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tommy isn’t the kind of person to splurge on brand new things solely for his own comfort. he’ll willingly spend whatever is necessary for new camera equipment but when it comes to himself and his needs, he’s always been a bit hesitant. he wants to remain humble and in control despite his youtube success and carelessly throwing away his money isn’t the best idea.
but here he is, cutting open a package that had arrived on his doorstep hours ago. tommy had been fidgeting with nervous excitement waiting for its arrival but he had only gotten the courage to open it when the sky outside turned dark and his parents had permanently settled downstairs. he’d rather not be walked in on when he’s having a crisis.
he lifts the contents out of the box and puts it carefully down onto his bed sheets, staring at the many articles of clothing that now lay before him. a flowy, knee-length skirt; a crop top that would expose the flat planes of his stomach; an oversized cardigan with sleeves that would reach long past his fingertips; a sundress with puffy shoulders and a nice floral pattern, and much much more.
this has been a long time coming, something that had popped into his mind when he was a young, impressionable child who was swayed by the words of other kids on the playground. once, he had wanted to play the princess but they had laughed in his face, the kind of casual rejection only a kid could manage, and from then on tommy had always insisted on being the knight in shining armor instead, the previous incident just forgotten as a one-off mistake.
falling into the depths of toxic masculinity hadn’t been fun. tommy’s never been all that overly offensive, but the constant insistence of him liking women was… well, not exactly a lie, but just something that hid much more conflict. he’s still not quite sure if he’s romantically interested in girls, not when his traitorous brain constantly focuses on just one person, and he knows he doesn’t want to be a woman. he just wants to be pretty.
at first, tommy thought the ugly feeling that flooded him whenever he interacted with nikki was just petty jealousy. nikki is lovely, and tommy truly values their friendship, but that doesn’t stop the constant reminders that she’s much more wilbur’s type for two reasons: a) she’s a woman, and b) she’s not a minor who is meant to be more like wilbur’s younger brother.
but he realized the envy wasn’t just in regards to her closeness to tommy’s silly little crush, but also because of who she is. whenever her name pops up on twitter, it will follow with soft compliments and tommy wants that so desperately. he doesn’t want to be a funny gremlin child who gets on everyone’s nerves, he wants to be so ethereal it hurts to look at.
and so here he is. the items are nothing extravagant, just a bunch of casual clothing he’d found for fairly cheap on one of the first women’s clothing links that had popped up on google. but it’s still something and tommy’s fingers hover hesitantly over the selection before he picks up the denim shorts. it’s the closest to what tommy would usually wear. it’s just basically a short pair of jeans, he tries to convince himself so his breathing will steady.
tommy slips off his usual pair of jeans and drags the shorts up, humming happily when they fit perfectly on his tiny waist. he peers down at the now smooth skin of his legs, ignoring the few cuts he had gotten in the process of shaving after his hand slipped, and tries to convince himself that this changes nothing, that he’ll go back to being normal eventually. tommy takes a deep breath and looks into the mirror and- he smiles.
his baggy t-shirt flares out around the edge of the shorts, emphasizing just how small tommy actually is, fragile and daintier than his online persona would ever suggest. tommy had covered himself up in baggy jeans and loose t-shirts for years because it was what was expected of him and rather than what felt right. and tommy has all the insecurities of a sixteen year old but he almost thinks he looks good. he feels comfortable in his own skin for once.
the thing is- tommy is your average sixteen year old. loud, vivacious, forgetful. he’s in the middle of a stream when he can hear betsy nudging at the door and he scoots back in his chair to let her in, patting her on the head with a content smile. but that grin slips when he slides back into his usual place and finds the chat freaking out. then he remembers, he’s still wearing the shorts.
oh no.
(a list of things that tommy doesn’t know:
- jealousy is dangerous thing that doesn’t operate under a series of rules. there’s nothing to stop someone from their envy of another one’s friendship and the jared that wilbur sings of is not called jared at all, but rather goes by the name toby.
- pictures circulate through twitter very quickly, gaining traction without anyone’s consent. tommy’s name goes trending within minutes. and hours later, huddled beneath his duvet, eyes burning from the glare of his phone, wilbur saves every last photo of tommy’s skinny thighs.
- tommy may have fallen under wrong pretenses, always assuming that unrequited love was his destination. but wilbur is not a sane man, doesn’t know his own limits, and pining is his personal forte, even when the object of his affections is eight years younger than him.)
