Wilbur is a sappy fuck, Tommy's come to realize.

Really, he is. He can't go 2 minutes without letting out some saccharin sweet words accompanied by his usual teasing. But more than anything; he's been saying I love you a lot lately, and it'll be paired with a ruffle of his hair or a small squeeze of his hand and— and this, simply put, is fucking strange. Not— Not bad strange, it's good, it's a good kind of strange, but Tommy hasn't had this before, ever, ever, so everytime he hears this stupid man express his love towards him, he doesn't know how to deal with it. He's thrown directly out of his comfort zone, but it's weird— because the words, when coming from Wilbur, feel comfortable. But It's just— It's a different type of comfortable, and— God. Tommy doesn't fucking know. It's all weird and shit.

If you asked Tommy, he'd tell you that he wished he hadn't ever said he loved Wilbur in the first place. At least he wouldn't have to be dealing with this now. (He would also happen to be lying.)

Wilbur stares at the map stretched out in his gloved hands before successfully attempting to get Tommy's attention with a small opener, "It's a long walk till we get to Snowchester, huh?"

"Yes, Wilbur, it's taking for ever," Tommy whines, "My poor— My poor little man legs, they are struggling, Wilbur, they're struggling, help me, Wil."

"You'll live. Don't be so dramatic."

"You are so cold to me, and to think that once upon a time you'd say you love me," Dramatically, Tommy bends his back and puts his hand on his head— You know, the classic I-am-a-damsel-in-distress-and-I'm-going-to-faint pose. "All men do is lie."

Chuckling all the while, Wilbur rolls up the map and gently bonks Tommy's head with it, startling the boy. "Oh shut up already. I do love you, but you can absolutely handle a bit more walking."

And there he goes again, the stupid old fuck, with his silly little words of love, and his fond little laugh that appears amidst his sarcastic quips, making Tommy feel all appreciated and shit, and— He's a real dickhead, isn't he?

Tommy, startled and feeling strange as fuck, waits a moment until the silence gets unbearable before spitting out a very awkward and forced "Oh-Kay." which makes Wilbur laugh even more. (Tommy really likes making Wilbur laugh, in all honesty. It's all warm and neat in a way Tommy can't quite explain with words.)

"Trust me, you'll be fine, Toms. I mean— If you really need it, we could camp out for the rest of the day?"

"No- No, No No No, Wilbur, that is— Weakness, Wilbur, a sign of weakness, and, and I am not weak, Wilbur, I hope you know this. You should carry me instead!"

A hyena-like laugh escapes Wilbur's lips before he manages to splutter out a "I- I beg your pardon, Tommy?"

"Wilbur, my life happiness- My, My happiness in life, it would be increased greatly if you did this for me. I will do a powerpoint presentation for all the reasons as to why you should carry me right now. I can be very persuasive, if you didn't know."

"Oh, oh, I'm well aware, thank you very much, Tommy."

"Very glad to hear this, dearest William," Tommy says, pulling a stupid face and putting on a fancy british accent. "So, I assume you'll do this for me-"

"Shut up." Wilbur sighs in— quite honestly the most fondest way possible. Once again, so sweet it's saccharin.

"Yes, sir. But—"

Wilbur groans.

"—Will you carry me?"

"No."

...He ended up carrying him.

Wilbur is very weak-willed.

Eventually, by the skin of their teeth, the two made it to Snowchester. It was the same cosy, homely town it had always been— with lights strung up between each lamp post lighting up the paths, and houses made of earthy-colored wood that produced a lovely feeling unlike any other. It was probably Wilbur's favorite destination the two had ever managed to arrive at, so he's quite happy to be there again. And although Tommy may have a bit of an affinity with city life, he likes it there too. Even if for the most part, he just wants to see Clementine again (though by the time they arrived, the day had passed— and more than likely, the dog and its owner, Niki, are asleep.)

And in due time, the two made their way into the hotel, not without the occasional grumble from Wilbur about how his money is wearing thin, or something like that.

After getting ready for a comfortable night, Tommy, mirroring the last time he had been in this very same hotel room, immediately charges himself up (like one of those little car toys you pull back before they charge off) before running up and jumping onto the bed, making sure to land face-first.

After trying to speak, realizing his voice comes out as nothing but muffled noise thanks to the pillow pressed against his face, he tosses himself around, briefly marvelling once again at the gorgeously decorated room. No matter how many times he stops to look at it, it all feels so absurd. "I don't— Ah, Wilby, I don't think I'll ever get used to this. Not for real."

With a fond sigh, Wilbur sits on the edge of the bed. "Well, you should start."

"But- It's all so weird. Everything is so good, man, and—"

Wilbur pauses.

"I- It's just, it's weird. You're weird. I think you're fucking weird, Wilbur, weirdchamp, weirdo, and a loser."

That's not what Tommy wanted to say at all. But he's going to roll with it.

"I'm weird, am I?" Wilbur chuckles.

"Yes," Tommy sits bolt right up to stare at the man, "Weird. Weird face, you know, you have a weird face."

"What- What does that even mean? What about my face is weird?"

"Just is. Weird face. Unlike me. I have a wonderful face."

"You have a childish face. Face of a child."

"No-"

" Yes, you have the face of a child, a childish face, a stupid-"

"Ohh, ohh, says the old ass man, with a stupid face, and, stupid eyes, you have stupid eyes, you know that, Wil? Stupid, get better eyes-"

" You're targeting my eyesight?"

"Yes. Imagine needing glasses. That's such an Ell moment. Take the Ell. Ell Eyesight. Loser. Four-eyes, I would even go as far as to say- Ough." Tommy falters, getting hit with a fucking pillow. "A pillow? Really? And- And you called me the child? Horrible."

