Work Text:
Snow fell gently against the roof of the Beloved home. It was typical for this time of year - late autumn proved to bring inch upon inch every year. That was fine - the family of three in the home knew what they were getting themselves into, much like two of them knew that raising a child would be difficult.
That didn't mean they were ready for this, though.
Tubbo slumped back in his chair with a defeated groan, staring into the pouting face of his adopted son. Well, their adopted son. Once he and Ranboo had heard Micheal's story, it wasn't hard to make the decision to adopt. And get married. And buy a house.
Okay, so maybe they weren't normal parents, but they had jobs that paid well and an excellent support network. In addition, Micheal was a lovely child. Sure, he was a little odd and socially awkward, but considering that Tubbo was married to the walking embodiment of anxiety, it wasn't something he found strange or frustrating.
Usually.
Today, he found himself extremely frustrated as he sat at the kitchen table with his son.
The toddler stared at him, pouting. He wasn't trying to squirm out of his chair, so it was safe to assume that he wanted to be there, but he eyed the bowl of carrot puree in Tubbo's hands with something that the man couldn't quite distinguish. Micheal didn't do this often, but sometimes he would be picky about who fed him and what he ate.
Both of those were usually fixable. He had already tried switching what food he was giving Micheal, but that hadn't helped, so now he needed a second person.
He sighed again, listening as a pair of feet descended the steps. Maybe his husband could help.
"Hey, can you come here for a minute?"
Ranboo's head appeared in the doorway seconds later. "You alright?"
"Yes and no. Are you busy?" He asked, frowning. "I need your help with Micheal."
"Is he not eating again?" Ranboo asked, now fully entering the room. Tubbo gave a tired nod as he stopped beside Micheal's chair. The toddler seemed pleased, babbling happily and opening his arms for him. Ranboo placed a hand on his head and ruffled his hair, causing Micheal to reach for his fingers and pull them down so that he could play with them.
"Yeah, and it's not just the carrots that he won't eat. He used to love them, but I think he's mad at me." Tubbo huffed.
Ranboo chuckled. "I don't know about that. Maybe he's just being picky about who feeds him. I can give it a try."
Tubbo slid the bowl of carrot puree his way, sitting back and staring at his son. Micheal ignored him completely, trying to pull one of Ranboo's fingers in his mouth instead. When the older of the two tugged it away gently, he whined.
"C'mon, buddy," The taller of the two said gently. "Let's get something to eat, okay?"
The toddler let out another whine, grabbing for his dad again as the man grabbed a chair and scooted up next to him. His face was unusually anxiety-free, unburdened with the daily worry that Tubbo often saw on him. With Micheal, he seemed at ease. Relaxed. Confident. It was a lovely change of pace. Tubbo's eyes flickered to the source of his husbands' relaxation, watching as the toddler scrunched up his nose and turned away from the spoon. Ranboo's eyebrows furrowed as he lowered the utensil, just in time for Micheal to grab it and tug it out of his hand. He watched in abject horror as the toddler stared at it for a long moment and then pushed it in Ranboo's direction.
The action was clumsy enough that carrot puree went everywhere, including Ranboo's face. Tubbo resisted the urge to laugh as he glanced back to Micheal, who was staring at his other dad in confusion. Was it what he intended to do? Probably not.
It was funny, though.
Ranboo set the bowl back on the table and stood, headed toward the counter. He grabbed the hand towel hanging from the stove as he went, wiping his face and reaching blindly for a baby spoon. He found it after a few seconds, wrapping slender fingers around it and tossing it on the table. Tubbo picked it up, placing it back in the bowl as he grabbed the other from the floor and set it on the table. It ultimately needed to go in the sink, but it wasn't like it couldn't be cleaned up later.
"Well, I see why you think he's angry."
"I know he's hungry," Tubbo sighed. "I just don't know why he won't eat."
"Well, he took the spoon from me, so maybe he wants to feed himself?"
"I guess it's worth a shot," Tubbo hummed, picking up the spoon from the table. He gave the bowl to Micheal, who picked it up and studied it for a minute as if he were confused. Then, he pushed the bowl away with a whine, beginning to squirm in his chair. Ranboo managed to prevent the bowl from spilling but couldn't prevent the slowly gathering tears in the toddler's eyes.
Micheal seemed oddly focused while at the same time frustrated. Tubbo and Ranboo shared a look before turning back to their son, who began to babble. It was nearly incomprehensible, but his tone was urgent.
"What is it, buddy?"
"Ta," Micheal babbled. He stumbled over the 'T' sound, becoming increasingly more frustrated as he continued to repeat himself.
"You want to be lifted up?" Ranboo asked. Micheal shook his head, still frustrated.
"Ta!" He said again, pointing at a vacant chair.
