Archive of Our Own

For some unresolved reason, Tommy and Wilbur had never really bonded in the way brothers should.

Maybe it was the gap in age, Wilbur being eight years older than his little brother. Smarter, wiser, bolder. That’s how sprightly, scrawny little Tommy had always seen him.

Or maybe it was the fact that they were only half siblings—sharing the same father while never knowing either of their mothers. Though they seldom spoke of the subject, sometimes even forgetting they had mothers to begin with, but it never bothered them too much. Phil was a good dad even without the presence of a maternal figure.

Maybe they were too different, too busy, too caught up in their own lives to ever see each other as much more than housemates. But who cares anyways? Whatever the reason for their estrangement, it didn’t ever seem to concern either of them. They never fought or had any resentment towards each other. Tommy actually looked up to his brother—more than he would ever like to admit—but that didn’t mean he wanted to willingly spend time with him. And it definitely didn’t mean Wilbur wanted to spend his precious time with Tommy either

-

When Wilbur was 20, he left to go to America for university. Tommy had been 13, too young and carefree to bat an eye at his brother’s departure. It wasn’t until a few weeks later that the younger began to feel the weight of Wilbur's absence in the house.

It felt empty. It felt lonely falling asleep to the sound of the radiator instead of Wilbur’s guitar playing softly through the walls. It felt wrong doing the chores Wilbur had always done around the house along with his own. It felt sad when Tommy rode the bus with only his headphones and the loud chatter of his peers to keep him company instead of Wilbur’s playlist blasting through the speakers of the car when he drove Tommy to and from school. It felt disappointing eating Phil’s interpretations of the meals Wilbur used to make for them. They never quite left Tommy feeling satisfied in the way Wilbur’s cooking did.

It took three weeks for Tommy to finally cave and call his brother. Despite his gut telling him it was a stupid idea, that Wilbur would think the spontaneous call from his little brother was strange or weird , Tommy was restless, and he knew the urge wouldn’t subside until he gave in and called.

His thumb hesitated over the keypad before he hit the big green “call” button and a muffled ringing sounded from the speaker of his phone. It only rang twice before there was a soft click and Wilbur’s warm voice was melting away any sort of script Tommy had previously planned in his head.

“Hello?” Wilbur's voice sounded fuzzy through the speakers, but it still held its same oddly-soothing tone that Tommy and his loud, pitchy voice had always envied.

“Hey Will,” Tommy said awkwardly. He stood from his bed and began to pace around his room in hopes it would somehow distract from his sudden nerves. 

“Um, hi Tommy. Is everything okay?” Wilbur sounded concerned.

To be fair, Tommy had never called him for anything other than emergencies or when he needed a ride home, and one of those was clearly not the reason Tommy was calling his brother all the way from another continent, so he couldn’t really blame Wilbur for being a bit worried. 

“Yeah, yeah everything’s fine, just thought… thought I’d call and say hi,” Tommy’s voice trailed off slightly at the end. Why was he being so weird? Why did he suddenly care what Wilbur of all people thought of him?

A soft, endearing chuckle came through the line that slowly chipped away at Tommy’s anxiety every time it sounded. He let out a heavy breath as his shoulders loosened slightly.

“Well hi then,” Tommy could hear Wilbur’s smile in his voice. “How have things been? I’ve talked to Phil a few times but I was hoping you would call.”

He was hoping Tommy would call?

“Ugh just call him dad it’s fuckin’ weird when you call him Phil,” another laugh played through his speakers and an unfettered smile grew on Tommy’s face. “Things have been alright though. How about on your end?”

Wilbur hummed, “It’s been okay. I miss my bed, but other than that not too bad.”

“Tell me about it.”

“About what?”

“About uni, dickhead.”

Tommy flopped back on his mattress and stared up at the ceiling as he talked to Wilbur until Phil eventually made him go to bed because “it’s a school night” and he “needs rest”. Tommy beamed with pride at being the reason Wilbur laughed so hard he choked on his drink when Tommy began shouting at Phil that “sleep is for pussies”.

Eventually, though, Wilbur got tired enough that he had to end the call himself. Tommy went to sleep that night missing his brother more than he ever thought he would considering how feeble their bond had been even when Wilbur was still around. It didn’t make sense to Tommy why he had thought about Wilbur so much since he’d been gone and why one phone call had brought him so much relief . Like a weight had been lifted off his chest. Everything about it felt so strange and confusing but he didn’t let himself ponder over it too long. Although he was young, Tommy was beginning to know enough that he feared what might come if he did.

-

When Tommy was 15, he got his first girlfriend. He had a crush on her for as long as he could remember, her curly brown hair and quick wits leaving him enamored. He was so overwhelmingly happy and for the first few weeks, his life felt like a dream.

He was finally able to spend a night alone with her when Phil was out and Tommy had somehow managed to sneak her through his second-story window. It felt like a movie as he held her delicate hand in his and helped her into his bedroom. 

Of course, being teenagers, it didn’t take long before most of their clothes were off and Tommy was hovering over the prettiest girl he had ever laid eyes on, nearly shaking with anticipation. The soft sound that fell from her lips as Tommy slowly pushed into her would be forever ingrained into his memory and Tommy couldn’t help the sigh he let out himself as their hips made contact.

Both teens were breathing heavily after only a few minutes of desperate and almost animalistic thrusting. Tommy, especially, was so lost in the movement of their bodies that he could hardly comprehend what was happening, vision blurred and blinded by pleasure. All he could see was soft, brown curls and all he could feel were fingers digging into his back as he hopelessly held back embarrassing whimpers that threatened to spill from his lips at any moment. He dropped his head down onto her shoulder and squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He began to suck and bite on the delicate skin of her collarbone in a futile attempt to ground himself from the floaty feeling that clouded his head.

Tommy's hands gripped her tiny waist, fingers curling into plush skin. He no longer had the composure to do anything but moan into her shoulder as he raced towards his peak. His brain was so foggy, focused only on the pleasure he was receiving, when a familiar voice sounded in his ears. 

