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Taako Taaco is many things. A kickass wizard, a kickass chef, a kickass dude, he could go on if you asked him at the right time. Taako is a lot.
The one thing Taako isn't? A touchy-feely guy.
Not him. No sir. No way in hell. No hand holding, no snuggle times, nothing. Did your shoulder accidentally brush up against his while you were walking? Get ready for an over the top gasp and an even more overdramatic fake faint. Taako could win awards for how gracefully he managed to get out of group hugs. He hardly even did high-fives or handshakes, and maybe you could catch a fist bump if he knew he would never see you again afterward.
That's how it had been for a long time. Hell, he remembered the first time he actually met Merle, and he reached his hand out for a handshake and Taako did nothing but look at his hand like he didn't know what to do with it. Like it offended him.
First big triumph they had as a team someone, he can’t remember who attempted to pull them all into one of, what Taako now knows it as, signature group-bear-hugs. With exquisite practice, Taako swerved out of that shit, ducked a head under his arm, and was walking backward far away from the scene with finger guns. It was too skillful for anyone to be mad or even slightly disappointed.
Back then it made the others think Taako had a thing about germs, but no, touching just wasn't the Taako Way. After that fateful hug-dodge incident, everyone would soon find out that, along with being many things, Taako had many personal rules. "Look but don't touch" was at the very top.
Until shit started getting super wack.
Don't get him wrong, he is more than happy for anyone and everyone around him to keep their hands to themselves. There were still more people, way more people, worlds of people he was more comfy about keeping at a very large and noticeable distance (in more ways than one), but maybe, now, there were a few people who could... come a little closer, or whatever.
"Few" meant three. Exactly three. No more, no less. Three.
His sister was the first exception to his rule.
To be fair, she always had been. How could she not be? For as long as Taako’s mind could stretch back, the two of them had been glued to each other’s side. Same clothes, same minds, same face. She was a walking home, walking familiarity, the only thing close to any kind of consistency he’s ever had, and he knew he was the same for her. He knew their bond. He knew every aspect of what they meant to each other.
He also knew that they clung to that in every sense of the word.
Cold nights on the road with a poor excuse of a blanket, long terrible storms and long terrible days. They needed to be close to survive. Sure, sometimes it was just an emotional thing-- they would embrace and they’d feel if they’d let go, even for a moment, the other would slip through their arms, never to be seen again. It was more like that now, but back when they were roaming around they really did need to be stuck with each other in order to live. It was all they’d known.
Taako thought they’d grow out of it. Lup thought they’d grow out of it.
They never grew out of it.
Taako will be awake while everyone else has found their way asleep, except for his sister who tries to creep into his room, thinking he too was asleep. But the moment she would see him leaning upside down off of his bed, trying to paint his nails like that, she’d drop her (pretty bad) stealth act.
“What’re you doing up?” She had asked many times before.
“What’re you doing up?” Taako had echoed.
“I asked you first.”
“I asked you second.”
It was the same thing every time. It was never not amusing.
After the routine twenty seconds of glaring, they’d crawl into bed together. Sometimes back-to-back, sometimes front-to-front. Lup would always sleep better with her brother, and Taako could finally sleep at all. It was a mutually good time.
They’ll have days where they just have to sit against each other for hours. Neither of them says anything, normally, they just sit in complete silence, recharging. They had never noticed that they did it, but, eventually, it became so common that the rest of the crew had noticed and called it “Twin’s Off Day”. And while that was a slightly uncreative name for it, that’s exactly what it was.
Lup was Taako’s day off. Taako’s safe space. Taako’s little island in the middle of some weird, fucky sea. Thus making her an exception to the no touchy rule.
Lup was h ome.
But as everyone on this wooshy-wooshy flying shit-ship was soon to find out, there’s no Lup situation without a Barry situation.
Taako was just as surprised as he was when he found out, “Hey, I kind of trust this guy enough to give him a shoulder pat or let him nudge my arm when he makes a shitty joke”. But then again, Barry had to watch Lup warm up to him first. That’s probably another reason why Taako saw him fit to connect with, even just a little. He didn’t have much of a choice either. They kind of all lived in the same place. And since Taako wanted to be around Lup a lot, and Barry was around Lup a lot, Taako often found himself around Barry.
