SBI - His Curse of Binding

18

Wilbur didn't expect to wake up on the sofa with Tommy, asleep and tucked under his chin. But the daunting sight of Techno with a bucket of water in his hands and Phil watching with a bowl of porridge made the wake-up call more interesting—and threatening.

"Technoblade, if you spill that shit over us, I'm cancelling your sponsorship of that polar bear," Wilbur muttered loudly as he covered the blanket over Tommy's back and cupped his hand across the back of the boy's neck.

"Don't threaten Steve," Techno said, stepping forward with the bucket. "And it's tradition anyway."

Wilbur glared at him; Techno had a running streak of pouring water on people to wake them up when they came home drunk, with his first victim being Wilbur himself, aged sixteen.

"Dad, take the bucket off him or I'm calling Childline," Wilbur tempted, holding Tommy closer to his side. As much as he wanted Tommy to wake up cussing out Techno, it was probably not the best time for this to happen.

"Childline? Really?" Phil said, shovelling more porridge into his mouth.

"Try me," he responded with slitted eyes. Techno groaned and put the bucket on the coffee table, probably annoyed that he couldn't add another tally onto the whiteboard in his room (yes, the bastard had a whiteboard to count this).

"Good," Wilbur said. He would've flipped Techno off but Tommy moved a little in his sleep, burying his face into Wilbur's chest. Tommy looked even younger when asleep with no creases on his forehead, no crinkled nose nor exasperation that dulled his bright eyes. The younger boy seemed at peace, softer even—not that Wilbur would voice any of these thoughts (he'd rather die).

A smile curled onto his lips and he threaded his fingers through the blonde's hair, gently detangling the knots.

"Treasure this moment Wilbur, he's been acting weird with you all week," Techno said.

Wilbur fumed at the reminder. He didn't know what he did, well now he knew but it didn't make sense. Tommy's drunken words only added to his confusion. Ever since Tommy woke up from that nightmare and his screaming extended at the sight of him, guilt bled through him. Guilt for the unknown, for what he must've done to get such a reaction from someone he viewed as a younger brother.

If Tommy told him what he did without sounding fucking insane, then the darkness encasing his heart wouldn't seethe every time the boy flinched away from him, avoided his eyes and looked at Wilbur as if someone else stood in his place.

Not knowing what he did to hurt a person he loved was more painful than Wilbur would've liked to admit.

Tommy leaned into his hand, grunting under his breath. Chuckling, Wilbur resumed stroking his hair and Tommy hummed, content.

"He doesn't look at me the same way as before and I don't know what I did," he whispered, the smile on his face fading.

"He's just getting his dreams mixed up with real life, Will. He told me you were a murderer and something about a war," Phil said and Techno fidgeted from where he sat.

"Let him figure it out himself, he'll probably talk to Niki or someone about it," Techno advised, his eyes locked onto Tommy.

Wilbur frowned. "Why Niki?"

"They're friends, are they not?" Techno stated, his face and voice devoid of emotion. "Just don't pressure him into giving you answers."

"How can he not have answers though? There must be a reason for why he's suddenly acting like this to me," Wilbur rebutted, bitter.

"The brain doesn't behave logically, especially if it's Tommy," Techno replied. "As I said, let him do this by himself."

Wilbur swallowed down the possessiveness that crept over him, like the shadow that clung to the boy the second he appeared on their doorstep. There was something about Tommy that just bloomed yellow roses in Wilbur's chest the moment he entered the room.