Wilbur’s voice, smooth like honey, flowed through his brain, coating every crack and crevice with its sickly sweet sound. He could hear the man softly like he so often did during their calls. Only instead of telling his little brother stories about lectures or parties , the phantom voice was whispering gentle praises into Tommy’s ear.

Good boy, doing so well baby. So good for me. Such a sweet little thing, come on, cum for me. Cum for me Tommy.

And Tommy did, releasing into the condom he had stolen from Wilbur’s abandoned bedside drawer. He heard a soft squeak as his grip tightened around the body beneath him and he whined helplessly.

As he came down from his high, he began to feel conscious enough to remember where he was and who was actually beneath him. His eyes shot open at the realization that 1. he had just lost his virginity and 2. the thing that led him to climax was the voice of his own fucking brother.

Tommy pushed himself up onto his elbows to look down at his girlfriend who he had almost forgotten was even there. For a moment, he swore she had somehow known all the filthy things he had been imagining as he fucked her. But instead, she pulled him down into a sloppy kiss which he greedily accepted. Anything to get his mind off of what he had just done.

It took a while for Tommy to get over everything that had happened that night. He ignored his brother’s calls for almost a week before Wilbur had sent him so many messages, he finally folded and answered one of the calls with a guilty greeting.

“Tommy?” Wilbur sounded worried. Fair.

“Hey Will.”

“Are you okay? Why haven’t you been answering my calls?”

Tommy sighed. The conversation was already feeling oddly reminiscent of their first phone call with Tommy’s heightened nerves and Wilbur’s concern and confusion. Only, Tommy wasn't a clueless 13 year old anymore. He knew exactly why his voice shook and his fingers twitched in his lap as he spoke.

“Sorry just been… busy,” it wasn’t a very convincing lie, but thankfully, Wilbur didn't press any further.

“You fucking scared me Tommy. Don't do that shit, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah ‘m sorry Will.”

“You should be,” Wilbur replied jokingly. Tommy didn’t laugh. “Are you sure you’re okay? I don’t mean to—”

“I miss you Will,” the words were out of Tommy’s mouth before he could stop himself. He cringed internally, clenching his teeth as he waited for Wilbur’s response.

It wasn’t something out of the ordinary for Tommy to say, and despite usually being one to hold in his feelings more often than not, he had told Wilbur he missed him countless times over the phone. Sometimes, it was the first thing he said when the ringing from his speakers was replaced by Wilbur’s voice. Other times, it was his departing words before the sound against his ear faded into silence. Tommy usually never thought twice about telling Wilbur he missed him.

But the way Tommy’s voice cracked at the end of his sentence and the heavy silence that lingered over the call made it feel different this time. 

“I miss you too,” Wilbur replied, only his words were steady, no cracks or quivers in his smooth voice.

Tommy didn’t know how to respond. He hadn’t thought this far ahead. He hadn't been thinking at all. It had been years since Tommy struggled this much to talk to his brother over the phone. He fiddled with a loose thread on his sweater and chewed on his lip.

“Will you be coming back soon?” It was the only response that made any sense in Tommy’s stupid, jumbled head.

“Probably not,” Wilbur replied, sounding genuinely apologetic.

Tommy had never been so disappointed and relieved in his life.

-

When Wilbur was 24, he booked a flight back to England. Back home.

He had received his degree only days prior to the flight, and now, he was going to be sitting in economy on a cramped plane for 10 hours. 

He had to take a train from the airport and his knee bounced as he waited impatiently for his stop. Wilbur had told Phil he was returning home, but he made his father promise to keep it a secret from Tommy. He wanted to see the look on his brother’s face when he saw him for the first time in four years. 

God, had it really been that long?

If Wilbur was completely honest, he was a bit terrified. The whole time he was gone, he never returned to visit. Not once. It wasn’t that he didn’t get the chance, he had plenty of opportunities to fly home for the holidays or birthdays or just because he missed his family. Because he did, he really did, but something always held him back.

His phone calls with Tommy had been the only consistent thing in his life while he was away, always giving him something to look forward to after a week of pure hell. He relied on the boy more than Tommy could ever know. It used to embarrass him, how much time he spent on the phone with a teenager while his peers partied and drank, but it had stopped bothering him a while ago. Even when his friends mocked him for it, he didn’t care. The thing was, none of his friends even knew it was his brother he was always speaking to.

After his and Tommy’s first few calls, they began to tease him for it, saying Wilbur was spending too much time talking to his “boyfriend”. The assumption wouldn’t have been problematic if Wilbur had just corrected them, but he never did. The way he so fondly spoke to Tommy, lying on his bed with his feet in the air like a lovesick schoolgirl, felt much less embarrassing under the assumption that it was his lover from overseas that always captivated him so easily—not his own brother. And so it became just another of many pits he seemed to keep digging himself into.

Buried in the deepest pit of all, was his home. It broke his heart every time Tommy had asked when he was going to visit over the phone. It was even harder to grit out the same lie every time. He had exams to study for, assignments to do, essays to write. He didn’t know why he did it either. Maybe he was a coward. Maybe the nauseating feeling that pooled in his gut every time he so much as looked at plane tickets got to be too much that he eventually stopped trying altogether. It was truly pathetic, even after all the crying and homesickness, that he couldn’t even open a google tab without his heart practically beating out of his chest. It didn't help that he was completely unwilling to even try to find the source of it at all, too afraid to unpack his unusually intense emotions regarding his home. So he always took the easy way out. He made excuses. He lied.

This time, however, he had no excuse. 

Phil had sounded excited over the phone, promising not to say a word to Tommy. Of course, Wilbur was excited to surprise his brother, but that wasn’t the initial reason he asked Phil to keep his plans a secret. He knew telling Tommy would make it feel real. And selfishly, he didn’t want to give Tommy the time to process his return and the fact that it only took him four fucking years to do so. He just hoped Tommy would be excited too. That he wouldn’t hate Wilbur as much as he hated himself for practically abandoning them. Surely he would be happy to see him, right? 

The longer Wilbur traveled, the more his nerves and excitement began to mix until he was one fidgety, shaky ball of energy. He walked briskly from the station, backpack slung over one shoulder and suitcase rolling behind him. When he was finally stood on the front step of his family’s home, that same nauseating fear held him back. His hand hesitated over the door, frozen in place like a photograph.

