Tommy Doesn't Like Touch.

Tommy doesn't like touch.

Wilbur came to realise this recently, after coming back from death.

No. Tommy doesn't like touch ANYMORE, he corrects himself as he notices that Tommy doesn't lean on anyone anymore. How he doesn't run up to Tubbo for a hug or how he will not pat Jack on the back with a "It's fine. You suck. Not everyone is a big man like me.". How he just looks sad when little Micheal wants to be picked up and starts trembling when someone get's too close, hand always on his sword.

Tommy hates touch.

But Wilbur wonders if that's true.

They broke into the pool area in Las Nevadas. Wilbur suggested it when they both couldn't sleep and were only boring their asses of sitting there and staring at the ceiling.

So here they were. Under watchful stars and in a city that had a party going on somewhere. Wilbur sitting at the edge of the pool, feet in the water and looking over Tommy who by the likes of it wanted to drown himself.

The blond was currently underwater hands and arms spread out like a starfish, slowly floating up and staying on top of the water for a quick moment before he repeated the procedure. Diving underwater and becoming a starfish. He looked oddly peaceful during it too.

"Why are you doing that?", he asked eventually after watching Tommy do it two more times and getting curious. Tommy never did that. The blond disliked water from what he remembered, always hissing like the gremlin he is when asked to take a bath. But then again, Wilbur missed a lot of Tommy's growth and forgot some parts of Ghostbur's life.

"Doing what?" Wilbur made wild gestures to the water to elaborate. "Ah." Tommy looked down sadly into the lit up pool.

Oh no...emotional stuff we don't do that, thought the brunette and was ready to backpaddle if it wasn't for the quiet " 'is nice" from the other.

"What?"

"It's nice. You know, it's everywhere. Kinda. Doesn't hurt me and I don't know. Just nice."

OK we will do the emotional stuff then. Fucking. Alright. Doesn't hurt. Everywhere.

Tommy. Hates. Touch.

Well that is a lie then. A miscalculation. A misinterpretation. Wilbur is a fool.

"Tommy come here. Sit. Sit fucking down. Out of the water"

"What. Why?

"Just do it come on. Here." He pats the place besides him.

He waits for Tommy to sit down. It was so awkward. It hadn't been this awkward before Wilbur died, before he went insane, before Tommy stopped receiving touch and finding comfort under the fucking water instead of in another living breathing being.

"OK bitch, I'm sitting what do you- "

"Can I hug you?"

"Wilbur what are you-"

"Can I hug you?"

"I-" Wilbur watched as the other started to tremble, bringing his arms up to hug himself or to protect himself. Fuck. Ok. He can do this.

He stood up and ignored the little flinch from Tommy. Went to get one of the big towels people used to lay down on to sunbath. Came back and started wrapping Tommy into it like a sushi, careful not to touch any skin. "I will not touch you directly or hurt you or anything just. Fuck. Can I hug you?"

If it were for different circumstances he would have coooed at the wide blue eyed stare he got from Tommy. Tommy, who looked so innocent staring from a towel and looking confused. Who's blond locks escaped the towel and were in his face. Who looked soft and vulnerable and not like a soldier but a tired kid.

"Sure?"

Good enough, thinks Wilbur and brings his arms up to slowly hold Tommy close. He is still tembeling and Wilbur makes sure to stand still and not to fucking move or else Tommy will bolt and the bonding time will be over and he will not be able to give his little brother the hug, he so desperately needed, or that he himself needed but no one was here to judge that.

And if Tommy moved at some point and nuzzled into Wilbur's chest and his clothes started to get wet, then it was because Tommy just splashed around in the pool and it had no connection to the quiete sobs that could be heard from him.

And if Wilbur joined in on the sobs and held his little brother closer then it was no one else's business but their own.