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James struts into the filming room with nothing but a half-full bottle of hand sanitizer in his hands and a pair of glittery pink fairy wings on his back. He immediately walks up to where Jack sits on a bar stool, a mouth full of water threatening to spill from the man’s presentation alone. James makes no effort to speak and does nothing but bend slightly forward to lower himself to Jack’s level, putting their faces mere inches apart. Jack closes his eyes as his mouth full of water quivers. His eyes fly open as James smears the hand sanitizer across his face in a weirdly sensual manner.
“Mghmm! MMhhmm?!?!” Jack protests, unable to vocalize his objections as more and more hand sanitizer is smeared across his cheeks. Wilbur, Charlie, Ranboo, and Billzo stand behind the curtain, barely containing their laughter as the scene plays out before them. They were supposed to be out on set helping him, but they assumed he has it under control from how it’s currently playing out. All heads snap to Tubbo, who has to spit out his water and lays on the floor in a fit of giggles.
The outrageous reaction of Tubbo mixed with the oddly sensual way James applies the hand sanitizer to his face, Jack spits out the water, coating James in a thin layer of it. “Oh, you fucker! Now my jumpers all wet n’ shit!” James complains, basking in his victory and trying to dry his pullover. “Don’t get too cocky ya’ bastard! You still gotta get him!” Jack counters, pointing to Tommy and laughing at James’s annoyance. James puts on a smirk and moseys over to Tommy, who’s barely maintaining his composure at the scene that had just played out before him.
James pauses before the blond before leaning forward, mere inches from Tommy’s face. Wilbur goes from laughing to glaring daggers at Jame’s back, all while everyone around him just keeps giggling. The proximity alone has Tommy on the verge of spitting the water out, but he takes a deep breath and lets his held-back laughter simmer. With the blond’s attention on him, James slowly creeps his hand to Tommy’s side, hovering above his hip. Without warning, James pokes and prods Tommy’s sides, causing the blond to immediately spit out all the water in laughter.
Water falls from the air and audibly pelts the ground as James tickles the poor boy. “I knew it! He IS ticklish!” Jack shouts from the sidelines, throwing his arms up with a laugh. James doesn’t stop his attack, continuing to tickle Tommy as he desperately gasps for air between boisterous and strained laughs. “NOO! S-STOP! I’M NO-NOT TICKLISH!” The blond yells, writhing under the barrage of pokes. All while Wilbur has a dark glare on his face, Tommy always said he was the jealous type. Eventually, James finally stops tickling him, leaving him a panting mess.
His mop of blond curls falls with his head as he drops it against the back of the seat, trying desperately to catch his breath. The laughing from the people on the sidelines begins to ease as they get ready for their next scene, getting a drink and finding props. That is before Tommy finally lifts his head. His face is flushed pink, and small deposits of tears sit in the corners of his eyes from the pure force of his laughter. His hair is completely disheveled and gently shakes from the residual, sudden exertion; all while gasping for air.
All heads snap to Tommy, the boy’s lewd presentation causing Billzo to choke on his water and Ranboo’s jaw to drop behind his mask. The blond finally regains his composure after a moment. He takes one final deep breath before rising from his chair and stumbling to the curtain. All eyes track Tommy as he walks by to prepare for the next scene, bending over to dig through the box of props they had brought along. Wilbur’s fist tightens, the water from his water bottle rising to the lip, threatening to spill. Tubbo’s eyes widen, knowing what’s going on.
He had the suspicion for a long time, but last week it was solidified. He was hanging out with Tommy, and the blond had gotten up to use the bathroom, forgetting his phone on the couch next to Tubbo. He was initially going to respect Tommy’s privacy, but when the text sound beeped from his phone, he couldn’t resist. He saw it was sent from Wilbur and thought nothing of it, probably just a check-in or question. He was very wrong. To say the text was lewd would be the understatement of the century understatement.