Wilbur laughs at this, like— A full-blown belly laugh, as though it were the funniest thing he's ever heard. He does that for all of Tommy's little jokes. Tommy can't stop himself from smiling upon realizing such a seemingly trivial thing. "What else did you expect me to hit you with? A sword?"

"We could sword fight. I'd win, because I would."

"You... Yes, you would win, because you would."

"Exactly, you're starting to get the hang of it, now! Very soon, you'll even see how much of a big man I am, and you'll maybe even accept the fact I am simply better than you."

"One day, maybe. But today is not that day, because you are a child— "

Wilbur retrieves his comeuppance when the same pillow he hit Tommy with was appropriately smacked against the side of his head.

"Touché, child."

"Get fucked, adult."

A pause of direct eye contact is all that's needed before the two promptly burst out in childish giggles, because of course they do— with Wilbur falling onto his back during his fit of laughter, and with Tommy having to curl himself up, holding onto his stomach as he tries to stabilize his breathing amidst the countless giggles.

"God, Wil- I hope-" Tommy starts, shuffling around only slightly to get a bit more comfortable on the bed as Wilbur stands up with a light stretch, getting ready to sleep on the sofa.

"You hope?" Wilbur repeats Tommy, tilting his head to the side, smiling all the while.

"I- I just, um, I hope... I hope things stay like this, Wilbur. I really- I really am happy, you know?" Tommy makes sure to look out the window rather than at Wilbur as the boy lowers himself into the covers, "Travelling with you makes me really happy."

The shared mentality of you make me happy is unspoken, but known.

"As long as I have anything to say about it, things'll stay like this, Toms." The older man reassured, quickly walking over to Tommy to give him a tight little squeeze. "Yeah?"

"I-" Tommy's breath hitched a little, and Wilbur could've sworn he heard a little squeak escape the boy's throat, but he left it be. "Yeah. Um,"

"Hm?"

"Um- I love you. Sorry- Good- Goodnight, Wil."

Wilbur laughs again, Tommy having felt it against his face from where his head was pressed against the man's collar. It was a softer laugh, one of endearment. "I love you too, Tommy." Wilbur whispered, gently loosening his hold on Tommy to let the boy droop down into the bedsheets before he quickly got comfortable again, hugging a pillow in his arms. It didn't take long at all for the boy to fall asleep and that really doesn't surprise Wilbur much at all.

Wilbur wants things to stay like this too. Really, in all of his life, he's never felt happier. Nothing could ruin this.

Or, it would be more accurate to say,

Wilbur wouldn't let anything ruin this.

Tommy's so happy. Tommy deserves all the happiness in the world, and whilst Wilbur couldn't ever provide that, he's still making the boy happy. He won't let anything take that away from him.

Wilbur looks at Tommy once more. He's smiling in his sleep, drooling on the pillow he's got squeezed in his arms. In a matter of minutes the covers are misshapen and falling off the bed, but Tommy seems comfortable regardless, mumbling happy nothings to himself that correspond to whatever it is he's dreaming.

Wilbur smiles, clambering his way onto the sofa and resting his head on the armrest.

Things'll stay like this forever.

" Clementine ," Tommy sings the name like he's in choir, prancing towards the dog as soon as he sees her. The dog seems just as excited to see him too, gallantly leaping towards Tommy before the two collide in the middle, immediately cuddling, the dog's head resting atop of Tommy's own as the boy gives her scratches. And that simply left Wilbur and this other kind lady, Niki, to hang out for a while (to which they did; talking over some tea and biscuits.)

As soon— The very moment, even, that the two left the hotel, Tommy had one goal in mind, and that was to see his beloved Clementine. Wilbur happily aided Tommy in his goal so the two could gracefully reunite.

"Ah, well, it's really good to see him again! And, um, Clementine-"

Tommy interjects, "It's pronounced Clementine. "

"... Clementine looks happy to see him too." Niki smiles, a little overwhelmed at Tommy's energy, which doesn't surprise Wilbur at all. (Perhaps he's built up a Tommy tolerance or something.)

"Yeah, Tommy was- He was really excited to see your dog." Wilbur chuckles, not even bothering to maintain eye contact with Niki, preferring to watch Tommy play with a dog twice his size.

"Your son seems a lot happier than last time I saw him, I'll have to say."

Wilbur splutters. Distantly, the two can hear Tommy fucking choke .

"Oh, um- Tommy's not- We're like, we're not- He's not my- I don't have any children, that's-"

If Wilbur saw Tommy deflate a little after he said that, he didn't mention it. But he might've made note of it.

"Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry, you just look very familial, that's all, and I assumed. My bad, haha."

"It's alright, Niki, I suppose that's...That's fair, that we'd... yeah." Wilbur trails off, feeling Tommy's eyes peek at him from behind the wall that is Clementine.

"Well!" Wilbur claps, "Tommy, we should be going then. You've had a good 10 minutes with Clementine, and there's no reason we can't come back here another time."

"But-"

"Don't you wanna go to Kinoko? You've seen a town and a city, surely a kingdom is the next way to go?"

Tommy stares at the man, taking a minute to ponder.

Dog, or Kingdom, truly a hard decision to bear. But ultimately, Tommy decides to go with Wilbur, because of course he does.

"Are you all ready to go, Tommy?" Wilbur asks, jostling the bag on his shoulders as he waves goodbye to Niki.

"No, actually, I think you should carry me again."

"What- No, No I'm not carrying you again, Tommy."

"But you should ."

"No. No."

He ended up carrying him again.