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It was late. Far too late.
Micheal was probably in bed already, as was Ranboo.
A conversation with Philza had run a tad longer than initially intended, leaving Tubbo to walk home to Snowchester when the moon was high in the sky.
Tubbo walked up to the cozy home, pausing at the door to stomp off the snow which covered his boots before walking in. Everything was silent, confirming the boy's theory that his son and his husband were asleep.
“Tubbo?” He turns, Ranboo sits at the kitchen table.
Tubbo jumps, putting a hand on his heart before smiling at him, “Hey ‘boo.”
“You’re home late,” Ranboo says. His tone isn’t necessarily accusatory, it’s more so a statement. A simple observation. Tubbo sits down at the chair next to him.
He nods, “Phil.” Ranboo chuckles, knowing very well what his husband means.
“Yeah,” He says, squeezing Tubbo’s hand, “What’d you two talk about?”
“Tommy and Micheal, actually,” He replies, “He was wondering about how those two got along.”
“How’d that go?”
“Good, I think,” He replies, “Told him that Tommy and Micheal are inseparable.”
“I swear that kid likes Tommy more than he likes us,” Ranboo jokes.
Tubbo chuckles, smiling fondly, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” The conversation fizzles into a comfortable silence as Tubbo's gaze falls on the moon peeking through the window. Its silver glow casts through the windows, causing shadows to fall onto the floor. Tubbo contently sighs.
“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Ranboo asks, jutting his head to the window.
“It is,” Tubbo smiles. His attention focuses on the moon. He notices the stars which surround and complement it perfectly. The stars and the moon needed each other. They were family. The moon was not the moon without its stars, while the stars couldn’t be the stars without the moon.
“Let's go outside.”
“Hm?”
“To see it better,” Ranboo clarifies, standing up, “The moon in all its glory can’t be seen from inside a house, Tubbo.” He reaches a hand to Tubbo, offering to help him from the chair. Tubbo chuckles and takes it. Ranboo smiles and drags Tubbo along as he excitedly runs to the front door, not even bothering to put shoes on. Luckily, the front porch had been swept clean of any snow the day prior, so Tubbo wasn’t too worried about the enderman hybrid burning himself with the snow. He runs up the railing, Tubbo following close behind him.
“See?” Ranboo lifts a hand to show off the moon, “Isn’t it ten times better out here than in there?” He squints his eyes. He can see the stars much better out here, even making out constellations that he and Tommy would point out to each other during the early days of L’Manberg. He takes a deep breath of the night air, feeling the cold air hit his lungs.
“Yeah,” Tubbo nods, “Yeah, I guess it is.” Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see Ranboo smile as he looks between Tubbo and the moon.
“Tubbo.”
“Hm?”
“Do you know how to dance?”
Tubbo chuckles, rolling his eyes, “Why would I know how to dance, big man?”
“I dunno,” Ranboo shrugs, sighing, “I just thought-”
“I’m messing with you, dude,” Tubbo laughs, “If you wanna dance, we can.”
“I don’t know how to dance either…”
“Then we’ll just bullshit it. Seems to work for everything else we do, huh?” He jokes, taking a couple of steps back from the railing. He offers his hand to Ranboo, bowing like he’s asking a royal to dance with him.
“May I have this dance, Ranboo My Beloved?”
Ranboo chuckles, but takes his hand nonetheless, “You are so weird.”
“You’re weirder,” he replies, taking his hand from behind his back to meet Ranboo’s other hand. The two fall into a rhythm of sorts, miraculously avoiding each other's feet for the most part.
“Fuck, you’re so tall,” Tubbo mumbles, looking up, “Shrink, please.”
“No,” Ranboo shakes his head, “You’re just short.”
Tubbo scowls, “Shut up.”
“Nah, I don’t think I will.” Tubbo laughs as the two settle into silence.
The dance, truly, isn’t anything extravagant. It’s a mess of stumbling bare feet meeting the wood of the patio. It’s Tubbo trying to reach his arms taller than Ranboo so he can spin him. It’s Ranboo anxiously keeping his eyes on his footing, afraid to stumble in the slightest. It’s not a dance which you’d hear about in fairy tales or anything. It’s messy and unprofessional.
It’s perfect.
Tubbo’s eyes fall onto the moon again, then back onto Rambo in front of him. He sighs..
Tubbo was the stars, and Ranboo, his moon.