Chapter Text
Sapnap, Karl, and Quackity are on a date. Well, freeze frame, record scratch, Sapnap, Karl, and Quackity were on a date. Then Quackity had gotten a quite frankly ominous call from Wilbur, who simply said “Come to the diner, I know what you did.” before he hung up, leaving Quackity sweating bullets and dragging his feet anxiously. And when they finally convinced him to go see what Wilbur wanted, it started pouring buckets.
So yeah, needless to say, their picturesque date hasn’t exactly gone as planned.
Thankfully, they had found an awning overhanging an alley near them before it started to really come down, so he and Karl aren’t too drenched. Unfortunately, they’re sharing the space with a fifth-grader, of all people.
“I’m not that young, you dickhead.” The kid says, as if reading his thoughts, and Sapnap chuckles, not entirely convinced. Karl elbows him in the side and sends him a look as if to say ‘be nice’
“Never said you were.” Sapnap begins, and the kid rolls his eyes.
“Yeah, but you were thinking it, weren’t you?”
“He’s got you there, Sap,” Karl says, poking him in the ribs playfully, and Sapnap rolls his eyes good-naturedly and huffs, over-exaggerating the motion.
“Who’s side are you on, anyway?” He asks, and Karl laughs softly.
“What’s your name, dude? I can’t just keep calling you kid.” Sapnap inquires, turning towards the kid and raising an eyebrow, looking him up and down. The kid fixes his posture as if on command, standing up a few inches straighter.
“Tommy,” He says, and extends a hand.
“Tommy…?” Sapnap echos, prompting him for a last name. Tommy shrugs, looking down, and his expression darkens considerably, but his hand is still hanging awkwardly in front of him, waiting for someone to grab it.
“Tommy… Uh. Just Tommy.” He finally says, after a beat. Yowch, alright, touchy subject. He won’t bring it up again.
“Well, just Tommy, It’s very nice to meet you,” Karl says, reappearing at his side again before taking Tommy’s hand and shaking it, maybe a little too enthusiastically. “I’m Karl Jacobs, and the big guy wearing the hachimaki over there is Sapnap, he’s got no last name just like you!”
“Hachi-wha?” Tommy asks and Sapnap carelessly waves his question away.
“Don’t worry about it.” Leave it to Karl to confuse the kid within two seconds of meeting him. “What’re you doing out here, anyway?”
“What’re you doing out here?” Tommy snaps, suddenly on the defensive, and Sapnap has to resist the urge to tell him to chill. He can’t get a good grasp on this kid’s character- one minute he’s joking around, the next he’s acting all sullen and shady. Sapnap doesn’t know exactly what to make of it. And it’s not like it’s a bad thing; it’s just… odd. Odd for sure.
“I asked you first,” Sapnap says finally, feeling vaguely childish.
“Well, I asked you second!” Tommy retorts, sticking out his tongue, definitely being childish.
“Girls, girls. You’re both pretty.” Karl interrupts, putting a hand on Sapnap’s shoulder. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, we were just curious.”
Tommy looks away, focusing on anything but him and Karl, and there’s that perplexing quick shift in behavior, again.
“I kinda… fucked up,” Tommy says, focusing on his shoes. Sapnap notes that he’s in desperate need of a new pair, and files it away with everything else he knows about the kid so far.
“Fucked up... how exactly?” Karl asks, curiosity evident in his voice. Tommy opens his mouth and closes it again, like a particularly secretive goldfish.
“...A friend of mine… uh.” He starts to say, as if he’s not sure how to phrase it without giving too much about his life away. “Wait a second,” Tommy narrows his eyes. “I don’t have to tell you jack shit, I don’t even know you.”
“You don’t,” Karl affirms, and Sapnap resists the urge to roll his eyes. Yeah, no fucking shit, sherlock.
...But, surprisingly, Tommy looks weirdly comforted by Karl’s admission. Did he think they were going to force him to tell them?
