Warmth, so long as I'm With You

by Anonymous

Summary:

A set of one-shots revolving around Eret/Wilbur, some angsty, some soft.

Notes:

Feel free to make requests-- just know that I will not write smut of any kind, anything putting the minors in a precarious position, glorification of acts of violence (murder or SA, typically), severe gore, or anything that might be severely triggering or otherwise troubling.

Chapter 1: Pumpkin Spice Is Overrated (Except as Chai Tea)

Summary:

Modern AU, Wilbur and Eret go on a road trip and end up taking a bit of detour.

"We're lost," Eret mutters, staring out the window as she tugs at her scarf. "I told you it was a right and not a left..."

Wilbur scowls and glances out the window. They're somewhere in Wyoming, he thinks, only a quarter into their road trip across the states from California to New York, and Wilbur is beginning to wish he'd taken his dad's advice and installed the GPS before they left. He hadn't, of course, and now he was outside of any sort of phone service and thus unable to pinpoint their location on the map. Not that Eret wasn't still trying, tapping frantically at the screen and muttering under her breath. Wilbur knew she was likely right about the wrong turn, but to say it out loud would make him feel even stupider than he already did.

"It'll be fine," Wilbur responds, taking a hand off the steering wheel and resting it just above Eret's knee, tracing shapes with his thumb. "We'll still make Cheyenne before nightfall, we won't miss our reservation at the hotel or anything. We've got hours to make it."

Eret sighs and leans their head against the window. "I hope you're right."

"I am, love, trust me."

Eret hums softly, and rests their hand on top of Wilbur's, opting to stare sleepily out the window as they drive, periodically checking their phone to see if they have service again, but probably paying more attention to the colors outside their window. Yellow, orange, red... The mountainous terrain was painted in colors that brought to mind images of a crackling campfire and dripping gold jewelry. It was beautiful out here-- parts of Northern California sometimes got this lovely, but their home in LA was mostly palm trees, sun, and white sands. Not that Eret didn't love their home, but sometimes the constant summer got almost... boring. Eret had mentioned this to Wilbur, and Wilbur had used it as an opportunity for a road trip to NYC.

Eret had known this would involve a certain level of... "exploration" but he hadn't expected them to get this lost. The last time he had been able to check the map had shown that they were still pretty far off from Cheyenne and heading too far north; they were probably closer to Yellowstone than the capital by this point. Eret had, really, given up on trying to get Wilbur to change course, and now he supposed he was just along for the ride.

About half an hour later, Eret woke suddenly to a soft dinging noise and Wilbur cursing under his breath. Eret leaned over and winced as he saw the gas meter.

"Dammit, fuck, shit..." Wilbur muttered and Eret chuckled softly as he rubbed at his eyes and stretched.

"And you lot wonder where Tommy and Tubbo get their smart mouths..." Eret teases, and Wilbur's shoulders relax just slightly.

"Phil is ten times worse than me," Wilbur responds, reaching forward and tapping his fingers against the glass that hides the meters from him, sighing when the small needle pointing to E did not move. "We need to find a gas station, soon."

Eret doesn't bother responding aloud, choosing instead to tug out his phone again. By some miracle, he has service again, and he grins wildly. "We're in luck-- we have to be getting close to civilization because I have service again. Let me just..." A few taps later reveals a route leading to a nearby town that does, indeed, have a gas station. But once Eret takes a closer look, her smile fades. "Wilbur..."

"Yeah, baby?" Wil asks, turning to look over at his partner.

"We're 200 miles from Cheyenne. And it's almost sundown."

Wilbur bites his lip and scowls. "... Call the hotel. Cancel the reservation; we'll have to find a motel or something in town."

"If there's any availability," Eret adds. "We're close to Yellowstone, and it's busy this time of year."

"We packed sleeping bags and stuff, we can grab dinner and sleep in the car if it comes down to it," Wilbur says.