Pictured: Young man hesitates to knock on his own door after abandoning family and returning home with a bachelor’s degree, feelings he would rather die than unpack, and other pointless knowledge.

Titled: “Holy Fuck, This Guy’s a Pussy”

Wilbur gripped the handle of his suitcase and took a deep breath before knocking firmly; once, twice. His eyes trailed down to his feet, scuffing the toe of his boot on the concrete step until he heard the click of a lock and he was face to face with his father. His happy, beaming, tearful father.

“Oh my god,” There was a shake in Phil’s voice as they both immediately threw themselves at each other, Wilbur’s backpack and suitcase falling to the ground.

He almost wanted to cry as the man wrapped him up in sturdy arms, making him feel like a kid again. It was so safe, he was so small —despite the fact he was now significantly taller than Phil—he couldn’t even remember why he had been so nervous in the first place. He was home.

The hug lasted only a few seconds longer before Wilbur heard footsteps clunking noisily down the stairs.

Oh, right.

He lifted his face from where it had been buried in Phil’s (now slightly damp) shoulder and opened his eyes. His vision was blurred as more tears began to form, but he recognized the figure immediately. There was Tommy, frozen halfway down the staircase, eyes wide and lips parted like a goldfish as he stared.

Wilbur blinked the tears away and stood to his full height again. He felt like his eyes were playing tricks on him. Tommy looked nothing like the boy Wilbur remembered from four years ago. The Tommy Wilbur remembered wore his sun-bleached hair cropped short, with cheeks still full of baby fat. He had been short enough that Wilbur remembered being able to rest his elbow on top of his brother’s head, doing so whenever he got the chance just to piss the kid off. The Tommy he remembered still had silver braces on his teeth and stubby little fingers that he used to pick food out of the wires. He had pimples dotting his face which he refused to treat because “skin care is for girls”. It was the image of Tommy that Wilbur had preserved his entire time at University—an average, annoying thirteen year old.

The Tommy that stood across the room, eyes wide with long, slender fingers clutched tightly around the banister, was hardly even recognizable. His hair was grown out long, thick blonde curls framing high cheekbones (Wilbur didn't even know he had curly hair) and loose strands sticking out in all different directions. He was much taller too, likely only a couple inches shorter than Wilbur himself. It was hard to tell where his legs stopped and his hips began with the teal sweatshirt—clearly a few sizes too big on him—falling down to his thighs. But it looked intentional in the way it swallowed Tommy’s slender frame, sleeves pushed up past his elbows and collar showing off the expanse of his neck. Wilbur liked teal.

The rest of the room had disappeared, leaving only Wilbur and Tommy to stare at each other like idiots. The brunet was completely frozen and unsure of how to greet this stranger. Tommy, however, seemed to know just what to do, jumping over the remainder of the staircase below him before throwing himself into Wilbur’s arms. The man let out a soft ‘oof’ as he stumbled back a bit, quickly wrapping his arms around his brother’s waist to keep his balance so as to not topple over and bring Tommy down with him. Tommy pressed his face into Wilbur’s chest and his unruly blonde curls tickled the underneath of the older’s chin. The boy no longer smelled of cheap deodorant like Wilbur remembered, he smelled nice. Like cologne and laundry detergent intertwined with a scent that Wilbur would soon come to know as Tommy .

“Took you long enough, dickhead,” Tommy mumbled against Wilbur’s shirt.

The brunet’s hand twitched, thumb tracing Tommy’s spine like he was intentionally comforting the boy. But it never rubbed up and down again like it was supposed to. “I know.”

-

It may have taken Wilbur too long to return, but it didn't take him long to settle back into his normal life at home—though it was strange seeing his house again after so many years. The walls of the kitchen were no longer the depressing shade of gray he remembered hating as a kid. Now they were a soft blue, light enough that it wasn’t overwhelming, but still giving the room the color he always felt it desperately needed. The sitting room had changed as well, the old couch replaced with a much nicer leather one and a flatscreen TV in place of the boxy television he remembered sitting in front of for so many hours as a kid.

The only room that hadn’t changed was his own. He had given Phil permission to use it for storage or maybe as an office so he was pleasantly surprised to find it exactly the way he left it all those years ago. 

It was also nice to be with his family again once he was certain they didn’t hate him like he had feared they would. Hearing their voices in person was so much different than hearing them through the speakers of his phone, especially Tommy’s. The phone line always made his voice sound slightly higher pitched, frozen the way Wilbur always remembered it along with the rest of Tommy—that of a thirteen year old—so he was surprised to hear Tommy’s voice had changed more than he thought. Especially when the boy was tired or just woken up or whispering stories to Wilbur as they both lay on top of his bed, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stickers Wilbur had stuck on his bedroom ceiling when he was eleven.

Everything felt so familiar, the only difference now being Tommy wasn’t just someone he shared his blood and home with. They felt like real brothers. They both found it amusing that they had developed more of a bond in the four years Wilbur had been on an entirely different continent than the 13 years they had spent actually living under the same roof. It was definitely an unusual situation they had found themselves in, but as much as neither were determined to admit it, Tommy and Wilbur liked it much better this way.

They stayed up late every night and Tommy would repeat stories of his friends from college and his girlfriend from year 10 and Wilbur would repeat stories of parties and exams that they had both already told each other over the phone. Neither minded hearing them again, though. It felt different in person. The familiar stories all felt new when they were told quietly in the dark of Wilbur’s bedroom.

With Tommy being out of school for the summer, they spent most of their time together during the day as well. Wilbur began to notice new things about his brother now that he could see him up close. Like how he always ran a hand through his hair when he was nervous, or how he bit his lip and his cheeks went pink whenever he caught himself rambling for too long, something Wilbur had never gotten to see over the phone, though he wished he could have.

He was also struck by the way Tommy had so naturally grown into all the traits that had made him seem clumsy or awkward as a kid. Not necessarily physical ones—though Wilbur could definitely go on about those as well—but more so parts of Tommy’s personality that seemed to fit him much more now that he was older. Like the abundance of energy the boy always seemed to carry with him that used to result in him coming home with scuffed knees and sweaty, sunburnt skin. It took its form now in Tommy’s words. He was so quick-witted in the way he spoke, always bouncing off of Wilbur effortlessly. Everything he said was so simple yet infuriatingly enthralling.

