“I’m sorry– I’m just– I just thought you could um– never mind, it’s alright! Good luck on your– uh– song!” “I–” Tommy deflates, curling into himself. “You wanna come in? I’m working on a new song.”

His eyes stay the same, warm honey brown every time, though - especially as they look at Tommy. Dark, puffy circles outline under his eyes, although they’re better than the last time Tommy had seen them. His lips are red, probably from some new makeup Niki had gifted him, and his cheeks are flushed-most likely from overworking. Wilbur stands in front of Tommy, brown curls dangling over his face as he looks at Tommy with a soft smile. He bites his lip Dream had always hated when he bothered him what if Wilbur was the same way? He knew the man was busy, so he didn’t want to be brash, but Wilbur always said to come to him-even for minor inconveniences. So, when Tommy’s wings pain from disuse, he knocks on Wilbur’s door. Soft-spoken, lovely, strong, willful, self-sacrificing, bold, tidy, talented, and sweetheart. Instead of selfish, Wilbur called him selfless, though he couldn’t hold back his attention-seeking urges. He called him clever even when he could barely spell a word. They’d all be true, so Tommy wouldn’t even get offended! He wouldn’t!ĭespite this, Wilbur was always praising Tommy. Dumb, selfish, loud, annoying, pathetic, desperate, attention-seeking, shy, scruffy, untalented and over-confident. There were a lot of ways Wilbur could describe Tommy. The troubled expression on Tommy’s face settles, and his eyes flutter closed as he melts into the feeling of being taken care of and loved. His fingers gently brush over each feather, swiping away bits of dirt and smoothing out broken feathers. Wilbur runs his hand through Tommy’s flight feathers, taking extra care with the area. Tommy could hear Wilbur’s gentle hum as he worked the knots and tangles within his wings, a low sound that vibrated Wilbur’s chest and made his heart soar. Tommy felt as if nothing else existed, as if it were only them in this moment. Wilbur’s touch is so comforting, a gentle weight on his wings easing the aches and dull throbs. The pain in his wings slowly begins to ease as Wilbur's fingers dance around, smoothing out ruffled feathers. If Tommy had known Wilbur would be so gentle, he would’ve never waited so long to ask him.

Each stroke is slow and gentle, erasing the knots of tension that had settled in his wings for so long. Wilbur's touch was like a bucket of ice to Tommy's burning skin. Tommy's wings fluff up as Wilbur brushes his hand over, and he hisses at the ache it causes.

Angel_wings renderosity