Chapter Text
Wilbur attempts to sling his arm around Tommy who steps away, focusing on a piece of thread stuck to his shirt. The walk to Las Nevadas had been like that, Wilbur trying to get closer or talk and Tommy shutting him down at every turn. Phil had insisted they spend some ‘bonding time’ seeing as things seemed tense between them. Understatement of the year.
At least this time is different than last time. With Wilbur going to Quackity to ‘apologize’ and cause a scene. Which is exactly why Tommy isn’t telling Wilbur that Quackity is away visiting his fiances or something, he can’t remember. Fucking bitch is going to walk into Las Nevadas planning on talking to Quackity and will be so surprised when he’s not the-
“Have I ever told you how much you’ve changed?” Wilbur’s voice cuts through the silence, “Because you’ve changed a lot. You act like a grown up now and you’re hardly eighteen.”
“Have I ever told you how much I hate your stupid fucking face?” Tommy spits, his tone laced with venom.
“Many times, yes.” Wilbur chuckles, running his hands through his hair as the woods around them slowly shift into a flower field. “You have a knack for insulting people. Me especially if this morning was any indication.”
“I’m a big man who only speaks in facts,” He rolls his eyes, keeping careful to match his pace to Wilbur’s. The grass beneath them is soft, achingly so. Tommy’s shoes had long since gone back into his inventory when the snow faded into dewy moss while Wilbur still wore his ratty work boots. “And you’re a rat.”
“A rat who bought you cake when you were ten.” Wilbur tugs at a strand of white hair, the sight making Tommy’s skin crawl. His own white patch of hair was hidden under a green bandanna given to him by ghostboo.
“Ten. Eight years ago.” Tommy mutters, the memories of warm pastries and lemonade fill his mind. Wilbur would sing on the streets while Tommy awkwardly played Wil’s guitar to get enough loose change to buy sweets at a bakery in the village.
“Alright Toms,” Wilbur gestures to the glass case containing a vast array of desserts. Tommy’s eyes immediately land on a layered cake slice with a curved lemon slice on top. The icing looked like clouds and dark brown chocolate shreds match Wilbur and Techno’s hair. “Take your pick.”
“The lemon one!” He bounces back and forth on his heels, clenching and unclenching his hands as he watches the cashier reach for the slice on display. Wilbur grins as he points to a butterscotch biscuit on the opposite end of the display. “Wil, have we got enough for Techno’s cookies?”
“Course we do,” Wilbur grins as the cashier grabs two double chocolate cookies. “Big man Wilbur’s always got enough money for you and Techno.”
Tommy eyes the cookies carefully, watching as the cashier wraps the sweets in a brown paper bag with a twine string. “You sure we can’t eat them?”
“Tech’d probably kill us if we did.” Wilbur rolls his eyes, grabbing the bag and handing the cashier a handful of coins. “I bet he’s killed for less.”
The two boys walk out of the bakery, sweets in hand and spare change for tomorrow’s trip to town. The sun bears down on their backs, prickling their necks with sweat and sticking their hair to their skin. The humidity makes their hair curl and yet lay flat all at once but the two boys simply walk along the path, not a care in the world.
“We were younger then,” Tommy steps away from Wilbur, stuffing his hands in his pockets as the shining gates of Las Nevadas come into view. “There’s no time for that now.”
“There’s never any time for anything!” Wilbur exclaims, ignoring the way Tommy jumps as he swings his arms open to the slight breeze. “Take advantage of it while you can Toms.”
He watches as Wilbur walks along, faster now with purpose. If he knew him, and he did, Wilbur wouldn’t let go of Tommy’s words this easily. For now though, Tommy could enjoy his fake sincerity.
“It’s never my time.” He whispers, trotting to catch up to Wilbur.