Sapnap gets the weird niggling feeling that this Tommy kid might get along well with Quackity. Speaking of Quackity, the guy’s been non-stop texting him for the last ten minutes, which probably means that he’s bored. He loves him but Jesus Christ, clingy much? He feels his phone buzz again in his pocket and-
“Do you want Sapnap’s coat?” Karl asks out of the blue, making Sapnap jump and derailing his train of thought. ...Wait a second.
“Why my coat? Shouldn’t you be offering up yours? You have a perfectly good coat, you know.” Sapnap shoots back and Karl giggles and pushes him slightly.
“Come on, give your coat to the kid, Sap!” Karl insists, smiling. “Look at him! He looks completely drenched to the bone, like a drowned rat!”
“What?!” Tommy objects, bouncing back to being the playfully argumentative kid they saw just a few minutes earlier. “I look amazing! The handsomest, thank you very much! Better than you,” He points an accusatory finger at Karl, “With your stupid haircut, and you!” he turns to Sapnap “With you hachi-whatever headband!”
“ Hachimaki ” Sapnap gently corrects, already taking off the coat and holding it out to Tommy. The kid eyes it suspiciously, like it’ll bite his hand off if he takes it. Sapnap looks at him incredulously. “It’s just a plain old jacket, kid. It’s not gonna kill you.” Tommy looks at him and then looks back down to the coat, still held in his outstretched hand, and takes it reluctantly and puts it on slowly.
He’s positively swamped in it, and Karl, who’s been silent so far, tries and fails to hold back a giggle. Tommy, looking incredibly scandalized, starts to take off the coat.
“I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea, it’s stupid, this is stupid, you’re stupid, I don’t even know you, you-”
“Hey, hey, hey!” Karl attempts to console, and they all ignore how Tommy flinches at how unintentionally loud his tone is. “It’s ok, keep it. I think it suits you. Better than it suits old Sappy over here.” He tacks the last part in a loud stage-whisper and gestures with his thumb to Sapnap. Both him and Tommy chuckle at his quiet shout of indignance. Betrayed. By his own boyfriend .
“Now I don’t have a coat,” Sapnap grumbles, cold, and Karl reaches an arm around his shoulder and pulls him close to his chest.
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep you warm.” He says, and laughs at how Tommy pretends to gag in the background at their little show of PDA.
“Oh!” Sapnap says remembering what he was doing prior to this and pulling out his phone. He removes himself from Karl’s arms in the process and rolls his eyes at the little whine the man lets out. “I have to text Q back.”
“Q?” Tommy asks, cocking his head to the side.
“Quackity,” Sapnap explains. “He’s our boyfriend.” He gestures to himself and Karl. “And he’s been texting me nonstop for like, the past 10 minutes.”
He doesn’t even have to look up to notice the way Tommy’s entire body goes rigid, and it seems like he’s fighting for air as he takes an incredibly shaky breath in. He starts to take off Sapnap’s coat hurriedly soon after.
“Well gentlemen, this has been so fun, but I really ought to get going now. Places to be, women to woo, you know how it is,” He says, talking fast in between uneven breaths, suddenly seemingly very desperate to leave.
“Wait, Tommy!” Karl says, slightly frenzied and feeding off Tommy’s nervous energy, “What’s going on? What happened?” Tommy’s eyes dart left and right, all around the alley, looking for an easily accessible escape route from where he’s currently standing.
“Do you know Quackity?” Sapnap asks, narrowing his eyes, and Tommy pointedly looks anywhere but at him and Karl. His phone takes this exact opportunity to buzz again, Christ, if Sapnap didn’t know Quackity’s clingy ass better he would’ve thought there was actually an emergency. He feels the trademark vibration of another notification and resists the urge to spike the damned phone into the sidewalk- this stopped being endearing and started being annoying about five messages ago.
He types in his password quickly, fingers shaking ever-so-slightly, and opens up his messages app to find 11 fucking new messages from Quackity.