The brunet started to freak out, grabbing Tommy’s phone and typing in the boy’s passcode faster than humanly possible. Both boys knew each other’s codes in case of emergencies; they also just trusted each other. Tubbo opened the message but nearly threw the phone across the room when a picture of the blond wearing nothing but a skimpy bunny suit flashed across the screen. The text was sent from Tommy himself, and the text that Wilbur had just sent was responding to that.
With a pale face and flushed pink cheeks of pure embarrassment, Tuubo quickly shuts off the phone and throws it aside. He has been unable to get that image of his best friend out of his mind since then, no matter how much he wishes it would burn away back to the depths of hell from which it came. “Charlie and Ran are next, right?” Tommy asks, standing up and spinning around to face them, his arms full of various colorful props. Everyone shakes themselves out of their trance, a few left with lightly flushed faces.
“Uhh, y-yeah! C’mon, Charlie!” Ranboo answers, quickly grabbing Charlie’s bicep and pulling him to the filming area. Tommy’s eyebrow raises as he watches everyone quickly scatter like a bunch of children who got caught with their hands in the cookie jar. He shrugs it off, knowing he has better things to do than speculate what his friends could have possibly been doing. If he tried to figure out what his friends were doing every time he caught them doing something stupid, he would go insane. Wilbur, on the other hand, has not shrugged it off.
With jealousy still weighing heavily on his mind, he inconspicuously walks over to Tommy. He quickly scans the surrounding area for any prying eyes or camera lenses. Tommy looks up at him with a confused expression before he is abruptly pulled out of his confusion by a sinful grab of his ass from the taller. The blond’s face flushes red as he squeaks, a shocked expression as Wilbur continues walking by. He tries to shake off the heat from the drive-by ass-grab before his pants get tight, so he just speed walks back to the prop chest and pretends to dig around for a while.
Things run relatively smoothly from then on out, although, the mood has significantly changed between Wilbur and Tommy. The next round goes by with nothing but half-lidded looks shared between them and some discrete grabbing at each other’s intimate parts. The only problem is that, the longer they go unable to touch each other, the more their tension grows; the more their tension grows, the more noticeable it becomes. Their touching becomes more frequent, and their longing stares only become longer. They start doing increasingly sexual things to each other with fading care of being caught.
Which is, understandably, a huge fucking problem for them. The excruciating tension finally ends when Jack calls a lunch break, offering to take everyone to a nearby pub. Ranboo, Charlie, and Billzo agree to go with him; while Tubbo, Wilbur, James, and Tommy said they would stay behind and wait for them to bring back leftovers. James and Tubbo want leftovers, but Tommy and Wilbur are hungry for nothing but each other. As soon as the group leaves and he knows the other two aren’t anywhere nearby, Wilbur grabs Tommy’s wrist with a rough grip and pulls him down a nearby hallway.
“Wha-?” Tommy starts, stumbling along behind Wilbur, trying to keep up with his hurried pace. He is cut off by the brunet swinging the door to a random storage closet open and roughly pushing him inside. “AH!” The smaller yelps as he is flung into the closet before the door abruptly shut with a bang as Wilbur slams his hands on either side of Tommy’s face. “God, I’ve been trying to get my hands on you all day,” Wilbur growls against the blond’s ear before harshly slamming their lips together.
Tommy immediately reciprocates, opening his mouth as the taller drags his tongue across the blond’s lips. A moan escapes Tommy’s mouth as Wilbur jams his knee against the smaller’s crotch, rubbing him in all the right ways. They pull apart for breath, panting against each other’s mouths, “Fuck, Wilby, I want you so bad,” Tommy whines, moving his hands down to Wilbur’s clothed dick. The taller grabs Tommy’s wrists and pins them above the blond’s head. “Not so fast, baby. We’re doing this my way; you’re going to do what I want. Understand?” Wilbur explains, whispering against the shell of Tommy’s ear as he continually rubs his knee against the boy’s crotch.
“What makes you think I’m going to listen to you?” Tommy challenges, struggling to hold back his soft moans in defiance. “God, you always think you can get away with talking to me like that,” Wilbur chuckles darkly, grabbing a fistful of Tommy’s hair, leaving the blond unable to hold off his moans any longer. “On your knees, now,” Wilbur demands, smiling as Tommy quickly drops to his knees without hesitation. Perhaps Tommy was a bit too eager, the quick fall making his knees ache.
