Chapter Text
“Sam,” Tommy groaned, “why do you continue to ruin my life like this?”
A huff of laughter escaped the other man. “And by ‘this’ you mean?”
“Putting me in homes with other children,” He turned to face Sam as much as he could in the car. “I have such massive only child energy; the others get jealous and try to murder me.”
Sam gave him a look that said, ‘you’re an orphan with no remaining family, of course you have only child energy’, which Tommy just stuck his tongue out to.
“They’re both adopted and have been living there for a few years now,” Parking on the road outside a driveway, Sam tried to continue his description of Tommy’s new ‘home’.
Tommy interrupted him, not giving a shit about what kind of hell hole he would be walking into – hell was hell, after all, didn’t matter the flavour. “Why can’t you just take me in again? I like you, you let me do what I want.”
“I can’t take you in Tommy,” Sam said for what was probably the thousandth time.
“Right,” Tommy started, pushing down a laugh he knew would come out as bitter, “because why would a social worker give a kid a good life, how stupid of me.”
He opened the car door and got out, and though he told himself it was anger that shook his hands, he knew differently.
The thing was, he knew Sam had his little rules about not becoming attached to the children he worked with, but no one had warned Tommy about getting attached to his social worker.
What did they think would happen when they gave him an adult that pretended to care about him? Of course, he latched on the moment he could, he was just that fucking stupid.
He wanted to keep the argument going, but one look at Sam’s tired, sad expression made him forget all about it. It was better this way, Tommy knew that.
Sometimes he just wanted a family.
Plastering a grin on his face, he brushed past Sam and started walking up to the house, switching his bag to his other hand.
“Come on Sam,” Tommy called over his shoulder, fake cheer filling his voice, “I’ve got lives to ruin.”
“Tommy,” Sam breathed out heavily, catching up to him.
He rolled his eyes. “I don’t mean on purpose, honestly Sam, have a little faith.”
Sam frowned in the way that he did when he was pretending he was a therapist. “If you’re going on about that cursed alone thing again – “
“Chill out,” They arrived at the front door and Tommy gestured for Sam to knock, nerves making him roll back and forward on the balls of his feet.
This bit was always the worst – the getting-to-know of the family and whatever rules they had. Tommy was a social person, he didn’t feel like himself if he wasn’t talking to someone, but he still struggled with the first meeting.
Sam knocked and Tommy forced himself to stand still, exhaling deeply to expel his nerves. He could never be still for too long though, seconds later he was wringing his hands behind his back and bobbing his head along to the rhythm of some song that had been playing in Sam’s car.
The door opened and Tommy forced himself still again, no matter how temporary that would be.
“Hello,” Sam greeted, “I’m Sam and this is – “
“Tommy!” The man said enthusiastically. “It’s good to meet you, come in, come in. It’s cold today, isn’t it? I could’ve sworn the forecast said high temperatures, but Wilbur does always say that they’re as good as guessing nowadays.”
Tommy blinked at the barrage of words, not used to being on the other end of a ramble. He studied the man who had opened the door – dark blonde hair, blue eyes, a kind smile, not one of those practised ones a lot of the social workers had.
If he didn’t know any better, he’d say the guy was nervous. Surely Tommy’s file wasn’t that bad? And even if it was, why would the guy still choose to foster him if he was so worried about Tommy causing trouble?
“Phil, right?” Sam asked once they were all sitting down around the kitchen table, Tommy’s bag placed by his feet. The chair had made this horrible noise when he’d pulled it out, but the man had just muttered something about needing to sort it out instead of getting mad like he’d half-expected.
It was always the nice ones that hurt you the most but somehow Tommy still fell for it every time.
Newly named Phil rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, that’s me. Sorry. Can I get you a cup of tea? Coffee?”
For someone that had supposedly done this twice before, Phil was acting strangely like a first-time foster carer.
Still feeling bad about making Sam upset earlier, Tommy decided to take the initiative. “Tea, please. Sam said you have other kids?”
The way his face lit up might have been endearing if it wasn’t for the dread it sent down Tommy’s spine. “Techno and Wilbur, they’re all grown up now, but they live at home. Techno got into Oxford but decided to go to the local university and Wilbur is focusing on making music with his band.”
So, they were at least two years older than him, adults themselves. That had its benefits, it meant they were less likely to be pissed at him for taking up space in their home.
It also meant they were bigger, taller, stronger.
