Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“One hundred is too much,” Tommy complained, throwing a hand over his face. He was curled up on Wilbur’s couch, while the man himself was perched on the armrest like some sort of lanky gargoyle.

“Fine. What about one twenty?”

“Wilbur. Look me in the eyes. That's going up instead of down, bitch, don’t you know how bargaining works at all?”

Laughing, Wilbur smirked at Tommy. “Well, I haven’t taken school in at least a few centuries, so maybe I don’t. Anyways, on your end aren’t you supposed to be raising the price, not lowering it? That’s how bargaining works, not… whatever you’re doing here.” He waved a hand dismissively.

Tommy looked almost guilty. “Shhhhh. No it's not... you fucking… immortal mosquito bastard.”

“Y’know, I love your insults. Have I told you that?” Wilbur grinned. “They’re very… eloquent.”

Tommy huffed, turning his head. “They’re great, Wilbur! How dare you? Maybe the hundreds you pay me are necessary for my emotional compensation.”

“The hundreds are a tip, not your legal fees.” Wilbur shifted, and let himself fall backwards onto the couch, his knees still hooked over the armest. His hair flopped onto the cushions, narrowly missing Tommy’s lap.

“You mean all this has been me arguing over what tip I’m getting? Not my hourly pay?”

“Listen, I can’t change your wage, can I? That’s up to you, Mr Independent Contractor. This is just me supporting local food service workers.”

“‘Local food service workers.’ ” Tommy glowered. “You think you’re so funny, Big Dubs.”

“I am. It's called having self awareness, Tommy. You should get some.”

“Fuck off.” 

Tommy gave Wilbur’s upside down face a glare, then reached out and tousled his hair. Wilbur seemed to enjoy doing the same thing to Tommy, for whatever reason, so this was payback.

Wilbur’s eyes softened and he smiled at Tommy. “Awww… you’re picking up my habits.”

“Fucking - the only thing I’ve ever picked up of yours would be that antique silverware you left on the table the first time I came here, Wil.”

“Can I have that back, by the way?” Wilbur sighed. “It’s an heirloom.”

“You said you bought it yourself when you were drunk and having an emotional crisis in the 1700s,” Tommy recited dutifully.

“Still an heirloom. It’s old.”

“You’re old.”

“Such a smart child, aren’t you? I haven’t heard that one before. Not at all. You’re the first.”

“I’m not a child! Fuck you, fuck you.”

“That’s also something I’ve never heard before. Especially not from you. You’re so creative.”

“I am, thank you, the ladies all compliment me on it.” Tommy thumped himself on the chest. 

“This is why I don’t usually mingle with children, y’know. So boring. Fuck you guys.”

Tommy scowled. “Being 468 is much better, is that what you’re saying? Yeah right. You’re just old. Real old, as in you should be dead and buried by now.”

Wilbur cooed, and reached for Tommy’s hand. “Oh, you remember my exact age? That’s so sweet.”

“Nobody but you would think that's sweet.” Tommy ducked away, sputtering.

“They should. Being old is cool, Tommy. You’re just an ageist prick.” Wilbur sat up on his elbows, and tugged at the collar of his shirt.

“Most people don’t get to look 20 for eternity, bitch. Nobody’s even going to know how ‘cool’ you are.”

“Well, yeah. They’d get all jealous if they did. Start making little clubs.” Like the Vampire Hunters Guild, Wilbur meant, but it went unsaid.

Tommy choked on a laugh, clearly picking up on the reference.

Wilbur made a noncommittal noise. “Look, I’m just saying, living forever is kind of neat.”

“Sure, if you like sorting sand for eternity and a half,” Tommy muttered.

“My sand collection only took me about 60 years to accumulate, I’ll have you know.” Wilbur beamed, clearly happy with his accomplishments.

“I guess a normal person could do that. If any person would count as normal after eating fucking sand. Seriously, Wilbur, what the fuck?”

“Is that worse than drinking blood in your books?” Wilbur snickered. “I swear, I’m a very normal person, Tommy.”

“Yeah, right, bitch boy. You’re fucking weird as shit.”

Wilbur gave Tommy’s hand a quick squeeze, and he frowned in response.

“Is it time?” Tommy asked. “You’re getting a little clingy.”

“I guess. I don’t know, are you feeling good?”

“Yeah, I’m doing pretty pog. Pretty pogchamp, even.”

“Right… want to put on some music? I’ll grab you some juice for after.”

A wild grin spread across Tommy’s face. “Able Sisters, Able Sisters.”

“You have too much fun with this, Toms,” Wilbur groaned. “It scares me.”

“What, you want me not to have fun while being your source of protein? That’s shit.”

“I want you to have fun… in ways that don’t assault my eardrums, how about.”

“No.”

Wilbur groaned. “Fucking hell.” He walked out of the living room, and Tommy picked up his phone to put some music on. Able Sisters… Wii shop music theme… all the classics. The first time Wilbur had seen his playlist, he just about had an aneurysm. 

The initial notes of the song started blaring, and Wilbur came back into the room carrying a big glass full of smoothie.

“That’s not juice,” Tommy pointed out.

Wilbur looked… proud of himself. “No, it’s a smoothie. See, I made it just for you. Strawberry pineapple.”

“Really? Can you even taste it?”

“Not at all. And I have extra… you can take it with you for later.”

“Food and bribery? You’ve gone all out, man.”

“I know,” Wilbur said smugly. He sank into the couch, pulling a blanket over his chest and opening an arm. “Tommy?”

He shifted to Wilbur's side, and rested his head on the man's shoulder.

"Arm or neck?"

"Neck."

Wilbur traced a spot with two fingers. "This okay?"

"Mhm."

"Right, now tell me to stop if it hurts too bad." He sank his fangs into flesh, and blood trickled into his mouth, warm and rich.

Tommy jerked a little, and Wilbur stroked his back.

"I reckon you should do… ear piercings…"

Now came the difficult task of not laughing while Tommy said shit like that.