Tubbo looked to his side, staring at the chair in confusion. Ranboo did the same, leaving the frustrated toddler to his own devices. Neither of them usually sat in that chair, so he didn't see what was so important about it. The wood on it was nice, sure, but that wasn't something that Tubbo thought he would be interested in.
Unless it wasn't the chair itself. Unless there was someone else who'd sat there….
Oh.
"Are you talking about Tommy, big man?"
"Ta!" Micheal exclaimed, relief washing over his face. He stopped squirming in his chair, seemingly content to stay where he was as long as he got to see Tommy.
Tubbo blinked at him. Tommy had met Micheal a total of two times, but he'd stayed with the family for about a week as he did some freelance work in the area. Apparently, that was just long enough for him to make an impact on Micheal.
"Well, that's a bit of an issue," Ranboo laughed nervously. "Tommy's not exactly here."
The shorter of the two sighed. "We can just call him, right?"
"Yeah, I guess. That still doesn't explain how we'll get him to eat, though."
"Well, we can at least get Tommy on the phone. Maybe he'll cast a magic eating spell or something," Tubbo joked dryly, glancing down at his phone. He missed a small, fond smile aimed his way from his husband and the curious gaze of Micheal as he found Tommy's contact.
The moment was over as he lifted the phone to his ear, listening to it ring. On the third ring, Tommy picked up.
"Tubbo! What's up?"
"Hey, man," Tubbo greeted, pulling the bowl of carrot puree toward himself. He got a spoonful ready, trying to decide how to articulate this situation to Tommy in a way that wouldn't cause him to be laughed at. His best friend seemed to laugh at him no matter what he did, so it was just best to bite the bullet, right?
Right?
"Okay, so here's what's going on. If you laugh in the next thirty seconds, I will castrate you."
Tommy snorted.
"I'm serious."
"Okay, okay. Fine. What's up?"
Sighing, Tubbo pulled his phone away from his ear and set it on the table. He put Tommy on speaker with a quick tap, stirring the puree as he started to explain. "So, sometimes Micheal does this thing where he won't eat unless he's being fed by a specific person."
"That's a little weird but okay."
"Well, today, neither Ranboo or I can feed him. And we're like 99.9 percent sure he wants to see you."
"Oh," Tommy's voice was at an odd pitch, leading Tubbo to believe he was either trying not to laugh or cry. "So you're saying that your kid -" he poorly concealed a snort. "Likes me more?"
"In essence, yeah," Ranboo chimed in.
"Well, okay. Put me on a video chat with the kid, and I'll see what I can do."
Tubbo stopped stirring, blinking down at the phone. Seriously? He couldn't get Tommy to do anything 90 percent of the time, but when it came to Micheal, he folded just like that? Ranboo snorted quietly, causing Tubbo's eyes to flicker to Ranboo's own in a silent conversation.
"Uh, guys?"
Tubbo's eyes dropped to his phone, effectively ending the chatter between the two. "Yeah, yeah. Hold on a minute. Ranboo, can you-"
"Yeah, yeah. Got it." He took the bowl of carrot puree away from Tubbo, who placed his phone on Micheal's tray. It would probably get dirty, but that was okay. Micheal stared at the screen, eyes lighting up when Tommy appeared on the screen.
"Ta!"
Tommy's lip quirked. "No, it's Tommy."
"Toe?"
"No, Tommy."
Micheal's eyebrows furrowed. "To - Toe - To-m."
"Like this. Tah-mm."
"Ta!"
"No -" Tommy opened his mouth to correct the kid again, only to close it. "You know what? Ta is just fine."
"Ta."
"Yep, that's me." The blond nodded. "Is his food ready, Tubbo?"
"Yeah," he said, taking the bowl back from Ranboo. "Here, let me just -"
"Ah, ah," Tommy waggled a finger at him over the phone. "only the kid."
Tubbo lowered the bowl slightly. "Why?"
"It's part of my master plan to make him my minion. I can't have you getting in the way, Tubbo."
He set the bowl down on Micheal's tray with a sigh. "Fine. But if he makes a mess, you're getting on a plane to clean it up."
"I'll get you if he does anything," Tommy decided dismissively. "I have my ways."
"Whatever you say. Come on, Ranboo."
A very confused Ranboo followed him out of the room as Micheal pulled the food over to him, grasping the spoon in his hand.
Once Tubbo had gently shut the door behind them, Ranboo turned to him. He eyed Tubbo skeptically as if he'd lost his mind.
"Are you sure we should be doing this?"
"No," Tubbo sighed. "But Tommy is better with kids than most people think he is, and I'll just wait in the living room. You can go back to working if you've still got stuff to do."
"Are you sure?" Ranboo asked, softening. His eyes held a careful concern that was only really reserved for a few people, but he looked tired. "I know you're tired. If you want to nap for a bit…."
