Work Text:
Tommy’s mouth was sealed. Tommy’s eyes were sealed. Tommy was under the blanket, huddled into the corner of Wilbur’s couch, invisible. Or at least, if he thought hard enough, he could convince himself he was.
Tommy wasn’t supposed to regress around people. It wasn’t allowed. Nothing was really stopping him, it’s just that, he thinks he’d never be able to live down the inevitable shame and embarrassment he’d receive if anyone found out. He was a big man after all! Big men don’t suckle on pacis or cuddle with stuffed animals. Big men don’t need to be held to feel content and happy. And Tommy is a big man, so he doesn’t need any of those things either.
The only issue with that right now though is that Tommy’s at Wilbur’s place, regressed, and he very much so wants all of those things. He can’t though! Because then Wilbur would find out and Tommy didn’t think he could handle it if Wilbur found out and then hated him for it. Wilbur’s never been anything but kind and loving to Tommy ever since they became good friends, but no reason can convince little Tommy’s brain into believing something bad won’t happen. It was scary!
The creaking noise of hinges elsewhere in the house have Tommy sucking in a giant gulp of air and holding his breath. He is completely still. Not a single sniffle or breath or other noise to possibly give him away. He won’t be found out, he won’t. He won’t. Tommy screws his eyes shut tight and crosses both his fingers and his legs. His cheeks puffed childishly with the air he was holding in. He locks his body into that position and refuses to move an inch as the sound of footsteps descending the stairs airs through his defenses. His brows crease and he holds back a whimper as they get closer. He can’t make any noise! He’ll get found! He doesn’t really know what he’s hiding from anymore. But it’s really really scary! He’s got to be good and quiet and the big scary monster will leave him alone! He’s safe. He’s safe and nothing is going to find him here.
-
Wilbur chuckles good-naturedly as he descends the stairs to see a lump of covers curled up in the corner of his sofa. No doubt harboring a mischievous little raccoon boy. He rolls his eyes at the thought, and a grin makes its way up his face as he creeps closer to the mound. Internally he prays he makes it out with minimum scratches, as the younger can certainly pack a punch when he’s startled. Reaching the end of the sofa and extending an arm out to grip at the top of the covers, Wilbur sucks a breath of air in before quickly peeling back the comforter and shouting out, “I found you!”
Tommy shrieks and coils in on himself, shaking and wrapping his own torso with his tail, ears pinned to his head.
The big playful smile Wilbur had had on his face is seamlessly wiped out as he looks down on the boy.
“Tommy- wha-?”
Tommy scrambles further back into the cushions. Burying himself there, hands defensively over his head, keeping himself as small as possible. Like he’s trying to hide. Like he’s scared. Scared of Wilbur?
A pang darts through Wilbur’s heart and he slowly eases himself to the floor in front of the couch.
“Hey, hey, buddy. It’s alright, I’m sorry I just- I thought it would be funny. I’m really sorry Tommy, hey,” he shifts forward to try and reach Tommy easier, “Toms, can you look at me?” He slowly and delicately wraps his fingers around Tommy’s wrist and begins to pull it from his head. The boy lets him, albeit stiffly, as his breath still rattles in his chest erratically.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m. I didn’t mean to- I didn’t, I promise I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry-“
“Hey hey hey, buddy- don’t worry- hey, calm down for me, yeah? It’s alright. You have nothing to be sorry for. Hey, Tommy. Please look at me, dear.” He reaches out his other hand to retract Tommy’s other hand from his head. Both hands now at his sides, the boy shakily looks up through his brow and meets Wilbur’s soft brown eyes with his own watery blue.
“Wilby. I’m sorry, Wilby.”
Wilbur whines something pitiful, and without much thought, Tommy mimics the sound, although his echoes something worried. Like Wilbur’s the one in distress. It makes Wilbur’s heart feel all the more pitiful, but he doesn’t do it again for worry of amping up the boy any more.
“Love, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for. Absolutely nothing.” He tilts his head and his own brown curls flick over his vision as he gazes about Tommy’s stature. Big wide eyes, and tearstained cheeks, his whole body compressed as if he’s trying to shrink himself. “…Tommy, is it okay if I touch you?”
He waits a couple moments, for the boy to look up and take a few seconds processing. Their eyes meet once, Tommy’s flick away even quicker. Then finally, he ducks his head and gives a sheepish nod.
Wilbur nods as well, and slowly and obviously pushes himself up to sit on the sofa. Tommy watches him from behind his knees. Wilbur smiles something reassuring and softly reaches out and settles a hand on top of Tommy’s head.