They pull into the gas station just as the engine gives out. They have to get out and push it the rest of the way to the pump, and Wilbur goes to put his card in before realizing that they'll have to pay inside. Eret starts pumping gas, and Wilbur wanders into the station. It's quiet-- there's a little old lady looking at the beer section, and a bored-looking teenager at the counter. Wilbur sticks his hands in the pockets of his coat, the khaki worn and familiar. He takes a moment to check out the snacks and drinks, and he's about to grab a couple bottles of water before he spots a cafe across the street, and he thinks quietly that a cup of hot coffee or tea would be so much better. So instead, he makes his way to the cashier, lists off the pump they're using, and hands over his credit card.

The kid plugs it into the machine, and types a bit at it, prodding the keyboard with a hum. "That's gonna be about $50 for you and your boyfriend."

Wilbur glances up in surprise. "How did you--"

The kid shrugs. "Most dude friends aren't that touchy-feely with one another. You kept grabbing his shoulder, and stuff. Don't worry, I'm not judging," she says, before handing his card back.

Wilbur turns to leave, then stops and looks back at the girl. "Do you know if there any decent hotels with openings here? And places to grab dinner?"

"The cafe you were looking at has pretty good food. Burgers, fries, classic American stuff, if you're okay with that. Where are you from?" she asks, and Wilbur is taken back by the sudden change of conversation.

"Uhm, both of us are from South England."

"Cool. Why'd you come to America?"

"He came for school, I came for... well, to get away. Then stayed for him," Wilbur says, feeling his face heat up.

"Here's your card. There's a Hilton down the street that's got vacancies. Have a good night."

Wilbur thanks her and heads to the pump, where Eret is leaning against the car and waiting for him. Wilbur lists off what the cashier told him and Eret listens, and a few minutes later they're across the street, ordering dinner in the cafe. Wilbur makes a bit of a face as he looks at the menu and Eret smiles, reaching over with her foot and kicking him gently.

"What's wrong?" she asks, and Wilbur sighs.

"It's all pumpkin spice..." Wilbur mutters, scowling slightly. "I'm so sick of pumpkin spice..."

Unfortunately for Wilbur's pride, the waitress overhears him. Luckily, she doesn't seem too upset and instead walks up to their table. "If you're looking for something non-traditional we have Pumpkin Chai tea, which I think is a better alternative for the typical latte."

Wilbur, more than a little embarrassed, stammers in agreement and ends up ordering the chai as well as some fries and a chicken sandwich. Eret gets a burger and some onion rings plus a shake and spends the rest of their time waiting teasing Wilbur and resisting the urge to reach across and lock their hands together. She tells herself to keep their location in mind-- rural America is rarely the most accepting place. Eventually, their food comes, and they make idle conversation about their trip and any places they want to see. The food is good, and Wilbur is more than a little surprised by how much he likes the tea. He likes it enough that he asks the waitress what brand it is, and makes a note to pick it up.

Finally, tired and worn, they make their way to the Hilton and check in before they head to their room, unceremoniously tossing their suitcases to the side and before Wilbur can stop them, Eret has already claimed the shower, and Wilbur is too tired to join them and possibly start something, so he pulls out an outfit for tomorrow, and simply lays across the bed as he waits.

Eventually, they've both showered, and Eret joins his boyfriend on the bed, curling into his side under the covers. Wilbur's breathing is soft, and he still smells faintly like the Chai he had at dinner-- sweet and warm, with an underlying spice. Eret hums and presses closer, and Wilbur runs his hand along his back.

"I love you, you know that right?" Eret murmurs and Wilbur sighs happily.

"I know. I love you, too," Wilbur responds, and Eret snuggles up against him, drifting into blissful sleep.

Chapter 2: Cozy Up With Me

Summary:

Wilbur and Eret get stuck in Wil's cabin during a blizzard. Fluff ensues.

Notes:

Avian Hybrid Wilbur, Wither Hybrid Eret, brief TW for hypothermia (Withers were not meant to live in the snow) and anxiety

Wilbur knew there was a storm on the horizon. The pressure of the air weighed differently on his wings today, and every time he stepped outside the air smelled of ozone and cold. That hadn't stopped Eret from going out mining anyways, no matter how much Wilbur nagged him. Now, Wilbur stood on the porch, squinting nervously into the forest around them, past the bright red leaves and their dusting of snow and into the needled trees beyond. Wilbur had built this place out of the way, in a copse of maple trees buried within the enchanted forest outside of Phil and Techno's cabins, put there by familiar magic. It was decent sized, a little bigger than Phil and Techno's cabins with an attic and walled-off bedrooms and bathrooms. Wilbur loved the home he shared with his husband, but he did recognize that the cold and storms could be a problem. His wings may have provided extra warmth, but Eret's roots in the Nether meant that the house was often kept rather warm.