Panic made Tommy shrink into himself, and he gave Sam one last pleading look, desperate to not be here.
But Sam was very steadily avoiding his gaze, studying Phil’s fridge of all things.
It made him angry, but that anger quickly changed to overwhelming anxiety, and all Tommy knew was that he needed to get out of the kitchen before he made an infamously bad impression on Phil.
Fuck, Sam would probably just think he was doing it for attention.
“Toilet?” Tommy asked Phil, distracting the man from where he was pulling mugs out of the cupboard.
Phil grinned, but Tommy couldn’t be bothered to interpret what that one might mean, head full of ‘get out get out get out’. “Down the hall, first door on your right.”
“Thanks,” Tommy muttered, practically racing out of the kitchen and only looking back once to see that Sam still had both eyes on that stupid fridge.
The moment the bathroom door locked behind him, Tommy sank against it, resting his head between his knees and trying to calm his breathing.
Luckily it seemed he’d caught the panic attack before it could start; it took maybe a couple of minutes before he felt calm enough to lean back against the door, his head making contact with a quiet thunk.
Tears were dripping down his cheeks and Tommy wiped at them furiously. He’d gotten a little upset because what, he’d had a little bit of a bad experience with one foster sibling? It wasn’t like he hadn’t gone through worse, so why was he being such a baby about it now?
He hadn’t had panic attacks before - before that bastard had done what he’d done.
Standing up, he stumbled a little as braced himself on the sink, turning the tap on to splash his face with cold water.
Thankfully it had always been near impossible to tell when he cried, or when he hadn’t slept for three days, so he flushed the toilet and left the bathroom, content that no one would know what he’d spent the past five minutes doing.
Sam was the only one who’d be able to tell, but when Tommy entered the kitchen, he was still studiously avoiding meeting Tommy’s eyes. Coward.
Phil seemed much calmer than he had earlier, cradling a cup of tea between his hands and sipping quietly. When he noticed Tommy, he put his mug down and held out another to Tommy.
“Thank you,” Tommy said tiredly, the warmth of the tea just making him long for a good sleep.
“No problem,” Phil gave him a soft smile, but his eyes were almost piercing into Tommy. “How about I show you the house? The boys are out getting groceries right now, but I’m sure you can meet them later if you’d like.”
“Sounds good,” He didn’t dare disagree, not when Phil had already shown just how much he loved his sons.
Tommy forced himself to keep his questions to himself as he was shown around the house, tea in hand – he didn’t yet know what kind of person Phil was like without Sam there to keep him in line, for all Tommy knew, he’d already massively fucked up and was going to be punished the second Sam was far enough away to not hear him scream.
Well, maybe that was a little pessimistic. But there was no saying that that wouldn’t happen, so to be on the safe side, Tommy stayed silent, only making the appropriate humming agreements when Phil looked at him.
He was shown the room that he would be staying in and blew out a silent breath when he realised it meant he wasn’t going to be sharing with one of Phil’s children. He didn’t look at the contents of it much, just taking in the single bed and nodding when Phil asked if it was okay, leaving his bag behind the door.
Following Phil back down to the kitchen so he could give Sam the official all-clear, Tommy’s eyes caught a framed picture he’d missed when he’d gone upstairs.
It was of Phil and, presumably, his two children. One had bright pink hair and the other dark brown, but what drew Tommy’s eyes was how intimidating one of them looked, the small smile doing nothing to hide his bulky figure.
Tommy swallowed uncomfortably and forced his mind away, not wanting to have another panic attack.
Sam looked up when they entered the room, meeting Tommy’s gaze for a split second before he turned his attention to Phil.
It wouldn’t bother him, except Sam had seen him when he’d been in the hospital. Fuck, Sam had been his only visitor all those months ago, tears in his eyes and begging Tommy to forgive him for putting him in that home.
Tommy had smiled and said it was fine back then and Sam had seemed satisfied like all his guilt had just drained away just because Tommy said so.
Except, Tommy hadn’t forgiven him, not really, because it was Sam that had ignored his desperate texts for a new family, and it was Sam that was now pretending none of that had ever happened.
“Do you mind if I have a moment alone with Tommy?” Sam asked though it wasn’t really a question.
Phil smiled. “Sure thing, I’ll make myself scarce.”
He left the kitchen with a wave, which Tommy thought was stupid.
“Is everything good?” Sam asked, forgoing the official questions he was supposed to ask.
