Chapter Text
“Tommy!”
A voice rings out, Wilbur’s voice, loud and commanding with a tone that screams “don’t try me” but can’t help but be laced with impeccable fondness.
The blond in question was leaning over the arm of the couch, reaching up to grab at the fabric of Wilbur’s sweater--who was standing on top of said couch arm--in a desperate attempt to yank him down to the ground.
“What?! You started this battle big man!” He retorts playfully, laughter filling his lungs as Wilbur lifts a single, fuzzy socked foot to kick him in the face.
“If you two spill my hot chocolate; I’m burning the house down.” Techno pipes up, scooting as far away from the brothers as the couch will allow.
It was Christmas eve at the Sleepy Bois Inc. household, and they were celebrating in traditional chaotic style. Each of the boys was dressed to the nines in god awful sweaters, matching identically to one another aside from their names embroidered on the sleeves. A large tree rested in the corner of the room, covered in lights and ribbons, beneath it sat an assortment of wrapped goods. Some pristine and pretty looking in their covering and others... clearly wrapped by Tommy, with corners sticking out and too much tape to be deemed appropriate. Finally, a comforting fire roared quietly in the front of the room, filling this place with a homey glow and a warm feeling of safety.
“Boys be careful, Wilbur you especially you could break an ankle up there.” Philza comments from his recliner placed directly in front of the fire. Tubbo sits on the floor in front of him with his head tilted to rest on the older man’s lap, he lets out a sound of agreement. Philza Idly combs his hand through the brunette's hair.
Tommy turns and sticks his tongue out to the two, earning another surprise (but playful) kick to the face from Wilbur. He recoils.
“Ow! Hey that’s cheating!”
“All’s fair in war baby!”
“Oh shove it rip-off Jason Dean.”
With a final tug to his ankles Wilbur comes toppling down onto the couch, Techno raises his mug high into the air and shoves himself as far into the corner of the couch as possible, every muscle tensing to save his precious scorching liquid chocolate.
With an audible “oof” Wilbur’s back hits the plush pillows and he lays stunned. Tommy lets out a triumphant laugh as he leans over the older, who merely stares for a moment before pulling the blond into a headlock and an intense noogie.
Phil merely shakes his head to the pair, a huge smile crawling across his face. “You boys are gonna be the death of me.”