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Having a soulmate wasn't really something Tommy thought would ever happen to him. He was always the 'weird kid' who nobody liked, so he'd assumed his soulmate, if he ever had one, would feel the same.
And when he was ten, a soulmark appeared on his hand.
It was in the shape of a heart, the point towards his knuckles, and took up about half of the back of his palm, sitting directly in the centre.
He hadn't realised at the time, but the mark was a cleaner version of the heart on his paw when shifted. His fur was orange and creme everywhere, except for the messy heart on his paw, which was black, just like the mark.
It was a connection he wouldn't make until he was almost seventeen.
⁕*⁕*⁕
Tommy ducks between Phil and Wilbur, trying to ignore the back of his hand itching.
He hasn't been to an arcade since he was about seven, and he's excited.
Obviously, Phil and Wilbur can tell, as they laugh, following him. Wilbur, being taller, catches up to him faster and grabs the back of his shirt to slow him down.
"No running off." Phil reminds, patting him on the shoulder. "I wasn't runing off." Tommy protests, crossing his arms and trying to ignore the way his hand itches even more when Wilbur slings an arm over his shoulders.
"You absolutely were." Wilbur denies, sounding indignant.
"No I was not!" Tommy reiterates, tilting his head back to glare at Wilbur, who merely raises an eyebrow down at him. "You were." Phil agrees, making Tommy turn his glare on him.
Tommy, too caught up in all of the excitement, never noticed Wilbur staring at his hand.
He also never noticed how Wilbur was always the one grabbing his hand to cross a street or when they had to go through a crowd. He probably would've connected the dots sooner if he had, but that took another few months.
⁕*⁕*⁕
Tommy slinks outside, carefully closing the door behind himself.
It was too crowded inside, making him feel uneasy. He loves his friends, but crowds are never really something he's done well in the midst of. And Wilbur disapeared a couple of minutes ago, despite the gathering being at his house. Tommy wants to know where he went.
He steps out of view of the back door and shifts, taking a moment to get used to being so much smaller.
The moment doesn't get a chance to last very long before he hears a loud meow, making him lift his head and turn towards the sound.
Standing a few metres away is a black cat, staring at him with glowing yellow eyes. When Tommy looks closer, the cat has a patch of much lighter fur on their right shoulder. Looking even closer than that, the patch matches his fur.
Before the realisation gets to fully set in, Wilbur is sitting where the cat just was.
Wilbur is the cat.
"Come here, Toms." Wilbur says, beckoning him closer with outstretched arms. Tommy narrows his eyes at him. Wilbur doesn't falter, beckoning him closer again.
Reluctantly, Tommy picks himself up and stalks closer, stopping a small distance away with the intention to shift and ask the man what he wants. He doesn't get the chance, however, as Wilbur leans forward and scoops him up, resting Tommy in the crook of his elbow.
The first thought Tommy has is that the hold feels safe.
"Hi, sunshine." Wilbur greets, scratching behind his ear and kissing the top of his head. Tommy meows up at him, purely for the purpose of making noise. Wilbur clearly knows, if the fond smile he adopts is anything to go off.
"Still just as vocal, I see." Wilbur teases, scratching under his chin.
Tommy meows at him again.
Grinning, Wilbur maneuvers his way onto his feet, covering Tommy with his hand. Tommy honestly couldn't care less, more than happy to stay nestled into the elder's arm.
⁕*⁕*⁕
Tommy paws at Wilbur's door, telling the man to open it.
Standing just at the top of the stairs with an eyebrow raised, clearly amused, Wilbur does not move.
Unfortunately for him, Tommy is on a mission. So he shifts and reaches for the handle to pull down, only for arms to wrap around his ribs and pull him away.
He shrieks, stumbling with the sudden momentum.
"I'm not letting you into my room just so you can trash my stuff, love." Wilbur huffs, letting go of Tommy to grab him by the shoulder and turn him around so that they're face to face. "Not happening."
Tommy sticks his tongue out at him, wrinkling his nose up. Wilbur only looks more amused.
"No." Is all Wilbur says this time, cupping his face and kissing him on the forehead. "I was just going to steal sweaters." Tommy mumbles, ignoring the fact that his motive was actually to steal blankets and make a nest in the middle of the bed.
"I don't believe you."
⁕*⁕*⁕
Wilbur grabs Tommy's hand when the kid is half way through homework, pulling it away from the paper and kissing the back of it, over the soulmark.
Tommy doesn't react, his right hand still free for writing, used to the random acts of affection.
"I love you." Wilbur reminds, squeezing Tommy's hand before letting go.
"Love you too, dad." Tommy mumbles, distracted by the paragraph he's half way through writing.
Wilbur blinks.
Dad.
That's a new one.
⁕*⁕*⁕
Wilbur brushes past Tommy's door, pausing for a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the faint light in the room, opposed to the complete darkness of the hallway.
Tommy always sleeps with a lamp on, at its lowest setting.