"No, it's okay. I'm all good." Tubbo gave him a half-smile.
"Alright, if you say so. Call for me if you need me."
"Will do, bossman."
Ranboo gave him one last look before ascending up the steps. Once he was done, Tubbo relaxed against the door. Okay, maybe he was a little tired, but weren't all parents? He could deal with this.
Moments passed before he opened the door just a crack. Tubbo peeked in the room just in time to see Micheal pick up a now full spoon, waving it around as he giggled. Tommy laughed loudly from the other end of the line, face and voice softer as he instructed the toddler.
"Micheal, listen, big man, I don't think that's your mouth. In here, see? Aaaah."
Micheal stopped giggling, staring at the phone with wonder. Tubbo's lip quirked as he pictured the puzzled yet focused look on his son's face. Slowly, the toddler dipped the small spoon back into the puree. It was cute enough that Tubbo forgot to be annoyed by the carrot puree on his phone, too focused on the sweet sight in front of him.
"Good job, big man! Now just put it in your mouth, see?" Onscreen, Tommy put a spoon full of something in his own mouth. Micheal copied the action, spooning the puree into his own mouth. The blond cheered on the other end of the line, pumping a fist into the air.
"Right on! Now, just do that again."
Micheal, who had fist pumped with him, gave a gravely serious nod, shoving the spoon back into the bowl. Tubbo was sure he'd have to clean that later, but he honestly didn't care that much. As long as Micheal was eating his vegetables, it wasn't that big of a deal.
He grimaced at his own thoughts.
When did I become an old hen?
Maybe it had been around the time he'd bought a house or around the time his wardrobe started to contain less graphic tees and more collared shirts. Maybe it had been around the time he'd stopped being grossed out by diapers or around the time he'd stood in a courthouse and signed a paper to unite himself and his significant other in the eyes of the law. Maybe it had been around the time that he'd told his dad that his last name was now Beloved. Or, maybe it had been around the time he'd started carrying a picture of his son and husband in his wallet.
Any way he sliced it, it still sucked.
Tubbo continued to watch the two go back and forth for a while, standing in the doorway while Micheal and Tommy ended their bowls bite by bite, and Tommy rambled about anything that came to mind. Micheal listened with wide eyes and solemn nods as if he understood, copying Tommy's actions as he ate. It only felt like a few minutes before they were done.
"It's all gone now, see?" Tommy lifted his bowl to the camera, showing the remains of what he had been eating. True to his word, there was nothing left. Micheal picked up his own bowl and showed the blond what he'd done. Tommy laughed. "Yep. There you go. Now we just need to get one of your dads…."
Micheal's head cocked to the side.
"Oh, uh, what do you call them? Dad? Papa? Pops? Daddy, maybe?" When none of those got a response, he frowned. "Maybe Boo?"
Micheal perked up. "Boo!"
"Ah!" Tommy jumped at the toddler's sudden volume. "So it's that one. Okay, well, can you get Boo for me?"
"Boo!" Micheal called. He squirmed a little in his seat, evidently trying to get out of it. Tubbo almost moved to get Micheal himself but stopped when he heard hurried footsteps coming down the stairs. Soon enough, Ranboo had rounded the corner and breezed right past his husband to get to Micheal, who beamed when he saw his guardian.
"Boo!"
"Hi, buddy. Are you all done with your food?"
Micheal nodded, lifting his arms. Tubbo watched as he moved the bowl, unaware that the phone was also on Micheal's tray. Tommy's eyes widened onscreen as he tried to warn him.
"Hey, big man, I'm gonna fall. You're gonna kill Tubbo's phone - oh, I'm on the floor now."
Ranboo let out a short laugh at his friend's commentary on the phone, picking up the device off of the floor. "Sorry, Tommy. Let me get Tubbo while I deal with Micheal."
"No problem, man. Take your time with the twerp."
"Tubbo!" Ranboo called. "Micheal's done!"
The man in question rolled his eyes. He had been standing behind the door to the kitchen the entire time - he knew that Micheal was done. But he had to act surprised so that no one knew he'd been watching.
He waited a minute before walking in. "That worked?"
Through the carrot puree on his phone, he caught sight of Tommy's shit-eating grin. "Yeah, 'cause I'm the best."
"Shut up," Tubbo groaned, turning off his camera. Tommy's face quickly disappeared from his screen as he followed suit. "I've got to get the food off of my phone."
"Ha! I can't believe you're letting kids get food on your phone now."
"I will bring a gun the next time I see you." He threatened, dampening a washcloth.
"No murdering Tommy at family functions," Ranboo chimed in. Tubbo looked over to find him cleaning Micheal's face with another damp washcloth, attempting to get the toddler to stop squirming away from him. He nearly melted but turned back to his own washcloth instead of cooing over anything that was happening. That would be embarrassing, and Tommy would definitely hear it.