-
it gets different from then on, not because everyone knows. oh, no, never that. it took a considerable amount of time for tommy to get used to the fact that all of his fans supported him, that his parents weren’t judgmental and that his friends are proud of him. but he knows now and finds the smiles coming a lot easier, no longer anxious when he starts a stream and expects an abundance of hate comments in his chat.
everyone has been so supportive that tommy can barely stand it. tubbo is overly thoughtful like always. phil’s says constant fatherly assurances that he is proud of him. it’s wilbur that has made things different, somehow, because tommy isn’t blind. he may act like a reckless idiot but he has enough social skills to pick up on the fact that wilbur is acting differently.
not a bad different. a really, really good different. they’ve met up a lot more recently, now that wilbur has proven himself to be trustworthy to his family, even if his family are completely aware of tommy’s ridiculous crush. and each meeting comes with long-lasting side glances at the hem of tommy’s dresses or skirts, gaze fixated on the sliver of thigh that shows when the fabric rides up.
perhaps it might just be innocent gazes. but then comes the casual comments on how good tommy looks that particular day, the hand pressing down just above tommy’s knee as his thumb rubs circles into tommy’s skin, fingers brushing back the strands of tommy’s grown-out blonde hair and resting the waves behind his ear and the touch lingering for a second longer than it should.
wilbur wants him and tommy thrives on that. and so he never holds back. eret had convinced him to buy the iconic strawberry dress and the neckline cuts right down his chest, exposing pale skin that tommy has always wanted to see covered in teeth marks. but despite the soft pink, he still never shuts up, loud voice a comfortable contrast to the pastel dress, and he glows when he hears wilbur’s laughter.
he had even bought platform boots and practically dressed up as wilbur’s dream e-girl, striped sleeves underneath a black tee, a choker clasped around his neck and fishnet tights over his legs. the look hadn’t stuck around for more than one stream, but he never forgets how wilbur had choked when he had joined their usual video call, eyes locked onto anywhere but tommy’s own.
it’s no wonder tommy’s so wound up. he ends up on most nights, having finished streaming with wilbur hours ago, collapsed onto his bed, oversized sweater he had ‘borrowed’ from wilbur’s closet blanketing his skinny frame, boxers around his ankles as his toes curl into the sheets. he works a hand over himself, quick and fast, the pace only a horny teenager could manage, imagining his fingers as someone else's.
tommy thinks of wilbur, eyeing him up over facetime, gaze catching on the plush of tommy’s lips wrapped around his own fingers, hooded eyes looking up at the camera pleadingly because all tommy wants to do is touch himself but wilbur is calling all the shots. he thinks of wilbur pushing him into the space between two arcade machines when no one was looking and kissing him breathless, rubbing teasingly over the bulge in tommy’s jeans before leaving him there, aching and desperate and needy.
he thinks of when wilbur found him messing around in his office, sheepishly grinning at the older’s scolding, and then he thinks of the punishment that could have come, carpet rubbing uncomfortably on his bare knees, wilbur thick and full on his tongue, the other murmuring pretty little love songs as tommy gagged and choked and begged, please sir, please, i swear i’ll be good-
he digs his teeth into his hand, shaking, trembling, coming all over his chest. and when he lies there, breathless, he can already imagine wilbur right there too, curled around his back, kissing over the curve of his jaw. tommy burns with a want so bad he could almost cry. soon, he promises himself. soon.
( i want you to notice me, wilbur thinks in the dead of night, hand down his pants as he imagines how good thigh highs would look on tommy’s long legs. i want to be everything you ever think about. wilbur doesn’t know that he already is.)
-
tommy has grown unapologetic in his affection and when he slips through wilbur’s door using the spare key that’s always under the front mat, he can’t help but call out the other’s name. “wilbur!” he shouts, the fabric of his dress rustling around his legs when he rushes forward and tackles the older in a tight hug, the pair of them banging back into the wall of wilbur’s living room.
he would say sorry for his rough treatment if it wasn’t for the way wilbur laughs, rich and soft and full of fondness, gathering tommy into his arms. the warmth of wilbur’s hands resting over the dip in his back burns through the thin material, leaving tommy so aching for more touch that he almost whines when wilbur pulls away. he doesn’t make a sound though, not when he notices how wilbur is scanning him contemplatively.
the dress he is wearing rises over his thighs, a bit shorter than what he is used to. the model on the website had worn a sweater underneath, but tommy had just simply slipped the straps over his bare skin. it exposes everything, the harsh dip of his collarbone, the slender curve of his shoulders. wilbur had chosen it himself, refusing to let tommy pay, and tommy had ignored the traitorous voice at the back of his head that informed him that wilbur was slowly becoming his sugar daddy.
“oh.” wilbur makes an odd noise of surprise, high-pitched than his usual tone. tommy tries to not turn red at the way his gaze slowly slithers up to meet tommy’s own, his eyes a little more wild-seeming than usual. tommy knew wearing this was a good idea. not that he ever has bad ideas, of course. “you’re wearing it already.”