“Shit, are you alright, baby?” Wilbur asks, concerned by the loud thud. “Yeah, I’m fine, now, stop worrying so I can suck your dick,” Tommy demands, trying to get at the brunet’s pants. Wilbur chuckles and lets Tommy do his thing, noticing how eager the blond is. Tommy stops for a second, briefly worrying Wilbur until the smaller looks up at him and smirks. Tommy nuzzles Wilbur’s clothed dick before grabbing the man’s zipper with his teeth and slowly dragging it down with half-lidded eyes, never breaking eye contact.
“Fuck, you are such a little performer,” Wilbur groans, his eyes darkening with lust as Tommy stares up at him with faux innocence and unzips his fly. The blond slowly trails his hands up Wilbur’s legs, feeling up the inside of the man’s thighs before leisurely unbuttoning his jeans. With one swift, hungry motion, Tommy drops the taller’s pants and boxers. Wilbur’s hard cock springs free, and Tommy practically starts drooling in anticipation. No matter how many times he sees Wilbur’s cock, he will NEVER get tired of the feeling of the man’s hard length pounding him until he can’t think.
“Are you just gonna sit there and stare or are you actually going to- OH FUck!” Wilbur exclaims, his grip on the smaller’s hair tightening as Tommy wraps his lips around his dick. With slow, deliberate motions, Tommy begins to take more and more of Wilbur into his mouth. The blond looks up at Wilbur with large puppy eyes that scream faux innocence, driving Wilbur crazy. Wilbur tries to hold himself back from thrusting into Tommy’s mouth, but he can’t stop his body from snapping his hips forward until he hits the boy’s throat.
Tommy gags at the harsh motion, digging his fingernails into Wilbur’s thighs. The brunet moans at the feeling of Tommy’s throat muscle spasming around him and his sharp nails nearly drawing blood; the feelings making him let out a lewd, guttural moan. Tommy quickly pulls away from Wilbur’s dick and coughs, trying to regain some air before going right back to pleasuring the man without a second thought. Wilbur throws his head back, “God damn it, baby, you’re so good! Fuck, keep going, damn it,” Wilbur groans, trying to keep his hips still.
Tommy moans around Wilbur’s cock at the lewd words, sending vibrations up the brunet’s spine that leave him aching for more. The way Wilbur pulls at his hair and his moans are barely muted by the small closet drive Tommy crazy, making him snake his hand down Wilbur’s leg and to his own fly. He quickly unzips and shimmies his pants down without missing a beat, still making Wilbur lose his mind. The blond strokes himself, letting out small, muffled gasps and moans around Wilbur’s dick. “Tommy, Tommy, fuck, you’re doing so good; you feel so fucking good,” Wilbur pants, unable to hold back his noises.
An idea pops into Tommy’s head, why not try something new? With quite a bit of effort, he constricts his throat into a swallowing motion. Wilbur lets out a sluttish moan making Tommy smirk, knowing he’s the only one who can pleasure Wilbur like this. Wilbur may be the top, but when Tommy’s on his knees, he’s in charge. Tommy is getting close, and he can tell Wilbur is too. By the way, Wilbur grips Tommy’s hair tighter and tighter as he slams into the boy’s mouth, neither of them is going to last much longer. The quick, harsh thrusts bring small droplets of salty tears to the edge of Tommy’s eyes, his breath being constricted so much he can barely breathe.
The lack of oxygen starts to get to the blond’s brain, making his nerves burn and his vision blurry. The lack of breath finally catches up to Tommy, making him let out a whorish moan before coming on the carpet. The smaller’s final moan sends enough pleasure for Wilbur to come tumbling over the edge, coming down the blond’s throat as his eyes roll into the back of his skull. Wilbur releases Tommy’s hair, and the smaller slumps against the wall coughing and gasping for air, a dazed smile on his face. Wilbur leans against the wall his head still thrown back, a bright red blush covering his face as his knees struggle to hold him up.