He relaxed a bit, his words coming out easier. "You'd make good money, Will. This feels fine. I don't even have piercings, but I hear there's guns involved, that's more painful, for sure."

Techno would disagree, Wilbur thought. He certainly liked his piercings more than the vampire bites he’d accumulated over the years.

Tommy nuzzled closer, and Wilbur felt a surge of protectiveness, bundling Tommy up in his arms.

"Fucking… stop purring. You're interrupting my music."

Wilbur hadn’t even realized he’d been doing that. He let himself purr louder, just for the sake of it. His throat rumbled, and the sound resonated through his chest.

“Wilbur…” Tommy whined. “Wilbur, why. My Able Sisters, no no no no no.”

Patting Tommy on the back consolingly, Wilbur tried not to smile. That would probably hurt him while he was being fed from.

Strength was flowing back into Wilbur’s body, his arms feeling lighter, steadier, as he took in more of his sustenance.

Tommy’s blood tasted like spice, strange as it was. It depended on the person, that taste. It was never bad.

Eventually, he pulled away, and looked Tommy in the eyes. His head was drooping a little.

“Hey Toms, you good?”

Tommy hummed. 

“Do you feel lightheaded, or just sleepy?” Lightheadedness would be evident of blood loss, while tiredness was a side effect of vampire venom, which healed and numbed wounds. 

“...sleepy,” he said, punctuating his words with a yawn.

“Okay, good.”

Wilbur sat up and grabbed the smoothie, holding a straw to Tommy’s lips.

“Could you drink, please? There you go.”

He waited until Tommy was more than half done before letting him stop. Then he pulled an extra wool blanket over the both of them and laid down on the couch, Tommy clinging to his side.

Vampires didn’t need to sleep, but Wilbur liked resting all the same. He was comfy, his thoughts slowed down, and Tommy seemed to enjoy his presence. That was enough.

(He’d also taken the time to turn the Able Sisters theme off, which made relaxing a hell of a lot easier. Tommy would have to deal.)

-

An hour later, Tommy came awake, poking Wilbur in the nose before he even had a chance to notice.

“You little menace,” Wilbur said, poking him back. He laughed.

“How was the food? I’m expecting a 5 star yelp review, Wil.”

“The food was good but the customer service was terrible.”

“No no no. Fuck you. Fuck you. You’re a wrongun. I am great in all ways.”

“I’m kidding of course, you’re the best. 10 stars.” Wilbur crossed his fingers, in clear view of Tommy’s face.

The pillow that smacked him in the chest a few seconds later wasn’t exactly unexpected. Neither was the string of swears that greeted his ears. 

“You fucking bitch I don’t know why I put up with this you’re all weird and have fucking dietary restrictions and dress like a soft boy-”

Wilbur cackled. Tommy pounced.

Within a few moments they were both reduced to lying in a comfortable sprawl on the floor, Tommy because of exhaustion, Wilbur because he’d been feeling left out. 

He turned his head to the side, and counted scratches in the hardwood. He’d need to deal with those… eventually. He’d had this apartment for a few hundred years at this point, it needed a bit of work.

“Hey. Tommy?” Wilbur closed his eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Would you like to come to the aquarium with me tomorrow? I - I just happened to have extra tickets, and I know you probably have stuff to do but I think it might be fun. They have orcas.”  

Wilbur couldn’t keep the nerves out of his voice. Tommy hadn’t taken kindly to being asked things like this when they’d first met. He’d probably still think of it as kindness born of pity, as he tended to do. 

Foster kids were oh so wary of any help, which was why Wilbur had to dress his charity up as necessary for the both of them. Tommy might not even be a foster kid anymore. Wilbur had a sneaking suspicion that he had run away, that he was actually homeless.

There was a long stretch of silence.

“Why?” Tommy asked, almost pleading. “Why? Isn’t that expensive?”

“Huh?”

“You really, seriously, want to go somewhere with me? Me, of all people?”

“Of course I do, Tommy, I like spending time with you.” Wilbur sat up, and there was Tommy, staring in bewilderment.

“That’s not true. I know - I know you only care about me for my blood. Because it’s convenient, isn’t it? Fucking hell - I know that’s the only reason you’d ever invite me here.”

“Tommy…” Now Wilbur didn’t know what to say. “That’s not it. I like you, as a person.”

“I’m just a human.”

“Yeah, and?” Wilbur blinked. “Tommy, you seemed so comfortable around me. Can I just ask... why didn’t you say something about this?”

Tommy sniffed, and Wilbur abruptly noticed the shine in his eyes. “I didn’t want to ruin anything. I thought - I thought you only put up with me because you needed to.”

“Oh no, no… come here.”

Tommy fell into Wilbur’s awaiting embrace.

“Of course I care about you, Tommy. You’re funny, and smart, and you deserve so much. And I don’t mind that you’re human, not at all.

“I know lots of humans, they’re certainly more interesting to talk to than my bunch. I’m gonna be honest with you: I like meeting new people, and it’s hard to do that with vampires.”

Tommy giggled, choked off and quiet.

“I should have said this sooner, but look: I see you as a friend, Tommy.”

Tightening his fingers on Wilbur’s shirt, Tommy whispered “me too.”

In saying those words, he hadn’t hesitated. Tommy had cared about Wilbur for who knew how long, all while assuming Wilbur didn’t feel the same. It made something in the vampire’s heart clench, still and unbeating as it was.

“I’ll come to the aquarium with you,” Tommy said, all of a sudden. “I will. If you still want me.”

“Of course I do, Toms. Of course.”

Chapter Text

2 months later

A voice, deep and rumbling, broke through the cloud of sleep hanging over Tommy's head. "Wilbur. There is a child. On your couch."

"No shit."

"Why? How? Did you let it in, or did you forget to close your windows again? Bruh.”

“ Oi, as it happens, he lives here now. Tommy lives here now.”

“You’re adopting it?! At least tell me he isn’t an orphan, Wilbur, please—”

“I don’t know.” The smirk was audible. “I certainly haven’t seen his parents.”