Then again, it got kind of tiring after a while. “It’s fine.”
If he weren’t feeling bitter, he might talk about how he had his own room, and how he hoped they didn’t use scented detergent, because he truly detested some of them.
Tension radiated from Sam and Tommy was astonished to realise he was angry. “Don’t fuck this one up, okay?”
Tommy could barely believe he’d dared to say those fucking words. “What?”
“Phil’s one of the good ones, the only reason this will go wrong is if you mess it up and I know what you’re like,” Sam was speaking through gritted teeth. “I don’t want to get another call that you’re in the hospital.”
He was seething and the rage made the words he wanted to say blur into a mess, indignation and shame and everything twisting them up into an unrecognisable mess.
He took back every word he’d ever said about wanting to live with Sam, apparently, he was an arsehole. Tommy didn’t care if he’d had a bad day or was feeling guilty about shit he should feel guilty for, he wasn’t allowed to just – to just, say stuff like that.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Tommy shouted, because it was either shout or cry at this point, and he wasn’t about to give Sam the satisfaction of seeing him cry. “After, after everything, you’re saying it’s my fault?”
It was almost natural for Sam to raise his voice in response. “The only common factor in all of those homes is you, Tommy, it’s hard to think otherwise!”
Abrupt silence hung in the space after Sam’s words and Tommy had never felt colder.
“Get out,” Tommy whispered hoarsely, wanting to turn around and hide his face but not wanting to take his eyes off Sam.
“Tommy, I – “
There was regret in his voice, but Tommy didn’t care for it. “Get out. That’s what you want to do, isn’t it? You want to go home to your dog and forget all about me and that’s fine, so fucking leave.”
Finally, finally, Sam had reached his breaking point with Tommy. Tommy couldn’t blame him, not really, everyone gave up on him eventually.
He watched Sam warily as he stood and left the kitchen, not even trying to argue with Tommy.
Tommy wished he would. Wished that just once someone would fight to keep him.
But Sam left without a word, so Tommy sunk into one of the kitchen chairs with his head in his hands and tried to put himself back together after being torn apart again.
A soft tap on the door frame interrupted him. “You alright mate? I thought I heard shouting.”
No doubt Phil had heard every word that had been said.
Tommy stood and leaned against the kitchen counter. “Just Sam being a bitch.”
He winced when he realised he’d sworn. Fuck.
Phil just laughed. “Yeah, I bet. I was thinking of doing takeaway for dinner tonight, to celebrate you being here. Is that okay or is it too much too soon?”
“Takeaway?” Tommy asked, instead of making a decision and inevitably making the wrong one.
“Yeah,” Phil nodded, and his hair flopped a little at the action, “Chinese or pizza or something, your choice.”
Despite how fantastic it sounded; Tommy still wasn’t sure it wasn’t a trick question.
If he said yes, would he be accused of trying to take advantage of Phil’s generosity? But if he said no, would he be accused of being ungrateful?
Man, new homes were the worst.
“A takeaway would be great,” Biting his lip, Tommy decided it was time to figure out what kind of person Phil was. “I haven’t had pizza in ages.”
Phil gave him a big smile. “Will’s going to love you, he’s been asking for pizza for days.”
That made the chaotic part of Tommy want to ask for something else, but he controlled himself – he’d be fucked if this ‘Will’ guy was the bulky one from the photo.
Reminded of the other two children, Tommy felt his shoulders slump. “What are the rules?”
“Oh, right.” Phil scratched the back of his neck. “We don’t have many rules per se, just a few guidelines to keep everyone happy.”
Tommy nodded his understanding, he’d been told that before, then kicked out after breaking a ‘guideline’ by accident.
“No alcohol in the house, for one,” He started ticking them off on his fingers. “Please knock before going into someone’s bedroom, I don’t mind so much, but Will and Techno like their privacy and they’ll do the same to you.”
Those were easy enough; Tommy hated the smell of alcohol and he doubted he’d be going into the other’s rooms anyway. He was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Phil tilted his head. “I think that’s pretty much it. We all try to help out with chores, but generally, if you make a mess, you clean it up, although I do everyone’s laundry and Techno likes to do the gardening.”
Tommy nodded again. “Got it.”
All the signs were pointing to Phil being a good person, but Tommy knew it was just a matter of time before the façade crumbled.
