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Tubbo was (of course) the first one to return home after his shift. He unlocked the door, swung it open, and half-collapsed on the bench near the front door to pull off his boots. He peeked through his bangs to see Tommy on the couch with Michael in his arms and quieted down his tired struggling.
“How was work?” Tommy whisper-called from the couch, only sounding half interested in the actual answer to the question. Tubbo dropped his boots near the door and hung his coat up before stepping into the living room.
“Boring,” Tubbo said, leaning over the back of the couch and resting his chin on Tommy’s head. He looked over at Michael sleeping soundly in Tommy’s arms, wrapped snugly in a blanket. It looked more like Tommy was holding an infant than a piglin toddler. The moment would’ve been incredibly soft if it weren’t for Tommy tilting his head back to look up at Tubbo, his eyebrows furrowed and he squinted at him.
“Bleg,” Tommy stuck his tongue out, “work sounds like a drag. What do you even need a job for? We have Ranboo.”
“Eh, I need something to do,” Tubbo climbed over the armrest, squeezing himself next to Tommy, “besides Ranboo can’t be the only source of income in this family.”
Tommy rolled his eyes, “bleg, economics.”
Tubbo chuckled and gently took Michael from Tommy. The sleeping bundle of piglin child didn’t even stir from being moved. He was out cold.
“Jeez, what'd you do to the poor kid?” Tubbo asked, pressing a kiss to Michael’s forehead and leaning against Tommy’s side.
“We had a big adventure, went out and played in the snow then I had to be toy doctor Tommy because he ripped his chicken,” Tommy explained, “that’ll tire anyone out. I’m tired from all that.”
“You know you can sleep when you’re watching him, Toms,” Tubbo said, “if he’s sleeping he’ll be fine, you’ll wake up if he needs you.”
“And if I don’t?” Tommy asked, a bit forcefully.
“Trust me,” Tubbo brushed his bangs out of his face, “you will wake up.”
“It makes me feel better to know that you or Ranboo would be around to watch him if I’d sleep,” Tommy picked at a loose thread on the couch, his wing twitched and Tubbo realized he had completely forgotten about Tommy’s wings. He quickly scooted forward hoping he hadn’t hurt the avian. But Tommy had already shifted, curling his wing slightly around Tubbo.
“Okay,” Tubbo sighed and nodded, “I get that.”
Michael was snoring softly, he snuggled closer against Tubbo’s chest, his nose pressing against the thin tuft of fur against Tubbo’s collarbone.
“I’m gonna go take a nap now that you’re home,” Tommy yawned, stretching his arms above his head, “wake me when Ranboo gets home.”
“Can do,” Tubbo gave him a mock salute, leaning forward again so Tommy could wiggle himself out from sinking into the couch cushions. He half folded his wings, the tips of his feathers brushing against the floor.
Tommy shuffled down the hallway, slinking into his room and shutting the door behind himself. He somehow managed to remember the sharp objects he had left in his nest and moved them to his desk before flopping down on the arrangement of blankets (and clothes). Michael had moved some of the blankets that now Tommy had to spend a few minutes fixing but he didn’t mind.
He draped his wings over the bed, pressing his face into one of the pillows. The wind outside whistled against his windowpane that he did his best to ignore as he tried to drift off to sleep. Something twinged in his back and he shifted, rolling over to his side and folding one of his wings as tightly as he could.
Every time he started to fall asleep, his wing would ache in a new spot and he would have to move again to get comfortable. His nerves had been shot after being revived but the one thing that still came to rear its ugly head was the pinpricks of when his feathers were misaligned.
Sitting up with a huff, Tommy crossed his legs in front of himself. He glared back at his wings, trying to see where the offending feathers were. He curled his wings around himself, his left one drooping and hanging weakly. He tried to reach to tug his feathers into place, his fingers just barely gracing the edge of where he needed.
Tommy grit his teeth. He chirped indignantly and curled his right wing tighter against himself. He was able to shove the first feather into place but at the cost of more coming unaligned. A feather came loose and fluttered to the nest.
His back itched and there was a crick in his wing that he was unable to shake out. He gave up on that wing and turned to the other one, grimacing at the still slightly burnt primaries. He hadn’t molted yet and he was too scared to pluck them in fear they wouldn’t grow back.
It hurt to reach back on that side, bending his wing at an odd angle that it couldn’t bend anymore. His hands shook as he adjusted the feathers he could reach.
