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Did something really count as a secret if it just never came up in conversation?
It was a question Wilbur had been asking himself for a decent few months, constantly going back and forth on the pros and cons of the sticky situation he had found himself in. It wasn’t as if he was trying to hide it; he just never found a non-awkward way to approach the topic.
It wasn’t even a bad thing! Certainly not something he would need to be scared to talk to his friends about, it was just hard. There were reactions he had gotten in the past that were perhaps… less than ideal—if getting disowned could be dumbed down to that. He didn’t want to repeat the same drowning feelings of hurt, even if he was a fully grown adult and no longer a scared fifteen-year-old.
So he kept quiet, pushing his feelings of guilt so far down inside himself that they wouldn’t dare to burst back up. He could live his life like this; he was used to hiding.
That didn’t mean it was any easier when he had to lie straight to his friend’s concerned faces. When he had to put on a smile for Phil even if the cramps coursing through him made him want to curl up and cry; had to come up with some shitty reason to excuse himself so he could take the crushing pressure off his ribs; had to look his little brother in the eye as he deceived him with an easy smile.
Wilbur didn’t want their pity because he couldn’t explain why he didn’t need it.
If not saying anything meant that he would have to suffer in silence while on call with his friends, then he could deal with that. He didn’t need to tell them, ever. He could live the rest of his days without ever uttering the words I'm trans ever again and still die a happy man.
In the end, it was his choice—he didn’t have to tell anyone anything that he didn’t want to.
The fatal flaw in this fool proof plan of Wilbur's, was that he really wanted to tell them. His very bones longed to let someone, anyone, know about this huge part of his life that he had kept locked up for so long. He wanted to open his mouth and just spill his guts anytime the conversation lulled to a comfortable silence, wanted to fill the quiet of the vc with the nervous energy flowing through him—sloshing over the sides like a slightly too full bucket.
And maybe it was the homely atmosphere of his bedroom that evening, or the way his skin had felt so right when he had gotten up that morning, but the only thought running through Wilbur's head at the moment was well, why couldn’t he?
It would be so simple; his pc was right there and he was certain that at least someone would be online at this time of night.
What was stopping him?
Wilbur racked his brain and searched his mind for a good ten minutes, almost standing up off his bed a couple times before hastily sitting back down. He knew deep down that nothing bad would happen—his friends were all wonderfully supportive, and even if they weren't they didn’t hold any power over his life. Unfortunately, his brain hadn’t appeared to have caught up on that piece of information, racing through a slideshow of worst-case-scenarios right behind his eyelids.
He rubbed his eyes to dismiss the image—knowing that it would do nothing to help—before shifting to the edge of the bed, taking note of his shaky hands as he placed his feet gently on the carpet.
The computer chair sat innocently before his desk was giving him mixed signals—a strange thing for a chair to do. It seemed to lure him over and cast an intimidating shadow on the wall behind it simultaneously, inviting yet looming as he made his way over to it. The wheels squeaked as he pulled himself closer to the desk and the light from his monitor blinded him when he turned it on, but all senses inevitably melded to anxiety as Wilbur opened discord from where it was minimised.
There weren't as many people online as he was expecting, and even more on Do Not Disturb than he could have possibly guessed. It didn’t matter how limited his options had become, though—the only person he really wanted to talk to just so happened to be online.
Tommy's icon displayed the green Online bubble so Wilbur didn’t hesitate to call the boy, knowing he would probably chicken out if he delayed this any longer. The discord dial tone only rang through his headphones for a second before the sound of the call connecting replaced it.
An animated shout of “Big dubs!” was the first thing to greet Wilbur when the audio cleared, which surprisingly helped melt some of his worries away. Tommy sounded tired enough that Wilbur didn’t want to keep him up for much longer. That was alright; he could make this quick.
“Hey Tommy,” he chuckled, sitting on his trembling hands to keep them from knocking anything off his desk. “Do you have a minute? I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Tommy seemed to perk up a bit at that, the sleep that was previously coating his voice ditched in favour of apprehension.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, obviously leaning closer to his microphone by the way he was marginally louder.
“Yeah, I um…” Wilbur took a second to breathe, scrunching his eyes closed before blinking them back open. “Everything's fine! I just-” he cut himself off with a muffled groan, running his hands up and down his face.
“Take your time, big man,” Tommy chimed in, the easy tone from before returning.
“Well I- uh, I wanted to tell you that… that I- um,” Wilbur let his sentence trail off as he thought of the right thing to say, weighing his options for a few seconds. The approach he was taking clearly wasn’t working; he needed to try something different.
Well, better to rip off the bandaid.
He heard Tommy open his mouth to say something else, but Wilbur quickly cut him off before the ordeal could be prolonged any further.
“I'm trans!”
In hindsight, the way he shouted it was probably louder than it had to be, though the pure terror rushing through his veins made it hard to care in the moment.
“Like… you want to be a girl?” Tommy questioned hesitantly, more unsure than Wilbur had ever heard him. “It’s fine if you do! You just—”
Wilbur stopped Tommy's train of thought before it could really go anywhere, feeling the tightness in his chest being steadily replaced with warmth.
“No, no, god no. I tried that already—zero out of ten. Would not recommend.”
“Oh.” Tommy seemed to catch on. “Yeah that’s- that’s cool big man. It’s whatever,” he rambled, stumbling over his words in his haste to get his point across.
Something about the nickname—even though Tommy had used it countless times before—stuck with Wilbur. It could have been the way fatigue was beginning to work its way into his brain, or the fact that Tommy acted as if nothing had really changed; but whatever it was, it was making tears well up in the corners of his eyes.
He blinked them away, smiling softly as he brought his attention back to the blonde.
“-doesn’t really matter. You're still you, Will, and I’ll always support you.”
“Yeah?” Wilbur mused, unable to keep the tears out of his voice.
“Yeah, ‘course.”
Wilbur let out a wet laugh, wiping the tears from his face with a smile. “I love you, Toms. You're the best friend I could’ve asked for.”
“Love you too, Wilbur.”