He often wondered if the closeness of those two is what he and his sister looked to everyone else. Inseparable, but in a different way.
Of course, Taako could see the appeal in his sister-- they have the same face, the same hella hot face, and shit it was Lup! What isn’t there to love about Lup?-- he got that. But Barry? Sure, he had the whole nerd thing. The adorkable kind of guy. But he could never really see him as anything past that. He never really knew him as anything past horrendous blue jeans and awkward laughs.
He started to see it after some time, some bonding moments here and there, but it really hit him when he snuck into their room one night. When he needed his sister, some quality Lup time. He had done it before. There had been nights where Barry had woken up to find Lup’s back pressed delicately against his chest, and Taako’s back pressed against Lup’s. It was a thing.
It wasn’t, like, an every night thing, no. Taako could certainly go many months or even years without doing so. He could push himself off on his own in his room or stay in the kitchen and prepare breakfast until everyone else woke up.
But it did, in fact, happen enough to be a thing.
When it did happen, Lup would end up being in the middle of a boy sandwich. Brother to one side and boyfriend to the other. But the night everything clicked it wasn’t like that-- Lup had slept a little too close to the wall for Taako to snake in without waking her up. And, once Barry had awoken from Taako not-so-stealthily climbing over a mountain of pillows at the end of the bed, understood the situation instantly, and shifted over a couple spaces so Taako had room between them.
With Lup in his arms and Barry’s back pressed against Taako’s, he instantly got it.
Barry was warm.
Barry was warm, and he was sturdy, and when he fell back asleep his breathing fell into such a steady pattern that was so oddly calming that it was distracting. He snored just a little, just enough for it to not be annoying and later, after confronting Lup about his findings, she’d tell him that there was a little squishiness here and there.
He had messy, floppy hair that was fun to fluff up. Whenever he laughed too hard at a joke his forehead would bump a shoulder next to him (which Taako had come to find endearing instead of annoying, though he’d rather get fucked by a blender than admit it) and he was, in fact, squishy.
Point is, there was a lot of Barry. Taako had known this before, but now Barry was a concept he could wrap his mind around. He understood The Barry.
Which made Barry the other exception to the big rule. Because Barry was comfort.
For a while, this was all okay. Taako had years to adjust to these modifications to his philosophy. It wasn’t the worst thing ever, actually- being comfortable with people wasn’t as shitty as he had made it out to be, go figure. He could lean against Barry as he did his sister’s hair, or have Barry’s legs over his lap as he played with Lup’s makeup and it was actually enjoyable. Granted, it was a long road for him to let it be enjoyable, but here he was. Two people. He could do that, he could stomach it.
But when he started to be that kind of comfy around Magnus? That’s when he had to take a step back and realize what the fuck was happening.
After all, he’d been around the guy for a decent amount of time. He thought if he was going to get some kind of physical attachment to him it would’ve already happened. Better late than ever, or whatever the fuck.
He started realizing it when he finally grilled Magnus enough to let him paint his nails. The big, beefy guy had a real beefy habit of biting them down to gross nubs and while he had the strength to lift almost everyone on the team at one time, couldn’t find the strength to stop biting his damn nails. Luckily Taako and his thirty-six different colors of nail polish had the perfect solution to that problem.
He’d put all of his bottles in a little basket to let Magnus choose from, along with some magazine he’s read a thousand times (but was fully prepared to act like he hadn’t) as he waited for the doofus to pick a color. They had laid out a towel on the floor of Magnus's room just in case anything would spill. It wasn’t like Taako wasn’t confident in his nail painting abilities- oh, hell, was he confident in his nail painting abilities- he just wasn’t very confident in Magnus's “stay still for a long period of time as anyone makes funny small-talk and also a tiny brush is going across your nail” ability.
Magnus was sat criss-cross as he shifted through the bottles with a surprising amount of gentleness with Taako laying on his stomach in front of him, his feet in the air, swinging softly as he flipped through familiar pages of a cheesy and very old magazine. The room was pretty quiet other than Taako’s fingers tugging across plastic-y pages and Magnus's carefully pushing glass bottles against glass bottles. In all honesty, Taako was just waiting for his bud to give up trying to make up his mind and pick whatever color had the coolest name.
