been so sure of anything."
"You're still a growing kid, are you sure?" Wilbur teases again. "You sure you want this old dickhead along with you? You could have anyone else. Tubbo, even."
"Don't even," Tommy huffs, playing up the fake anger. "You know we're just friends."
Still, Wilbur can tell just by looking at the younger one that he's a jumbled mess of nerves, likely from it being the first serious relationship he's ever been in. It doesn't help that they've been sitting on these feelings for months now; and since the feelings haven't gone away for either of them, Wilbur's sure his feelings must be intensified instead.
"We can take it slow," Wilbur says with a hint of humor in his voice. "Don't need to rush into it."
He pretends not to see Tommy let out a small breath of relief.
"Yeah, that's cool with me. We have the rest of our lives, don't we?"
Wilbur looks down at Tommy to give him a smile, as gentle as the breeze and as warm as the sun.
"Yeah, the rest of our lives," Wilbur echoes -- and as he says that, he's struck with the realization that he means it, too.