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Tommy wakes up to the front door opening.
He's currently curled up in an old box he'd dragged out of Wilbur's closet, tiny ears flickering at the noises past the cardboard.
In his box, Tommy feels nice and safe.
Wilbur's house is always safe, of course, but without the man there, it isn't completely safe. Realistically, he knows that nothing bad is going to happen when Wilbur is away, but his cat (kitten) instincts refuse to admit that he's safe when the elder isn't there to protect him.
"Tommy?" Wilbur calls, setting his keys and satchel down on the kitchen bench.
He meows, pretty feebly, and stands, stretching. He's in the living room, where he had dragged the box to, having to throw it down the stairs, and the orange afternoon sunlight shines over him.
Wilbur stares at him, looking surprised.
It takes a moment, but Wilbur walks over, shrugging off his coat and throwing it on the couch.
"You're adorable." Wilbur murmurs, kneeling in front of the box and a reaching out to pat him. Tommy leans into the hand enough to almost fall over, purring, which makes Wilbur chuckle.
"Is the box comfy, sweetheart?" Wilbur asks, clearly not expecting a response. Tommy meows, loudly, to agree.
Wilbur grins, leaning down to kiss the top of his head.
The man then pulls away, and Tommy stretches again, yawning. He goes to jump out of the box, certain that the house is safe now, but Wilbur jumps in with him. The elder ragdoll drags his tongue over the top of Tommy's head, where he had just kissed, and proceeds to push him over.
He flops onto his side, squeaking in dissatisfaction.
Wilbur pays him no mind, plopping on top of him and surrounding him in fur. They're both purring now, Wilbur's purring vibrating through him. Sometimes, Tommy hates being small, but when he gets Wilbur cuddles, both as a cat and as a human, he loves it. Wilbur cuddles make everything better.
Tommy wriggles, ignoring the elder cat's warning growl, until he's on his front, resting his chin on his paws.
Once Wilbur seems to register what he's done, his purrs pick up. He rests his chin on Tommy's head, tucking his limbs under the kitten. There's a meow above him, one that sounds suspiciously like one of Wilbur's favourite words, "Mine."
Tommy closes his eyes, content.
⁕*⁕*⁕
Waking up, Tommy finds himself being lifted. The haze at the edge of his thoughts and the way his limbs all curl in registers first, then he realises he's been scruffed.
Right after he realises this, he's deposited onto the couch.
He lets out a meow, upset about being woken up in such a way. Wilbur sits beside him, and suddenly shifts, leaving Tommy alone as a cat.
"Fucker." Tommy croaks, following in his father's footsteps. He clambers over, faceplanting into the man's chest.
Wilbur chuckles, wrapping his arms around the boy, shuffling until they're laying down. "Sorry, darling." Wilbur grins, entirely unapologetic, kissing him on the forehead.
"No you're not." Tommy mumbles, wrapping his arms around Wilbur's shoulders, who merely shrugs, pressing a kiss to his hairline.
"My baby." Wilbur murmurs into his hair, rubbing his back with the arm not around his waist. "Clingy." Tommy huffs, closing his eyes and tucking his head under the man's chin. "My sweet sunshine. Mine." Wilbur ignores him, humming jovially.
"You're evil." Tommy grumbles, pretending that he doesn't sink into the affection.
"My love, my dear-" Tommy pushes himself away, huffing loudly. Wilbur laughs, shifting to grab him and pull him right back down. Despite immediately being caged against his father's chest, Tommy keeps struggling.
"Wilbur!"
"I'm not letting go, precious."