His incessant rambling wasn't frustrating like it used to be either. The way he retold ordinary events so theatrically always had Wilbur captivated in such a way it was impossible to become tired of. Everything about Tommy that Wilbur had once seen as annoying or childish was now unduly charming in a way that Wilbur could decide if he loved or hated.

-

As they spent more time together, Tommy began to notice new things about Wilbur as well. 

Being the youngest in a family of exclusively men usually left him feeling a bit smothered or treated like he was a codependent child—even as he grew to become a young adult. But despite Wilbur’s obvious overprotectiveness, Tommy never felt like that around his brother. He just felt… safe. Like nothing could touch him now that Wilbur was finally there with him.

He noticed the way his brother always moved slightly closer to him whenever anyone entered the room. He noticed the fond way Wilbur stared at him when he thought Tommy wasn’t looking. He noticed how Wilbur always caught him when he tried to do the same.

He knew his affection for his older brother was probably abnormal judging by the small glances Phil always seemed to throw their way when Tommy and Wilbur were cuddled close together on the sofa or habitually pressed tightly against each other whenever they were near. But there wasn’t any ill intent behind their frequent closeness—at least that’s what Tommy told himself whenever his thoughts began to wander—he was just an affectionate person and he knew Wilbur was too. And suspicious looks from Phil or Tommy’s friends or Wilbur’s old classmates they occasionally ran into didn’t seem to bother the brunet any more than they did Tommy, which from what the younger expressed outwardly, was not very much.

The night was when the guilt set in. 

Every evening after Tommy made his way from Wilbur’s room to his own, the blonde would lie awake in bed, every sinful thought he had ever had about his brother playing over and over in his head until he felt nauseous. The night he lost his virginity was always the one that seemed to scream the loudest. He had broken up with his girlfriend just a week after, too overtaken by guilt to even look her in the eye. It had taken Tommy months to finally get over it and convince himself it was a one time thing. But as it turns out, it hadn’t been.

Every dirty teenage fantasy he had always seemed to circle back to Wilbur, and it disgusted Tommy. The way his cock twitched at the mere thought of his brother’s hands on his skin made him feel sick to his stomach. He knew it was wrong, and he hated himself for it almost as much as he loved Wilbur himself.

He wasn’t going to let his unnatural desires get in the way of their relationship, though. At least that’s what he always told himself as he watched Wilbur descend the staircase in his pajamas every morning. Tommy would never be able to forgive himself if he let any of those nightly thoughts alone in his room slip into the time he spent with Wilbur.

So he tucked them away in the pit of his stomach until he was alone in the dark where they all came back up at once like vile, acidic vomit and Tommy fell asleep drowning in shame. It was the same routine every night. He had grown used to it since Wilbur returned home.

Don’t get him wrong, he loved being around his brother. Especially now that they actually felt like real brothers. But that didn’t change the fact that his heart dropped when Wilbur told him one night that he was going to dinner with a girl.

It was well past midnight and Tommy and Wilbur had been chatting for a few hours, staring at the dull glow of the star shaped ceiling stickers when Wilbur began telling Tommy about his old friend from college who he recently connected with again after returning home.

Her name was Niki, and Tommy could faintly remember his brother mentioning her often when they were younger. He met her once as well when Wilbur had given her a ride home from school one day. Tommy, who usually sat in the passenger seat, had been forced to sit grumpily in the back. He remembered watching her the whole drive, annoyance building more and more as he scanned all of her perfect features. Her nose was small and upturned, the complete opposite of Tommy’s own which he had always hated. Her breasts were full and her skin looked soft and squishy compared to Tommy’s that stretched thinly over lanky, childish limbs. The way her soft laugh rang out in the vehicle whenever Wilbur cracked a shitty joke was the cherry on top of every reason Tommy disliked her.

He had never been sure why those things bothered him so much. Niki had always been kind and polite to him, but he thinks that’s probably what he hated the most about her. She was perfect in every way Tommy wasn’t, and despite his usual apathy towards Wilbur when they were younger, he remembered being irrationally upset about the attention Wilbur gave her the whole ride home, not speaking to Tommy once until she had left with a kind goodbye and “see you tomorrow”. Even then, all Wilbur talked about on the rest of the drive home was Niki. 

They had been nothing more than friends when they were young, but the way Wilbur talked about his plans with her now made Tommy believe that was likely no longer the case. 

His whole body tensed as he listened to his brother ramble on about the details of their date. He hummed and nodded to show he was listening, but that was the most he offered until the subject was changed.

“When’s the last time you were on a date Tommy?” Wilbur asked, poking his brother’s arm.

Tommy shrugged, skin burning where his brother had touched him, “Dunno. Definitely not since school got out.”

“Why?” Wilbur pressed.

Tommy's brows furrowed, unsure why his brother of all people cared about his romantic endeavors, but he didn’t want to ask, just going along with the new topic. Anything was better than listening to him talk about Niki.

“Just haven’t found anyone I'm interested in, I guess.”

“Really? What kind of people are you interested in then?”

Oh.

Tommy closed his eyes and chewed on his lip as he thought about the question, deciding whether or not he even wanted to answer it at all, though something in the way Wilbur’s voice was so soft and clearly interested in whatever Tommy’s response would be had the blonde spitting out an answer before he could stop himself.

“Someone smart. Someone who cares about what I have to say. Someone who makes me feel… important.” Wilbur hummed quietly in response. “I like brunettes too,” Tommy tacked on at the end.

Wilbur's laughter rang slightly too loud in the room and Tommy shot him a look of annoyance that his brother couldn’t see through the darkness, though he hoped he could at least feel Tommy’s eyes burning on his skin. 

And it seemed he did because Wilbur turned his head to look in Tommy’s direction, still snickering softly. Tommy couldn’t make out any of his features but he could see Wilbur’s hair splayed out across the white sheets and the hand he had tucked between his cheek and the mattress.

