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Wilbur stares in mild disgust, the paw he had been cleaning lowering, as Tommy trots back into the house, dripping with water with some spatters of mud over his fur. Tommy seems to see no issue with this, prancing towards the kitchen. Wilbur sees many.
He hisses out a warning when Tommy takes a turn and instead goes for the living room, heading for the rug.
Tommy pauses, looking over at him with wide eyes. He didn't realise Wilbur was there, then. Tommy meows, flicking his tail indignantly. Wilbur growls lowly when Tommy takes another step towards the rug. Of course, Tommy being Tommy, takes this as a challenge. Wilbur stands, narrowing his eyes. Tommy starts running, Wilbur close behind. Tommy doesn't get very far before Wilbur sinks his teeth into the scruff of the kitten's neck, removing his paws from the ground.
Wilbur ignores Tommy's shrieking as he carries the younger away from the living room and up the stairs.
He deposits Tommy on the bathroom floor, knocking their foreheads together. Tommy tries to go for the door, but Wilbur swats at the boy's head, making him stumble back.
Using the distraction to his advantage, Wilbur nudges the door closed. Tommy meows at him, stumbling over and pawing at the door. Wilbur picks him back up, placing him back down on the tiles next to the bath mat. Tommy hisses, but Wilbur stands his ground, staring down at the younger until he lays down. Tommy keeps glaring up at him, but it has no effect because of how utterly adorable he is.
Wilbur huffs, satisfied, and moves closer. He licks between Tommy's eyes, earning an indignant meow. Wilbur pays it no mind, continuing to groom Tommy's fur. Before long Tommy is purring, a quieter, more high-pitched version of the sound rumbling from Wilbur's chest.
It sinks Wilbur somewhat into his instincts, which he's pretty sure Tommy is already well and truly lost to.
Wilbur puts a paw on the top of Tommy's head, pushing him down until his chin rests on his paws. Tommy lets out a startled, vaguely irritated chirrup, but doesn't fight him. It wouldn't do much if he did, but Tommy rarely ever does anything without a fight. This merely confirms that the kitten is, in fact, lost to his instincts.
He purrs louder, bumping his nose with Tommy's.
The kitten's eyes open, and wow his pupils are dilated. Wilbur meows, nudging Tommy's side until he moves. Tommy, quite adorably, flops onto his side and goes limp.
Wilbur goes for the mud on Tommy's paws, silently lamenting how dirty the kitten constantly gets.
⁕*⁕*⁕
"You're a bitch." Tommy grumbles, first thing after waking up. "Oh no," Wilbur drawls, sarcastic and flat, pulling Tommy closer and tightening his hold. "I didn't want a filthy child on my rug, how rude of me."
"Fuck you." Tommy grumbles, pressing his face into Wilbur's chest despite apparently being mad at him.
"Yeah yeah, love you too darling." Wilbur sighs, painfully fond, threading a hand through Tommy's hair, scratching gently at his scalp. Tommy melts, making a sound that mimics purring. Wilbur huffs out a small laugh, pushing Tommy further into his chest and tangling their legs together.
"Mine." Wilbur hums, partly instinct fueled and partly just him being possessive.
"No," Tommy huffs loudly, digging his hands into Wilbur's sweater. "I'm mad at you." Wilbur sets his jaw. Tommy is clearly trying to get a rise out of him, and he's trying very hard not to react. "Daaaaad." Nevermind.
Tommy shrieks, trying to free himself. Wilbur tightens his hold again, refusing to let go, and scatters more kisses across Tommy's face. The shrieks turn into giggles, and the struggling stops.
"Say sorry." Wilbur demands, being a lot more sparing with the kisses he peppers over Tommy, his son, 's face.
"Fuck you." Tommy repeats, swatting at Wilbur. "Fine then," Wilbur tuts, dragging Tommy into his chest and caging him there, hold tight enough to almost stop him from moving entirely.
"We're not moving until you apologise." "Fine."
Neither of them are going to cave any time soon.