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Summary
“Ugh,” Tommy groaned as he squirmed under the feeling of cool cream being smeared over his irritated skin. “This isn’t fair. Why did all the bigs bite me and not you? We were together the whole time!”
“I don’t know, Toms,” Wilbur replied as he dotted the last mosquito bite on Tommy’s shoulder blade with some cream. He pulled away afterward, wiping his fingers on his pant leg and capping the tube of ointment. “I guess you’re just sweeter than I am.”
Or, Tommy gets covered in bug bites and Wilbur is there to help (kinda).