The sound of a car pulling in made Phil perk up. “That’s them. You can either help bring the groceries in and meet the boys or you can go to your room, I don’t mind.”
Tommy called bullshit. “May as well help out.”
Phil beamed at him. “Let’s go, they’ve been excited to meet you.”
Excited was not the word Tommy would use to describe the teenagers taking bags out of the car. The moment they saw him, they fell silent, looked at Phil, looked back at him and then awkwardly elbowed each other.
The whole interaction made Tommy want to facepalm.
Instead, he forced a grin on his face as he walked over and decided to try and get on their good sides. “Hi, I’m Tommy.”
“I’m Wilbur, this idiot is Techno.” The taller of the two introduced. “It’s nice to meet you, Tommy.”
Finally close enough, Tommy inspected the two of them.
Wilbur was taller than Tommy but didn’t seem to be especially strong, though Tommy was well aware of how deceiving appearances could be.
Techno though, there was something familiar about him; he was Tommy’s height, though much bigger and had the same pink hair from the photo.
“Have we met?” Tommy asked, only belatedly realising how rude he was acting.
Sharp eyes studied him. “Not that I’m aware of.”
The voice was gruff but there was no aggression yet, which was all Tommy could ask for. “My mistake then.”
Phil clapped his hands, startling Tommy into taking a few steps away from the man, having forgotten he was there. “Come on then, let’s get these into the house before the ice cream melts.”
“What ice cream?” Wilbur asked innocently. “You didn’t put ice cream on the list.”
“If I know you two then there’s ice cream.” He didn’t sound angry, but Tommy still tensed anyway, taking another small step away from the man.
“Stupid dad powers,” Wilbur grumbled, handing Tommy a couple of bags from the car. “Just put these on the kitchen counter, Tommy, we’ll unpack once everything’s inside.”
Tommy nodded and started to walk back into the house, settling the bags gently onto the counter and clenching his eyes shut.
He needed to get it together. Just because he was having a shitty day, that didn’t mean that he had the time to be having fucking panic attacks non-stop just because of a couple of loud noises.
“You’re in the way,” Came a gruff voice from behind him, making Tommy’s eyes fly open as he spun around.
Tommy’s heart was racing. “What?”
Techno held up the four bags he was holding in one hand and gestured for Tommy to move, which he did, scampering away from the kitchen counter.
Something clicked in his brain as he watched Techno put the bags down, something about the fluid grace despite his build so familiar until everything rushed into place.
Fuck, how stupid was Tommy? How many Technos were there? Why hadn’t he made the connection before?
“I’m so glad you decided to come to watch my big fight, Tommy.” The plastic smile mocked Tommy – they both knew he hadn’t had much of a choice about the whole thing.
Still, he gritted his teeth and smiled. “Of course, I wouldn’t want to miss it.”
Loud ringing signalled that it was time for the fight to start, and Tommy waved goodbye and called out good luck as he was left alone at the top of the stands to watch.
It was enthralling watching the two masked men fight, like they were dancing together, fully in sync.
Until suddenly, the music stuttered, and one man was pinned under the other, green hoodie bright against the dark concrete floor.
It was the only fight he’d ever lost, and Tommy felt dread curl in his heart, knowing he’d be the one to pay the price.
Fuck. Techno had won that fight. Techno had won the fight against the strongest person Tommy knew.
His eyes darted from Techno to the doors leading out of the kitchen, one that would take him outside and another that would take him further into the house. Everything in him was screaming at him to run, to get out before Techno had the chance to hurt him, to kill him.
And fuck, this meant Techno knew Dream, even if they’d only fought against each other, that was a connection Tommy could not deal with.
Wilbur entered the kitchen, Phil just behind him, and Tommy panicked, seeing one of his exits cut off by the two older men. Walking backwards, Tommy took the other exit, eyes flicking between each of them and racing up the stairs when he got the chance, almost running to his room and shutting the door behind him, leaning against it to stop anyone from coming in.
Closing his eyes, he tried to gather his thoughts.
So, Techno was a fighter, and a good one, since he’d beaten Dream.
But, Tommy thought, mind racing, Techno and Dream hadn’t been fighting one of the regular fights organised by the centre, they’d had an argument, something big, and had organised the fight themselves to settle it.
Which meant that Techno didn’t like Dream, which was good, because that meant the chances of Dream popping by for a visit were low.
And, when Tommy had been in his way earlier, Techno hadn’t pushed him away, which meant that the little things Tommy did weren’t going to get him beaten half to death, hopefully.