The boy doesn’t dare move at all. He’s scared, he’s upset, he’s confused. He doesn’t know what Wilbur will do, how quick he’d change his mind, if he knew. Until then, Tommy thinks, he might as well make the most out of Wilbur’s remaining affections for him. The thought does nothing to calm him, but it does leave him even more determined to remain still as the hand in his hair begins threading through strands, rubbing sweet circles and leaving small scratches near his ears.
His ears flick every time he feels Wilbur’s hand brush past them. Threading through the blonde fluff of his hair but carefully dodging his ears. It irritates him just enough that a small instinctual chitter leaves his lips and he slaps a hand over his mouth to shut them up.
“Aw, baby, you don’t have to worry about being yourself around me. You know that, don’t you?” Wilbur’s bottom lip juts out and his eyes crease in sympathy. “Tommy, sweetheart, can you please tell me what’s got you all worked up? What’s wrong, baby? Is it because I scared you?”
Every pet name loosens Tommy’s hold on himself and his own thoughts and Wilbur’s never ceasing pets to his head doesn’t help either. He feels warm, like he can almost forget he was ever worried at all. But Wilbur’s asked him a question and he should answer his question so he’s not worried about him.
“Noe, Wilby. You didunt do anyting wrong. I did. I have been bad. I’m not sposed to want baby tings. I’m not allowed.”
This does little more than throw Wilbur for a loop. He doesn’t hesitate to reply, though as to not make him any more nervous.
“That’s okay, Tommy. What do you mean baby things? You want some- baby things, I mean-?” He stammers, petting his hand over to the side where it drifts over Tommy’s ear and he immediately purrs in response.
That gives Wilbur pause as his hand hovers in the air again. Slowly, he curls his fingers down to place them around Tommy’s ear and in one soft movement, strokes along the fluffy backsides of his ears. Tommy’s eyes go slack and his purrs rattle slightly louder. Wilbur does everything in his power not to coo.
Tommy shakes his head side to side really fast, trying to rid his throat of its continuous rumbling purrs. He can’t help it, he knows, his instincts don’t know that he’s trying to hide things from Wilbur, and neither does his cotton stuffed head.
“Am jus- lil righ, now. I’m sowwy. Can chu, can you please not be mad wit me?”
He grips at his own hands and weaves them through one another, Wilbur’s pets to his ear have stopped again and it only heightens his anxiety more.
“…I’m sowwy.” He adds once more, for good measure, just in case Wilbur didn’t hear.
Wilbur’s brain runs slow. Hand pausing in midair once more, and computer fans whirring in preparation for take off in the back of his mind. White noise, is all his thoughts seem to come to. What? He gains focus with his eyes and immediately all he can see is Tommy’s shaking nervous form— and it swipes away all the cobwebs in the attic and it reboots his systems as he reaches out without much coherent thought and cups Tommy’s face into his hands.
“Love- it’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay, I promise. You said you’re little? Yeah?”
Tommy nods into his hands, warmed cheeks brushing against his fingertips with the motion and Tommy bites back another purr at the touch. His tail flicks restlessly behind him.
“Okay. That’s okay. How- like. You’re- how little- are you?” He smiles awkwardly and takes to tracing Tommy’s cheekbones with each of his thumbs.
Tommy’s cheeks grow warmer and he hesitantly lifts up one hand in a closed fist.
“Bu-but! I ca- still tak! It jus feels not goo-! Don worwy! Yu don haf to worwy abou- me!”
Wilbur cooes aloud this time, hands squeezing delicately where they rest on Tommy’s cheeks, leaning down to place a big lingering kiss on his forehead.
“Aww, baby-“ he smiles with upturned brows as he pulls back, “you don’t have to try and be big! Especially when you’re so so so , small .” He croons, tousling Tommy’s head slightly by moving his hands up and down at different times, squishing him affectionately.
Tommy whines and a chitter and soft rumbling sound follow it. He squints his eyes shut as Wilbur’s hold on his face is ever so slightly more, and the second it loosens he blinks them open and bares his widened baby blue eyes to the world. Innocent, and hopeful, and trusting and- Wilbur’s heart swells and he delicately swipes one hand over top of Tommy’s forehead before he rests it on his ear and leans forward to peck a couple more kisses into Tommy’s hairline. He wraps an arm around Tommy’s back and he rubs his hand back and forth along the soft fluff of his ears and they go mush under his ministrations as Tommy goes boneless in his hold. Purrs and chitters vibrate through the boy’s chest, lacing up his throat and leaving a soft thrumming all the way to where Wilbur’s forehead is rested against his and to where his hand still lovingly caresses his ear. The other ear flicks and Wilbur lets out a delirious sort of giggle as he feels it against his head.