The armchair across the room squeaked, and there was a deep sigh. Tommy cracked an eye open to the sight of a man in vaguely historical clothing and a searing pink dye job holding his head in his hands. Something about him screamed vampire.

“Stop being so dramatic,” Wilbur scolded.

Ignoring the jab, the other man continued. “You know what the worst part of this is? You won’t even let me live with you!”

“...You’ve literally never asked me, Techno, and I have to drag you out of your room at Phil’s place half the time. Are you really willing to move all your furniture, your clothes, your PC…”

“Wait.”

“Your five bookcases, your rooftop garden…”

“Wilbur, I get the idea.”

“That Michelangelo sculpture I know you still keep in your closet - which is weird, isn’t it? I’d say that’s weird. How did you even meet the guy…”

“Wil.”

“I’m just saying.”

Tommy was completely awake at this point, keeping his eyes closed and his lips slightly parted with sleep to make sure the men didn’t notice him listening. 

He was interested in what they were saying, that was all, he wasn’t scared. It was just… Wilbur was a good vampire. That had been sorted out a while ago. But Tommy didn’t know anything about what his friends were like.

“So this kid lives with you,” Techno, as his name seemed to be, stated. “Right?”

“Yes?” Wilbur sounded confused.

“Why does he look like he eats two french fries a day and nothing else?”

“Fucking hell - look, Tech, I’m working on it. Tommy just moved in, and he’d been living on the streets for a while before I found him.”

“On the streets?”

“I can’t be sure, but I found him scavenging through the dumpster like some sort of raccoon. I’m going to be honest, it was concerning.”

“I’d imagine. But you didn’t have to take him in after that. Really, Wilbur, you could have just called CPS or something. I mean, we aren’t in the 19th century anymore. And you don’t owe him anything.”

“I think he escaped CPS, Techno. And, yeah, I didn’t owe him anything at first, but…” Wilbur trailed off.

Techno sighed. “Okay. Never mind that, why does he still sleep on the couch if he just moved in?”

“Because he’s stubborn as hell, that’s why, and he won’t take a guest room. Get off my dick, Technoblade. You’re only criticizing Tommy here, not me. He had me doing even more shit like this at the start-” With a little click of his teeth, Wilbur stopped talking, obviously regretting the elaboration.

Tommy’s fists clenched under his blanket, and he tried to ignore the bitter feeling that took hold in his chest after hearing such things about himself. It was like they thought he needed help, even now. Like they thought he was a charity case. Worst of all, Tommy knew he could have spoken up, and this all could have been avoided.

“Wilbur… you haven’t fed from him, have you?”

The man’s voice jumped an octave. “Wha - where’s this coming from? Look-”

“You have, huh?”

Wilbur went quiet for an instant, and then he was speaking, low, insistent: “You need to understand something -”

“Listen. I may be slightly lacking in morals myself, but that’s… sorta terrible. Really terrible. The kid is thin as a stick. I’m phoning Phil.”

“Look,” there was a rustle of cloth, Wilbur moving. “Look at me, man. He wouldn’t let me do anything for him if I didn’t take a bit of blood. It wasn’t great, but I’d gotten attached and how else was I supposed to help him? You tell me. I did the best I could.”

Techno huffed, anger seeping through his voice. “I can’t believe you.”

“I’m not about to leave some kid to starve out in the cold, y’know? And now everything’s fine. It’s not as if you haven’t done worse, Techno, don’t be a fucking hypocrite.”

“My crimes against children are confined to words alone, Wil. Words and hypixel bedwars.” Techno was clearly joking, but his tone was still brittle.

“Techno… what the fuck are you suggesting here? You think I’d kidnap someone? It sounds like you do, and you know what, I’m not too happy about that.”

“Listen, Wilbur, you blew up a country once. Just saying. You don’t have the best track record when it comes to these things.”

Wilbur had what?

“It was a small country! And you’d been off assassinating political leaders left right and centre back then. Am I wrong?”

“They were really bad at their jobs. And you know how I feel about governments.”

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t need to hear your whole anarchist manifesto right now.” Wilbur huffed, and judging by the creak of the sofa, leaned back in his seat.

The next few beats of silence were tense as nails, and Techno was the one to break it. Tommy had started to notice the texture of the blanket he was laying on digging into his face, and he shifted a little.

“So… the kid. What’s he like? I’ll be very disappointed in you if you say ‘quiet’ - that would almost come off like he’s scared out of his mind or something.”

“He’s the opposite of quiet.” To Tommy’s surprise, Wilbur actually latched onto the distraction. “Tommy - Tommy’s great. He’s always doing or saying something, and he’s funny. Really funny. I can’t describe how, exactly - you need to experience it for yourself.”

“Huh.”

“Sometimes he’s stubborn - no, that’s not true - he’s always stubborn, but it's endearing enough. Except for when he won’t let me help him. I’m not getting over that.”

“...Huh.”

“Is it because I’m scary? I’m not scary, am I? Maybe my height is intimidating to others. Fuck. This is the only time in my life when I’ve wished I could have taken after Phil more. Being a manlet like the Angel of Death himself might have been bearable, you know? 5’6 wasn’t even a bad height until people started eating better. You and I, we’re anomalies-”

“Wilbur. I think he’s awake.”

No.

Tommy flinched, and hoped it wasn’t noticeable.

“What?”

“Yup, definitely awake.”

“Fuck, since when? Tommy?”

Tommy, panicking, shot upright. “I’m not awake - shit, fuck, balls - I mean I wasn’t awake. Until now. Oh wait, who’s that?”

He laughed nervously, and it must have been incredibly suspicious to anyone watching. Techno raised an eyebrow at him.

Wilbur looked concerned. 

“That’s Techno,” he said. “I hope it’s okay with you that he’s here… from what I understand, he just showed up.” He shook a finger at the other vampire. “I check my texts, you prick, don’t pretend you RSVPed. You could have scared Tommy.”

“I wasn’t aware there was a Tommy until today,” Techno drawled.

“Still. Still.”