Unsatisfied with his job but unwilling to do any more, Tommy flopped back on his stomach. His head was beginning to throb with a growing headache and he wanted nothing more than to curl up and just fall asleep right there. He could hear Tubbo walking around in the living room, his hooves clicking against the floor as he moved.
Tommy squeezed his eyes close, wanting to cry at the itching feeling in his back or the way that every tingle sent sparks of alarm in his chest. How it felt like the poking of hands or a not so gentle tug against his will.
After what seemed like hours, Tommy dragged himself out of his nest. The floor was cold against his bare feet and he shivered, rubbing his eyes and trying to wipe away any tears that dared to show up. He shuffled out into the hallway, listening to see where Tubbo might be.
He figured that the goat hybrid was in the living room by the soft music that was wafting in from the jukebox. He also could assume that Michael was either awake or had been put to bed earlier.
Tommy hesitated by the entrance, he shifted his weight from foot to foot. Tubbo was draped over the couch, his hooves thrown over the armrest and he was messaging on his communicator. The quiet ding from the small box and the music were the only sounds in the room. Tommy could just chicken out, go back to his room and deal with the itch in his wings, no use bothering Tubbo for something so trivial.
But then Tubbo stretched and rolled over, he spotted Tommy standing in the corner of the room and his eyes widened.
“I thought you were taking a nap,” Tubbo said, raising an eyebrow.
“I uh…” Tommy felt his cheeks heat up in a blush, “I… was trying but uh…”
“Aww, couldn’t sleep?” Tubbo asked and while his tone was teasing, Tommy could see the glint of fondness in his eyes.
“My wings uh…” Tommy swallowed thickly, his face flushed darker, he spread his one wing out and hoped that Tubbo understood what he meant.
“Oh…” Tubbo blinked, “do you want me to help you preen?”
Tommy nodded sheepishly, he rubbed at his arm, his calloused fingers scuffing over the various scars.
“Okay! Do you wanna do it here or in your room?” Tubbo asked, he sat up straight, swinging his legs over the edge of the couch, “wherever you’ll be comfortable.”
Tommy just shrugged, “wherever is fine.”
“Hm,” Tubbo pursed his lips, he looked over at Tommy trying to guess what he was thinking, “how about we go to our room?”
Tommy blinked in surprise but he nodded. Tubbo stood up, he took Tommy’s hand as he passed and started to drag the other boy down the hallway towards the bedrooms.
The three of them had their own separate bedrooms for when they needed their space at times, but they also had the shared master bedroom that sometimes all three of them slept in when they needed comfort. Tubbo toed open the door and dragged Tommy inside. Tommy swallowed down embarrassed chirps, it had been years since he had let anyone preen his wings. Longer even since Tubbo has done it.
Tubbo sat behind Tommy as Tommy flopped down on the bed unceremoniously. He curled his fingers around the blankets, running his hands over the soft fur.
“You okay?” Tubbo asked, waiting until Tommy got himself settled. Tommy hummed and spread his right wing.
“Yeah…”
Tubbo nodded to himself and with practiced ease—like it hadn’t been years since he’d done this—he began running his fingers through Tommy’s feathers. He started gently, just running his fingers and patting down the softer feathers that always stuck up near Tommy’s back. Tommy figured he was trying to get him used to the feeling of someone touching his wings.
Tommy appreciated it.
When Tubbo seemed satisfied with that job, he moved on to readjusting the bent feathers and fixing the split barbs. He sat with his legs tucked underneath him, making it easier to reach. Even though Tommy was sitting down, it was still hard for Tubbo to preen his massive wings.
Tommy let his eyes slip closed for a second, relishing in the gentle movements. He swallowed back chirps and clicks that threatened to spill from his mouth. His wings burned from the contact, pinpricks of heat that spread down across his skin and sent shivers down his spine. He swallowed thickly, his cheeks were still colored a flushed red but he was less embarrassed about asking now.
Tubbo was humming softly as he worked, his short nails scratching gently at the skin. Tommy picked at the fur of the blanket he was sitting on, pulling at the strands and letting his head droop. Tubbo shifted from behind him and moved over to reach his secondaries and primaries better.
“Do you want me to…?” The question hung in the air and Tommy flinched, realizing what he was talking about. Tubbo’s hand was buried in his feathers, his fingers tapping lightly near his primaries. The burnt feathers that he still had yet to pluck that he really should but he just couldn’t bear the thought of them not growing back so every time he tried to pluck them he couldn’t breathe and everything felt too small and he was back in that cell—
“Pluck them.” Tommy said, the words spilling out of his mouth, “please.”