In the end, it all added up to Tommy severely overreacting in the kitchen.
He looked at the bed with longing, wishing he could have a nap but knowing that unless he wanted them to think he was weird already, he had to go back downstairs and fix whatever impression he’d given.
Briefly, he thought about trying to call Sam to let him know, but he quickly dashed that thought away. Sam didn’t want to deal with Tommy anymore? Fine. Tommy would never message him again. No more funny memes, no more life updates, no more jokes.
No more pleas for help.
Tommy took a deep breath and left the room. He’d be fine on his own, he had to be.
“What happened?” Phil asked Techno, not a hint of accusation in his voice.
Frustrated, Techno ran a hand through his hair. “I think I scared him? I couldn’t get to the counter, so I asked him to move and he did, but then he was just kind of frozen until you guys came in and he ran away.”
“Aw man,” Wilbur whined, jumping up onto the counter instead of helping Phil unpack the bags, “I thought he seemed well adjusted for a kid in foster care, I knew it was too good to be true.”
“Wilbur,” Phil scolded lightly. “I think he’s just had a long day. When he was talking to his social worker, I…”
He cut himself off, not wanting to assume things.
Techno and Wilbur exchanged a look before Wilbur spoke, poking Phil in the arm. “Come on Dad, you have to tell us so we can be the best older brothers ever.”
The two of them had been adorably excited about having a little brother to fuss over and protect, not that they’d admitted to such a thing. Still, Phil had been able to tell.
Putting the ice cream in the freezer, Phil made a decision. “They got into a shouting match, I tried not to listen, but well, I was only in the next room.”
Impatient, Wilbur gestured for Phil to elaborate. “About?”
“The social worker, Sam, said some horrible things,” Phil frowned, remembering how angry it had made him to hear the person who was supposed to look out for Tommy being so cruel.
Techno stood up to his full height, fists clenched by his sides. “Do we need to say something to someone?”
He and Wilbur had had their own share of shitty social workers.
“If it doesn’t work out for Tommy here then definitely,” Phil almost smiled at the matching disappointed looks his sons got at the idea of Tommy leaving. “But I think ultimately it should be up to Tommy, I’ll talk to him about it once he feels more comfortable here.”
Hesitance tinged Wilbur’s next words. “What kind of things did the guy say?”
Muttering thanks as Techno handed him things to go in the fridge, Phil tried to decide how much would be suitable to share. “I think the main thing was blaming Tommy for needing a new foster family.”
“But that’s bullshit!” Wilbur whisper yelled, hands waving through the air to emphasise his point. “Didn’t his file say he ended up in the hospital? In what world is that his fault?”
The file hadn’t specified why Tommy had been in the hospital, or why he’d left his previous placement, but none of them were stupid, they could connect the dots.
“I don’t agree with Sam,” Phil reminded Wilbur gently, “but I think it’s best to avoid asking questions about it, for now.”
Techno nodded stiffly, crossing his arms only to uncross them a second later. “Should I go and apologise to him?”
Tilting his head, Phil shut the fridge door and gave Techno his full attention. “What would you be apologising for?”
“For scaring him?” Techno offered, unsure.
“Probably best to not let him know we know he freaked out,” Wilbur said, jumping off the counter to wrap an arm around Techno’s shoulder. “He’ll soon realise how much of a softy you are.”
Techno looked to Phil for confirmation, so Phil nodded. “It’s fine mate, I’ll go up in a bit and check on him.”
Both Techno and Wilbur froze, heads tilting as they listened for something. “No need, he’s coming downstairs.”
They’d always been better at hearing the movements of people in the house than Phil was, he just wished it was for a better reason.
The three of them were still standing in the kitchen when Tommy went downstairs, so, as casually as he could, he joined them, smile firmly in place.
He stood on the other side of the kitchen table, near the sink, which just so happened to be on the opposite corner from Techno and tried to find something to say.
“Hi mate,” Phil greeted, saving him. “I was just about to tell these two about what you decided for dinner.”
Tommy relaxed minutely when Phil didn’t bring up how he’d rushed out of the kitchen. “Didn’t you say Wilbur was going to hate it?”
Luckily Phil caught on to the half-hearted attempt at a joke. “Oh yeah, pretty sure it’s his least favourite kind of food.”
