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"Wilbur and Tommy are quite like brothers, aren't they?" Wilbur looks up from the lore script, making eye contact with a just as wide eyed Tommy on his screen. Wilbur bites the inside of his cheek, trying not to laugh.
The attempts fail miserably, and he cracks at the same time Tommy does.
Around them, the call falls silent, confused. Wilbur laughs hard enough that he folds over at his desk, Tommy doing the same until he inevitably falls off his chair.
Wilbur only laughs harder.
"Uh, guys?" Techno calls, weary. Wilbur tries to pull himself together, pressing his hand over his mouth. Tommy is still laughing, probably curled up on his floor. "What's so funny?" Dream asks, sounding just as lost as they all seem to be. Wilbur shakes his head. Partly because if he opens his mouth he's most likely just going to start laughing again and partly because he isn't going to tell them anyway.
"Don't worry about it." Wilbur chokes out, shaking with restrained laughter.
Tommy's laughter reduces to giggles and he pulls himself up, dropping back into his chair. His hair has somewhat fallen over his face, tears slipping down his cheeks from how hard he had laughed. Wilbur snorts, swiping away the beginnings of his own tears.
"No, seriously, what's so funny?" Dream repeats, but Wilbur just shakes his head. Phil, who had originally spoken, sighs.
⁕*⁕*⁕
Wilbur shuts the front door behind himself, the loud clunk of the deadlock latching and the sound of the door slotting back into the doorframe catching Tommy's attention. He springs up from where he had been on his laptop at the table, rushing for his father. Wilbur grins, holding his arms out and bracing for impact.
Tommy crashes into him with enough force that he staggers back, the air being knocked out of his lungs. Wilbur laughs, wrapping Tommy up in his arms.
"Wow, missed me that much, huh?" Wilbur teases, resting his chin on Tommy's hair. "Shut the fuck up." Tommy grumbles, words muffled by Wilbur's sweater. Rolling his eyes, ignoring how fond the action is, Wilbur lets go.
"You are officially the worst." Tommy tells him, crossing his arms and glaring up at the elder. Wilbur ruffles Tommy's hair as he walks past, chuckling. "Sure, sunshine, keep telling yourself that."
⁕*⁕*⁕
Wilbur doesn't need to look over when he feels a weight settle into his side, knowing that it's Tommy. The teen rests his head on his father's shoulder, closing his eyes. "Tired?" Wilbur asks, gazing down at the blonde and settling an arm over his shoulders. Tommy hums.
"They're brothers, your honor." Tubbo giggles, grinning at them.
Wilbur pays it no mind, but Tommy frowns. It's incredibly slight, and something only someone who knows Tommy very well would see. So of course, Wilbur notices.
He wants to ask Tommy what's wrong, but figures now isn't the time, so files it away for later. Wilbur reaches up with his free hand, running it through Tommy's hair and scratching gently at his scalp. Tommy is out almost immediately, and he smiles.
Kristen coos at them, fishing her phone out of her pocket and turning around in the passenger seat to take a photo. Or several.
Wilbur can request them later.
"Isn't he just so adorable?" Phil asks, grinning, glancing at them through the rear-view mirror for a moment before returning his eyes to the road. Wilbur bites his tongue, resisting the urge to rant about how if they think this is adorable, then they should see sleepy Tommy. Sure, fully asleep Tommy is cute, but sleepy Tommy is heart melting.
Sleepy Tommy is a lot clingier, and sweeter, than when he's awake, and Wilbur loves it.
"Yeah," Wilbur hums, pulling Tommy closer. "He is."
⁕*⁕*⁕
"What's wrong?" Wilbur asks the moment the door shuts behind them. Tommy looks up from his phone, brows furrowing. "Huh?" Wilbur purses his lips. "You frowned when Tubbo called us brothers. What's wrong?" Wilbur rephrases, curling two fingers under Tommy's chin and tilting his head up.
"Nothing." Tommy mutters, pulling away and heading for the stairs.
Wilbur sighs, curling his hand into the back of Tommy's jacket, dragging him back. "No, baby, you aren't getting out of this one." He informs, pulling Tommy into his chest and caging him there, ensuring the conversation can't be escaped. Tommy struggles for a moment before giving up, realising that Wilbur really isn't going to let him go until he gets his answers.
"'Cause we're not." Tommy mumbles, words muffled by Wilbur's sweater. "Brothers." Tommy clarifies when Wilbur makes a confused sound. "No," Wilbur agrees, still confused. "We're not. I'm not really understanding, sweetheart, please elaborate."
Tommy huffs, burrying his face in Wilbur's shoulder.
"You're my dad, not my brother." Tommy practically spits, sounding on the verge of tears. "It's- It's like a downgrade or something. I don't know, I just don't like it."
Oh.
"It's a joke, baby. They don't know, they don't mean it. If it makes you upset, I can tell them to stop." Wilbur offers, pulling back enough to look at Tommy, who looks unsure. "You are my kid, Toms. You're my son, you always have been and you always will be. A joke from our friends is never going to change that." Wilbur assures, moving one arm from around Tommy to cup his cheek, wiping away the single tear that falls.
"Do you want me to tell them to stop?" Wilbur asks, and Tommy is still for a moment, staring at the door. He's thinking pretty hard, then.
"No," Tommy eventually says, shaking his head. "But just so you know, I'm going to buy you a bunch of terrible brother gag gifts." Wilbur breaks into laughter, pulling Tommy back into his chest.
"Oh, you're adorable, darling."