“Okay,” Tubbo said softly. He nodded.
Tommy braced himself, his nails digging into his arm as he squeezed his eyes shut. There was only a small prick of pain and then the itchiness started to recede. Tommy sucked in slow breaths through his nose, forcing himself not to think about what Tubbo was doing. Tubbo was gentle, every burnt feather that he plucked he gently rubbed the skin around it, making sure that Tommy was okay after each one.
The scent of pine cones that filled their shared room was the only thing that Tommy could smell. It was nothing like the lava that bubbled or popped when he was in prison or the smell of blood.
Tubbo was gentle. He cared about Tommy. Tommy cared about him.
Tommy let out a small chirp. He licked his lips, new embarrassment blooming across his face. Tubbo smiled to himself.
“They’ll grow back,” Tubbo promised, “you can already see the little bumps.”
“You can?” Tommy asked, letting out a breath he didn’t know that he was holding. He visibly deflated.
“Mhm,” Tubbo massaged the skin, dropping the feathers somewhere in a pile that was gathering on the floor.
“Okay,” Tommy breathed.
Tubbo ran his fingers through Tommy’s feathers one last time, checking for any that he had missed. He asked if anything still hurt on that wing. Nothing did.
The next wing was more of a struggle. Trying to keep it extended and straight for Tubbo to be able to preen was a challenge. It kept drooping or bending despite Tommy’s will.
“Here, lay down so you don’t have to hold it up,” Tubbo said, patting the bed next to him, “then you can just lay it over my lap.”
Tommy hesitated, then he sprawled himself out on the bed next to Tubbo. Tubbo took his wing and gently guided it so that it was draped over his lap. Tubbo rubbed the space on Tommy’s back between his shoulder blades where his wings connected while Tommy tried to get comfortable. He let his other wing drape off the edge of the bed, it was weird not feeling his primary feathers brush against the ground anymore. But Tommy believed Tubbo that they’d grow back.
“Do you want me to pluck the burnt feathers on this wing too?” Tubbo asked before starting, his hand resting on Tommy’s wing.
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
Tubbo went through the same motions as he did the other wing. Running his fingers through the feathers and petting gently to get Tommy used to the feeling again. Tommy grabbed one of the pillows and pressed his face into it.
He started on the feathers closest to Tommy’s back, working his way through the stubborn ones and readjusting the split barbs.
Tommy had all but given up trying to swallow back chirps and hums. They were muffled by the pillow but that didn’t mean Tubbo couldn’t hear them. Tommy fluffed up his feathers in content, humming softly. Tubbo hummed back.
The bed was warm and the hands gently tugging away the painful itch that had been plaguing him since however long was almost enough to lull Tommy to sleep.
Almost. Tommy blinked, refusing to succumb to slumber. He curled his toes, trying to keep himself awake, and picked at the thread on the pillow that he clutched tightly. Tubbo chuckled softly at a particularly loud chirp but didn’t say anything. He patted Tommy’s wing, rubbing the skin whenever he had plucked a feather and dropped the pulled ones into a pile.
“You can sleep, you know,” Tubbo said.
“Not yet,” Tommy muttered sleepily.
“Okay, Toms.”
Despite his best efforts, Tommy was starting to drift off. He rolled over onto his side, pulling Tubbo down to lay next to him. That was good enough to tell that Tubbo was done preening his wings for the night.
Tubbo chuckled as he was pulled close to the tired avian. Tommy buried his hands in Tubbo’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp and rubbing the skin around the base of his horns. Tubbo pressed his face against Tommy’s chest, his ear twitching.
A heavy weight settled over Tubbo’s shoulders as Tommy spread his wings over him.
Maybe he should tell Ranboo that they’re up in the shared bedroom before he goes to sleep so that when he gets home he wouldn’t worry. His communicator weighed heavy in his pockets, the enderman hybrid was probably wondering why Tubbo had suddenly disappeared in the middle of their conversation.
Eh, Ranboo would understand.
Tommy’s hand had stilled in Tubbo’s hair, his breaths coming out in soft pants that brushed against Tubbo’s forehead. Tubbo chuckled quietly to himself. He must've already fallen asleep and Tubbo would be soon to follow.