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"I love you."
It's something about how casual it's said, Wilbur thinks. It makes his heart swell with some sort of emotion that he's too afraid to define. So what if he's scared? He can't even admit it to himself in private, so why would he be able to say it aloud? Even now, he's shocked into silence, or maybe he just wants an excuse to not say anything.
"Was that the wrong thing to say?" Tommy glances away. "Is this... Were we... Did I misread this situation?"
He looks as if he's been placed here from an alternate dimension, but he might as well have. This is as much his Tommy (his sunshine, his wonder, his everything) as much as it isn't. The Tommy he knows disappeared somewhere when he was struck by a car, and now he sees something familiar but not quite correct when he looks at him.
"I saw you, and I just... I know." Tommy frowns. "I don't remember you, but I want to, and I want to understand why my heart flutters when I even so much as think of you, Wilbur."
And yeah, he knows that at the very least. His Tommy did indeed feel those things for him. And he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel something similar for the blonde, but he also would never admit to that. Both of them knew that what they both wanted wasn't going to happen, wasn't going to end well. Even if his desire burns like a forest fire within him, and it threatens to consume him, and it maybe already has... he knew that neither of them would agree to do anything with each other besides playful friendship.
"I know," Wilbur just says simply, but somehow it doesn't seem very simple at all.
This Tommy isn't his, not really, but when he takes Wilbur's hand anyway and presses a kiss to it, he doesn't have the heart to pull away.
Maybe this internally (and eternally) burning flame within him has already wholly and fully consumed Wilbur inside and out. And, well, if that were true, he can't really find it within himself to care.