Q: Spnp
Q: spanpa
Q: Sapnap
Q: answer me, karls not respondin g to my txts
Q: wlbrs like…. majorly pissed at me LOL
Q: how’s ur date going w/o me there. probably 10000 percent more boring
Q: you guys get out of the rain? im in the diner rn thnx for asking btw
Q: i kinda definitely fucked up, wilbrs like PISSED
Q: he’s going on and on and on… dude needs a xanny lmao
Q: oh i should probably ask u even tho theres like a very small chance of this actually happening
Q: 1 of wlbrs friends is apparently out in the rain and hes like LEGIT freaking out. Got blonde hair kinda muted blue eyes. Looks like he’s 10 but is apparently 14?? Kinda a pissy asshole. His name’s Tommy. If u see him tell me bc i dont kno how much longer i can listen to wilbur rant
Sapnap looks from his phone, to Tommy, who, amazingly, hasn’t moved from where he’s been standing, back to his phone and then to Tommy again. And then he dials Quackity’s number hurriedly, listens for just a second as it rings- And after taking a deep breath, he starts to speak in a slightly hushed tone.
“Hey,” He says, eyes still trained on Tommy, who’s currently fidgeting in place. “I found your missing kid.”
Phil has to practically hold Wilbur from rushing out the door once Quackity helpfully informs them that Karl and Sapnap have found Tommy.
“I know you care about him, and that I can’t stop you from going out there and getting soaked, but please just put on a coat before you leave, yeah?” Phil, ever his dad, asks, having the good sense to at least look apologetic. And even though Wilbur still has a few choice words he’d like to say to the man, he humors his request anyway.
According to Quackity, Tommy’s apparently taking shelter out back in the alley behind Niki’s bakery, which is something Wilbur distantly finds himself being thankful for. He’s not sure he could navigate the twisting streets like this, despite the fact that he grew up here and has lived in the city his entire life, his mind is like a jackhammer right about now, and all he can focus on is Tommy, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy. He doesn’t even know if he has the mental fortitude right now to think about such inconsequential details as directions or street names when Tommy is out there. So close and yet still so far.
The diner is so deathly quiet that you could probably hear a pin drop. Wilbur determinedly puts on his raincoat, hesitates for just a second, and then fetches an extra one out of the closet for Tommy. Niki, who has decided to come with him, is putting on her shoes, and they’re both halfway out the door and so much closer to Tommy when Schlatt finally decides to speak up.
“So are we just going to stay here, or...? Because I have so much better shit I could be doing right about now.” And god, Wilbur really does not have the time or patience for this.
“Yeah, wait!” Quackity cuts in, having the nerve to sound slightly affronted, “Why can’t we come with? I mean, my boyfriends are the ones who found him, after all.” He puffs out his chest, annoyingly self-aggrandizing. Wilbur rolls his eyes, scoffing.
“If I show up with an entire posse of people, not to mention people who’ve all threatened his life before, I doubt he’ll do anything but run off again. And then it’ll take us even longer to find him!” Wilbur sighs, trying to keep his voice down. “You’re going to stay here, and then when I get back, with Tommy, we’re going to have a nice long chat, ok?”
“Fine.” Quackity concedes, and then Wilbur and Niki are heading out into the rain, hoods up and coats drawn tight around their shoulders against the cold chill of the early evening.
It takes about 5 minutes from the end of the phone call for Wilbur to finally arrive on the scene. His hair looks windswept, sticking to his forehead and blown in every which way. His eyes are red and puffy, swollen presumably from crying- Not to mention his raincoat is on inside out, and he’s completely drenched. (though Tommy can’t really tell whether most of it is sweat or just the rain.)
Tommy has never felt more conflicted upon seeing someone in his whole entire fucking life.
