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“Willlllllll can I have the hammock now?”
Wilbur lowered the book in his hands, not surprised to see the little blue-eyed gremlin of a brother, peeking up from the edge of the hammock. He scoffed, annoyance prickling up his neck as he pulled the book back up.
“You’ve had the thing all day yesterday, Tommy.”
Tommy pursed his lips in persistence. “But I want it back.”
“It’s my hammock. If you want one so badly, go buy one yourself.”
“I would if I had money.”
“You’re a flying millionaire!” Wilbur shouted, slapping his book against his side. What made this child have the sheer audacity to even act like he could waltz in and take a hammock from someone? “You can definitely afford one!”
“Yeah,” Tommy smirked as he began to lean over, his weight pulling down his side of the hammock. Wilbur considered ruffling the child’s hair, but it would only make him look weak. “But it won’t come fast enough to satisfy me. I want to lay in a hammock and I want it now.”
The brunet sighed and picked his book back up for the second time, flipping through the pages to his chapter. “Fine, fine. Five more minutes if you’ll keep quiet after that.”
But right as Wilbur was about to find his spot, he felt the hammock sink down on his right. He yelped as he felt a sudden movement, an entire body now suddenly tumbling over him and a mess of blond curls tickling his chin as the hammock swung from side-to-side. The hammock curled around the two with gravity, rolling Tommy close to Wilbur until he was practically stuck into position, right on top of Wilbur’s right arm.
“You flying rathead!” Wilbur swore to the top of his lungs. “You couldn’t be patient for half a second!”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Tommy admitted smugly, resting his legs in a criss-cross position on top of Wilbur’s. The boy tilted his head to lay on Wilbur’s shoulder, engulfing Wilbur’s face more and more with his fluffy curls.
Oh. He- he just wanted a cuddle.
“Just read something aloud to me.”
Wilbur immediately softened, the clingy side of him screaming to give this child all the cuddles he deserved. He sighed with a roll of his eyes, shutting the book and throwing it out to the distance. Tommy didn’t seem to be paying attention. The boy was peacefully half asleep, unconsciously humming Perfume under his breath.
It was almost too cute to bear. What right did the boy have to appear like a little golden retriever puppy? With the unbearable urge to hold his little brother, Wilbur reached over and yanked the boy closer to him, arms enveloped in a crushing embrace. Tommy squeaked in surprise, and hissed playfully as he tried to squirm away.
“Wil!” he giggled, a bubbly and light sound that never failed to make Wilbur’s heart soar. “I told you that you have to warn me before doing that!”
“Not my fault you look so adorable.”
“Not my fault you’re so platonically head over heels in love with me.”
Now that, that got Wilbur’s attention. The way the child was so confident in the fact that he loved him, and not just an average sort of love, but a love that was so strong that, yes, Wilbur was in love. No, those words didn’t have to apply just to romantic love. It applied to any love, including brotherly. The only requirement for saying that you were in love is that if you were truly, wholly consumed by that person. The kind of love that seemed to throw you off-course at times, and the kind that made you eventually give in to anything the other person wanted- which in this case, was a hammock (or, as Tommy didn’t admit, a cuddle).
“Wilby?”
And there it was, the two-syllable word that never failed to throw Wilbur into a hopeless lovesick daze.
“Tommy, it’s true. I do love yo-”
He felt a blow at his ankle.
“Ow!”
“Shut up,” Tommy whined, pressing his cheek against Wilbur’s, red and hot with embarrassment. “You’re being soft again- it’s gross.”
“You started it,” Wilbur argued, wriggling his forearm free to run his fingers through Tommy’s soft marigold hair.
That’s when Wilbur knew he won. With the action, Tommy began to purr as his eyes fluttered shut, his head sinking down under Wilbur’s chin. A coo escaped from Wilbur, the light vibrations of Tommy’s purr growing louder.
“Tommy?”
“Shut up..” he repeated sleepily through the purrs, curling his arms lazily around the brunet. “I’m tired. Just be quiet..”
“Awee Tommy~ you feel sleepy?”
“Mhm..” Tommy hummed subconsciously. “I feel safe. S’nice.”
“Happy now?” Wilbur added with a raised eyebrow, more like a question than a sarcastic statement. Now that you finally got your hammock.. and your cuddles? Are you happy? Are you happy… with me?
“Mm..” Tommy answered a final time before drifting into a deep sleep.
Oh Tommy. You’re gonna give me a heart attack someday with how you make my heart squeeze.
But Wilbur didn’t say that aloud. He didn’t want to wake the boy.
So instead, Wilbur pressed a kiss to the boy’s head, warm with the smell of cotton, before falling contently into a dream of his own.
“Love you too, Toms.”
—----
When Wilbur woke up a few hours later, he felt a light pressure on his cheek.
He eventually realized it was Tommy, who attempted to kiss his older brother on the cheek in his sleep.
Wilbur fished out his phone from his pocket, taking a quick selfie before shutting his eyes again.
Moments come, moments go.
…But memories like these stay forever.