The cold was swiftly becoming a much larger problem, as Wilbur watched the sky darken as he waited for Eret to return, worry building in his gut. He stood out on the porch, his wings fluttering nervously and the occasional anxious chirp forcing it's way out of his mouth until it began to snow, forcing Wilbur to retreat into the building. He takes a moment to stoke the fire and places a pot of beef stock over the top, absently adding the ingredients he'd set aside for stew earlier in the day. Outside, it grows darker and at a certain point, Wilbur has to step aside and light the lanterns in the main room. The wind blows furiously at the shutters, and Wilbur keeps pausing, frowning out at the blizzard growing furiously outside the cabin. He figured that if it kept up, he'd likely be stuck here for a few days, and even more concerning was the thought that Eret might get stuck in the caves or worse, outside in the storm.

But it seemed he was in luck, because just as Wilbur was about to toss on his winter gear and go searching before it was too late, the door slammed open and Eret stumbled into the cabin, shaking like a leaf. His sunglasses were missing, and his cloak was coated in a layer of ice. Wilbur cried out, dropping his scarf and sprinting over as Eret shut the door behind him. Eret's hands trembled so much that Wilbur had to help him get his gear off, tossing it haphazardly off to the side, noting that his fingertips and lips were tinged blue, and any hair not covered was frozen. Eret's opalescent eyes watched as Wilbur tore her clothes off of her, and a small smirk appeared on Eret's face.

"I didn't know you missed me that much..." she muttered, and Wilbur scowled up at him.

"You've given yourself hypothermia, you moron. If I don't get these clothes off you'll just continue to freeze," Wilbur snaps, but once Eret squeezes his hand his expression softens. "I thought you were gonna die out there."

"And leave you all alone out here? Never," Eret swears, raising Wilbur's hand to her lips and placing a kiss on his knuckles, just above his wedding band.

Wilbur sighs, and once all the wet and frozen layers were gone he dragged Eret to sit in front of the fire and draped a blanket over his figure and checked the stew before starting up the woodburning stove and placing a pot to heat milk for hot cocoa on the top. Wilbur bustles around for a while, getting warm and dry clothes for Eret, ensuring the milk doesn't scald, placing Eret's wet clothing on the rack in front of the fire to dry, and as soon as the cocoa is in mugs he collapses next to Eret, huffing softly as he passes one to his husband.

Eret hums happily, sipping on their mug as Wilbur curls into his side, wrapping a wing around him. It's quiet outside of the crackle of the fire, the howling of the wind, and the occasional shifting of Wilbur's feather or content little chirping noise that has Eret smiling a bit every time he hears it.

"I'm glad you're okay," Wilbur murmurs after they've both finished their cocoa, and he's washing up in the sink. "I was genuinely afraid that you would be seriously hurt."

Eret frowns, wrapping their blanket tighter around themself. "I'm not fragile, Wil. I can take care of myself."

Wilbur pauses, and Eret sees his wings droop a little. "I know that... I do! I fought wars alongside you! We were mercenaries together for years! But I think about losing you and I just..." Wilbur drops the mugs into the sink and sniffles softly, clearly holding back tears.

Eret stands up and takes him by the wrist, gently dragging him to be back beside him on the couch, adjusting so that they can wrap themself tightly around Wilbur's form. Wilbur holds in the tears for a few moments longer before the dam breaks and he buries himself in Eret's shoulder, sobbing softly. Eret says nothing, quietly straightening a few feathers in Wilbur's wings and running a soothing hand over his back beneath them. All that's visible of his head is his untidy mop of brown curls and the singular, bright white streak that Wilbur can't seem to get rid of no matter what he does to it.

Eret says nothing-- he holds Wilbur and lets his lover cry softly until finally, Wilbur pulls away and wipes at his eyes. Wil laughs softly, sending Eret a sympathetic look.

