Chapter Text
Like some perfect joke of the universe, Tommy’s adoption date was set for his fifteenth birthday.
Wilbur laughed out loud when he opened the envelope. He couldn’t stop laughing long enough to explain, so he just handed the letter off to Technoblade and made him read it out loud. When he did, Tommy looked hesitantly ecstatic— an oxymoron of an expression, but definitely the one that best described Tommy’s at the moment.
When the date rolled around, it was a family affair.
Technoblade knocked on Wilbur and Tommy’s door that morning while Phil fiddled with his sleeves behind him. (They’d briefly entertained the idea of fishing out their old dress uniforms for the occasion, but decided against it in the end. Some things deserved to remain with the skeletons in their closets. Besides, it gave Phil the opportunity to wear the bird-embroidered tie Tommy had given him for Christmas. It was supposed to have been a gag gift, but the joke was on Tommy because Phil fucking loved it.)
“Come in!” Wilbur called from somewhere inside the apartment.
Technoblade rolled his eyes, but fished out his key without complaint. When he and Phil filed into the apartment, they found no sign of either of their boys.
“Phil! Techno! Can you come here?”
The yell came from Tommy’s room, but it was undercut by Wilbur’s laughter and Tommy’s annoyed sniping.
Phil laughed and called, “Coming, mate!”
Again, Technoblade rolled his eyes, but followed Phil to Tommy’s bedroom.
They found the boys there, in various states of disarray.
Wilbur was standing behind Tommy in front of the mirror, struggling to twist the younger boy’s tie into anything that even resembled a proper knot. His own tie was draped, untied, around his neck.
“Neither of us are very good at this,” Wilbur said, laughing a little sheepishly.
“Understatement,” Tommy snapped. He was jittery, hardly able to stay still long enough for Wilbur to even attempt to fix his poor attempt at a knot. In fact, Technoblade could see where Wilbur’s weight was planted on Tommy’s shoulders in an attempt to keep him in place. It wasn’t working.
“All right, back up,” Phil said, shaking his head with fond exasperation. “I’ve got this.”
Wilbur stepped away, looking relieved. His hands fiddled with his own tie, loose and draped across his shoulders.
“Techno, you…” Phil jerked his head at Wilbur and Technoblade got the message.
“Come ‘ere, kid.”
Wilbur obeyed without question as Technoblade led him to his own bedroom. They stood in front of the mirror there while Technoblade walked Wilbur through the process of tying a tie.
“I had to do this myself last time,” Wilbur said, with a nervous sort of laugh. Technoblade’s hands covered his own as he guided the younger man through the motions. “It looked awful. I was afraid the judge was gonna disqualify me based on my tie alone.”
“Well, she didn’t last time and she’s definitely not going to this time,” Technoblade said, humming approvingly as Wilbur pulled the knot through. “Now turn around.”
Wilbur did and Technoblade took the time to adjust the tie until it looked proper. His hands lingered on Wilbur’s shoulders as he stepped back to admire his handiwork.
“Not bad,” he said. “Compared to last time, the judge is gonna think you’re a whole new man.”
Wilbur laughed. “You think Phil was able to wrestle Tommy down long enough to get his tied?”
Technoblade huffed out a laugh too. “If anyone can, it’s Phil.”
Not ten seconds later, a shout came from down the hall.
“Wilbur! Come subdue your child!”
Wilbur wheezed, leaning against the wall for support as Technoblade shook his head in mock disapproval.
“Eight years in the army— a goddamn captain— and still bested by a child.”
Wilbur’s laughter echoed down the hall.
***
For as anxious as Wilbur clearly was, the hearing went smoothly and quickly.
To Tommy’s utter embarrassment, the judge gave Wilbur the chance to speak about why he was seeking to adopt Tommy. Technoblade had never seen Tommy’s ears turn so pink.
It was Tommy’s turn next.
He glared half-heartedly at the judge and said, “Don’t make me say it.”
She laughed. “You’ve gotten taller since last time,” she said, “But you haven’t changed.” She winked at him as she asked, “Do you like living with Wilbur?”
“I love it,” Tommy said, blushing fiercely. “I… love him.”
“That’s all I needed to hear.”
After that, it was a matter of stamps and signatures.
Thirty minutes after entering, Wilbur and Tommy emerged from the courthouse bound by law.
Tommy was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. It wasn’t working.
Wilbur had given up on that endeavor a while ago, right around the time he’d begun to choke up telling the judge what a perfect kid Tommy was. Now he was grinning, unabashed, as tears spilled down his cheeks.
He spun Tommy around in a hug the moment they left the courtroom. Tommy’s squawk of indignation was forever captured on Technoblade’s video camera.