He trots closer and jumps up onto the bed, landing on Tommy's legs. Thankfully, his kid remains asleep, undisturbed by the movement.
Wilbur climbs higher, turning to wedge himself under the blankets and into Tommy's chest.
He curls up on the mattress, between Tommy's arms and his chest, covered by three blankets.
It's a very nice place to sleep.
⁕*⁕*⁕
Tommy buries his face in Wilbur's jacket, arms hanging limply by his sides, not even allowing the man a chance to enter the house.
Laughing, Wilbur pushes him away to step inside and close the door, proceeding to hold his arms out. Tommy glares at him, crossing his arms. "No," He says, tilting his chin up. "You've lost your hug chance."
Raising an eyebrow, Wilbur drops his satchel and takes a step forward.
Tommy turns on his heel and starts to sprint away, two feet becoming four mid-step.
Wilbur shifts too, chasing after him. Tommy, having predicted the movement, is already scurrying under the couch.
As he'd learned, Wilbur, not being a kitten, can't fit under their rather low to the ground lounge. So, he puts himself directly in the middle so that Wilbur can't swipe at him from the edges.
He's stared at for a moment before Wilbur huffs loudly, pulling back and shifting back.
"I'm not leaving until you come out here and hug me, darling." Wilbur proclaims, sitting with his legs crossed and hands on his knees. It's how he sits often, either that or standing with his arms crossed, refusing to move until Tommy does one thing or another. Most of the time, it's just him demanding a hug or for Tommy to clean up a mess he's made.
And, if Tommy is honest with himself, he did miss Wilbur.
He springs out from under the couch, shifting half way throught the air and slamming into the man's chest.
Tommy wraps his arms around Wilbur's shoulders and his legs around his waist, clinging to him like a koala. Used to the 'attacks', Wilbur has moved his arms out of the way, and quickly wraps them around Tommy's back, squeezing him.
"Mine." Wilbur hums, resting his chin on Tommy's head. He barely even sounds winded.
⁕*⁕*⁕
Tommy knocks the top of his head into Wilbur's shoulder, hitting the soulmark.
Wilbur looks down at him, expression the same as it always is when shifted, yet somehow also intrigued. Tommy knocks his head into Wilbur's shoulder again.
He yelps when he's shoved onto his back, Wilbur swatting at his face. He meows, indignant. Wilbur doesn't seem to care, knocking their foreheads together.
Wilbur then meows at him, tapping their noses together.
⁕*⁕*⁕
Tommy tucks his head under Wilbur's chin, laying on his chest. They're both on the couch, watching TV.
Wilbur shifts around, letting go with one arm, leaving the other around his waist, to grab his hand. "Why are you so obssessed with my soulmark?" Tommy huffs, taking his eyes off the TV to tilt his head back and look at the man he's come to see as a father.
"Because you're mine," Wilbur hums, squeezing his hand. "And this is proof that the universe agrees." Wilbur kisses the soulmark for what must be the millionth time.
"You're so cheesy." Tommy insults, rolling his eyes and tilting his head back down, trying to hide his smile.
"I don't need a reminder, sweetheart, I know." Wilbur snorts, letting go of his hand to have both arms wrapped securely around his kid again, kissing the crown of his head. "Of course you don't, it's your entire personality at this point." Tommy grumbles, ignoring the laughter his remark receives.
⁕*⁕*⁕
Tommy shoves Wilbur's door out of his way, making it swing widely into the room, almost hitting the wall behind it.
Wilbur, despite definitely having been asleep before Tommy barged into the room, sighs. Quite loudly, too.
He pays the sound no mind, trotting over jovially and jumping onto the bed. Wilbur peers at him through narrowed eyes, barely awake. Tommy smooges him.
Sighing again, Wilbur rolls onto his back and rubs at his eyes.
Tommy sits down, pressing his tail against his side and just observing Wilbur, who glares at him after a moment. There's no heat behind it, and if anything, he just looks fond.
"Shift." Wilbur mumbles, pushing himself upright. Tommy tilts his head.
He obliges after a moment, grinning at Wilbur the moment he gets the chance. "You needed to disturb my sleep for what reason, exactly?" Wilbur asks, raising an eyebrow at him.
"My bed was cold." Tommy lies, shrugging.
Wilbur's expression goes from confused unimpressed to deadpan unimpressed. "Here, I'll solve that problem."
Before Tommy gets a chance to react, Wilbur rockets forward and grabs him, pulling him down and into the man's chest, effectively trapping him. He shrieks, trying to struggle out of the hold, but Wilbur doesn't let go.
He grins, peppering Tommy's face with kisses.
"Does this solve the problem, precious?" Wilbur asks, smug, letting go with one arm to pull the blankets over them.
"I guess." Tommy grumbles, secretly very happy with the arrangement. "Good," Wilbur hums, tucking Tommy's head under his chin and carding through his hair. "Because you're not leaving. I love you, dear."
"Love you too, dad." Tommy whispers, melting into the hold.
Wilbur smiles.