⁕*⁕*⁕
"Kristen." Wilbur calls, catching the woman somewhat off guard. "Can you keep a secret?" He asks, biting back a grin as he holds his phone behind his back. "Is it a bad secret?" Kristen somewhat accuses, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms. Wilbur snorts, shaking his head.
"Then what is it?" She asks, posture softening. Wilbur grins.
"I wanted to tell you that Tommy is my son. Biologically. Before you ask me why I'm telling you, it is purely because I want to show you baby photos of him." Kristen's eyes light up. "Baby photos, you say?"
---
"What are you two looking at?" Phil asks, narrowing his eyes at Wilbur and Kristen where they're huddled over the former's phone, giggling. They keep giggling at the photo, which is Tommy pouting up at the camera, arms crossed while he's wearing a very frilly red dress. Wilbur remembers every moment of that day, and the photo is actually the four year old being mad he had to get changed after wearing his 'favourite clothes ever' all day.
"Really?" Phil sighs, exasperated but fond. Wilbur looks up for a moment, grinning, before he returns his attention to his phone and swipes to the next photo.
This one is a lot older, from when Tommy was only a few months old. He's bundled in a yellow blanket, tiny arms with even tinier hands reaching up to Wilbur, who was cradling the baby to his chest with one arm. His pointer finger was being held somewhat hostage, Tommy's fingers just barely too short to fully wrap around the appendage. Tommy's eyes have always been blue, but in the photo they're almost glowing with how bright they were in the dimly lit room.
"My friend took this one." Wilbur says, pointing to a mirror in the backround where there's a shoddy, half cut off reflection of another person holding up an old camera.
"How old were you?" Kristen asks, eyebrows furrowing. Phil looks up from were he had just set the kettle on the stove, confused. "Uh.. I think this was a few weeks after my sixteenth birthday." Wilbur answers, having to think for a moment.
Kristen turns to look at him, expression falling somewhere between concern and horror.
"What are you two talking about?" Phil huffs, hopelessly lost. Wilbur looks at him, then glances at his phone. He does this a few times before handing it over to Kristen, allowing her to look through more photos. "Your mother."
Kristen starts laughing again, Phil just sighs.
⁕*⁕*⁕
"Wilbur and Tommy are totally brothers, chat, don't let them convince you otherwise." Tubbo says offhandedly, swaying back and forth in his chair. Tommy, who is sitting next to him, glances way over at Wilbur, who is out of frame. Wilbur rolls his eyes, chuckling quietly enough that neither Tubbo, who is ranting about them 'totally being brothers', nor his mic pick it up.
Love you, Wilbur mouths, proceeding to promptly exit the room. Tommy flips him off as he goes, which is returned.
"See, brothers!" Tubbo screeches, gesturing wildly between where Tommy is and where Wilbur had been, the area still off screen. Tommy takes a bite of his cookie and pretends the interaction never happened.
⁕*⁕*⁕
"Wilbur and Tommy really do look alike, don't they?" Phil hums, mostly just to himself, as he reads something on his phone. Wilbur looks down at Tommy, who is laying on his chest. Tommy looks up at him, shrugging slightly. "I mean, yeah?" Wilbur pipes up, everyone's attention turning to him. Kristen grins, knowing what he's about to reveal.
"It's kind of expected, seeing as he's my son." Wilbur says as nonchalantly as physically possible, clasping his hands together on Tommy's back.
"Prove it." Tubbo demands, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. Phil is staring at them, Kristen is giggling. "I have baby pictures-" Wilbur offers, reaching for his phone. "NO!" Tommy shouts, reaching for the device just as it leaves Wilbur's pocket, Tubbo yelling "YES!" and lunging for him at the same time.
Tommy, being much closer, snatches Wilbur's phone. He then proceeds to lie on it, glaring at Wilbur. Tubbo pouts, sitting back and crossing his arms once more.
"You aren't helping your case, baby, you're still just as adorable." Wilbur grins, steering the conversation in a different direction. Tommy faceplants into his shoulder, blushing. Various coos come from different directions, which Tommy is undoubtedly scowling at. "I fucking hate you." Tommy grumbles, words muffled from where he's pressing his face into Wilbur's sweater. "Sweetheart-" "Shut up!" Tommy cries, earning only laughter.
"Alright, alright, I'm sorry." Wilbur takes mercy on Tommy, ruffling his hair as part of his apology.
Tommy lifts his head to glare at him, which Wilbur takes as the perfect opportunity to kiss him on the forehead. Tommy huffs, trying to get up, but Wilbur grabs him and pulls him right back down, uncaring as his phone clatters to the floor.
Wilbur grins as Tommy shrieks, thrashing and wriggling about as he tries to free himself. He's well aware that they're being recorded, but couldn't care less.
"Daaad." Tommy whines, scrunching his nose up when Wilbur starts scattering kisses across his face. "Tommyyyy." Wilbur mocks light-heartedly, tucking the teen's head under his chin. "Fuck you." Tommy grumbles, burrying his face back in his father's sweater.
"Yeah yeah, love you too, angel." Wilbur grins, carding his hand through Tommy's hair. "I'm so posting this." Tubbo whispers, grinning down at his phone. "No." Tommy says, trying to lift his head only to be pushed right back down. "Not to the internet." Kristen tells Tubbo, lowering her own phone. Tubbo shakes his head. "No, not to the internet, this isn't for them." Tubbo agrees, tapping frantically at his screen. Wilbur pays them no mind, attention turning entirely to Tommy, who is currently cursing out all of them under his breath.
Later, Wilbur will check Discord and discover the video Tubbo took, followed by several confused messages.
For now, though, he's pretty content to just laugh as Tommy cusses them all out.