His usually styled hair lay a mess of disheveled chocolate curls as he brings his arm up to wipe a thin layer of sweat off his forehead. “I knew I’d suck the soul out of you one of these days,” Tommy giggles, his voice still recovering from the rough treatment. “Gimme a minute, can’t talk,” Wilbur pants, still trying to collect himself. Tommy snickers before pulling his pants and boxers up, fruitlessly trying to make it look like he wasn’t just face fucked for almost twenty minutes. “You look beautiful like that, love,” Wilbur praises, finally starting to pull himself together.
Tomy smiles and raises his eyebrow, “Like what?” he asks. “Like that. On your knees for me, totally fucked out with blush on your face, all for me, baby,” Wilbur responds, grabbing the blond’s hand to help him up; a smile of adoration painted on his face as he looks the blond up and down. The blush on Tommy’s face grows with the compliment “Don't act all tough and top-ish after moaning like that for me you prick!” Tommy retorts trying not to get more flustered, looking away and trying to act tough. Wilbur giggles, “Of course, darling. You did very well; you felt so good” Wilbur extols, wrapping his arms around Tommy's neck and pulling him into a hug.
“In fact, you did so well I thought I might reward you when we get home,” Wilbur whispers against the shell of Tommy’s ear, trailing his hand down the smaller’s torso. Tommy shudders, “Fuck, I like the sound of that,” Tommy whispers back, loving the way Wilbur’s hands explore his figure. Wilbur slowly drags his lips down the blond’s neck, stopping low on his collarbone before harshly biting and sucking at his pale skin. Tommy sharply exhales, his breath caught in his throat. Tommy tilts his neck back to give Wilbur better access; he feels a slight smirk grow on the brunet’s face as he sucks a dark hickey into his precious, unmarked skin.
A loud clang from several rooms over pulls the two from the closet’s sexually charged energy. “We should probably get going, love,” Wilbur chuckles, pulling away from the smaller’s collarbone with his face painted in adoration. “Probably,” Tommy says, giggling as Wilbur peppers his face with small, sweet kisses. “You can go out first; go find the group. I’ll catch up; it will look suspicious if we show up at the same time looking like this,” Wilbur explains, quietly opening the door and peeking through the opening.
Tommy nods, giving Wilbur a peck on the lips before inconspicuously slipping through the cracked door. Wilbur stays behind for a few moments, making sure Tommy had more than enough time to find everyone and make sure they don’t suspect anything. With a deep breath and a final adjustment of his hair, Wilbur slightly opens the door, peeking through the crack before quickly exiting the confined room. Wilbur hurries down the hall, making a sharp left turn and darting his eyes around before slouching forward with a deep breath when he thinks the coast is clear.
The coast was not clear. The brunet turns around, only to be met with a shorter brunet in front of him. Wilbur yelps and clutches his chest, “Christ, Tubbo, I didn’t see you there!” he huffs, trying to regain his composure. “My bad!” Tubbo giggles, looking Wilbur over for a moment before smirking. Wilbur stands in front of him awkwardly, feeling anxious as Tubbo not-so-inconspicuously looks him up and down. Wilbur’s eyes widen slightly and he tries to take a step back as Tubbo leans forward. His attempt was fruitless considering the secretly buff brunet grabs his arm and brings it to his nose, smelling him.
“Uhhh, Tubbo, we’ve talked about this. You can’t keep smelling people like this,” Wilbur chuckles anxiously, trying to pull his arm back. “I know, but I have a good reason this time. I had to test a theory!” Tubbo states simply, dropping his iron grip on Wilbur’s forearm before standing back to full height with an innocent smile. “And, uh, what theory is that?” Wilbur tries to ask nonchalantly, failing miserably as his pure anxiety seeps into the conversation’s energy. “Oh! I’ve had a theory that you and Tommy have been dating for a while,” Tubbo explains, not a hint of anything but pride in his voice.
