Attached | Bee & Boo

Naivety

TW: None

A/N: We love writer's block, stress, and just zero time in the day lmao. Anyway take possibly trashy content.

 Wilbur's brow furrowed as he tapped out a quiet beat, trying to engrain the rhythm into his mind. He knew it was probably a pointless endeavor, that he would probably forget within the hour. But, that wasn't going to stop him from trying! Humming quietly, he started to go through rounds of lyrics, trying out different words and phrases that he had gotten from other songs and poems.

"Fucking 'now'! Nothing rhymes with you!" he whisper shouted, mouthing through all the words he could think of offhand. Time to rearrange the entire chorus, I guess. Will thought sarcastically, already mentally butchering the lyrics to flow better.

"What are you doing?'' a small voice asked. Wilbur startled, his gaze quickly focusing on Michael, the boy sitting mere inches from the oblivious man.

"Pardon?"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm- I'm brainstorming ideas for a song?"
"What's it called?" Wilbur paused, considering.

"I'm not sure yet."

"Can you sing it?" Michael asked eagerly, scooting closer excitedly. The man tilted his head, weighing his options.

"Okay," Wilbur answered hesitantly, his mind frantically scrambling for some semblance of lyrics. Hitting his leg gently, he started a simple beat. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. "Um, I- I only really have the chorus, but..."

"Looking out the window

Keep rehearsing intros

Winking at the mirror

Hope my head gets clearer

I can't wait to see her

Stalking her online

Logic on standby

Don't care about lies..." he trailed off, not knowing the rest of the lyrics yet. Michael only waited a second (to make sure he was done, presumably) before erupting into rambunctious applause.

"That was so good!"

"Thanks, man!" Wilbur replied genuinely, rubbing the pinkett's hair affectionately. The boy flinched away. The man's smile immediately fell, a concerned look taking its place..

"Sorry," Michael apologized.

"No! No, don't be! It's not your fault."

-

It had been a couple hours since Wilbur had scared Michael, but he couldn't seem to get it out of his mind. Glancing over at the sleeping boy, the brunet couldn't help but feel sad for the toddler. He was so young. Too young. He didn't deserve whatever shit life had thrown at him.

"It's not your fault, you know," Ranboo said quietly, sitting silently next to the man.

"It kinda is."

"No. It's mine." The hybrid paused, sighing. "I was supposed to protect him."

Wilbur shook his head, "It shouldn't be your responsibility."

"But, it is. Whether or not it should be is irrelevant. This is real life. It's not fair."

"That doesn't make this right," Wilbur pointed out, his head resting in his hands.

"I never said it did."

"Fuck, man. What happened to him?" the man asked finally, his eyes finally meeting the Ranboo's. "What happened to both of you?"

"A lot of things," the boy answered vaguely, his gaze traveling aimlessly around the space. "Too much, probably."

-

Tubbo listened to Wilbur's and Ranboo's conversation quietly. He knew he probably shouldn't, that it was private. But, they were being loud, and they were in a closed space. Did that make it any better? Probably not. But, whatever. It's too late now.

"The foster system isn't the best way to grow up, I'll be honest," Ranboo remarked with a wet laugh, the words echoing through the space like it was on a mic with reverb.

"No shit, Sherlock," Wilbur replied, concern mixed into his sarcasm. There was a pause, neither of them seeming to know what to say.

"We turned out okay, anyway, I think." Ranboo sighed, presumably glancing over at Michael. "At least, I hope we did."

Yay! I did it! Have a wonderful day/night!