“Smart brunettes that like to listen to you talk. Got it.” Wilbur hummed amusedly.

Tommy blindly threw his elbow out, just barely hitting Wilbur in the side, the man breaking out into another, much quieter fit of laughter.

“Shut the fuck up bitch. What’s your type then if mine is so goddamn funny?” 

Wilbur’s chuckling died down and they sat in silence for a moment as the brunet thought about his answer.

“I like people who are self sufficient but will still let me take care of them. Someone who’s confident and comfortable in their own skin, but not like, boastful about it y’know? And preferably someone who’s smaller than me as well, but that's not necessarily a deal breaker,” Wilbur’s rolled onto his back again, hands clasped over his ribs as he stared up at the ceiling and Tommy could just barely make out the smirk present in his profile. “I also think I prefer blondes over brunettes.”

The image of beautiful, confident Niki with her bleach-blonde hair splayed against the passenger seat headrest flashed in Tommy’s mind, but he quickly shoved it away.

“So spoiled blonde twinks?” Tommy said, mocking the way Wilbur had chalked up his own answer to a T in the same way.

“More or less,” the older replied with more confidence than Tommy expected. Then Wilbur was chuckling again. “Sort of reminds me of someone. ”

Now it was Wilbur who was playfully throwing an elbow at his brother. Only Tommy wasn’t giggling along. He was frozen, cheeks burning so hot that he was suddenly unbelievably grateful for the darkness between them that veiled the pink that spread across his face.

“‘M not a twink,” Tommy grumbled, trying to keep his voice even as best he could, though it came out a bit too high and whiny for his liking, only proving Wilbur’s point more.

“You are the definition of a twink, Tommy.” Wilbur laughed.

“How?” the blonde questioned with annoyance.

“Well for one, all you ever do is follow me around. You’re like a lost puppy, all whiny and complaining when I leave you alone for even a minute. You’re also so small—“

“I’m 6’3”" Tommy quipped.

“Sure, Toms," he could hear Wilbur's eye roll in his voice. "See that’s the next thing, you’re always such a little brat. It’s like no one has ever put you in your place. And I really wasn’t lying when I said you were small. You may not be short but you’re just so… fragile. Like you could just be manhandled any way I wanted and you wouldn’t even be able to put up a fight.”

Tommy’s blood ran cold. He could feel his brother’s eyes on him again, keeping him frozen in place.

“Any way you wanted?” Tommy asked, tacking on a small laugh at the end in hopes of bringing back the lightheartedness of their conversation.

“You know what I meant,” Wilbur replied with a laugh that almost sounded faker than Tommy’s.

After a moment of heavy silence he heard Wilbur’s head shift against the mattress and Tommy glanced over to see his brother’s gaze finally fixed upward again.

“I’m sorry that was-”

“No,” Tommy said, slightly too loud to sound casual. He cleared his throat before continuing at a quieter volume. “No it was- it’s fine.”

Tommy scooted closer to his brother, nudging him with his shoulder to try and lighten the suddenly tainted mood.

“Tell me more about that Thanksgiving bullshit they celebrate over there,” Tommy spat out the first thing that came to his mind but Wilbur seemed to gladly take advantage of a change in subject as he immediately began telling some story about cafeteria feasts and soggy bread.

Tommy wasn’t really listening, though. His mind was so preoccupied by the previous conversation that he didn’t have the capacity to really take in any of what his brother was saying.

That night, Tommy made his way back to his own bedroom earlier than he normally would. As he lay in bed now, staring at his own blank, starless ceiling, the guilt didn’t hit him as hard as it usually did. He was still too caught up in the implications of his brother’s words to even consider the immorality of his thoughts.

Did Wilbur think about the same things he did? Did he imagine what Tommy’s skin would feel like, what Tommy’s lips would feel like against his? The thought that there was even a chance he did sent Tommy spiraling. He knew they were all strong assumptions to make based off of one late night conversation, but something about the honesty in Wilbur’s voice and the way he had looked at Tommy through the dark made the younger feel like it had meant something more.

All of Tommy’s suppressed desires came crashing in like a flood, but the idea that Wilbur possibly shared those same desires made the waves feel less suffocating.

He needed to know. He needed to know if his brother felt the same sinful pining that kept Tommy up each and every night with shame. He needed to know if there was a chance.

Before he could overthink it, Tommy was sliding out of his bed and padding down the hall to the familiar door of his brother’s room. He wasn’t surprised to find Wilbur still awake and on his phone when he cracked the door open. The man didn’t seem to notice Tommy’s presence until he had slipped entirely into the room, silently closing the door behind him.

“Tommy?” Wilbur’s voice carried softly through the darkness.

The blonde didn’t respond, just made his way over to the bed where he sat cross-legged on the mattress across from his brother.

“I can’t sleep,” Tommy whispered. Despite not being the full truth, it wasn’t a complete lie.

“I can’t either,” Wilbur sighed. Tommy’s eyes fixed on Wilbur’s collarbone visible beneath the loose, oversized shirt he had changed into since Tommy had left. His pale skin was illuminated dimly by his phone left on in his lap as he shifted to rest his shoulders against the headboard. Tommy swallowed before meeting his brother’s eyes.

Here goes nothing.

“Will I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

As Wilbur stared at him, waiting quietly, Tommy realized he hadn’t actually planned this far ahead—classic. His mouth opened but no words came out. He swallowed hard and tried again.

“I can’t- I’m sorry if… if I’m reading things wrong I,” Tommy cursed himself for already rambling and took a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t want to… to  ruin things between us.”

Wilbur’s eyebrows furrowed and he straightened his back, leaning forward just a bit, “What do you mean? Tommy, nothing you say would ever make me love you any less. You know that.”

Tommy closed his eyes and gave a small nod, “I know but I just- I can’t say it,” He pressed his lips together, looking down at Wilbur’s hands. They were close enough that Tommy could just reach out and- “I can’t. Will, I need you to… god.”

Tommy ran a shaky hand through his hair before looking back up at Wilbur. His brown eyes were wide, and seeing the genuine concern and care in them made this so much harder than it already was.