Wilbur’s heart nearly stops at the shorter’s words. “Wha- n-no that’s cr-crazy! Wh- no! Ha! No, I mean, I- I’m not-” Wilbur stutters, rubbing at the back of his neck and never meeting the shorter brunet’s eyes. “Don’t think you can lie to me, big man, Tommy is not as sneaky as he thinks he is. He came stumbling into where Charlie, James, and I were talking. His hair was a mess and his face was bright red with a giant dopey smile on it, I put the dots together. Not to mention, I saw something a few months ago that will scar me forever that pretty much solidified my theory but I still wanted more proof; that’s why I sniffed you, you smell like Tommy’s shampoo” Tubbo explains, giggling as he sees Wilbur stare at him with wide eyes and an open jaw.
Wilbur is silent for a moment before speaking up in a small, meek voice “You- you don’t sound mad,” he states, confused and scared. “Pfft! Of course I’m not mad! I mean, at first, I was going to beat the living shit out of you and maybe call the police but the more I see you together the more I realize that I may have jumped to conclusions. You are always patient and kind with him, giving him lots of attention and affection, especially when you think no one’s looking,” Tubbo explains, crossing his arm and raising his eyebrow with a smile.
“So you’re really not ma- wait why do you know what his shampoo smells like?” Wilbur’s attitude switches from worry to suspicion as his mind connects the dots. “Don’t worry, big man, I’m not gonna steal your man. We’ve been best friends for most of our lives and he has never once changed shampoo brands, what kind of friend would I be if I couldn’t at least recognize it?” Tubbo laughs. Both of them giggle, the tension starting to break as they fall into a quick silence. “But for real, you aren’t mad? You aren’t going to go around and start telling everybody and have them start getting the wrong idea?” Wilbur asks, trying to shake off the last of his worry.
“Of course, I would never do that to either of you. I think you love him and he loves you, don’t worry,” Tubbo assures, reaching his hand out for Wilbur to shake. The taller brunet smiles and grabs Tubbo’s hand before letting out another yelp as the shorter drags them face-to-face, “But I swear to god, if I ever find out that you hurt him in any shape or form, I will rip your vocal cords out one by one so no one can hear you scream when I play your rib cage like a marimba.” Tubbo promises, staring deep into Wilbur’s eyes with a dark look.
“Yes! Yes, of course, I would never even dream of it! I love him,” Wilbur quickly assures, trying to pull away from their threatening proximity. Tubbo quickly lets go and springs back up, “Great! I’ll see you back with everyone, the food should be here soon!” he says before practically skipping away, turning the first corner. Wilbur gulps, his face pale and his palms sweaty. People always underestimate how strong and scary Tubbo is.
“Hey! What’s up, man, where were you?” Charlie shouts, watching Wilbur walk into the filming room and walk over to sit next to him. “Uh-” Wilbur starts, trying to quickly think of an excuse. “He was with me, we were chatting about an upcoming video and lost track of time!” Tubbo explains, walking over to them and grabbing a small container of mac and cheese from the table in front of them. “Yes! I was, uh, doing that!” Wilbur chuckles avoiding eye contact with Tubbo out of fear. “Alright. Hey, you seem kind of pale and sweaty, are you alright?” Charlie asks, looking the brunet over.
“Oh! I’m fine! Don’t worry about it, I uh, ran here?” Wilbur explains poorly, failing to come up with a good excuse. The sound of Tubbo facepalming can be heard from where the two are sitting. “Whatever you say, man. Can you pass those long flat french fries that your psychopaths named wrong?” Charlie asks, shrugging off Wilbur’s poor excuse and pointing to the leftover fish and chips container in front of the taller. “Chips, Charlie. They’re called chips,” Wilbur sighs, a smile growing on his face. “Don’t culture shame me! I’m still assimilating!” Charlie whines, taking the chips with faux annoyance.
They both giggle and take a bite of the food, appreciating its simple lack of taste. From across the room, Tommy looks over making eye contact with Wilbur, both of them smiling at the mere sight of each other. Tubbo watches as the two stare at each other with adoration before happily leaning back in his chair, knowing he made the right decision to not immediately murder his friend.