“of course, i wanted to show you since you picked it out.” tommy keeps his voice cheerful, nonchalant, even though he just wants to sink onto his knees and beg wilbur to just fuck him already. he does a joking twirl, half-heartedly hoping he doesn’t show too much skin, giggling a little too giddily. “what do you think?”
wilbur swallows heavily, gaze refusing to separate from tommy’s even as the boy begins fidgeting under the attention. “are you trying to tease me?” he chokes out, eyes widening as he registers the words that just left his month and honestly, tommy didn’t think it would end up being this easy to rile the man up.
“maybe i am.” tommy tilts his head and allows a toothy grin to show up on his face. the confidence has been building up for a while now but it manages to catch wilbur off guard. “oh, just shut up and kiss me already, wilbur. i know you want to.” wilbur’s eyes grow even wider and tommy laughs. “i’m not an idiot, wil- okay, i’m not an idiot most of the time. even i can tell when someone is-”
the words die on his tongue when wilbur grabs his shoulders and swiftly turns tommy around, the boy squeaking when he’s pushed up against the wall, trapped by wilbur’s broader body. wilbur towers over him, imposing despite the soft sweater he’s clad in and the round glasses he quickly throws to the side, and he wastes no time in slamming his lips against tommy’s own, swallowing the muffled noises the blonde makes eagerly.
tommy craves rough treatment but he isn’t exactly used to it and he finds himself falling in love with the way wilbur carelessly licks into his mouth, tommy sinking into the touch and whining when they break apart for air, lips slicked wet. “wilbur,” tommy chants, breathless, back aching from where it is shoved awkwardly into the wall when wilbur latches his mouth onto tommy’s neck. “wilbur, wilbur, oh my god-” he tugs at wilbur’s curls, whining when teeth scrapes his skin.
“you’re such a little shit,” wilbur’s voice is raspy as he frantically pulls the dress up and tommy lifts his arms, trying not to grow uncomfortable at being so exposed as it falls to the floor. but wilbur groans, sinking to his knees, pressing a sloppy kiss in the middle of his chest and running a thumb over one of tommy’s perky nipples. “you’re so pretty, tommy, so perfect, fuck-”
“wil, i’m sensitive,” tommy whines when he laps over one of the buds before kissing down the curve of his stomach, nosing at the edge of tommy’s boxers. the touch tickles and tommy giggles nervously, the laugh melting into a needy noise when the older mouths at tommy’s hard dick, the feeling dampened by the thick material. “i don’t- i can’t-”
wilbur shushes him, squeezing his hips as he rises again, dragging tommy into another harsh kiss that leaves him breathless and weak at the knees. “it’s okay, darling,” he murmurs, running a hand through tommy’s hair comfortingly, before he fists the curls and yanks tommy’s head back, exposing even more skin for him to mark up. “you’d never be this responsive for anyone but me, yeah?”
“just you, only you, wilbur,” tommy pants, scrambling to cling onto the back of wilbur’s jumper when a particularly hard bite nearly makes his legs collapse beneath him. “i don’t want anyone else but you.” wilbur practically growls at that, hooking his hands beneath tommy’s thighs and tommy just loops his arms around his neck, pulling him in for a desperate kiss as wilbur stumbles towards the couch.
he’s laid out there, spread out so easily for wilbur to touch every single inch of him, and tommy shrinks into himself when wilbur hooks his fingers in the waistband of his boxers and pulls them off tommy’s quivering legs. “you’re so small,” wilbur whispers, enthralled, pupils blown as he pulls down his own zipper. tommy can’t tell if he is staring at his large hands wrapped around tommy’s waist or his dick that is resting over tommy’s own, the small amount of friction sending sparks up the younger’s spine. either way, tommy blushes.
“i’m a big man, you know,” he defends himself, but the words come out slurred and he whimpers when wilbur rolls his hips, thriving on the feeling of being pinned down and unable to fend off the pleasure. he hadn’t imagined it would be so nice to just let the other do whatever he wants with tommy, but he’s thriving on it now. “i am 6ft 3”, dickhead-“
“now we both know that’s a lie,” wilbur chastises with a teasing smile, pinching one of his nipples hard just to hear tommy squeak. he rewards the pretty noise with another kis, softer this time, a little more chaste. “and good boys don’t lie, do they?”
“i’ll have you know i’m actually a dirty crime boy, wilbur-“ wilbur’s fingers all of a sudden enclose around the sensitive tip of tommy’s dick and the blonde’s legs kick out without tommy’s control. “wilbur?” he whispers brokenly, moaning even more when wilbur digs his thumb into the slit of tommy’s dick.