Tommy sniffed. It was time to take action. “I could never be scared of anything, Wilbur, don’t petro - patro - patronize me like that. I’m the biggest man. Techno - stupid fucking name, by the way - is just some random pussy. I could take him in a fight, Wil. I don’t know nobody.”

Techno laughed, quickly turning it into a cough as he hid his mouth behind his hand. “Heh?!… I just met you. I just met you and you’re already this chaotic?”

“Tommy’s like that,” Wilbur said offhand.

“And my name is great, by the way.” Techno said.

Sitting cross legged in his pajamas (that was embarrassing) Tommy started to talk louder. “It’s not. I like names, probably because I have so many. Big Man, Big T, Wife Haver since I have so many wives, Dirty Crime Boy-”

“I thought I was the Dirty Crime Boy!”

“-Tommy Trusty, Tommy Careful Danger Kraken Innit. Well, that last one is my actual name.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it is! Do you have my birth certificate, Wilbur? Do you? Anyway, you.” Tommy pointed at Techno. “Your name isn’t nearly as good as any of mine, and I take offense to that.”

Tommy was proud to notice Techno staring at him in what seemed to be shock and morbid fascination. I am the car crash in slow motion, Tommy thought. I am the so-bad-it's-good movie.

He felt powerful like this.

“Tommy’s going to be sticking around you for a while, right?” Techno asked. 

Wilbur nodded.

“Right. Yeah. In that case, I need a drink.”

Tommy jolted. He wasn’t alone.

“What?” Wilbur hissed.

“Bro. I mean figuratively. Not literally. It's a saying, Wilbur. Though… you have water, right?”

“As it happens, I do. Ice cold, in the fridge.” Wilbur’s shoulders loosened, tension gone. His bout of… protectiveness… had left quickly.

“Perfect. That’s perfect. I’ll leave you two alone for a minute.”

Once Techno left in a whirl of silk fabric and pink, incredibly pink hair, Wilbur scrambled over to Tommy.

“You were awake for longer than you said, weren’t you?”

Tommy glowered at the floor.

“Tommy… Tommy. I’m so sorry. This was my fault, I shouldn’t have talked about anything serious while you were right there sleeping. I don’t know what you heard, but I swear, Techno means well. He’s just… awkward sometimes.”

“He was going to call CPS on you, so yeah, I got that. They’re wronguns, by the way.”

“I know.”

“Did you really blow up a country once?”

“...Maybe. Look, Tommy, we’ll talk about this later.”

“No,” he whined. “I need to know, Big Dubs. Come on, tell me everything.”

“After breakfast I’ll spill my guts, alright?”

“Fine. Fine. I didn’t wake up for this,” Tommy pulled his blankets up to his chin.

Wilbur sighed. “What will make your day better?”

“Hmm… hmmmmm… pancakes.”

“I should have guessed.”

Wilbur ruffled Tommy’s hair, smiling - and then his face lit up, the brightness level increasing tenfold.

“Wait. Yo! I wonder if Techno knows how to make pancakes. Payback time.”

-

They’d migrated to the kitchen in order to watch the fallout of Wilbur’s brilliant idea. Techno had been press ganged into cooking for Tommy after some sort of ‘life debt from 1857’ was brought up. He’d grumbled, but seemed to be a willing victim.

Tommy, whispering loudly, turned to Wilbur. “This is really your brother? How does he know how to cook? You don’t.”

“It was a phase,” Wilbur remarked. “A cooking phase. Techno’s had many of those. There’s a lot more to it than that, but all you need to know is never ask him about potatoes.”

Techno glowered at the both of them from where he was mixing pancake batter on the kitchen counter, fangs on full display. Whatever vampire god was out there seemed to have put them on the wrong way around, because they peeked out from his bottom lip instead of the top.

Deciding tact could be left to the immortals in the room, Tommy asked, “Why are his fangs on the wrong way? Are they like the fake glow in the dark Halloween ones? Did he mess up putting them on this morning?”

Sputtering, Wilbur took his glasses off completely and rubbed his face. “Don’t - don’t ask that. They just grew that way! And they’re not glow in the dark. Do you think my fangs are glow in the dark too?”

“I don’t know, maybe. They’re a bit sharp for that, I don’t think you could get them from fucking - Spirit Halloween, but maybe you ordered them specially. Y’know, like dentures, yeah?”

“Dentures - Tommy, stop saying cursed shit. Stop it.”

“No.”

Wilbur sighed. “How about a compromise. Say cursed shit about Techno, not me.”

“No.”

“Do you want pancakes or not, Toms?”

“Fuck off, Techno’s the one that has control over the pancakes here, not you,” Tommy pointed out. “And Techno loves me, okay? He must. Everyone loves me. The women certainly do.”

Finally speaking up, Techno said “I’ve known you for 20 minutes, I don’t - why would I love you?”

“Because you have common sense,” Tommy explained.

“...Right.”

“Wilbur, on the other hand, Wilbur just… doesn’t have that. Look at him. Look at his stupid eyes. Red. Such a bad colour.”

“You wear that one red shirt of yours constantly,” Wilbur argued.

“It’s a much nicer shade, isn’t it? Like - like tomatoes. Or a fire hydrant. Yours are red like blood.”

“A - and? It’s thematic.”

“It’s lies, Wil, lies. You don’t even have blood, you have to steal it from other people. That, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, is fucking messed up. How are you walking around right now? You should be in the hospital, they do blood transfusions there. You need one.”

Wilbur blinked. “Tommy… I have blood. I swear I do. Look, I can even prove it to you.”

“Wait,” Techno butted in. “Wait. What does that imply? What are you planning? Get out of my kitchen before you start biting yourself and contaminating my food.” 

He aggressively greased a pan with butter.

Scoffing, Wilbur raised a hand. “This is my kitchen, and that is Tommy’s food. You have no power here.”

“Nah. Mine now. And I’ll pour this in the sink if you start being sus.”

“Noooo,” Tommy cried. “I’m hungry. Hungry, and angry, and I’ll punch you if you do that, man.”

“Careful,” Wilbur warned. “I don’t know if he can land a punch, but he does bite.”