"Sorry," he whispers. "I just-- Everyone's left. In some way or another, at one point, everyone I love has left. Phil abandoned me for his journeys the moment I turned 18, Techno wasn't there in Pogtopia when I needed him most, Tommy ditched me shortly after I was revived, Tubbo still wants nothing to do with me, and Niki wanted me dead for a time. I just-- I was so terrified you were never going to come back, that I'd have lost the man I married, and I--"

"Shhh..." Eret murmurs, pulling Wilbur in again. "I made a promise, remember? I made vows, and I intend for them to last all our lives. Besides, Techno and Phil and Tommy and Niki all came back to you, and Fundy never really left. You're loved, my dear, so very, very loved..."

Wilbur sobs dryly, and Eret runs a hand through his hair.

Eventually, Wilbur settles back down, and Eret helps him finish dinner. It's a quiet affair, absent conversation and small talk made at the table before they work together to wash the dishes, and then both retreat to bed, curling up tight together under the covers as the storm rages on. It's not quite accurate to say they sleep soundly-- between the wind howling at the walls like a wolf trying to claw its way in and their own inner demons and memories, sleep doesn't come easy. But they manage.

Together, they manage.

Chapter 3: Died in the Church and Was Buried Along With His Name

Summary:

Eret is forced to bury the love of their life, and the last thing they expect is to ever see the man they betrayed so long ago come back to them.

Notes:

Title is from "Eleanor Rigby" by The Beatles.

Warnings for: Major Canonical Character Death, Funerals, Mourning

Eret wears black beneath his cloak and crown. Dark boots, dark shirt, dark pants. People have stopped asking why by now, having grown used to the mourning clothes long ago. It's been months, people whisper, months since he left this earthly plane, months since that awful disaster. Why mourn someone who caused so much heartbreak and pain? Why mourn someone who had thrown his life away for what, a smidge of power? A bit of revenge?

Why mourn Wilbur Soot?

Even Fundy had asked him why he still wore black, and Eret found she didn't have an answer for him. Not one that could ever be reasonably explained, at least. So Eret had merely responded that the situation was... complicated, and politely requested that Fundy leave it there. He did, and after that people stopped asking, despite the fact that Eret continued to wear black.

Why mourn Wilbur Soot...? 

Because their relationship was so much more complicated than ex-president and traitor. Eret was the only one who knew that Wilbur had a scar on the back of his left thigh from getting into a fight in his traveling days. Eret was the only one who knew that Wilbur preferred his tea unusually bitter, but always with cream. Eret was the only one who knew that Wilbur liked to sleep in the cold so he could pile blankets upon his bed, and to give him an extra excuse to snuggle up to... someone. Eret was the only one who knew that Wilbur loved days with snow on the ground and bright sun that made it glitter like diamonds. Eret was the only one who knew all these things, who remembered them with bright clarity, who remembered Wilbur's bright insidious laugh before he was trapped in that dark ravine before Wilbur fell into a trap of Eret's own making.

Eret mourned Wilbur Soot because he had loved him. Eret buried Wilbur Soot because he had loved him.

It hadn't been that hard to convince Phil to let him be the one to do it. Phil was so wracked with guilt over Wilbur's death that the idea of burying his son had brought him to his knees, and he'd been willing to hand over the body. He'd been there when Eret put him in the ground, him and Techno being the only ones to stand vigil as Eret lowered her love into the ground, and covered the grave with dirt. They'd left a simple marking for the time, an engraved piece of wood that read: Wilbur Soot, Beloved Son, Father, and Friend. Birth Year Unknown, Died in 2021. May he Finally Find Peace.

Eret had gone back, a week after the fact, all in black. His cloak, his crown, all of it was the color of grief. And he'd built a true memorial on that grave. Lapis and gold, resting Wilbur's old sword on the top, and then he stepped back, stared at it... and collapsed into tears. Eret wasn't sure how long he cried, laying at the foot of Wilbur's grave, mourning for the loss of not only Wilbur's life, but mourning everything that could have been if Eret hadn't fucked up so long ago. If he hadn't betrayed Wilbur to his enemies, if Eret hadn't been such a greedy, fantastical fool. He could've had a life with Wilbur, a long one. Prosperous, and warm. He could've had Wilbur's hand in marriage, could've stopped his spiral into depression and paranoia and unflinching rage that led to the crater that now sat behind Eret, whose embers still softly glowed.