He loves Wilbur, of course he does. But he doesn’t know if he’s ready for the conversation he knows that they’re going to have to have after this. Niki isn’t far behind Wilbur, and she, at least, is someone that Tommy is undeniably glad to see. She’s lagging behind Wilbur but still sticking close to him, as if she wants to give them space but can’t help herself from hovering.
“Tommy!” Wilbur yells out as he approaches, and Sapnap, who's been weirdly quiet since he called Quackity, shifts on his feet beside him.
“You know this guy, right?” He asks Tommy, and Tommy rolls his eyes, exasperated. He’s not used to people being protective over him.
“Yeah, that’s Wilbur.” He says, fondness bleeding through every single syllable of his words. “I’ll be fine from here, If you wanna leave. Sorry I interrupted your date, or whatever.” Tommy mumbles, watching with mild amusement as Wilbur trips over himself to try to get to him.
“Oh hell no, we definitely gotta meet this Wilbur guy,” Karl says, ruffling his hair, and Tommy bats at his hand. “He knows Q, right?”
“That I do.” Wilbur answers breathlessly, and then doubles over, hands on his knees, and pants as he tries to catch his breath. “Sorry, give me a sec, I ran like. all the way here.” He gestures vaguely to the general area behind him “Came from Phil’s diner, you know how it goes.”
“No, can’t say that I have, actually.” Sapnap cuts in, not unkindly. “I’ll have to check it out sometime.”
He and Wilbur have an intense staring contest that Tommy can’t even begin to decipher. Karl simply rolls his eyes and leans his head onto Sapnap’s shoulder. “Come on, ‘nap, he seems fine. let’s leave' em to it.”
Sapnap is the first to break eye contact, and then turns to Tommy, squatting down to his level and placing a hand on his shoulder. Tommy feels patronized, but decides to let it slide just this once. “You come find me if this goofball gives you any trouble, yeah? I’ll put him in his place.” And then he’s standing up and turning and leaving, without so much as a backwards glance.
“I’ll take that as my cue to leave too!” Karl says, and follows after him, a slight spring in his step. Unlike Sapnap, he turns back to them and waves. “Bye Tommy! Bye Wilbur!”
“Huh,” Tommy observes, watching them go, and then turning his gaze skyward. “It looks like the rain has stopped.”
“Yeah,” Wilbur says, suddenly incredibly coy. “Just in time for me to get soaked, too.” He chuckles, but it's nervous and there’s no humor behind it, just anxiety that’s practically begging to be covered up.
“I brought this coat for you.” Wilbur mumbles, holding it out to Tommy, and after what feels like an eternity of avoiding his gaze, he finally looks Tommy up and down, really looks at him. From the toes of his beaten-down sneakers to the tips of his dirty blonde hair. And he smiles. A real genuine Wilbur smile. “But it looks like you already got one.”
Tommy looks down at Sapnap’s jacket, still hanging off his shoulders, and can't help himself. He starts to smile too. He smiles until he thinks it’ll break his face, and impossibly, he finds that he wants to laugh as well. So he does. He laughs at the bewildered look on Wilbur’s still smiling face, He laughs at the impossibly stupid scenarios he keeps finding himself in, he laughs at Sapnap and Karl, and he laughs at how crazy he probably looks. He laughs until he can’t breath and clutches at his stomach and he laughs until Niki starts to look concerned.
“You know those guys?” Wilbur asks, cocking an eyebrow, after Tommy has finally recovered from his little manic laughing fit. Tommy shakes his head, wiping happy tears from his eyes.
“I’ve never seen them before in my life.” He looks at the coat, still wrapped snugly around him, and then up at Wilbur.
“You think I’ll ever get the chance to return his jacket?” Wilbur smiles wider, if that were even possible. Tommy thinks both their faces might break with all the smiling they’re doing. He doesn’t even know why he’s smiling.
“With that little badly-disguised warning of his, I’m sure you’ll be seeing more of him real soon.” Wilbur jokes, but it falls flat when Tommy doesn’t laugh or respond in kind.