“you better be good for me, toms, or who knows what i’ll do to you.” wilbur’s smiling, but it’s sharp, the smirk of a predator, the sign of someone who knows exactly what they want to do. and tommy wonders what fantasies wilbur has been hiding this entire time - whether or not he wants to shove his cock down tommy’s throat, whether or not he wants to bend tommy over his kitchen counter, whether or not he wants to play with tommy on stream while everyone else is watching.
“i’d let you do anything to me,” tommy admits, the flush spreading all the way to his ears at the guilty thought. but it’s true, because he trusts wilbur wholeheartedly and knows the older would never hurt him. and wilbur’s eyes darken even more, his hands grabbing at the coffee table before he manages to get his hands on a packet of lube. tommy raises a judging eyebrow and wilbur just scoffs.
“i have to be prepared, you know. who knows when a slutty little boy would throw himself on me,” he says, the words calculated, smirking when he watches tommy somehow turn an even deeper shade of red. something about being called a slut awakens something in tommy, makes his dick twitch against better judgment, and that realization is embarrassing.
“i didn’t throw myself on you-” tommy frowns but cuts himself off with a gasp when the pads of wilbur’s fingers press hard against his perineum, smearing cold lube over his burning skin before carefully sliding down and teasing at his entrance. two slip inside at once and the slight ache is delicious enough that tommy thinks he’ll get addicted to the feeling of wilbur fingering him open.
“you came to my house practically flaunting yourself for me,” wilbur snarls, anger falsified, but there’s something so attractive about it, the vicious curl of his lips. another kink that tommy will have to add to his list of new discoveries. “all dressed up in a pretty outfit that i picked for you and you want me to believe that you didn’t want me to touch you like this?” he punctuates each part of the sentence with a strong thrust of his fingers and they brush up against tommy’s prostate, making him squeal.
“i- you- shut up,” tommy grumbles, unable to defend himself, ignoring wilbur’s smug smile by staring up at the ceiling. but wilbur just grabs him by the chin and locks him in place, their eyes meeting as he slips another finger past tommy’s rim and angles the next thrust just right. “hngh! sl-slower please, i don’t want to cum yet,” tommy whines, sniffling as a few overwhelmed tears form at the corner of his eyes. “i only want to cum with you inside me.”
wilbur’s fingers stop rubbing at his walls, nudging further past the rim but only at a gentle pace that creates a pleasant buzz, his eyes staring tommy down as he processes the words that just left tommy’s lips. tommy lets out a soft noise of confusion when wilbur pulls his arm back, but moans when he feels something much bigger prodding at his hole. “you’re so tight,” wilbur grips tommy’s thigh tight enough to imprint his skin, pushing his legs apart even further and sliding in till his balls are plush against tommy’s ass. “i’m going to fucking ruin you.”
“wilbur,” tommy absently mumbles, pawing at his own stomach to feel over the slight bulge that protrudes even more when wilbur pushes all the way in. the bump disappears when wilbur carefully pulls out, drizzling more lube over his cock to make the slide easier, before slamming back in with a hard thrust that tommy swears will rearrange his insides to match the shape of the older’s dick. “wil, wilby, i think you’re going to break me.”
“but isn’t that what you want, love?” each push of his hips makes a squelching noise that echoes through tommy’s ears and tommy burns a shade of red he didn’t think was possible, tummy full of butterflies at the use of a pet name. “think about it. tomorrow, when you stream, you’ll sit there with bruises on your thighs and an ache in your back and all you’ll be able to think about is me fucking you.”
that shouldn’t be hot, not when tommy has a squeaky clean reputation to keep up with. but it is and his eyes roll back into his head at the thought. tommy is practically bouncing on wilbur’s dick, whole body manhandled effortlessly as his head hits the arm of the couch from the force of each thrust, and yet he’s distracted by his own desire. rationally, anyone knowing about this is a bad idea, but the thought of showing off all of the love bites, letting everyone know that he belongs to wilbur and wilbur alone, makes his head spin.
“who knew that tommyinnit would be this needy?” wilbur mumbles, his voice breaking as he thrusts up at a pace that makes tommy feel as if he is about to fall apart, pleasure cracking his mind into pieces. “i wonder what everyone would say if they saw you like this, so desperate to be taken apart.” wilbur’s panting, messy hair plastered to his forehead, and he leans forward to rub his fingers over tommy’s abused bottom lip, his eyes sharp and cruel and yet full of so much warmth.
“beg for more, tommy.” and so beg tommy will.
( but he’s in your bed and i’m in your twitch chat had seemed like an appropriate lyric at first. he probably wasn’t the only one to misunderstand tommy and toby’s friendship. but he knows better now, much better, and as he falls asleep with tommy’s hair nudging his nose, wilbur knows that nobody else will ever own tommy’s locked heart. wilbur is the only one who has a key after all.)