He squeezed the washcloth so that it held an acceptable amount of water.
He'd sooner die than let Tommy hear the quieter conversations between him and his husband.
"Oh, shit. The holidays are coming up soon, aren't they?"
"Language," Ranboo admonished, pulling back. He set the rag on the table and finally picked Micheal up, who clung to his father. "But yeah. They're in like….a month, I think."
"Sorry 'bout that. Not used to you having a kid," he apologized. "Guess I need to start booking a flight home."
"I mean," Tubbo began to wipe down his phone, staring at the ceiling. "I would. Did we already book ours?"
"Not yet. We should probably talk about that tonight, actually."
"Maybe we'll be on the same plane," Tommy joked.
"God, I hope not," Tubbo responded, scrunching up his nose. Ranboo laughed at the sight. "A plane ride with you and Micheal? Sounds like hell."
"I think it would be fun, for the record," Ranboo stated.
"Ranboo gets it," Tommy said proudly, voice muffled as Tubbo dried his phone with his shirt. "He's always happy to see him."
"Oh, good for you," Tubbo taunted. "Why don't you marry him, then?"
Ranboo laughed again, headed out of the room with Micheal. "Absolutely not. I love Ranboo like a brother, but that does not mean I want to marry the guy."
Tubbo snorted, taking the phone off of the speaker with a quick tap of his finger. "He's gone now. I'm glad you don't want to marry someone you see as a brother, though. Good for you."
"You asshole," Tommy laughed. "I didn't mean it like that."
"I think you meant exactly what you said,"
"I didn't mean it like that -"
"You did -"
"Tubbo, please -"
They fell into laughter and then silence as Tubbo walked through the house, eventually ending up at the front door and opening it.
"So," He started, closing the door behind him. "Mission successful?"
"Yeah, for the most part. Got carrot mush all over his seat, though."
"That's fine," Tubbo sighed. "As long as he eats, it's fine."
"Oh, look at you," Tommy laughed. "You sound like a mom. 'Eat your vegetables, son. You need them to grow big and-'"
"When I see you, I'm knocking you out," Tubbo stated. Another, louder laugh came from the man on the other end of the line.
"Not with Micheal in the room, you won't."
"Want to bet?"
Tommy wilted a little. "Tubbo, big man, you shouldn't expose children to such violence at such a young age. You'll ruin his development-"
"Shut up, Tommy-"
"No, I'm serious," he laughed. "What if he becomes another hooligan? You wouldn't want that for your child."
The brunet rolled his eyes, now standing on his porch. "Ranboo will make sure he turns out just fine."
"Whatever you say," Tommy laughed.
Silence passed through the line, causing Tubbo to realize just how far away his best friend was. Instead of living right next door to him, they were countries apart. If he were honest, he'd say that he missed it. Instead, he just stayed silent and stared at the quiet street in front of his home.
"Are you going home for the holidays?" Tommy asked. Tubbo looked at the sky, thinking of his old childhood home and his dad.
"Yeah. Are you?"
"Yeah," Tommy mumbled. "Will and Techno are coming back, too."
"Oh, yeah? You think Fundy and Micheal will get along?"
Tommy let out a minor, contemplative noise. "Probably. Puffy coming home this year?"
"Yeah. We went to her house last year, so now I guess it's time for dear old dad to host."
"Aw, Schlatt isn't that bad," Tommy laughed. "He's a pretty fun guy."
"Between him and Techno, I don't know if Micheal will survive the holidays," Tubbo said solemnly. Tommy guffawed on the other end of the line, effectively causing Tubbo's lip to quirk all on its own.
"He raised you, so he can't be that bad. Ranboo and Will might have to babysit, though,"
"Ranboo definitely will. I'm drinking and opening presents, and that is it, bossman."
"I'll use that time to train Fundy and Micheal, then. I can't possibly go wrong with two minions instead of one."
It was silent for a minute before they both started laughing at the absurdity of it all. It felt like just yesterday that the three of them were kids, dragging Ranboo back to Tommy's room to play Mariokart with them. Now they were adults with lives of their own, forced to keep up over phone calls and virtual games of UNO.
"I miss you, man. Looking forward to seeing you and the twerp."
"I miss you, too," Tubbo replied after a minute. It took him a minute, not because he didn't miss his best friend but because the emotion was almost overwhelming. He loved his home now, but there were times where he wished he were a kid again. "Thanks for bailing me out."
"S'all good. I guess the twerp just likes his uncle the best."
"All right, that's it. I'm hanging up on you."
"Tubbo, wait-"
"Bye."
"Tubbo-!"
The voice cut out as he hit the end call button, greeted with a goofy picture of his best friend and a number.
01:02:39
Tubbo smiled.
Even if Tommy was Micheal's favorite, he didn't think that he minded that much.