Chapter Text
Tommy crouches on the settee, his fingers hovering over the telephone buttons. He’s repeated the sequence of digits in his mind so many times he must have memorised it already. What should I say? He takes a deep breath, and finally, finally dials the number. It rings. He shouldn’t be surprised, but the sound startles him into a seat nonetheless. He glances at the clock over the window. Is it too early?
9:58.
“Hello? Julianne Wilson speaking.”
“H-hello,” the blond stutters. He switches his grip on the phone to his left hand and clears his throat. “This is Tommy Rosten, ma’am. May I speak to Ranb- to Archie, please?” Tommy’s right hand curls around his knee self-admonishingly at the slip up, blunt nails digging into the skin.
“Just a moment, dear.” The voice moves away. “Archie, darling, there’s a Tommy Rosten on the telephone for you.”
The blond boy holds his breath waiting.
“Hello?”
Tommy lets out a staggering exhale. He sounds like he just got out of bed. “Hey,” he says, his voice soft. “I didn’t wake you or anything, did I?”
“No, no, I was already awake when you called.”
The blond gazes at the ceiling. He takes a few moments to breathe. His voice-
“Tommy? You there, man?”
Warmth blooms under his lungs. Something feels fluttery within his ribcage. “Y-yeah, I’m here. I, uh. Happy birthday, big man. What time do we meet?”
“Oh thank you! You’re actually the first to greet me today.” He laughs. Tommy grips his chest like an emotional lead actress in a dramatic soap opera, then drops his hand when he realises what he’s done. “Toby wouldn’t be awake until 11, I’m guessing. 1 pm sound okay?”
“Alright. See you at the intersection, yeah?”
“I can go to your house then we can go to Toby’s together.”
Tommy thinks for a moment. “That’s fine. Just avoid Wilbur. I don’t want a repeat of yesterday.”
“What’s wrong with yesterday?”
“Can’t have my family liking you too much, Ranboo. They’ll disown me and take you for their son when they find out how perfect you are.”
“You think I’m perfect?”
Tommy’s cheeks turn hot. The fluttering against his ribs intensifies. “Fuck no! In fact, you are anything but. I won’t allow them to fall for your deception.”
“I’m just playing. I’ll see you then, alright?” Tommy can hear the smile in his voice. He can picture the easy smile tugging at the other boy’s lips and making the corners of his eyes crinkle adorably. It’s the smile that screams trouble.
“See you. Bye,” he says in a rushed breath.
“Bye bye, Tommy.” The receiver clatters when Tommy ends the call immediately, not wanting to hear the end of it. You’re gonna be the death of me.
1 pm could not come sooner. He busies himself with trying (and failing) to help Phil with lunch, which resulted in him being kicked out of the kitchen. After their slightly early lunch, he takes a shower, then spends too long picking what to wear to the point that he starts overthinking it. He settled on a bright blue jumper and khaki shorts and paired them with his red sneakers. When he looks up at the clock, it’s noon sharp.
Next, he attempts to tame his curls into something a little more put together. Kristin’s reflection passes behind him, and she stops there, briefly watching him in the mirror trying to comb his curls into something decent. Tommy tries to smile at her, but his struggle weighs down the edges of his lips.
“Need help?”
Tommy sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Yeah… Just don’t make me look weird, please.”
“Oh ye of little faith. I know what I’m doing. Who do you think taught Dave to take care of his hair?”
“Can you do my hair like his?” he asks excitedly.
“Well, I’ll need a few things. Go fetch your father’s pomade.”
“I don’t wanna look like Phil!”
“Why, what’s wrong with Phil’s hair?”
“He looks old. ”
“I don’t know, Tommy, I think he looks great.”
“You’re his wife, of course you’d think that.”
Kristin laughs. “Well, that won’t happen. Just trust me, Tommy. If you hate it, you can just wash it off.”
Ten minutes later, his mother had fixed up his hair nicely. Kristin had parted it and laid down the sides with a comb while his usually fluffy curls look more like an organised pile atop his head.
“Don’t run your hands through it or you’ll ruin my hard work,” she said lightheartedly, patting his shoulder to indicate she was done. “I used to do Dave’s hair like this before he decided he liked to keep it long.”
“It’s amazing, mum.” Tommy gives her a hug, which she returns warmly.
But it’s still not enough time. Now Tommy lays upside down on the sofa, his head hanging off the edge of the seat so as to not ruin his hair, and watching the clock tick. 12:23. “Shoes off my walls, Tommy,” Phil scolds. Tommy adjusts to lay sideways so his feet hang over the armrest. “Better.” His eyes flutter close as boredom soon consumes him. A nap wouldn’t hurt.
“Tommy!”
“Huh? I’m up! I’m up.” The blond shoots up from his seat and comes face to face with Wilbur. He flicks his older brother’s nose to be annoying, because he only learned from the best, of course.
“Ow! Ugh.” Wilbur rubs the bridge of his nose. “Your best friend is here.”
The blond glances up to the clock, and sure enough, it’s time. He gets up, but stops before he leaves the door. “Wil, how’s the hair?”
“Looks great. Go.”
He takes a deep breath, and steps outside. He sees Ranboo talking to his father.
“Oi, Boo!”
Two pairs of eyes turn to him, and Tommy determinedly does not wilt under their expressions. “What? Is something on my face?”
Phil clears his throat. “Nothing. Come here.”
His father reaches up to his hair, which Tommy shies away from. “Stop it, dad. Kristin already fixed it.”
“I’m just trying to fix this side. It’s gone all flat.” Phil fusses for a moment. He then pulls out his wallet and gives Tommy some cash. “Here. Spend it well, and if you’re gonna be home later than 7, you know our telephone number, yeah?”
“I know… Can we go now?”
“Yeah, yeah. Have fun, Toms.”