Wilbur’s arm that’d rest just behind Tommy head to allow him access to that closest ear, shifts over to encompass Tommy’s whole head into the crook of his elbow as he brings his hand up to Tommy’s other restless ear. He scratches along the base of it and carries on to rub along the fluff of the outsides. He delights in the way Tommy’s purrs pick up thrice fold.
“You’re just a little guy, huh?” He mumbles to himself, “just a sweet little baby raccoon.” The thought hangs painfully above his throat, so he presses five more kisses to Tommy’s head to ease the pressure.
Soon, he must pull back just slightly, and immediately once he’s done so, Tommy’s eyes snap open from his half dozed state and he desperately claws at him to pull him back. Wilbur smiles adoringly and brings Tommy up to his chest so he can wrap his arms under his legs and heft him up and off the couch, held securely in his arms. Tommy’s tail jerks at the sudden altitude and it quickly winds itself around Wilbur’s forearm. Tommy nuzzles, from where he’s nestled in his grip, into his chest, content. Utterly.
Wilbur kisses his head once more, then turns around to walk them both into the kitchen where he shuffles about again.
Tommy groans a little and flicks open his eyes to watch Wilbur’s face as he seemingly searches for… something.
Tommy reaches up a mostly curled hand and knocks it weakly against Wilbur’s chin. When Wilbur’s eyes shine down at him Tommy tilts his head in question, his throat too heavy to speak now.
Wilbur raises his eyebrows in realization, “Oh! I’m just getting you something to eat, baby.” He smiles, knocking their heads together momentarily. “You didn’t eat anything earlier, did you?” The statement was stern, but his tone was never anything but soft. Tommy ducks his head, warranting another kiss to it from Wilbur.
“That’s alright, little one. I know you must’ve been so stressed. I’m so glad you told me. I want to do anything I can to take care of my little baby brother Toms.”
Tommy beams at the affection and returns it by sitting up and rubbing his own cheek against Wilbur’s. Chittering and purring softly the whole while.
Wilbur spares him a fond glance before scooping into his swiftly freed hand some ingredients he’d been scuffling for this whole while. Cinnamon, vanilla extract, sugar, honey, and an apple he planned on cutting up after he’s set Tommy down far away from any sort of knife.
Carefully and skillfully shifting over to stand in front of the stove, Wilbur reaches a hand up into the cabinet above and grabs a pot. He brings it down and places it upon one of the burners as he slowly flicks the dial up a couple notches to begin heating it up. Quick feeble dread flies through him a moment as he realizes he hasn’t even poured milk into the pot yet and so he quickly turns the dial back off and shuffles to tug a jug of milk from the fridge. He twists off the cap, pours a decent portion into the pot, and kickstarts the burner once more. Tommy all the while had been droopily laying against him with his hand pulled up to his mouth. Eyes half-lidded and ears flicking periodically as if for entertainment.
Wilbur chuckles softly, “One minute baby, I promise this won’t take too long. And then we can go back and sit on the couch and watch anything you want.”
Tommy’s eyes flick up to his once more and the sleep pulled joyful look in them brings tears to Wilbur’s own.
“Anything you want.” He says again, mostly to himself this time.
An internal timer goes off at him and he snaps out of his love-dazed stupor to pour the ingredients in. Once he’s finished that and gradually stirred them all together, he turns off the heat and swiftly moves to the kitchen island to set Tommy down in one of the stools. He whines the whole way out of Wilbur’s arms, but Wilbur can do little more than shoot him an apologetic look as he quickly returns to his food where he grabs at the previously discarded apple and begins to chop it into bite sized slices for Tommy to eat. Once he’s big enough to try to, that is. He hopes that’s soon as much as he hopes that it’s not. He needs to get some solid food in him, but Wilbur would love nothing more than to be able to keep his brother comfortable for as long as possible.
He deems the milk mixture cooled enough for transfer and darts over to his lower, least used cabinets where he keeps old emergency supplies from when he’d have to spontaneously babysit the neighbor’s kid. He grabs a bottle and a pacifier from the small collection there and rinses them both under cold water from the kitchen sink. Clean enough, he turns to pour the angel milk into the bottle, temporarily setting the paci on the counter.