“Please, just- I need you to understand what I'm trying to ask you, or…or just forget that we ever even had this conversation in the first place.” Tommy bit his lip, willing Wilbur to see right through him like he always did, even when Tommy wished he couldn’t. To read his mind in the way only a brother could.

“Tom, what are you talking about?” Wilbur still seemed oblivious.

Tommy sighed in frustration, eyes flicking all around the dark room as he contemplated his next move. His eyes traced invisible lines between the artificial stars before he met Wilbur’s worried eyes again.

“Have you ever had a secret that you… you couldn’t tell anyone?” Tommy whispered. Wilbur’s brow softened but his lips stayed pursed. Tommy took it as a yes.

“Do you remember what- what you were talking about earlier?” Tommy asked quietly, eyes darting down to his fingers twitching in his lap.

“What? The stuff about Niki?”

Tommy’s heart sank and his blood ran cold with embarrassment. He could feel his brother’s genuine and confused gaze on him the whole time and it made him want to curl in on himself and die. This was stupid stupid stupid.

“Tommy I don’t understand—”

The blonde hummed amusedly before meeting his brother’s eyes again, “No it’s okay. I guess… it makes sense why that’s the only part you remember,” he said, voice so soft he could practically see the words sink under the weight of the air around them.

“I’m sorry,” Tommy turned to leave. His eyes burned and his mouth felt dry as he pushed himself off the mattress with shaky arms. But before his feet could even touch the floor, there was a tight grip wrapping around his arm, keeping him in place. Tommy whipped his head back around to see his brother’s fingers digging into his wrist, body hunched forward, the confusion in his eyes replaced by something else, something darker.

Tommy opened his mouth to speak but never got the chance as lips were suddenly pressed against his own.

The kiss was chaste as Wilbur pulled back only moments later, staring, waiting for Tommy to say or do something. When the silence lingered and Tommy didn’t move, frozen on his knees, Wilbur released his grip on the boy’s wrist, throwing the hand over his mouth. He bent his knees up to his chest and kicked his heels against the mattress to hastily put distance between them.

“Oh god,” he mumbled, “oh god, oh god . Tommy please… fuck, I’m sorry I—”

Wilbur cut himself off as Tommy leaned forward. The movement was slow, Tommy’s mind coming back to life just enough for him to follow his instincts. The light from Wilbur’s phone faded as it died in his lap and suddenly, they were both in a trance, staring at each other in the silent dark. Wilbur’s hand fell from his mouth as Tommy’s shakily gripped onto the front of his shirt and for a moment, they let themselves indulge in the quiet tension they had created. They were close enough now that Tommy could feel Wilbur’s quick, shaky breaths against his lips. And when the brunet’s wet lashes fluttered shut against his cheeks, oh god Tommy was gone.

The second kiss was different from the first now that both boys knew each others' intentions. Their lips moved carefully against each other, apprehension still lingering softly in every movement.

For Tommy, it was heavenly. It was exactly as he had always imagined it, but at the same time completely different. His fantasies had never bothered to include the way the quiet and darkness amplified the rest of his senses. His ears picked up on every soft sound and breath that escaped Wilbur’s lips and he could feel Wilbur’s heartbeat beneath the fist he had curled against his chest. It didn’t take long before Tommy was softly pushing his brother back on the mattress and slowly straddling his waist, giving Wilbur time to back out or push Tommy away if he wanted. But he never did.

Instead, Wilbur’s fingertips hesitantly traced the curve of Tommy’s waist, hands delicately clasping over his hips like if he applied even the slightest bit of pressure, Tommy would surely shatter. And he was probably right—in the metaphorical sense—but Tommy had been waiting years to fall apart at the hands of his brother. He tightened his own grip on Wilbur’s shirt, hoping it would encourage him to do the same. 

Wilbur got the hint, hands traveling beneath Tommy’s shirt and wrapping tightly around his waist, fingertips nearly meeting at his spine as his large hands practically covered Tommy’s entire midsection. The smaller boy sighed into the kiss, allowing Wilbur’s tongue to explore his mouth. He was beginning to feel lightheaded as the reality of the situation set in.

Tommy was currently whining into the mouth of his own fucking brother.

Something about that thought, which normally would have sent him into a spiral of shame, only spurred him on further, hips unconsciously grinding down in search of any source of friction. 

Wilbur made a soft noise as the front of Tommy’s boxers pressed down against his own, his hands quickly sliding down and digging fingers into Tommy’s bony hips. He guided the boy’s motions as his own hips began to buck up with every downward grind.

It took an embarrassingly short amount of time before Tommy was practically falling apart, lips no longer moving against his brother’s as he panted into Wilbur’s mouth. His head was in the clouds and after one particularly harsh thrust, he groaned and buried his face in Wilbur’s shoulder, fingernails digging into his chest.

“Will, please,” His voice was quiet, barely audible over the ringing in his ears.

“What do you need? Tell me and I’ll give it to you,” Wilbur didn't sound much more composed than Tommy himself.

“Fuck me,” Tommy whispered without hesitation. He hadn't really processed what he had said until he was being flipped into his back and Wilbur was hovering over him, eyes wild and hungry as they met Tommy’s.

“Are you sure?” Wilbur whispered. “I don’t want to do anything that… that you'll regret.”

The statement made Tommy pause, grounding him momentarily. Did he really want to do this? He knew he had been the one that asked, but he still felt hesitant as his eyes met the bulge—that was by no means small—visible through Wilbur’s boxers where there was already a small wet patch forming. His cheeks burned red as he realized he did that. Wilbur’s dick was hard and leaking through the fabric of his boxers because of Tommy. And fuck if he didn't find that hot.

Suddenly, he didn't think he had never wanted anything more than he wanted his own brother’s dick in him at that moment. Morals be damned.

Tommy groaned softly, tearing his eyes away from Wilbur and letting his head fall back on the pillows, “Fuck, yes, I'm sure. Please Will.”

“Okay,” Wilbur whispered after scanning Tommy’s face for any lingering hesitance. When he seemingly found none, he left a chaste kiss on his brother’s lips before sitting up and retrieving a clear bottle from the drawer of his nightstand. Tommy had seen it before, on the day he stole the condoms, but he hadn’t really given it a second thought. Now, Tommy didn't think it was possible to be so intimidated by such a small object.