“I’m sorry I ran off on you,” He finally sagacity after a beat, and he forces himself not to look away from Wilbur. No matter how much he wants to.
“Oh, Toms.” Wilbur sighs, saying his name like it’s something special and holy and important certainly not just a silly old name. He reaches out to hug Tommy, and then retracts his arms just as quickly when he realizes what he’s doing.
“Sor- OOMF'' He starts to say, but he’s cut off as Tommy practically tackles him to the ground, unintentionally knocking the wind out of him. He hugs him tight, and it takes a second as Wilbur lays there, shocked, and then wraps his arms around Tommy and holds onto him tight, like he thinks that Tommy will disappear if he lets go of him. He buries his face in Tommy's hair, and Tommy can feel tears hitting the top of his head. And he realizes, distantly that, just as he had found himself laughing only moments earlier, they’re both sobbing.
He’s making a mess out of Wilbur’s sweater, tears and snot making a wet spot that’s growing ever-bigger by the second. But Tommy doesn’t care and Wilbur sure as hell doesn’t- Because when Tommy tries to pull his head away for just a second to breathe, Wilbur whines and pulls him closer and smothers him in his chest again. Tommy can’t even be mad. If this were some other time, in some less emotionally charged situation, he would’ve called Wilbur clingy, he would’ve feigned annoyance or jokingly pushed the man away. But for now, he can do nothing but sob louder and hold on for dear life.
It's a strange feeling, hugging Wilbur. Tommy hasn’t gotten many hugs in his life, so maybe he doesn’t have the best frame of reference. But with every other person he’s hugged, it feels like they’re mismatched puzzle pieces, not made to touch, uncomfortably being forced to fit together. With every other hug, he’s been desperate for it to be over as soon as it began. With every other hug it feels more like an obligation than something he actually honest-to-god wants.
But maybe he’s just been doing it wrong, up until now, though. Because that’s not what this feels like at all. He can't even begin to describe what exactly this feels like, all he knows is that he doesn’t want it to end just yet.
He feels Wilbur position his arms around his neck, and then he puts his hands underneath Tommy's legs, and with a huff he’s picking Tommy up like a sack of potatoes. Wilbur mumbles something about how Tommy is far too light, and Tommy tries to laugh along with him, but it only comes out as a dry sob.
Wilbur begins to walk, jostling Tommy slightly as he does, but still supporting him and keeping a tight, comforting, supporting grip on the underside of his legs. He can hear Niki say something, and he realizes that she’s just been standing to the side this entire time, watching their little hug-fest happen. He can hear Wilbur respond, another witty remark or Wilbur-specific sarcastic comment. But he doesn’t even bother trying to listen in on their conversation. Instead, he hums contentedly and buries his tear-stained face into Wilbur’s shoulder.
Whatever their relationship is now, brothers or friends or whatever , it’s tentative and new and oh-so-breakable, and Tommy can't get over the nagging feeling in the back of his head telling him that he’ll ruin it. That he’s too loud and too annoying and too, well… Tommy .
They have a lot to talk about, it seems.
That night, after Tommy’s been bathed and fed and laid down in Wilbur’s bed, with the promise that the man himself will be along shortly (because now that he’s actually gotten up the nerve to touch Wilbur, he’s been hanging off of him every possible second.) Wilbur goes downstairs, to his waiting friends and family.
“Is he oka-“ Phil starts to ask, looking guilty now that he’s actually had the time to consider his actions, but Wilbur simply puts up a finger and silences him in one swift motion. And then he starts to speak.
“Listen to me now and hear me tomorrow.” He begins. “If I ever catch wind of any of you doing anything like this again, to Tommy or anyone , for that matter. You won’t like what happens. That’s a promise. You understand?” And then, before anyone can respond, he’s heading back up the stairs, presumably to where Tommy lays, silently sleeping.
None of them know that he’s awake, ear pressed to the cold metal of the heating vent in Wilbur’s room, silently listening in.