Probably some weird orange or a way to bright yellow Taako had bought during a certain phase. Something that Taako could make fun of him for, maybe, or something that would drive Lup mad whenever she saw the color on him. Something humorous. Whatever it was, Taako just didn’t expect Magnus to take this very seriously.
So he was a bit surprised when he turned his head after around, what, maybe six minutes of waiting? To see a rather proud Magnus and a rather striking shade of red accompanied by a flashy gold topcoat. Once Taako leaned forward a bit with a squint he discovered, yeah, these would look hella fine with each other. In fact, he wore the combination often. He threw his eyebrows up.
“Never thought you’d be a man of taste, my dude.” Taako had stated simply. “No pun intended, but color me impressed.”
Magnus just shrugged, though he still had that goofily proud smile on his face. Maybe he had remembered Taako wearing these once and was just very proud of himself that he could remember it, or maybe he was impressed with himself for the exact reason Taako was. Whatever the reason, he had a job to do now.
Now, Taako had been doing this all his life. He’d been painting his nails since he could hold a brush- at least, that’s what Lup said. He’s been doing his nails, his sister’s nails, and lately Lucrecia’s, all perfect, all pretty, but all long . That was the one thing that was different between Magnus’s situation and everyone else he’s ever painted.
His nails were stubby and short. Still doable, yes, of course, but a pain in his ass.
With an overdramatic sigh, he took the red and gave it a little shake, getting it ready for use. He knew what he was getting into, unfortunately. Hopefully, this would help his dirty little habit and he’d have a longer canvas for next time. He also sat up because, unlike when he painted Lup’s Goddess Claws, he couldn't just be comfortable to do this. He had to be in a working position. So he had mirrored Magnus with his crisscross.
Taako then unscrewed the cap with one twist and set the bottle next to his knee. After that, he took Magnus’s hand.
And holy shit.
He didn’t hold his hand, no, not even close. He had basically just tugged it over, just briefly touching it. But instantly, the moment he felt his skin, he put Barry’s warmth to shame. This dude was like a fucking furnace. It had to be illegal. His fingers also felt, rightfully and expectedly, callused and warn. It wasn’t a bad thing though-- tough man hands. That’s Mangus. Mangus Man Hands.
Taako carefully set his toasty paw on his knee, which was propped up with a pillow underneath, with his fingers facing him before he started taking damn notes about his hand.
Magnus’s hand didn’t feel the way he thought it would when he had avoided something like this before. Of course, it wasn’t like he had always managed to completely avoid getting contact with the guy- sometimes, in battles for planets they weren’t able to save in the first place, things would get messy. Especially messy if you’re a certain wizard who has the tendency to want to make sure he has everything with him before getting onto his ship, even if it means getting surrounded by many killy-things. Messy enough to require being saved by a big strong human who could throw him over his shoulder in one movement and keep him safe the whole jog home. Magnus had saved Taako’s ass more times than either of them bothered to remember.
But there was a big difference between grabbing someone’s arm to save their life and gently placing a hand on your knee in a calm and friendly activity. A rather large difference between rushed and hurried, fearful swats and scoops in comparison to having a pinky drum against your lower thigh because somebody can’t sit still for that long. It was beyond different. He hadn’t been expecting that.
When saving Taako’s precious ass, Magnus took on the role of a bear. He fucking demolishes all that’s in his way, scoops up his cubs and honey, and gets the absolute fuck out of there. His presence is harsh, it’s hasty, and it’s powerful. Full of sweat and blood and meaning. He wants to keep his friends safe, always. And more often than not, he does. Even when he can’t, he finds a way to make up for it or at least tries to until he’s turned down by someone being far too forgiving then he was expecting. To put it simply, when downtime is concerned, he wasn’t expecting Magnus’s touch to be so clean feeling. He expected the same sweaty and grimy, yet somewhat comforting feel Magnus’s arms had always given him when shielding him from a blast of god knows what or grabbing him to stop him from doing something stupid. That was the biggest plot twist of them all.