Wilbur’s fingers dipped beneath the waistband of Tommy’s boxers and he looked up at the blonde through his lashes, asking the question silently. Tommy nodded quickly, the sound of his hair against the pillows nearly deafening to his sensitive ears, and Wilbur pulled his boxers down, revealing the teen’s leaking cock.

Tommy threw an arm over his eyes as he felt Wilbur spreading his legs. His whole body shivered as hands ran up and down his inner thighs with featherlight touches. Just when Tommy thought the silent suspense was going to kill him, a lubed finger was being pressed against his hole. He jumped slightly at the cold temperature and Wilbur whispered a soft ‘sorry’, placing an apologetic kiss on his thigh. 

Tommy whined in anticipation as the finger circled his hole for what felt like an eternity. He heard Wilbur chuckle softly before his arm was being pulled away from his face and he was met with the sight of his brother staring down at him, admiration glistening in his eyes.

“Ready?” the brunet whispered.

“Yes.”

Tommy had never fingered himself before, always too intimidated by the thought itself. The feeling of Wilbur’s long finger pushing into him was… strange. It didn’t hurt, but it also didn’t feel as mind-shatteringly pleasurable as the porn stars always made it out to be.

He closed his eyes as Wilbur’s hand stilled after the second knuckle and allowed his body to adjust to the unfamiliar intrusion. When he eventually relaxed his tense muscles, the finger began to move again, slowly thrusting in and out of him. After a minute of the repetitive motion, Tommy began to get impatient.

“Feels weird,” he whispered.

“I know Toms, it’ll feel better soon, I promise,” Wilbur leaned down and kissed Tommy’s lips before finally inserting a second finger.

Tommy squirmed at the feeling of his hole being stretched even further, every thrust seeming to come from a slightly different angle. It didn’t take Wilbur’s experienced hands long to find the spot he had been searching for, and as long fingers pressed against the bundle of nerves deep inside of him, Tommy’s breath hitched and his eyes went wide.

“Oh my god,” he breathed. His mouth hung open and he could see the infatuation in Wilbur’s eyes as Tommy reacted to his every movement.

Wilbur had been right, it did start to feel good. Really fucking good. Soon three fingers were being thrusted directly into his prostate over and over again until Tommy was practically begging Wilbur to stop.

His skin was hot under his brother’s gaze and his breath came out in short, uneven pants. He burned as Wilbur watched him fall apart and suddenly, it was all too much.

“I can’t, I can't Will,” he cried, fingers twisted tightly in the bed sheets and tears threatening to spill over his cheeks. God this was embarrassing.

Wilbur immediately retracted his hand and Tommy whimpered at the feeling of being so empty so suddenly, a few tears finally escaping and trailing into his hair on the pillow beneath him.

“What’s wrong? Was I too rough?” Wilbur sounded genuinely concerned as he ran soothing fingers through Tommy’s sweaty hair.

Tommy shook his head lazily, “No. Was just- I was so close, Will. Was too much.”

Wilbur cooed, “I’m sorry did I overwhelm you baby? Make you feel too good too fast?”

Tommy nodded, a new set of tears running down his face. Wilbur leaned down and kissed Tommy's wet cheeks before bringing his lips to the blonde’s ear.

“Do you wanna keep going or do you need a break?” Wilbur ran his hands down Tommy’s chest, stopping at his waist where thumbs gently rubbed his sides.

“‘M alright. Just please, for the love of god, fuck me already. Please Wilbur. I need it,” Tommy’s voice became quiet at the end and his brother tightened his grip before leaning back up and staring down at the blonde.

“God, you're so fucking pretty,” Wilbur whispered. “I love you so much, gonna make you feel so good, I promise.”

Tommy whined at the praise and let out a little squeak when Wilbur yanked him down on the mattress so his ass was resting on top of the brunet’s thighs. He could see Wilbur’s dick twitch in his boxers as he manhandled Tommy into the position he wanted. 

When Wilbur finally freed his cock, Tommy tried his best not to stare, but it was hard when he knew that was going to be inside him. Wilbur’s dick was definitely above average, at least an inch longer than Tommy’s own. But the teen didn’t have time to feel self conscious when he was practically entranced by the visual of Wilbur rolling a condom over his leaking member, applying extra lube overtop so he didn’t accidentally hurt the boy.

Tommy took a shaky breath, suddenly feeling much more nervous than he had a minute ago. He trusted Wilbur more than anything, but that didn't change the fact that he was literally about to have a dick up his ass. He felt the head press against his entrance and his eyes flicked up to his brother’s.

“Ready?” Wilbur asked softly.

Tommy hesitated for a moment before resting his right hand on the mattress beside his head, bending his fingers slightly. Wilbur immediately knew what he was asking, and raised his own hand, intertwining their fingers.

Tommy took a deep breath, squeezed his brother’s hand, and nodded firmly. 

Wilbur smiled before leaning down and capturing Tommy’s lips in a loving kiss. The blonde was so caught up in the feeling of Wilbur’s tongue running along his teeth, that his brother’s cock entering him caught Tommy off guard. His mind went blank as the feeling of being full again hit him at full force. His lips stopped moving against Wilbur’s. All he could do was pant into his brother’s mouth as he finally bottomed out.

They both let out a soft sound as their hips came in contact and Tommy’s fingernails dug into the back of Wilbur’s hand as the man began to suck marks along his collarbone.

Wilbur fought to keep still, desperately wanting to buck his hips into his little brother, but he waited for Tommy’s word before slowly pulling back and thrusting back into the tight heat beneath him.

Tommy cried out at the harshness. Wilbur's cock felt so different from his fingers. It was warmer and heavier inside of him, and Tommy was sure he could get addicted to the slow, steady drag of it along his walls.

After a few more slow but brutal thrusts, Tommy felt that newly familiar pleasure run up his spine as Wilbur slammed directly into his prostate.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck right there Wilby,” he babbled out, head thrown back against the sheets.

He heard a soft chuckle from above him, “I like Wilby. Say it again.”