Techno wrinkled his nose. “He bites? He's human.”

“Have you ever met a human toddler, Techno? They all bite at some point.”

“God. That’s terrifying.”

“I know.”

The pan sizzled satisfyingly as Techno spooned batter onto it. 

“So,” Tommy started. “Techno. Technoblade. What is the worst word you know?”

“Heh?! What?”

“What is the worst word you know?”

“Uhhh. Uhhhhh.”

“It’s not a difficult question, Big Man.”

“I mean. I’ve never liked the word ‘reflexology.’”

“What the fuck.”

“Yeah,” Wilbur laughed. “Techno doesn’t swear. Good luck with that.”

Tommy gasped. “He doesn’t?! I can’t believe this. How does that even work? I can’t start my day without saying fuck, or shit, or pussy.”

“Do you have an addiction or something?” Techno looked disturbed.

“How dare you? I’m only addicted to hard drugs, class A drugs - don’t slander me.”

Pointing a spatula in the air for emphasis, Techno said, “Wilbur. Your roommate is feral.”

“I know,” Wilbur snickered.

“What does that mean?” Tommy asked.

“It means you’re a little gremlin, Tommy. A little gremlin child.”

“Fuck you, Wil!”

“It’s true.”

“No, it’s not. I am not a child.”

“But you agree you are a gremlin, then?”

“...no. A gremlin is a bad thing, right?”

“Yes. Yes. What year of school are you in-”

That was something he didn’t want to answer.

“Techno,” Tommy started, changing the subject. “How old are you? Older than Wilbur?”

“Oh yeah,” Techno said. “Lots older.”

“He was around for the Vikings,” Wilbur explained. “And the Mongols.”

“Not Ancient Greece or Egypt, though, or Sun Tzu…” Techno stared at his pancakes forlornly.

Wilbur groaned. “Fucking hell, we’ve been over this, Sun Tzu wouldn’t have given you the time of day.”

Techno rested a hand over his heart. “Yes, he would have, and we would have been best friends. Listen, if I’d known him I could have written his foreword for the Art of War, and then given him immortality… we would have ruled together, Wilbur.”

“You’re an anarchist, you idiot. Ruled what?” Wilbur laughed incredulously.

“Sounds like you’re in a parasocial relationship,” Tommy said. “With a dead guy.”

“Oh god… am I being bullied here?” Techno complained. “Not again. I’m the one who bullies people, this feels wrong.”

Wilbur grinned. “You are an orphan, Techno. You have been an orphan for what, 900 years? Turnabout is fair play.”

“Nah.” Techno turned away, getting a plate to put the pancakes on.

“You can’t just say that, ignore me, and expect me to leave you alone, you bastard.”

“I’m making food over here, don’t distract me.”

“I hate this.” Wilbur dropped his head into his hands. “Look, Techno, you like Sun Tzu’s writing, I get that, but he might not even be real. Like Homer. I read an article on this the other day, you know?”

“That’s nice.”

“You’re engaging in fan behaviour for nothing.”

“Leave me and my waifu alone.”

Wilbur choked on air.

Unfortunately, Tommy was too distracted to register the joke. His entire concentration was held by the pancakes Techno was taking off the stove.

There had been a terrible mistake.

“Fuck . Fuck. What the hell? Those are wrong,” Tommy seethed. 

“What?”

“Those are American pancakes.”

“Uhhh,” Techno bit his lip. “Yeah. Is there a problem with that?”

Tommy pretended to gape.

“Yes, there is. Wilbur, why did you let him in? He’s American. This is not okay.” 

“I’m not, I just lived there for a bit,” Techno said, and was promptly ignored.

“You didn’t notice until now?” Wilbur’s red eyes were wide, hopelessly entertained.

“Well, you didn’t say anything,” Tommy complained.

“My country of origin literally doesn’t exist anymore-” Techno tried.

Wilbur grinned. “He… he literally has the accent.”

“You didn’t say anything,” Tommy reiterated.

Techno’s gaze was flat and lifeless. This had taken all semblance of energy out of him.

“America didn’t even exist 900 years ago, how would I -? You know what? I’m going to use the washroom.”

“Sure,” Wilbur said.

"To be clear, this is just an excuse for me to escape down the fire escape. Don’t look for me.”

“...Techno, I am aware.”

“Oh. Well. Seeya.”

Tommy watched him walk by in a daze.

After a second, he said, “He seemed nice.”

“You broke him,” Wilbur said.

“He couldn’t deal with how cool and epic I am.”

“That’s one way to put it, Tommy.”

“That is the only way to put it.”

Tommy went to the stove, picked up Techno’s discarded plate and bit into one of the pancakes. 

“This is seriously good, Wil. Mmmm. Want one?”

Chapter Text

Tommy's formal induction into the Sleepy Boys vampire coven (to clarify, that meant the acquiring of the coven head's Netflix password and patronage and did not involve any vampiric turnings) wasn't an unexpected event to anyone but Tommy.

It started out as any normal evening with Wilbur did: copious hair ruffles, and disparaging comments on Tommy's age. He played his own part in the chaos, as he usually did, by asking questions. Lots of questions.

"Do vampires go to the dentist?" "Do people’s blood taste different if they’re on drugs?” “Can vampires do drugs? I need to know, Wilbur.”

Wilbur would almost bend in half laughing at some of his jokes, and it made Tommy preen.

They were sitting out on Wilbur’s balcony, Tommy guzzling a can of coke while the vampire watered his plants - ones Techno and his father (sire? That was the right term, wasn’t it? Tommy couldn’t remember) Phil kept forcing on him.

“I can barely keep a cactus alive,” Wilbur complained. “They’re expecting so much of me. At least they haven’t decided I need a pet too.”

“I believe in you,” Tommy said. “You’re keeping me alive, yeah? That’s pretty much the same thing.”

Wilbur sputtered. “Well, you ask when you need more sunlight, or water, or - or discord nitro.”

Tommy had not needed discord nitro. However, he wasn’t going to keep Wilbur from getting it for him.