They went out to eat after. Wilbur had admitted to Technoblade a few weeks ago that he’d been saving his tips to take Tommy somewhere nice. Technoblade had subsequently relayed this information to Phil, who slipped the waiter his credit card before the meal even began. Wilbur could be annoyed later; for now, only joy was permitted.
After the meal, they went home where the celebrations continued in Phil and Technoblade’s apartment.
As Tommy and Wilbur went next door to change out of their suits, Technoblade took the opportunity to remove his and Phil’s surprise from the fridge.
When all four of them recongregated, it was around the living room coffee table where a little red cake sat in the center. In white icing, it read:
Happy birthday, Tommy! Welcome home!
“Wilbur showed us the picture. From your first birthday with him.” Technoblade didn’t know why he was suddenly so nervous. “And we… recreated it.”
For a long time, Tommy just looked at it. Technoblade couldn’t help the uncertainty that rose in his chest, afraid somehow they’d upset Tommy with this.
But then Tommy looked up. His eyes were shiny, but his lips were curled in a grin as he said thickly, “I just hope it tastes better than Wilbur’s.”
“Hey!” Wilbur said, but he was laughing too. He tried to subtly wipe away his new tears, but the effort was futile. Technoblade handed him a tissue and he burst into tears all over again.
“Wilbur, stop,” Tommy whined, but his breath was hitching too. “I mean it.”
Wilbur didn’t stop. He just caught Tommy by the shoulder and tugged him into a one-armed hug.
Phil held up a knife. “Should I cut the cake?”
“Yes,” Tommy said quickly. “I need Wilbur to eat so he can’t keep hugging me.”
“Too late, kiddo! I get to hug you for the rest of my life— it’s the law now.”
“That’s not what adoption means!”
“That’s exactly what it means.”
Eventually, Tommy managed to pry Wilbur off of him long enough to scarf down a piece of cake.
“Your talents are wasted in medicine,” Tommy told Technoblade through a mouthful of cake. “This is fucking amazing.” He was sitting as he always did, on the floor between the couch and the coffee table. Wilbur was curled up on the couch behind him, Technoblade on the other end. Phil was sitting in the armchair.
Technoblade snorted out a laugh. “I’ll be sure to tell my patients that I got your endorsement before I quit to pursue baking.”
“Good,” Tommy said firmly. “Just give them some of this cake and they’ll be cured anyway.”
Later, when Phil and Technoblade were clearing the dishes, Technoblade caught sight of a quiet moment between the brothers from where he lingered in the kitchen doorway.
Wilbur draped himself over Tommy’s back and wrapped him in a hug from behind. In an unusual display of vulnerability, Tommy didn’t fight it. Instead, his hands covered Wilbur’s where they held him.
Hushed, just for Tommy, Wilbur said, “I love you. I love who you are. If you know anything, please know that.”
Technoblade didn’t miss the way Tommy’s throat bobbed at those words.
“I know.” Even softer, Tommy whispered, “I love you too.”
Wilbur didn’t say anything, but Technoblade saw the way he held Tommy a little tighter.
“I wish it could always be like this.” Tommy’s voice was quiet. A confession. “But I have this fear that bad things are just always gonna happen to us.”
For a long time, Wilbur was silent. Then he said, “Maybe they will.”
Technoblade held his breath.
“But I know good things are gonna happen to us too. Things like this.”
Technoblade exhaled.
“Phil and Techno,” Tommy said. “They’re good things.”
Wilbur let out a little breath of laughter. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I think they might be the best thing that’s ever happened to us.”
Technoblade pulled away then. He didn’t need to hear this. But he couldn’t escape the overwhelming feeling in his heart, so he redirected it instead.
“Tech!” Phil laughed as Technoblade wrapped him in a hug from behind, just as Wilbur had with Tommy. Phil’s hands were wet and sudsy where they hovered above the sink. “I’m doing dishes!”
“And you’re doing a great job,” Technoblade said. “Now stop and let me hug you.”
Phil let out a huff, but dried his hands and shuffled around in Technoblade’s arms to hug him back.
“I love you, mate.”
Technoblade inhaled and exhaled slowly. Phil’s arms tightened marginally around him.
“I love you too.”
Their moment was broken by a call from the other room.
“Phil! Techno! Get back in here! I wanna celebrate with alcohol!”
Three voices rose in protest. They were drowned out by Tommy’s cackling laugh.
Technoblade let go of Phil and let the older man drag him by the hand to the living room.
The love in his chest was overflowing. The apartment was bursting at the seams with it. His heart pounded out a rhythm of home, home, home.
Tommy and Wilbur’s laughter added the melody. It was the most beautiful song Technoblade had ever heard.