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It was the dim, artificial glow of the credits that coaxed Ranboo’s eyes back open from his partial slumber. Faint movie soundtrack drifted from the speakers, and he had to lean over to grab the remote and crank down the volume. The blanket draped over his lap was tucked to the side and buried in between two cushions, replaced by the heavy weight of Tubbo’s head.
The menu screen flickered on, making blue and white light dance across Tubbo’s peaceful face. Ranboo could see his long lashes against pale cheeks, and a soft puff of air on his jeans every time Tubbo sighed. Even though Ranboo was the one who was supposed to be tired, Tubbo had been the one to fall asleep first.
If it was due to Ranboo’s fingers threading through Tubbo’s hair- well, neither of them had to mention it in the morning. But it wasn’t quite the hour to forget moments like that just yet.
Warmth bloomed in the corner of Ranboo’s chest that held his skipping heartbeat, and he had to fight back a shudder lest it wake the boy in front of him. Instead he raised his hands in front of his chest and curled his fingers into loose fists, gnawing on his bottom lip. Tubbo looked too peaceful to disturb, but there was an itch in his fingertips that egged him on to reach out and touch Tubbo’s nearly there bedhead.
He doesn’t. Not necessarily because it’d be weird, since he’s done it before- but the fact that this was real had sunk into his subconscious for the second time that day. It catches in his throat and Ranboo has to look around the room to ground himself: stream equipment piled up on the side of the couch, a suitcase of clothes tossed haphazardly on the floor, Michael sitting in front of the T.V.
Ranboo almost feels like pinching himself, just to test if it was actually all a dream. The ache in his back and the weight in his lap should be proof enough, but there was something otherworldly about actually being able to touch the boy in front of him. No more screens blocking the view, or the internet cutting out his sleep schedule, or waking up as the other bidded him good evening.
On the plane to the U.K, Ranboo entertained the idea of waking up to see Tubbo’s face looking back at him. Now- as the body in front of him began to squirm himself awake- the reality felt too good to be true. Absent-mindedly, Ranboo began to comb through his hair again.
“Tubbo?” Ranboo’s voice dropped just above a whisper, fingers stilling in a knot at the base of Tubbo’s skull. His- his someone smiled up at him with a syrupy sweet face, hands wriggling beneath the oversized sweater sleeves.
“G’morning boss man.” Tubbo replied, words blurring together. He covered his face as he yawned, but didn’t bother getting up from his spot resting in Ranboo’s lap. Tubbo rubbed at his eyes, a sleepy tear trailing down one of his cheeks.
“Not yet, Tubs.”
Tubbo grumbled at that, nose wrinkling into a grimace. He drapes one of his arms across his face, and Ranboo yanks his hand away from Tubbo’s hair as if he got burnt. “Why’d you wake me up, then.” An eye roll, although Ranboo can’t see it, “Bastard.”
“Hah- hey, no.” Ranboo tsk’s, gently nudging the back of Tubbo’s head with his leg. He really doesn’t want to move from this spot, but they’ve been laying together for the past four hours and it was getting late. Ranboo nudged Tubbo again, who tried to bat at him. “We’ve got to go to bed now. You need to get up.”
Tubbo groans, twisting his body away from the light emitting from the T.V. “No I don’t.”
“You-” Ranboo starts conjuring up a witty retort, only to pause when his brain catches up with his ears. His hands feel clammy, and Ranboo’s not sure if it’s because of the heat or his own nerves. “You don’t?”
“It’s comfy here.” Tubbo states bluntly, stretching and grappling for the blanket. When he fails- making it further wedged into the couch, he grimaces and gives up easily. Instead, Tubbo yawns and starts to close his eyes again.
“I- Tubbo, it’s my lap.” Ranboo blamed the heat on his cheeks, which were turning pink. “Let me go to bed, at least.”
“No.”
“No?”
“Please.” Tubbo asks, but it’s less of a request for Ranboo and more of a statement. He looks down at Tubbo, who cracks his eyes open a second time. Locking eyes makes both of them smile. “I never got to see you like this till now.”
It was Ranboo’s turn to grimace, and he reached a hand up to adjust the bangs over his eyes in a nervous habit. “Like- like what?”