If Eret hadn't betrayed the man he loved, he would have so much more.

Ghostbur isn't the same. He remembers their relationship, remembers that at one point he and Eret were so deeply, painfully in love, but he's not Wilbur. And Eret cannot find it in himself to reignite that spark. Ghostbur may have some of Wilbur's memories but ultimately, he isn't Wilbur. He's not the man that Eret fell head over heels for, not the man she poured her heart and soul out to, not the man she buried.

They're on good terms with Ghostbur, nonetheless, but it's not the same. And then, one day, Ghostbur up and leaves, saying he's going to help Tommy with something, and Ghostbur doesn't return. 

Ghostbur doesn't return, but someone else does.

It's late when Eret hears the knock on his office door. He pauses, setting papers aside-- some sort of document about civil discourse, something to do with an outdated law... It's a boring read, and Eret is grateful when he hears that knock on the door because in the moment he thinks it's likely a distraction from a friend, maybe Foolish or Puffy. So he stands, straightening his dark clothes before making his way to the door and opening it wide...

... and stops dead in their tracks. Because standing there, the smallest smile on his face, hands tucked in the pocket of his coat and a bright white streak in his hair, is the man they buried. The man they watched die. The man they loved, the man they lost.

Standing there, in his doorway and looking very much alive, is Wilbur Soot.

"Hey," Wilbur croaks, and something about the fragility of his voice makes her heart crack.

"Hey," Eret murmurs, stepping out into the hall.

It's quiet, and Eret is physically resisting the urge to throw themself into Wilbur's arms and stay there for the rest of eternity. But, to her surprise, Wilbur reaches out a hand, a silent offer, and Eret takes it, squeezing gently, and then Wilbur is in his arms, holding on so fucking tight and Eret's holding him closer than he ever had before, and he's terrified of what might happen if he lets go.

So he doesn't, and when Wilbur closes the gap and kisses him soundly and warmly in ways that are so painfully familiar, Eret almost sobs, kissing back with all the emotion they can muster.

Eret stops wearing white after that day, and when Foolish asks why as they wander the desert, Eret merely smiles.

Why mourn Wilbur Soot when he isn't dead?

Chapter 4: Euphoria/Dysphoria

Summary:

Gender is complicated, Wilbur thinks. It makes his head hurt to think about it, but he thinks about it all the time. How could he not, when he looks in the mirror and feels like everything's wrong?

Gender is complicated, Eret thinks. His brain flashes through a million different things, but lately when she looks in the mirror, things are starting to feel right, to click into place.

--

Eret's coming to terms with themselves and their body, but Wilbur isn't so lucky. Luckily, Wilbur has a wonderful partner who is more than willing to help him.

Notes:

Modern AU, trans Wilbur Soot, Genderqueer Eret, Supportive friends and family, hurt/comfort and a shit ton of fluff. Inspired by the beauty that is Eret's cosplay/Halloween costume!

Wilbur couldn't help but quietly marvel at his partner as he clicked the shutter button again. To say that Eret was entrancing would be the least of it; Eret was ethereal and beautiful and Wilbur couldn't help but stare a bit. This didn't go unnoticed, and his partner turned and smirked softly at him, hand on her hip as her eyes sparkled behind the glasses she was wearing. Wilbur's glasses, as a matter of fact. Wilbur felt like he was going to melt; Eret pulled off femininity as well as they pulled off masculinity, their curves enhanced in a way that looked natural, looked as though they'd always looked like that. Wilbur held back a dreamy sigh as he watched his partner gently pluck a rose from one of the bushes surrounding them; what had he done to deserve them?

Lost in thought, Wilbur barely noticed as Eret walked up to him, until Eret gently took his hand in his own, smiling demurely down at him. "You alright, love?"

Wilbur blinked, and looked up at him. "Better than alright. Am I dreaming? Are you and I really dating?"

Eret laughs, the deep noise reverberating in Wilbur's chest and causing a burst of familiar butterflies in his stomach. "We're dating, mon chéri."