Wilbur ended his sentence with a particularly harsh thrust into the bundle of nerves that made Tommy melt and cry out so desperately.

“Wilby, Wilby, Wilby please, oh god, fuck, please,” Tommy was unravelling quicker than he had expected, legs shaking from the effort to hold himself together for at least a bit longer. It proved easier said than done though as Wilbur began to thrust into him mercilessly, egged on by his brother’s cries and moans. Tommy bit his lip so hard he nearly drew blood so as to not wake their dad, who was still asleep just down the hall.

“Oh fuck,” Wilbur groaned and Tommy opened his eyes to see his brother’s head hung down low, seemingly fixated on something. 

"Will?"

The brunet untangled their fingers but before Tommy could protest, he pressed his little brother’s hand down onto his own stomach. Tommy was confused for a moment until he felt it. With every thrust, he could feel a small bulge appear and disappear again when Wilbur’s hips retracted. 

His eyes flicked back up to Wilbur’s and his mouth fell open in a silent moan as he felt his brother’s dick through his own fucking stomach.

“You feel that?” Wilbur panted, a smirk growing on his face as he looked up at Tommy through his lashes.

Tommy nodded frantically, pressing his lips together to muffle a moan.

“Fuck, can you feel me all the way up in your tummy baby?” Wilbur crooned.

“Yes,” Tommy cried, babbling as Wilbur’s thrusts sped up, “Yes, god, can f-feel you- ah! so far inside me-e.”

Tommy’s words seemed to do something to Wilbur as the man groaned and brought both of his hands down to Tommy’s hips where his fingers dug into the bony flesh. Tommy’s attempts at muffling his sounds became futile as his brother held him in place and pounded into his abused hole.

The sudden shift in angle and pace sent Tommy tumbling over the edge before he had time to warn Wilbur. Tears slid down his cheeks as he threw his head back and opened his mouth in a silent scream.

“Oh, fuck, Toms- baby. So fucking perfect, god,” Wilbur groaned, but Tommy couldn’t hear as his body was overtaken by pleasure.

When he finally began to come down from his high, Tommy whined at the overstimulation as his brother continued to thrust into him at a brutal pace. His hands flew up and he clutched at Wilbur’s forearms desperately.

“I know baby, I know. I’ll be done soon I promise. You’ve been so g-good for me, so good for your big brother just- fuck, just hang in there a little longer, yeah? Can you do that for me?” Wilbur praised the shaking teen.

Tommy only nodded as tears flowed down his cheeks. He could feel his cock beginning to harden again and he could do nothing but whimper and cry as his brother fucked him like a toy.

After a few more minutes, Wilbur’s pace began to falter and Tommy pulled him down to his elbows, burying his tear-stained face in the brunet’s chest. Wilbur could feel the boy shaking , and after a few more brutal thrusts, he was cumming again, practically sobbing as his brother fucked him through his second orgasm.

Wilbur pulled back slightly. The way Tommy’s hole fluttered around his cock and the image of his brother’s fucked out expression as he cried and whimpered finally sent Wilbur over the edge, burying his cock deep and cumming into the condom.

They stayed there, clinging to each other and breathing heavily as they both came down from their respective highs. It wasn’t until Tommy whined at the sticky feeling of cum on his skin that Wilbur finally sat up and looked down at his brother.

The boy looked absolutely wrecked, cheeks flushed and wet as his chest rose and fell rapidly with each breath. Wilbur couldn’t help himself. He leaned down and pressed a gentle, loving kiss to his brother’s lips. Tommy’s fingers tangled in his hair and they both sighed into the kiss until Wilbur eventually left to clean them up.

He gently wiped the cum off of Tommy’s stomach and thighs while he hummed softly and whispered praises to the boy and after a glass of water and two paracetamols, Tommy eventually calmed down as well. 

Once both boys were in a clean set of clothes, Wilbur layed down on the bed and held his arms out for Tommy to crawl into.

“You want me to stay?” Tommy asked, sounding almost shocked.

Wilbur frowned, “Of course I want you to stay, what do you mean?”

Tommy bit his lip and bounced his knee as he thought, “I don't know. I just wasn't sure if you- if this was just a… a spontaneous thing, or...”

“Do you want it to be?”

“If I say no will you hate me?”

Wilbur sat up straight and looked his brother in the eyes, “I’m gonna take a risk here, completely betting on the fact that you feel the same, but honestly Tommy, I like you. Much more than I know I should and the last thing I'd want is for this to be a one time thing, so if you feel the same about me, then I’d really really like to do this again. Only if you want to though.”

Tommy was silent for a moment before he let out a laugh of disbelief, “You're fucking with me.”

“I’m not,” Wilbur replied firmly and Tommy’s amused expression suddenly dropped.

“You’re- you're serious?”

“Look, Tommy, I’m sorry if I misread the situation, but if you don’t want- want me—”

Wilbur was cut off when Tommy surged forward and connected their lips, knocking Wilbur back onto the mattress. The kiss lingered for a moment before the blonde pulled away, a giddy expression on his face.

“God, fucking- of course I want you Will. I’ve wanted this for so long you have no fucking clue,” Tommy said.

Wilbur smiled up at his brother, his perfect little brother.

“I’ve wanted this too,” he said softly.

He watched as Tommy practically melted, eyes so full of admiration before he wrapped his arms around Wilbur’s neck and clung to him so tight the man could hardly breath. Eventually, Tommy loosened his grip but still stayed curled up against his brother’s chest. Wilbur ran a hand through Tommy’s hair before planting a kiss on the top of his head.

“I love you,” he heard Tommy say, voice muffled through the fabric of Wilbur’s shirt.

“I love you too,” he replied. “Now get some rest. You definitely need it.”

“Yeah thanks to you fucking destroying my ass,” the blonde mumbled, already sounding very sleepy.

“You loved it,” Wilbur teased.

“I love you."

“I love you too." the words were whispered softly into Tommy's hair and the boy would have melted is he wasn't already jelly in Wilbur's arms.

Eventually, Tommy drifted to sleep in his brother’s arms, exactly how he had always imagined it in his guilty fantasies. Only now, he didn't think it was possible for him to feel guilty anymore. Not when everything finally felt so right.