“You picked Indian food, out of all food?” Wilbur whined, making a face. “What kind of heathen are you?”
So, Wilbur hated Indian food, good to know.
Unable to hold back his amusement, Tommy laughed into his hand, trying to quieten his loud laughter.
Techno spoke up. “Will, they’re fucking with you.”
Tommy looked at Phil to see his reaction to the swearing, but just like earlier, he seemed to have none, just laughing at Wilbur’s affronted look.
“Tommy picked pizza.” Phil gave in, clearly pitying Wilbur.
Wilbur gasped and looked at Tommy, holding a hand to his heart. “Really?”
Beyond nervous, Tommy just nodded.
“Fuck yes!” Wilbur cheered, elbowing Techno in excitement. “That’s it, you’re my new favourite.”
“Oh sure,” Techno said, sarcasm coating his every word, “just abandon your twin for a slice of pizza, makes complete sense.”
Biting his lip, Tommy realised what a huge mistake it had been to offend Techno, fuck, what had he been thinking?
Sniffing haughtily, Wilbur took a few steps away from Techno, joining Tommy on the other side of the table. “Tommy’s never cut my hair in the middle of the night because he wanted to see how fast it would burn.”
Well, that was terrifying.
Techno rolled his eyes, but there was a smile playing at the corner of his mouth and Tommy relaxed again. “You should be grateful I decided to cut it off first.”
Tommy stayed carefully still as Wilbur threw an arm around his shoulders, fighting every instinct to tense up – he had never liked it when Tommy acted like his friendliness was anything other than just that, friendliness.
Wilbur scoffed. “Maybe I’d be grateful if you didn’t leave me with a bald spot for three months.”
“Well maybe you should have grown your hair quicker,” Techno was full-on grinning now.
“I’m Techno,” The high-pitched mocking was irritating right next to Tommy’s ear, especially after being so high-strung all day, “and I think I’m better than everyone because I can grow out my hair at an inhuman speed.”
He was grateful when Phil interrupted. “Boys, come on, let’s go sit and order dinner.”
Tommy manoeuvred under Wilbur’s arm and trailed behind Phil, glancing back to see where Techno was and relaxing when he saw him walking with Wilbur a few feet away.
Not that that meant much, he’d seen how fast Techno could move.
When they entered the living room he stepped back and let everyone else sit down first, watching as Wilbur threw himself on the bean bag and Techno took the armchair, leaving Phil to sit on the couch. After considering his options, which were really either the floor or the couch, Tommy took a seat on the end of the same couch as Phil.
“So,” Phil started, reaching for a laptop on the coffee table and typing in the password, “Pizza Hut?”
Stretching his legs out, Wilbur made a face at Phil. “Duh.”
“I think Dad was asking Tommy,” Techno said, crossing his legs on the armchair and throwing a cushion at Wilbur.
“Pizza Hut is fine,” Tommy offered when Phil looked at him in question. He hadn’t exactly eaten from enough pizza places to form an opinion.
Smiling, Phil nodded and clapped his hands together. “Okay, so what does everyone want?”
Techno and Wilbur rattled off their orders and Tommy desperately tried to pay attention to how much they were ordering, but it all seemed to blur together and by the time Phil was asking Tommy what he wanted, he still hadn’t figured anything out.
“Anything you want mate, we’re celebrating,” Phil tried to reassure, but Tommy knew how much of a trick it could be.
“Pepperoni please,” Tommy said quietly, glancing nervously between the three of them to see their reactions.
“Got it,” Phil said, clicking away on the laptop, “size?”
He said it casually, but Tommy wasn’t fooled. “Small.”
Looking up from the screen, Phil frowned at him. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to still be hungry after.”
“Small is enough.” Tommy insisted, and it was true, he’d been eating less and less recently.
“Okay,” Phil said, though doubt still tinged his voice. “What sides do people want?”
“All of them,” Wilbur declared loudly, and Tommy waited nervously for Phil to get pissed off about it.
Techno snorted. “You’re so lucky you grow up instead of outward.”
Grinning at Techno, Wilbur threw the cushion back, missing by about two feet and almost hitting Tommy instead, who flinched away from it. “I got the better genes.”
“How about,” Phil interrupted, “two sides each. Anything you don’t eat tonight can be eaten tomorrow.”
“If you insist,” Wilbur said, though there was a satisfied grin on his face as though he’d gotten exactly what he wanted.