Tubbo waves an arm up and down Ranboo’s frame, making vague hand movements at their current sitting- sleeping- cuddle position. “This.”
“I-” Ranboo laughs and shakes his head down at the other, who doesn’t look phased by his reaction. An inkling in the back of Ranboo’s mind wonders if he really meant it. “You just gestured to all of me.”
“Yeah.”
“Huh.” It’s the third time in twenty four hours that Ranboo’s decision really sinks into him all over again, and he briefly wonders how many more times he has to come to the same conclusion. Tubbo reaches up and starts to twirl one of his hoodie strings between his fingers, and Ranboo doesn’t move. Part of him worries that if he does, the illusion will break.
“You know I never- I never got to- hah.” He really had no idea where he was going with this, but felt the need to voice it regardless. Tubbo watches him with practiced patience. “Wow.”
“Wow.” Tubbo echoes, raising his eyebrows like he held a secret buried somewhere on his face. He hasn’t stopped looking at Ranboo since he woke up, and to be honest- Ranboo was impressed.
“Tubbo, this is happening.” Ranboo says, though it’s really directed at nobody in particular. His words echo back at him, and one of Tubbo’s hands slip underneath his own. Piano fingers curl around calloused scars. “I’m- I’m here. With you, for four months.”
“Oh god.” Tubbo huffs and he sits up, scooting off of Ranboo’s lap finally- though the grip on each other’s hands tighten. Instead of his head, Tubbo drapes his legs across Ranboo’s lap. “‘Boo, I’m tired. Save the morals for later.”
“Okay, okay.” Ranboo rolls his eyes, shaking his head affectionately. Since they were both tired, touch felt like second nature, and he resumed playing with Tubbo’s hair like he did earlier. It’s an awkward reach, but Tubbo bumps his forehead against Ranboo’s hand like a cat anyway. “For you, Tubbo.”
That makes the other laugh, pursing his lips and sitting back to look at Ranboo more closely. Without letting go, Tubbo drags Ranboo’s hand with him and puts his two pointer fingers together. “For me?”
“I don’t think I could for anyone else.” Ranboo admits, tongue in cheek. He moves to his knees and turns so they’re properly facing each other, but the movement just drags Tubbo with him. His comment makes Tubbo flush red.
“Cheesy bastard.” Tubbo complains, and Ranboo chuckles. Their hands finally pull away from their hold, but the loss of warmth is exchanged for the tense close proximity. If Tubbo was to lean a little bit further… “You’re not even filming.”
“Do I have to be cheesy only for the camera? Can’t I do it just for us.”
“What do you gain from that, huh?” Tubbo challenges, cocky. Ranboo reaches forward, movement slow and deliberate. When fingertips brush against a pale cheek, Tubbo doesn’t jolt away, and Ranboo lets himself cup his face. It’s subtle and featherlight, as if too much presence could shatter the moment hanging in the air between them.
Both of them know what’s happening when Ranboo responds, “This.”
Tubbo leans in- impossibly close, and it makes Ranboo’s heart skip a beat. His eyes dance with mischief and hope, and Ranboo wants to drown in them. “You don’t mean-”
“Tubbo, I-'' It was Ranboo’s turn to blush again, the pink tint in his cheeks growing a few shades darker. He opens and closes his mouth, both at a loss for words and having so much to say his brain just halts the process. He reciprocates the lean, ducking his head so they’re a little more level.
Tubbo’s voice is soft, and could lull Ranboo to sleep given any other circumstance. This time, it causes a tremor down his spine he didn’t prepare for. “Can you kiss me?”
They’re impossibly close now, and if Ranboo didn’t want to he could slip a hand between the gap of their mouths and push Tubbo away from his face. He takes a moment to breathe, and both of them nervously snicker when Tubbo feels it on his cheek and wrinkles his nose.
“I wouldn’t do it to anyone else.”
Ranboo’s the one who breaches the gap, and it works just as well as any other kiss would. Their noses bonk together, and when Tubbo purses his lips too much it makes Ranboo laugh and barely make contact with his own mouth. Instead, it dissolves into a chaste peck on the corner of Tubbo’s lips, and Ranboo can vaguely taste the salt from abandoned popcorn. Neither of them know where to put their hands, so Tubbo lets them hang by his side and Ranboo gently grabs his forearms- bunching up the sweater.