“And a plant can’t hold a decent conversation,” Wilbur finished.

“I can hold a decent conversation?” Tommy asked, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice. He immediately wanted to shrink away. Wilbur liked giving out compliments, of course he’d tell him that.

“Yeah, Tommy, you can,” Wilbur said softly, looking up from where he was leaning over a planter of marigolds. 

“I mean. Right. Of course,” Tommy blustered.

Wilbur put his watering can down, and wandered over to Tommy’s seat. He put a hand on the human’s shoulder, and looked him dead in the eyes.

“Alright, it’s hug time now. For no reason at all.”

“Not hug time!” Tommy cried.

“Terrible, I know. How will you ever live?”

"Well, fuck it, maybe I won't. You’re not alive, and you get by somehow."

"You accept your fate? Really?" Wilbur leaned in and circled his arms around Tommy's torso.

"I… no. No. I'll never surrender, not to the likes of you, you fucker!"

Tommy thumped Wilbur on the back a few times for good measure, and got tickled in retribution. 

"Not the sides.. mercy, Wil, mercy!”

"But I want hugs," Wilbur said, humming happily. "This is the only way."

He squeezed into Tommy’s seat, and it creaked in a way that wasn’t promising for its future stability.

“You’re going to break the chair!” Tommy yelled.

“Oh well.”

Tommy muttered something angry under his breath, a smile forming on his face against his will.

“What was that?”

“I said, you’re a-”

“Bitch? Pussy? Dick? Yeah, I can fill in the blanks, Tommy.”

Tommy huffed. Wilbur gave him a little squeeze around the shoulders and stroked his hair, and he couldn’t help but lean into the embrace.

Eventually pulling away, Wilbur’s expression turned thoughtful.

"Hey, Tommy… I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something. Might as well do it now, right? I'm going to be away for a bit, a few weeks from now."

“What? You are?”

“Yeah, y’know, my friend slash son slash nemesis is graduating university, and I wanted to be around for him.”

“Your what? Who?”

“There’s this kid, Fundy, he just got a computer science degree. I almost adopted him when he was younger, but instead I got indicted for identity fraud.”

Tommy’s eyes widened. “Uhhhh. What?”

“Yeah, you see Tommy, most people age.” Wilbur shook his head in despair. “I need a new name every 15 years or so or people get confused as to why I still look like I'm in my 20s. And, can I just say, be careful who you buy an identity off of, because some of them do a crap job of making them! Then you wander into a government office, and they start to ask all these questions….”

“Did you go to jail?”

“No.” Wilbur coughed. “I just fled the country for a while.”

“What does that mean, Wil? What do you mean?”

“It means I lived in people’s basements for 3 years.. Schlatt’s is especially creepy.”

“Who’s Schlatt?”

“Ah, nobody. Don’t worry about it.” Wilbur waved a hand in dismissal.

“So, you’re leaving?” Tommy asked, circling back around to Wilbur’s main revelation. “Do you have to? For how long?”

“Just like a week or so.”

Tommy scowled.

“Are you going to be lonely?” Wilbur wondered, obviously concerned.

“No! I’m a big man, I don’t need anyone else!”

“You must have friends, right? Couldn’t you stay with them?”

Tommy looked away, and bit his lip.

Wilbur’s mouth opened in an expression of realization and he straightened up. “Tommy…”

“Oi! Don’t - don’t look at me like that, you ass, don’t look all sad. I don’t need friends. Fuck you, I’m doing great, and I’m not going to be lonely at all. You can leave me here for months, I don’t care, I’ll - I’ll have the best fucking time all by myself.” His voice cracked.

“But you go out during the day quite a bit… I thought you must be visiting people.”

“I didn’t want to bother you every moment of every day,” Tommy murmured. Louder, he spoke, “Puffy always said walks were healthy.”

“I’m not bothered by you, ever,” Wilbur said firmly. He reached for Tommy’s hand, and held it in a tight grip.

“I - right. You’re weird, Wil. A real weirdo.”

“I’m not,” Wilbur said, and left it at that. “So… there’s no way I’m leaving you here alone. No way. What I’m thinking now is that you could stay with Techno and Phil instead.”

“Techno?”

“Yeah. You like him, right?”

“I’m gonna be honest, Big Dubs, I’ve met worse vampires.” 

Wilbur’s eyebrow twitched. The only other vampire Tommy had met was him. “I - okay. So that would work?”

“Would I have to…” Tommy put a hand over his neck, brushing over the spot where Wilbur used to feed from. His blue eyes held some indescribable emotion.

“No. No, Tommy, of course not.”

“But it’d only be fair…”

“No.”

“Okay then. I guess I’ll go along with your genius plans, you prick. It’s not because I want company, though.”

“Of course not, you’re completely self sufficient and a total introvert and a loner,” Wilbur said, nodding sagely.

“Exactly,” Tommy crowed. “See, Wil, all I actually want out of this is to make fun of your brother, since he’s a bitch and all. Techno won’t know what hit him!”

Wilbur, fully willing to go along with this pretense if it helped Tommy feel better, agreed. “Yo! …Let’s see if you can fully traumatize him this time.”

“Yeahhhh!” 

Tommy and Wilbur grinned at each other, united in their wish to see Techno fall. It was a worthy cause.

-

“You’re not Techno,” Tommy accused as the door to Phil’s house opened, 3 weeks later. Wilbur stood beside him, a hand on his shoulder.

“No, I’m not. I’m Phil. Hiya, mate.” The man waved.

Tommy blinked, and glared in scrutiny at him. “You’re really a vampire? You’re all short and shit. And blond.” The house didn’t fit expectations either, come to think of it. The walls were painted a pale green, cheery and bright.

“What?”

“Yeah, aren’t you supposed to be tall, dark, and mysterious? That’s the tagline, isn’t it? At least Techno and Wilbur fit… two of the three.”

“Thanks, Toms,” Wilbur said, and stuck his hand over Tommy’s mouth. “Hey, Phil, nice seeing you. Is Techno here? I figured he could do the tour.”

