Are we still brothers then?

Chapter II

Wilbur's currently peacefully trying to get the most sleep he can, after the absolutely botched mission earlier that night, when suddenly, a loud "Wil! Wake up!" and the sound of curtains being opened, followed by too bright light shining on his face, tries to drag him to awakeness against his will.

He rolls over to his side, and buries his face in the sheets, dragging the blanket over his head, in a futile attempt to escape the sunshine.

He starts to drift off again, but then, the blanket gets yanked off him abruptly.

"G've 't baaack!" He groans, sleepily.

The air in the room is too cold, making him curl up on himself, to try to keep the most warmth he can.

"Wiiil, it's ten o'clock already!"

"Huh?" His brain is trying to process what he has just heard.

So the light means it's already late in the morning, and he is still sleeping. Why didn't he-

And then, the details of what happened yesterday start crashing down on his mind (well, technically, it was early today, but Wilbur doesn't give a fuck) and he shivers.

By now, the royal guards are surely everywhere, trying to find him. He'll do better if he doesn't go to the town for a few days.

He blinks, slowly opening his eyes, only for a sound of surprise to come out of his throat, when he finds himself staring right in someone's face.

His hands shoot up instinctively, to protect himself, and before he realizes that there's actually no danger, it's too late already, as he hits his little brother in the face.

Tommy jumps away from him.

"Prick! Why did you hit me?!" He yells at him.

What a lovely way to start his morning, Wilbur thinks, as he sits up on the bed. He doesn't want Tommy to shout any more though, so he gives him a half-assed apology, which, honestly, is more of an accusation.

"Sorry, you gremlin. But you just stuck your face in my personal space when I was half asleep, you know? So it's partially your fault."

"No, it's not, and stop calling me that!" Tommy's cheeks are already red, and he's clenching his fists. He's getting angry really fast.

"Sure, child." Wilbur nods, just to provoke him even more, because he can't help himself, Tommy's just so cute when he's annoyed.

"Don't call me a- oh I hate you." Tommy frowns.

Wilbur just laughs.

"I hate you!" Tommy shouts, the anger clear in his features. Wilbur knows that Tommy hates when he calls him a child, yet he still does it, because it's his little brother, his baby brother who could never truly hate him.

Except if he found out...

He pushes that thought to the back of his mind the moment it appears.

"Come on Toms, you don't." Wilbur rolls his eyes, and then throws his arms open, waiting for a hug. Tommy lunges at him immediately, which sends them both crashing onto the soft mattress. Usually, it wouldn't hurt, but as Tommy's hand hits Wilbur in the shoulder, the pain explodes in his arm, and he clenches his jaw to stop a cry from coming through his lips. He... didn't really think this through.

But Wilbur tries his best to ignore the pain (he's done it so many times before...) because it's Tommy, his little Tommy, and instead, he just ruffles his brother's hair with his good hand.

"See? You love me-" Wilbur begins to say, but then, he feels the weight on him shift, and a moment later, a pillow hits him in the face.

He laughs, the sound muffled by the pillow, and he rolls to the side, throwing Tommy off of him.