Wilbur sighed again, and as he craned his neck up (he'd never had to do that with a partner before... He still wasn't sure how he felt about it), Eret's grin grew and he gently pulled Wilbur into a short kiss before they returned to finishing the photo shoot. Wilbur was more than happy to be behind the camera if it meant he got to stare all day.

Pictures done, they quickly pack everything up and return home. Almost as soon as they get back, Eret darts up to the bathroom, muttering something about how sweaty the cape is. Wilbur chuckles softly, but follows more slowly to the bedroom after he pulls his shoes off by the door. He steps into the bedroom, followed at his heels by their loving cat, Goose, and plops down on the bed. For a moment he just listens to the sound of the shower running and hums, before tugging off his shirt and tossing it absently into the hamper.

And then he catches a glance of himself in the mirror, and his heart sinks to the bottom of his feet.

He's wearing his binder. It's squeezing tight, as it should, but after wearing it the whole day it was beginning to become uncomfortable. But for some reason, the idea of taking it off felt almost unbearable. Having to see himself without it, see himself the way so many others had for so much of his life, the thought caused a wave of anxiety to crash over him, and Wilbur wraps his arms around his chest, taking a deep, shuddering breath. He knows it's unhealthy to leave the binder on for too long, but he feels like if he takes it off he's going to vomit.

Wilbur is so lost in his own head that he barely registers the shower turning off in time to scoop up someone's discarded t-shirt on the floor and tug it on over top of him.

Eret steps out of the shower with a towel wrapped around their waist, and they spend a minute digging through the drawers. Wilbur says nothing, just stares at a small scar on Eret's left calf. Eret fishes out a pair of fluffy pajama pants and a t-shirt with UCLA's crest on it, along with a pair of boxers before tossing them on. Once they're dressed, Eret turns to grin at Wilbur, but after a moment the brilliant smile stutters and fades.

"You're still in your binder..." Eret points out, and Wilbur's heart lurches in fear just as something in his mind bristles with irritation.

"Yeah," Wilbur says shortly, wrapping his arms around himself tighter.

"Darling..." Eret says quietly, and Wilbur can't bring himself to look at them. "C'mon. Keeping it on isn't good for you."

"It's fine." Wilbur snaps this time, and he feels regretful the moment a look of hurt flashes across his partner's face. He knows Eret means well, but the idea of removing the binder is still threatening to make him physically ill.

Eret sighs, and gently sits next to Wilbur on the bed. He's careful to keep some distance between them, but he's close enough that Wilbur could reach out and touch him or shift to cozy up next to him if he wanted to. "Wanna talk about it?"

Wilbur is quiet for a long moment. "... I hate the way my body looks without it," he admits. "I don't know why. I just... I look in the mirror and all I can feel is a distinct sense of wrong. I don't know why it's bad today."

Eret frowns. "Could it be because of the whole costume thing?"

Wilbur thinks back to the photoshoot, and if it had made him feel dysphoric at all... But all he can remember is a distinct sense of pride and affection towards Eret. But maybe there's also a little...

"Jealousy," Wilbur whispers. "I think... I think I was a little bit jealous of you, how comfortable in your own skin you looked. I... I want that too," Wilbur doesn't register that he's crying until Eret's reaching up, brushing the tears away and bundling him in her arms.

"Oh, love..." Eret whispers, holding him tight. "I want that for you, too. And I know we'll get there eventually. You've always got me here, to remind you how much I love you regardless of what you look like. And your family does too; your father and your brothers will always be by your side I know it."

Wilbur sniffles and scoots closer, snuggling deeper into Eret's arms, "Thank you..." he sobs, and Eret holds him closer.

They stay like that for a long while, before Wilbur pulls away, sniffling softly. "I think I'm ready to take it off for the night."

Eret nods, and she stands, coming back after a moment with a cozy pair of pants and a soft, worn sweatshirt. Wilbur takes them gratefully. He steps into the bathroom to change, and when he comes back out, Eret is waiting for him.

"Why don't we facetime your family tonight?" Eret suggests, and Wilbur nods.

"I'd like that..."

Wilbur bundles himself up under Eret's arms, and as he presses his face into Eret's long curls, he quietly thinks, not for the first time that day, that he's the luckiest man in the world.