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Wilbur nearly doubled over in laughter at the joke, clutching his wine as he desperately tried not to spill it all over himself. The party was lively, the music lilting over the sounds of conversation. It was a celebration for Dream, for the grand achievement of growing another year older. The big, fancy parties weren’t always Dream’s favorites, but Wilbur made sure to hire the orchestra that Dream liked best. It was well into the night, after most of the birthday wishes had been given. The wine poured out, little cakes and desserts floating around on trays as waiters dipped around dancers and party-goers.
Wilbur caught sight of a little strawberry cake going by, and touched Dream’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back,” he said to Dream and the small crowd around them. Dream had chosen one of his smaller masks, his expression more on display so his joy could be seen by his guests. Now, though, he directed a strained smile with a “please don’t leave me, you prick” twitch to his ears. Wilbur grinned, then ducked away.
He nearly caught up to his prized strawberry cake when movement caught his eye. Wilbur paused in the crowd, his eyes tracking the movement right as green and black flashed in between the guests, who were now trying to get his attention. Wilbur barely heard them and their questions, their small talk; his eyes were quick to pick out a tall shape–Technoblade–as he dragged Phil out of the main hall. Someone stepped right into his line of sight, commanding his attention, and he lost sight of the two.
“My deepest apologies,” he told the noble as he stepped aside, a sincere smile plastered on his face. “There’s something I need to take care of right now. Excuse me.” Wilbur slipped in between the crowd, at home in navigating through throngs of people. His footsteps were quiet as he ducked out of the party, following Technoblade and Phil. He stopped when he heard voices. His ears pricked, his tail just barely twitching, and his footsteps silent and careful as he tucked himself into an alcove, Wilbur leaned around the corner and took in the scene before him.
Technoblade stood in the hallway with his back to the rest of the party, his broad figure like a shield. He didn’t see Wilbur. He couldn’t; not from this angle. Tension lined Technoblade’s frame, but before Wilbur could finish wondering if he needed to get someone to break them apart, Phil came into view and–oh.
Philza’s mouth parted slightly, his eyes closed. Technoblade’s hands held his face, their touch gentle and careful like he was handling glass. Wilbur picked up quiet words, spoken softly from Technoblade to Philza. Wilbur let the words fall into place in his head as he leaned back against the alcove.
“You don’t need to go back in there,” Technoblade whispered. “You don’t need to go and be available for random people.” Disgust crawled into Wilbur’s stomach at the words, at the way Technoblade said ‘available’ like it was shit he found caught on his boot. Had someone been propositioning Phil? Had someone tried to force him into coming back to their bedroom? He leaned back over to check on the two in the hall. Technoblade had fallen silent and just… held Phil. It was the softest he’d ever seen either of them. Definitely the most relaxed that he’d ever seen Phil.
Phil had said once that Technoblade was never a threat to him, but Wilbur had his doubts. Both he and Dream had their doubts, but after this… After this Wilbur was more willing to be wrong, to let his doubts slide away. As his thoughts swirled around, Phil exhaled, bringing his attention back to the two. Then, as if to solidify this new revelation, Phil leaned up on his toes to press his lips to Technoblade’s cheek. Wilbur ducked back into the alcove, his cheeks the faintest hint of red. Oh. He had his suspicions of their feelings for each other, but this… The pieces fell in place. Their unwillingness to be apart. Their desires to be in the same room. Phil leaving his and Dream’s bedroom in the middle of the night to go back to his own room. With Technoblade. With that one moment, Wilbur felt like he understood their predicament more. Phil murmured something about going back to the party. Wilbur slipped away just as silent as he had arrived.
Wilbur returned to the party, a new mission on his mind. The guards weren’t instructed to keep an eye on Philza and Technoblade; he couldn’t just ask the guards if they saw the person who had been talking to Phil. And he couldn’t go up to either of them and ask. His gaze flicked over to Dream, who seemed to be doing very well on his own. Wilbur lingered on Dream for a while, only to startle when he saw an unfamiliar face step in close to him to strike up a conversation. He turned his attention to the man, his smile bright and cheerful, even if it was painted on.
He didn’t know the man very well; it was a noble who had traveled quite a distance to come and wish the king a happy birthday. Wilbur chatted with him for a while, finding the conversation somewhat engaging. Just past the line of regular and boring noble chats. But then the man’s gaze drifted over Wilbur’s shoulder. Wilbur was very good at picking up facial cues, picking up on the thoughts hidden behind eyes and painted, plastered smiles. And in this man’s eyes, he saw desire. Lust.
Dread pooled like tar in his stomach as his gaze followed the man’s line of sight. To Phil. The man’s tongue darted out to wet his lips as he outright stared at Phil.
And the pieces fell into place.
This was the man who had made Phil uncomfortable. This was the man who Technoblade had taken Phil away from. This man, who thought he could just. Stare. At someone who was clearly very uncomfortable with the attention.
Immediately, Wilbur did not want this man here anymore.
His hand darted out to the side just as a waiter carried glasses of wine to the party-goers. His fingers curled around the stem of a glass, bringing it close to him as if he were considering the quality of it. The man turned back to him, his filthy shit-stain of a mouth opening to say more meaningless bullshit. Wilbur’s gaze flicked down to him, his lip twitching in disgust at the shit caught on his boot, and he turned the glass upside down on the man’s head.
The man spluttered in shock, dark red wine staining his fancy, white dress coat. Wilbur stared down at him, his disgust now plain and clear on his face. He set the empty glass on the tray, thanked the waiter, then turned back to the man.
“Get out,” he said. The noble’s expression contorted into anger, his voice rising above the crowd. Wilbur felt every single eye turn to him, but he didn’t care. “Your behavior here tonight has been unacceptable. You are no longer welcome in these halls.” He leaned into the noble’s space, all but snarling into the man’s face. “Get. Out. Or I will have the guards remove you.”
With that settled, and the guards converging in on the man around Wilbur, he turned on his heel and strode through the crowd. He returned to Dream’s side, grabbing a strawberry cake on his way back. Dream thanked the people who were talking to him, then dismissed them. The party around them gradually shifted back into the happy party atmosphere, ignoring the very public shaming of the noble.
“What the fuck happened?” Dream hissed as Wilbur’s teeth sank into the cake. He held up a finger to Dream, pointed at his very full mouth. Dream huffed and leaned back, waiting for Wilbur to swallow.
“That fucker tried coming on to Phil,” he said. “I don’t know what he said, but Technoblade had to pull Phil aside and calm him down.” Dream’s face darkened in anger. Wilbur gave a quick nod of agreement.
“I’ll let the guards know,” he added, then glanced back at Wilbur. “There’s more, isn’t there?”
Wilbur nodded. “I don’t think we need to keep worrying about if Technoblade’s going to hurt Phil. They’re a pair.”
“Like us?” Dream asked after a moment of silence.
“Like us.”