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Wilbur was trapped.
While, not exactly. He could technically get up, but if he did, he would be committing a horrible sin.
You see, Wilbur was in a bit of a pickle here.
It started when he invited Tommy over to his flat to stay for a few weeks since they both were codependent messes and they'd missed each other way more than either would like to admit while Wilbur was in America.
Tommy had frantically agreed after getting the okay from his parents and immediately started packing his bags before even hanging up the video call, leaving Wilbur to grin dopily at his adorable little brother as he frantically got ready for the older to pick him up tomorrow.
It started as they decided to watch a movie, like they always do, and as they got into their usual banter and routine of Tommy not-so-subtly scooching ever closer to Wilbur while the latter pretended not to notice as his lips twitched into a fond smile.
But apparently Tommy was feeling extra affectionate today, because instead of dancing around the boys obvious need to snuggle into his brothers side, he plopped himself on Wilbur's chest immediately after the man had sprawled out onto the couch.
Wilbur had let out a slightly startled but mostly fond laugh and wrapped protective arms around the boys waist as he ignored the movie playing in the background.
The only problem was, it was getting late and Tommy had long since passed out, body limp on Wilbur's chest, nose nuzzled into his throat and arms wrapped around his neck loosely.
And now he was trapped by the sacred covenant: if something cute and small falls asleep on you, you are obligated to stay until said cute and small thing wakes up and leaves.
Now Tommy not necessarily be small, but compared to Wilbur he was almost tiny.
It made the man melt, the way Tommy fits so perfectly in his arms like he was just meant to be there, how easily he can burrow himself snugly into Wilbur's hold like a small child. He might be a tall kid, but luckily Wilbur was taller, and he would relish in that fact.
Tommy would pretend to be mad about it as though he didn't love the way Wilbur's chin could perfectly rest on his mess of blond curls and drape his lanky arms over the teens shoulders. As if he didn't cherish how safe he felt in the arms of his big brother.
Wilbur never minded the faux-irritation, he knew enough about the kid to know that he was just as elated that he could fit so perfect in the man's arms without a care in the world, knowing Wilbur would hold him and protect him from anything and everything.
That was another thing Wilbur could never understand: the amount of trust this kid had in him. How safe he must feel to doze off in his protective hold, how much he trusted Wilbur that he could let his guard down and be so vulnerable with him.
Wilbur knew he was done for the first day he saw big, blue, tired puppy dog eyes staring sleepily up at him.
He didn't mind all that much.
He sighed fondly and carded a large, calloused hand through soft blond curls and nuzzled his face into them, smiling against the boys hair as it tickled his face.
He kept an arm around Tommy's waist if for no other reason than making sure he didn't fall off, and pressed small kisses to the crown of his head.
Even as he came to the realization that he'd be spending the night he couldn't wipe the wide grin off his face, hiding it in messy blond hair and savoring the sound of every soft little snore escaping the boy. He let his hand fall to the boys pulse point, fingers just brushing it, lingering.
Tommy stirred slightly in his sleep and burrowed further into Wilbur, Wilbur just squeezed him closer, placing a small lingering kiss to his brow. Tommy smiled in his sleep and Wilbur grinned.
This moment was worth the fond teasing he would surely get from Phil and Techno tomorrow.
'Cause right now he had his little brother in his arms, and gods, he felt so small pressed against his chest, he couldn't contain his protectiveness for his boy even if he tried.
Of course it didn't help that be was wearing one of Wilbur's sweaters that absolutely swallowed him whole, Wilbur had grinned at him when he walked out of the guest room wearing it, pleased. It satisfied the little possessive monster in his chest to have Tommy wear something that so clearly marked his claim on the boy. His boy; his little brother.
Maybe Phil and Techno had a point when they called him a 'clingy possessive bastard'.
He only considered it a win that Tommy was the same way, constantly gatekeeping him to spend more time with Wilbur. He was adorable and Wilbur will stand by that.
He adjusted his hold slightly to lay down further, a bit more comfortable, and brushed a hand through his curls again, scratching lightly at his scalp.
He grinned dopily at his kid on his chest and closed his eyes, laying his head on the arm of the couch and falling asleep himself.
People might call Tommy tall, but to Wilbur he was the perfect little brother size.