It’s not as awful as either of them thought, but there’s no sparks that Tubbo always saw in movies and T.V. shows. The intimacy of it all settles like a weighted blanket around his pounding heart, and his cheeks hurt from smiling into it. For Ranboo, he tries to wrack his brain for the songs that promised him something magical- but came up with nothing. Maybe that was a good thing: just to have this moment to himself. Never before seen, and never will be.
They pull away, but come back to each other as a sunflower would in the daylight, and Ranboo keeps his head bent down to bump their foreheads together. Eyelids flutter shut, though butterflies get caught in their throats and Tubbo lets out an airy laugh. Ranboo just sighs.
“I’m a shit kisser, aren’t I.”
Even with eyes closed, Ranboo could taste the grin in his words. He hoped Tubbo could sense it too. “I liked it.”
“You like everything I do.” Tubbo countered with a laugh, and Ranboo can feel heat rise in his cheeks.
“Yeah.”
Neither are sure who opens their eyes first, but nearly identical pairs of murky grey lock together and dance with a certain kind of fondness. Ranboo pinches the back of his wrist and jolts at the sudden spark of pain. He wasn’t dreaming, then.
“Is there anything you hate about me?” Tubbo asks off-handedly, and they still haven’t stopped touching foreheads, haven't bothered to pull away yet. Hypnotized, Tubbo said once. Hypnotized, and it’s awful. “Be honest.”
Ranboo leans in a second time, and this time it’s Tubbo who meets him halfway to close the gap. This kiss was slower than the first one, and Ranboo makes sure to tilt his head so their noses don’t get in the way. Tubbo smiles into the kiss, and it falls apart just as easily as the first one. When he speaks, he doesn’t move away from Tubbo’s lips. “That you didn’t ask me sooner.”
“Really.” Tubbo has to break them apart just to snort at the cheesy line, but one of his hands reaches up to brush his fingers against his lips.
“No, Tubbo. Of course not.” Ranboo almost couldn’t breathe, the butterflies in his stomach causing havoc as he watched Tubbo recover.”Is there anything for me?”
“Everything.”
“Oh, okay.” Ranboo chuckles, rolls his eyes. His entire body feels like it’s tingling, and he has to shake his foot to get rid of the excess energy. I see how it is. One kiss and you’re gone, huh?”
“Ranboooo you’re being a dick on purpose.” Tubbo complains, jutting his bottom lip out in an overdramatic pout. He crosses his arms, but it’s weak and with no ill intent- because they get tugged apart by one of Ranboo’s hands easily.
“So are you Tubbo.”
“No ‘m not!” He protests, which succeeds in making Ranboo laugh. Ranboo wants to kiss him again, but he’s too hooked on Tubbo’s every word and wouldn’t want to interrupt the only boy who made him brave enough to kiss back in the first place. “I just said that if I had anything for you- it’d be everything.”
“What does that even mean?”
“Come back to bed, boss man.” Tubbo deflects, but Ranboo follows him anyway. They crawl up to the loft and discard the blankets in favour of facing each other, eyes already growing heavy. Tubbo closes his for a minute before trying to speak again, but he’s halfway gone. “It means-”
“Mhm?” Ranboo is drowsy himself, his thoughts catching up to him and dragging him further into the comfort of the mattress. He purses his lips as he hums to let Tubbo know he’s listening, and Ranboo reaches a hand out to Tubbo’s side of the bed.
Tubbo reaches out, but hovers above Ranboo’s palm. Neither of them are sure who yawns first, but they share a moment of breathing in sync. “It means I’d give you everything.”
“Everything?” Ranboo echoes, and he tries to memorize the shape of Tubbo’s sleepy smile before his eyes force themselves closed. The last thing he sees as his body gives out is Tubbo half-lidded and returning the eye contact. “For- for what?”
“This.”
They fall asleep with Tubbo’s hand on top of Ranboo’s, curled protectively over his thumb and half of his wrist.