Seeing the same look, Phil sighed. “One day I won’t fall for your schemes.”
“Unlikely,” Techno commented, wearing his own grin.
Smiling ruefully, Phil shook his head. “What sides do you want, Tech?”
“Just wings please,” Techno said, throwing Wilbur a look. “We can’t all eat as much as Wilbur and not pay the price.”
Tommy realised he probably had to watch his weight for his fights.
“Wings and chicken strips for me,” Wilbur said, sticking his middle finger up at Techno.
“Got it,” Phil nodded, pausing to stretch his arms behind his back. “Tommy?”
Smiling awkwardly, Tommy wrung his hands together. “None for me, thanks.”
“Tommy, dude, buddy,” Wilbur said, sitting forward to try and catch Tommy’s eye, “the wings are the best part of the experience. If you don’t have wings, what’s even the point?”
Uncertainty made him freeze in place. Did he risk making Phil angry by asking for wings, or did he risk making Wilbur angry by not asking for wings?
“How about,” Phil started, voice quiet and soothing to Tommy’s oversensitive hearing, “I order wings so you can try them and if you don’t like them, I’m sure they’ll mysteriously disappear overnight.”
He gave Wilbur a look, but Wilbur just shrugged, unashamed.
What the fuck even was this family?
“Sounds good,” Tommy said with a forced grin, fighting the urge to bring his legs up onto the chair.
Just because Techno had his feet on the chair that didn’t mean Tommy was allowed, he’d seen the difference in rules for adopted kids before.
They went through deserts and drinks without any more awkwardness, Tommy getting away with not asking for anything and Wilbur getting away with ordering two cookies ‘just in case’. Tommy wasn’t sure what it was ‘in case’ of, but he was kind of impressed anyway, even if it didn’t bode well for him in the future if he ever got into an argument with Wilbur and had to convince Phil not to punish Tommy.
“Okay,” Phil yawned, closing the lid of his laptop and placing it back on the table, “food should be here in about forty minutes.”
Forty minutes. Forty minutes of sitting stiffly on the couch and trying not to say something that would offend anyone. Easy.
“Tommy, important question,” Clapping his hands together, Wilbur forced himself up off the beanbag and sat down in between Phil and Techno.
Tommy braced himself. “Yeah?”
Would he ask why Tommy had changed homes? Or ask why Tommy was in foster care? Or why he was daring to insert himself into their perfect little family?
“Anteaters,” Wilbur leaned forward, so Tommy leaned back a little, the arm of the chair digging into his back, “what do you think of them?”
Tommy made a face instinctively, ignoring the joint groaning from Techno and Phil, imagining the fur-covered animals. “Disgusting.”
He froze after he spoke, having not thought a moment before speaking.
He was surprised when Wilbur grinned, bouncing in place. “Yes! Yes! You are the only right person in this room!”
“You made him say that,” Techno said to Wilbur, disbelief radiating from him in waves. “How did you make him say that?”
“Not this again,” Phil groaned.
Tommy looked between the three of them. “What’s going on?”
“What’s going on,” Wilbur drew out, “is that these idiots think that the existence of anteaters is acceptable.”
Gesturing wildly, Tommy leaned forward, away from the arm of the chair and into Wilbur’s space. “But they – “
He cut himself off, realising too late how annoyed Phil and Techno seemed, and realising that what he was about to say was definitely classed as abnormal and not very ‘nice, quiet, calm teenager’.
“No please, go ahead, convert them,” Wilbur insisted.
“They’re just evil,” Tommy said instead of what he’d been going to say. “They think about the tragedies of history and smile.”
Beside Wilbur, Phil made a strange noise, and it took Tommy a moment to realise he was laughing. Techno too was chuckling under his breath, though he still somehow looked angry about it.
Giggling, Wilbur grinned at Tommy. “Exactly! They need to be eradicated before they eradicate us.”
Unable to hide his grin, Tommy nodded vigorously. “Dickheads, the lot of them.”
Tommy was slipping into the chaotic and energetic version of himself before he could help it, something he usually tried to suppress, especially around new families. It tended to get him in trouble, make people think he was weird, or just generally piss off anyone close enough to hear him.
But Wilbur’s giggles just got louder, Techno looked slightly less intimidating, and Phil was practically pissing himself on the other side of the couch.
It was nice, to have other people appreciate his sense of humour, but he knew that before long they’d stop finding him funny and start finding him annoying.
Everyone did.