Work Text:
Tommy slammed his head against the keyboard in frustration.
It had been four days since he had first sat down at his desk, ready to begin the long task of completing a project he had been excited about for ages. The script for the show sat on the computer screen in front of him, light glaring into his eyes as he squinted at the screen.
'Ugh..' He groaned, leaning his face on his hand. He had made up his mind that he wasn't going to leave the chair - except for the occasional need to sleep - until he finished this damn script. Slumping down further into his chair, he could see his phone light up in the corner of his eye. Picking it up, and throwing it across the other side of the room, he sat back up and got ready for another night of working.
-
'He's not answering my calls, my texts, nothing!' Wilbur complained loudly to Phil. Taking a bite of the freshly baked cookie in his hand, Wilbur leant back in his seat.
'Mate, he doesn't have to answer every time you send him a message,' Phil replied, raising his eyebrow at him.
'But he always does!' Wilbur stated through a mouthful of cookie. 'I don't understand!'
Phil stood up, wandering around the kitchen and placing plates in the dishwasher. 'If you're that worried, go check on him. He's probably just working on his show, you know how obsessive he gets over that stuff.'
Wilbur stood up decisively, crossing his arms.
'I am that worried. I'm going to check on my brother , Philza. See you later!' Phil rolled his eyes fondly as Wil strolled out the door, clutching another two cookies in his hand.
-
Tommy woke up to a banging on the door downstairs.
Lifting his head slowly from where it had fallen on to the keyboard, he groaned as fuzziness filled his mind. His stomach turned, nausea overwhelming his senses. Placing one hand on his desk, he attempted to push himself up from the chair, only to pitch forwards on to the ground as black dots filled his vision.
'Who is it..?' He attempted to yell in the direction of the stairs, with it only coming out as a croak. Tommy winced in pain, his throat raw.
Shit.
He was sick.
Curling his knees up to his chest, he leant his head against the wall as he sat on the carpeted floor. In the distance he could hear a door unlocking, and the sound of someone calling out to him. His eyes were fluttering shut when he suddenly saw brown curly hair and a worried face fill his vision.
'Toms - sunshine, are you okay? Tommy you look awful.' Wilbur reached out to run a hand through Tommy's hair, eyebrows creased in concern as Tommy shivered.
'.. Wil?' Tommy croaked out, reaching out for Wilbur's hand, Wilbur immediately taking ahold of Tommy's and clutching it closely.
'Tommy you're ill! Why didn't you tell anyone? Oh Toms...' Wilbur reached around Tommy's shoulders, pulling him against his chest as Wilbur leant on the bed. Tommy sank backwards into Wilbur's arms, relaxing into the warm embrace. He looked up at his computer in concern. All that, and he hadn't even finished his work!
'Can't - have to do work.' Tommy nudged their intertwined hands towards the script on the computer screen. 'Can't sleep. Don't let me,' He mumbled, begging his eyes not to shut. 'Im being lazy..'
'Tommy you aren't being lazy! What are you talking about?' Wilbur looked so concerned that for a moment Tommy almost believed him. But Wil was wrong. Tommy was relishing in the feeling of being held by his brother. He was slacking off, not putting in the work that his fans deserved. 'Wil I just need another day. Just another one,' he whispered, his throat nearly in too much pain to speak. 'Five days, I'm almost there.'
Wilbur looked down, dismayed. 'Don't tell me you've been working like this, sweetheart,' He said, worry filling his voice. 'Come on Toms,' Wilbur pulled both of them up on to the bed, tucking the sheets around Tommy. Tommy attempted to protest by weakly kicking the sheets back off. Ignoring this, Wil grabbed the stuffed cow from Tommy's bedside table, and placed it in the boy's arms, Tommy immediately clutching it to his chest. Wilbur placed the back of the hand against the warm forehead in front of him, sucking in a breath when he felt the heat on his hand. 'You need to get some sleep, sunshine.'
His eyes heavy, Tommy couldn't disobey such an inviting order, and finally he drifted off to the feeling of a hand running through his hair, as his brother pulled him closer to his chest.
-
Tommy awoke to a quiet conversation happening around him. Shutting his eyes tighter, he leaned into the warm object he was holding and attempted to fall back asleep.
'... he was so sick, Phil ...'
'... so cute ...'
'... a picture?'
A hand pulled him closer to the warm object and he sighed comfortably, shifting around so that he was hugging whatever it was. Soft giggles could be heard throughout the room. Finally, attempting to open his eyes, he became aware to what was around him. His head was buried against Wilbur's chest, and his arms were clutching on to Wil as well. Raising his head, he could see Phil standing across the room, smiling fondly at the pair.
'... Wha- what's goin' on?' Tommy murmured, staring at Phil. His head still felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton, but his throat wasn't stinging as much as the last time he was awake.
'Sunshine, you slept for 16 hours,' Wilbur smiled at Tommy's confusion. 'And you needed it, too,' Phil added on. 'Now, who said you were allowed to overwork yourself that much?' Tommy shrugged, placing his head back down on Wilbur's chest. 'I needed to. It's a very effective way to get things done,' he argued, snuggling closer to his brother.
Wilbur laughed quietly at Tommy's actions. 'Well, not anymore, certainly not while I'm here.'
And Tommy hummed softly in agreement. Whatever would keep him in the arms of his favourite person was worth agreeing with.