Phil scratched the back of his head. “Oh. Right. Funny story, mate, Techno had to go in to work today. Dream came by.”

“Fuck.”

Tommy, fed up with his forced silence, opened his mouth and licked Wilbur’s palm. The man pulled away immediately, screeching in disgust. 

“Ew! Tommy! Don’t!”

“Techno’s at work?” Tommy demanded. “Why? Where does he work? Why does he work? I thought you were all rich fuckers, with the immortality and all.”

Phil laughed. “Not really, mate. Techno and Wilbur have no sense of budgeting.”

“I - I do,” Wilbur said, still wiping his hand on his pants. “I swear I do.”

“Yeah… that’s not true. I know you.”

“Wilbur does hand out money like candy, doesn't he?” Tommy commiserated. “He must have given me several thousand by now.”

“Wilbur,” Phil admonished. 

Wilbur groaned. “You don’t know the context here! There’s lots of context.”

“Not that much,” Tommy said. 

“Lots of context,” Wilbur repeated. He glared.

Tommy scowled. “So, where does Techno work?”

“He teaches people how to fence,” Phil said. “He and his friend Niki run the business, I think.”

“How to fence? That’s so fucking cool!” Tommy spun around to face Wilbur. “You know, I thought Techno looked kind of lame, but if I don’t tell him that, do you think he’d teach me for free?”

“I… maybe?” Wilbur snorted. “It couldn’t hurt to ask.”

Tommy grinned, and pumped a fist. “Yes! I’m going to be so awesome, Wilbur. I’m going to kill some bitches.”

“I’m sure you will,” Wilbur said. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time, frowning. “Oh. Shit. I’m afraid I have to go now, Tommy. Are you okay staying with Phil until Techno gets back? I swear he’s nice.”

Quieting down for a second, Tommy bit his lip. “Yeah. Yeah, sure.”

“Awesome. Thank you so much, Tommy. You can call me at any time, y’know?”

“Yeah,” he said, then hugged Wilbur tightly. 

Wilbur, knocked off kilter, almost fell backwards before righting himself and hugging back just as tight.

“You swear he’s not a wrongun?” Tommy whispered to Wilbur.

“I swear.”

“Okay… I trust you.”

Wilbur melted a little. He valiantly fought off the urge to coo, channeling his delightment into a hair ruffle which Tommy barely resisted.

“I’ll be back soon, Tommy. Have fun!”

“You too, bitch boy.”

It was, all around, a very Tommy sendoff. Wilbur adjusted his scarf and stepped back out the door, waving. 

“I’ll send you guys pictures of the Netherlands if you miss me too much,” he laughed.

“Do it anyways,” Phil said. “They have nice weather.”

“Yeah, lots of rain,” Wilbur said. “Good for vampires at least.”

Phil hummed, then stepped forward and gave Wilbur a hug too. “Bye, Wil. See you soon.”

“See you, dad.”

Wilbur turned and walked to his car, Tommy’s face somber.

“Well,” he said, shaking off the bad mood. “Phil. Philza. Do you have any drugs?”

Phil wheezed.

Tommy had the feeling this was the start of a beautiful friendship.

“I’m not - I’m not giving you drugs,” Phil said as soon as he could speak through the laughter. “Wilbur would kill me.”

“Is that your only reason, Big Man? Because Wilbur isn’t here.”

“No, mate, there are many reasons-”

Tommy had already kicked off his shoes, and was wandering down the hall. Phil ran a hand through his hair. Were all human teenagers supposed to be like this? Ranboo certainly wasn’t.

“So, what was Wilbur saying about rain and vampires?” Tommy called. “Here’s the thing, he hasn’t mentioned anything like that to me, so it’s a little sus. He tells me everything, you see? We’re like brothers.”

“Ah,” Phil said. “I mean, it’s not the rain specifically. It’s the clouds.”

“Oh yeah!” Tommy grinned, laughter on his voice. “I asked why he doesn’t burn in the sun and he said ‘It’s Britain, when’s the last time you saw the sun?’ That’s such a cop out, like shit, man. Where’s the dramatic tension?”

“Uhhhhh.” Phil tilted his head. “It isn’t there? Techno lived in California for a while, and all he had to do was slather on some SPF 80 sunscreen. The sun’s not that bad. At least there’s no sparkles, right mate?”

“You’re all - and I mean this in the nicest way possible - boring,” Tommy moaned. “So boring. What happens if you eat garlic, Big Man?”

“Hives, I think.”

“Fuck that. Hives are pussy shit, man. I want your skin to melt off like candle wax.”

“ O kay,” Phil breathed. “So I’m not letting you near the fireplace.”

“Where’s the fireplace?” Tommy demanded.

“I’m obviously not telling you that. You are violent.”

“Violent and deranged,” the human agreed. Tommy finally stepped into the living room, and gazed in wonder at a display of swords above a coffee table. “Are those….”

“Swords? Yeah, mate. They’re Techno’s. This is only a fourth of his collection, actually.”

“Whoa,” Tommy whispered. “And is that a grand piano?”

“Yeah. Wilbur and I used to play, but now it just sits around, collecting dust. It’s literally been untouched for decades now-”

Tommy ran to sit on the piano bench, and lifted the fallboard to look at the keys. It was beautiful. The wood was intricately carved, and he bet the keys were made of ivory. He’d never gotten so close to an actual, antique piano, and it was breathtaking.

He immediately started playing Megalovania.

“Is that -? No way. No fucking way. You’re kidding me.” Philza, who for whatever reason knew and understood Undertale references, burst into laughter.

Tommy paused. “Wait! You know what this song is?”

“It’s Wilbur’s fault,” Phil explained.

“Big Man, do you know what Tumblr is? Twitch.tv? Know any memes, Philza?”

“...Yes?” Phil said hesitantly. “Yes, I do. I think most people do.”

“But you’re like a thousand years old!”

“I mean, it’s more like two thousand now.”

“Fuck! You’re so old! Why hasn’t Wilbur put you in a care home yet?”

“Because,” Phil explained, snorting, “he’d be considered just as elderly.”

