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Summary
‘ When Tommy perches on the bed, he takes a moment to bend down and unlace his boots. He then toes them off, letting the heavy soles stop dragging him down.
Tommy smiles, a sappy thing that he then pulls into check and morphs into a vixen smirk. No harm, no foul, Wilbur didn’t seem to see it.
In his socks, one of his little toes peeking through the hole (Tommy should really darn it), Wilbur stands and towers over Tommy. He steps over and then the back of his hand caresses Tommy’s face. ‘
-Ever since Wilbur has been revived he both won’t look at Tommy - not in the eyes at least - and won’t kiss him and Tommy’s had enough of Both of these things.