When he wasn’t running around doing anything and everything to stay busy and helpful, Magnus smelled like wood. He smelled like firewood, to be more specific. Like he just put a fresh log in a fireplace and sat by it for a little, only there was no fireplace, and Taako had no idea how he got a scent like that on his person. His palms weren’t exactly smoothed, of course, he did a lot of rough work with his hands. His knuckles were very bruised and banged up, but Taako couldn’t find it upon himself to chip points for aesthetic. It was Magnus. This was Magnus. As Taako smoothed the brush over his thumb, he decided that when Magnus wasn’t busy saving his friends and punching shit up, he was a puppy.
That big proud smile he gave him when he complimented his color choice. The way he just let Taako take his hand and place it wherever. How he can’t sit still for more than one fucking minute without moving something. Taako had to bite back a smile. He was a puppy.
A warm, nice-smelling puppy. With man hands. Man-Handed Puppy.
Taako tried to settle on a word to describe him. He gently set the hand he had painted down on the towel and gently took his next hand, watching how both of Taako’s dainty little fuckers looked like crumbs compared to bread. How he could feel the heat radiating off of him while his hand hovered over his with the paint brush. Lup was home, Barry was comfort, what was Magnus?
Taako couldn’t put his finger on it.
After that night, Taako let up on his rule around Magnus. He wouldn’t say he suddenly gave him a pass just from one nail-paint, oh no, this wasn’t any Barry Bluejeans situation. He didn’t have Lup’s input on it to back him up. Not to say Lup wasn’t comfortable around Magnus, oh no, she forces him to give her piggy-back rides what seems like daily. But this was different.
He had to test the waters by himself. He had to ease into it like a bath drawn too hot. So, he started small.
Like in the mornings, when Magnus would be crouched over a coffee pot, Taako would brush against him with a soft “morning” under his breath. Or maybe in the kitchen, when he’d be cooking and Magnus had just stepped in to get a drink, he’d take his wrist and tug him over to try a sample of what he was cooking. Every time he’d do something small like that, Taako never failed to notice the way Magnus’s eyes would light up, like he was surprised and over the moon excited to be chosen for Taako Touchies. Of course, who wouldn’t want to be blessed with the touch of Taako, but it was still flattering.
Soon enough he moved on to bigger challenges. Like once, Taako had cooked one of Magnus’s favorite meals and wrapped himself around his arm to lead him to his surprise. There was also the one time he completely sprawled across his lap as a joke and stayed there for a whole three minutes (revolutionary, he knows). But it all came up to one night on the outer deck of the Starblaster, where both of them had met from not being able to sleep, just to chat to get their minds cleared up. They were both standing close for the sake of talking softly, leaning against the cold railing of the ship. It was rather cold. Taako was cold.
Taako was really rather cold. Magnus, if he were to refer to the notes he had taken a while back, was very warm. It was only logical that Taako were to lean against him, just a little.
He was probably still talking about something, too. Taako had a knack for mindlessly blabbing about absolutely nothing to distract others while he did something bum-fuck stupid. And while Magnus had the tendency for being easily distracted, he didn't take the bait one bit with this. His arm went stiff under Taako’s pressure, which immediately made him think he had done something wrong. That he really shouldn’t have built something up like this in his head, and that he should’ve kept to himself.
And then Magnus was moving.
Taako was ready to squirm away, spin on his heel, dying from embarrassment and pretending it never happened when he saw him next cycle. He was absolute, 100% prepared for that. But it turns out, he didn’t need to be, because all Magnus was doing was making it so Taako would fall against his chest, with his arm hovering over his shoulders, waiting, asking.
“Can I?” Magnus eventually mumbled out, drawing to Taako’s attention that somewhere along the way of getting here, he had stopped talking. “I know you aren’t that big of a fan of stuff like this, and I don’t want to freak you out, so-”
Taako looked up at him. He was asking. Like, genuinely asking if he could put an arm around his shoulder. He gave him a big, relaxed, sleepy smile.
“‘Course you can, big guy.”
That was important. It wasn’t just a “yeah, sure” or an “of course” on its own. It was specific to Magnus. This was Taako giving away his third Touch Card. It was signed off with an arm around his shoulders and his nose filled with the scent of timber.
They talked a little more that night, nothing specific or important that Taako could remember. All he can recall is that he felt sleepier soon, and was leaning more against Magnus, to the point where Magnus had to pick him up and take him off to bed. That moment, half asleep, and bundled in his arms, Taako found the word to describe him.
Magnus was safe.