“You’re right, you’re right. The responsibility falls to me, as the one normal person here. I’ll bring all three of you bastards to the promised land.”

“That sounds ominous as shit, mate.” The vampire crossed his arms.

“It shouldn’t. I’m just trying to be nice, you’re supposed to be nice to the elderly.” Tommy stood up, and went to marvel at a quill pen on the mantle. “Oi, is this real? I could use this for so much fucking dusting and shit.”

“It is real, and that’s a great way to break it.” 

Tommy continued his inspection of the living room, from Phil’s antique Japanese room dividers (“Somehow I managed to inspire a whole fucking anime character while I was last living over there.”) to Techno’s strange armchair that looked like a throne (“This is why we have no money.”) to their newly acquired lamp (“That’s not an antique, I got that from IKEA two weeks ago.”)

Eventually, he got bored. Phil had a lot more random shit than Wilbur did, but they were still just items. “Do you have any snacks, old man? I need to know what I’ll be eating for the next while. It had better not be red kool-aid.”

Phil gestured to the kitchen. “Guess what, you can look through my fridge yourself. Techno went shopping yesterday.”

“Maybe he’s not all bad,” Tommy said consideringly, and Phil sighed.

“Niki left scones, too. Have fun.” He knelt down by the big flat screen TV in the living room, doing something—Tommy didn’t exactly care what, all he wanted was to eat those scones.

He gasped as he opened the fridge, because that was a lot of food. Wilbur had needed full written instructions on what humans ate, but Techno clearly remembered more. Probably because he liked cooking. What could you cook with just blood?

Despite the variety, Tommy still reached for the suspicious and familiar cardboard box first. Inside were a few dozen bags of blood, labeled and untouched.

“Double blood bag 450 mL…” he read. “Phil, what’s all this? Are you into some weird shit? …Wilbur only gets the single bags.”

Phil sighed. “Put that down. Please.”

“Fiiiine,” Tommy acquiesced. He peered deeper into the depths of the fridge. “Oh! There are scones!”

He opened the plastic container and grabbed one, then wandered back to the living room to sit and eat on the couch.

“...Phil. Is that… an Xbox?”

“Yeah, mate. Want to play Halo?”

Tommy grinned widely. “Philza, King, Big Man… I reckon we’re going to get along great. Of course I want to play Halo!”

-

Techno, exhausted from a long day of swinging swords at idiotic vampire hunters who didn’t understand the concept of work life balance, opened the door to his house… and was dumbfounded at Tommy, already standing arms spread in the entrance hallway.

“Techno! I just met the best man ever - did you know that Philza Minecraft is the best man ever? In fact, he is the only man ever. He let me play all sorts of video games, Techno - the only problem is that he’s blond, and that’s not very on brand, but oi, we can fix that later.”

Techno stared blank-faced at the human. Had he run over as soon as he’d heard the keys turn in the door? Why?

“I guess I didn’t have to come home early after all,” the vampire deadpanned.

“Oh yeah, you had work.” Tommy wrinkled his nose. “Phil told me. Honestly though, it sounded pretty pogchamp. You teach fencing?!”

“Well, sorta. Today I just let a homeless man kick me through a window.”

Phil’s distinctive laugh carried over from the other room.

“What?” Tommy demanded.

“Yeah, there’s this vampire hunter… he goes around and harasses my employees when I’m not there, and then won’t listen to me when I tell him to knock it off… I had to beat him up a bit this morning.”

Tommy digested that. “Did you kill him?” he eventually asked.

“Nah. Why would I do that?! We’re rivals, man. Not mortal enemies.” Techno hung his coat up by the closet.

“As if Dream is worthy of being your rival,” Phil said, poking his head around the corner. “He totally just fights you for the free sword fighting pointers.”

“He’s getting there,” Techno argued. “He’s… he’s almost a rival. Give it a month or two.”

“Whatever you say, mate. I’m just saying, you should make him pay for lessons if anything.”

“It’s okay, Philza, I overcharged him for the broken window anyway.”

Phil cackled.

“You’re all,” Tommy announced, “really strange. Tell me more.”

Techno, after unwinding his scarf from his neck, absentmindedly tucked it around Tommy’s shoulders. “You want some stories?”

“Of course I do! Fucking shit, of course I do.”

“Well… has Phil told you about his on and off relationship with the Goddess of Death? That’s a fun one.”

“No. He hasn’t. What the fuck, Philza!” Tommy squacked, a look of betrayal on his face. “I thought we were friends! You didn’t tell me you had a wife!”

Phil snorted. “You didn’t ask, Tommy.”

“That’s just something you tell people instinctively, when you first meet someone! I told you about my many wives, didn’t I?”

“Ah yes, all your very real, very legitimate wives.”

“They are so real,” Tommy agreed. 

Techno butted in with another suggestion. “After that story, Phil could also tell you about the time we tried to conquer Antartica in the 1800s,” he offered. “Or the time I tried to get rid of all world governments.”

“That one clearly didn’t work,” Tommy snarked, and Techno’s face fell, obviously disappointed at the reminder. 

“I know…”

“Tell you what, I’m sure you can fix it later.”

Tommy grabbed Techno’s hand, and then Phil’s, and pulled them both into the living room. They didn’t bother to resist.

“Okay,” he said excitably. “Boys. Boys, it is storytime. First, you tell me all about your wives and shit-”

“I don’t have a wife,” Techno interjected. “That’s - that’s simp behaviour right there.”

“-and then you tell me tons of embarrassing stories about Wilbur and all the stupid things he’s done, alright?”

Phil huffed a laugh. “There’s a lot of those stories, mate.”

“Perfect.”

It was warm and cozy inside the house, as Phil had started a fire in their old wood burning stove only a few hours previous. Techno’s face was surprisingly fond as he looked at Tommy snuggling into his scarf. The huge flat screen TV on the other side of the room was still displaying the ‘Rocket League’ title screen, only adding to the mismatched, anachronistic feeling of the room.

With a flash, Tommy realized that he was really, really looking forward to this week.