Evidently it is within Tommy’s line of sight, if the sudden uproar of babbles was anything to go by. He flicks a gaze over his shoulder at the little one to see his pupils widened and expression disbelieving as he’s laser focused in on the pacifier. Wilbur grins excitedly from his excitement, but can’t help but feel a little mournful as well. Has Tommy not ever had anything to indulge his little state before? Not even a simple little pacifier? He frowns as he finishes pouring the concoction into the bottle and twisting the lid on top.
No matter. He’ll just have to spoil the hell out of his little baby raccoon then.
He turns around cheerily with the bottle stuck out in a presenting manner. Tommy giggles and claps for him. Wilbur feels giddy at it.
“Alright baby Toms, comfy little step number one: is- com-plete!”
He sweeps Tommy up from the stool and into his arms. Walking them both back to the living room where he deposits the bottle to balance against the arm while he sits himself down near it on the same end, with Tommy placed on top of him. He struggles as he reaches for a moment for the remote to turn on the tv, but once it’s done he settles completely back into the cushions, remote in hand.
“What’dya wanna watch, sunshine?”
Tommy smiles giggly, and points one finger towards the ceiling of the room. Wilbur, confused, follows the direction up and sees nothing of note when he lands on it. Tommy giggles again, shaking his head vigorously side to side.
“Uhp! Uhp!”
“Ohhh!!” Wilbur beams down at him. “Of course, baby. We can watch Up!”
“Yaay!!” Tommy cheers, thumping his head back against Wilbur’s chest and somewhat knocking the air out of his lungs.
Wilbur sputters, but successfully pulls up Up onto the tv and leans over to place the remote down onto the floor beside them. Tommy grabs at his face for his attention and he looks down at him.
He simply smiles at Wilbur and krrts a soft noise before bumping their noses together and burrowing himself back into his arms, happily churring as Wilbur tucks him under his chin.
Wilbur maybe tears up a little bit.
“You are the most precious thing on this entire planet.” He rubs a hand up his back lovingly, “how did I ever get so, so lucky?” He sighs. Tommy smiles up at him and sighs too.
It’s nice. It’s warm. It’s safe. It’s theirs. It’s them. It’s home.
Wilbur scootches them forward for a second as he grips delicately on to the bottle and pacifier he brought.
“How about we get you fed, yeah?” He smiles warmly as Tommy eyes the items in his hand. He meets his eyes and he nods. Wilbur brings one arm up to encompass Tommy’s back and bring him up so that he’s lying somewhat upright in his arms. He brings the nip of the bottle down to Tommy’s mouth and he latches on and starts drinking the warm sweetened milk. His eyes flutter in a haze as he empties the bottle and Wilbur periodically tips it back slightly away from him so that he doesn’t choke on too much all at once.
Finally, the bottle’s empty and Tommy’s occupied no longer. Wilbur removes the bottle from Tommy’s lips and he just whines and reaches for it again.
“This is empty, sweetheart. I’ve got something else for you though!” He reaches back over to the side of the sofa and grabs at the pacifier from earlier. Tommy claps his hands a few times at the sight of it causing Wilbur to giggle.
“Say ahhh,” Tommy complies and opens his mouth for Wilbur to place the pacifier in before he closes his mouth around it and once more fully relaxes with the baby’s item. Wilbur awws quietly aloud as he shifts them both back to lying down and cradles Tommy close against his chest. Tommy’s tail tightly wraps around his waist in response and the boy himself seems completely content to let him support all his weight as he mindlessly shifts all his attention to the movie on screen. Wilbur has a suspicion those apple slices aren’t going to be eaten any time soon. Though, he couldn’t complain even if he tried. Tommy’s safe and happy in his arms, he’s safe and happy with Tommy in his arms. He reaches his hands up once more for the night to pet at the raccoons ears how he loved so much, and slides his eyes shut contentedly as he lies there listening to the responding noises of his sweet little brother.
Tommy thinks if he knew this was all he had to be afraid of, he would have raced to Wilbur in a heartbeat. No note of hesitation or doubt in his body. He felt so loved and so accepted. Really, he thought to himself, was there any better feeling than being fully adored by your own without condition?
As the movie’s joyful music fades into background noise in Tommy’s mind, and he feels both Wilbur’s hands stroking over his ears, earning a louder purr with each one, he feels one hundred percent content with the haven he’s secured here, in Wilbur’s arms.
And if later in the morning, Wilbur and Tommy walk into the kitchen seeking out a late afternoon’s breakfast, and they find browning apple slices strewn carefully on a small plate on the counter. Well, the fond look in Wilbur’s eye and the exasperated flush of Tommy’s face as he insisted there was no need not to throw them away, would have them both sharing bright endeared joy as they shuffle about to make something edible for the both of them.