Archive of Our Own

The People of End (or Ender as their nickname was) didn’t really have any sort of gendered words. Not in the original dialect at least.

Pronouns, biological sex, and gender identity were all a concept introduced to them by the Overworld, and even when they did, The End used them fluidly. These universal nicknames like ‘He’ or ‘She’ or ‘They’ or ‘Xe’ were fun and all but in the end, they were no different than clothes, just a way to express oneself however they desired.

Ender People had no ‘Biological sex’ to begin with. They reproduced through a process of mingling souls that anyone could do with a partner. There was no drive to push any sort of ‘Gender Norms’ because ‘Gender’ was something of the Overworld that didn’t apply to them.

All of this was told to Ranbob by his mother. She was part Ender like he was, with yellow and blue eyes and a black and purple speckled pattern on her skin. She didn’t know how much Ender she was, and thus, Ranbob didn’t know how much he was either, but it was enough to call themselves one. Ender blood was in their veins and she had somewhat a connection to the culture.

From what Ranbob heard (and later experienced himself), their family was lenient with gender and most of which just went with whatever title they were given. His mother was ‘Feminine’ and she was referred to as such. She liked how being ‘Feminine’ looked on her so it stuck. She was given the universal nicknames of ‘She’ and ‘Her’ and she liked to wear flowy dresses with flowers in her hair.

Ranbob was seen as ‘Masculine’ from a young age so that stuck too. ‘He’ and ‘Him’ for him, which he liked. Some of the time at least.

‘Masculinity’ felt good some days. Really good- he would look in the mirror and stand a little bit taller, smiling at himself as he did. He liked traditionally masculine things like suits, he didn’t mind his deeper voice, he was happy with it some days. Very happy.

Other days, he was indifferent. It existed, he was fine with it, that’s all there was to it.

And there were days when he had a pit in his stomach looking in a mirror. There were days where he stopped in the middle of putting on a suit because- it wasn’t what he wanted today. It felt heavy on his shoulders and itchy against his skin. He wanted to wear something else- anything else.

And there was a day where upon searching for something that felt right, he stumbled across one of his mother’s old dresses. It was silky smooth against his skin and a sudden desire hit him like minecart, nearly making him stumble.

He tried on everything else he could think of. The more androgynous outfits he didn’t mind but it was more like a bandaid then anything to help in the long run. Only when everything else was spent did he unhook the dress from the hanger with a similar amount of caution as he would a bomb. He ran a hand over the fabric again, melting at the very same feeling it gave him, and in a moment of weakness, slipped it on.

It didn’t fit perfectly as it wasn’t made for him but regardless it looked… Good.

It was a simple dress, deep purple with thin straps and long enough to reach his ankles. There was a slit on the right side and the top part around his chest had a ruffle pattern in it. The style wasn’t something he particularly liked but everything else seemed to feel okay. Better than okay, really.

Ranbob remembers wearing a dress in his early years. He remembers experimentally tugging on his mother’s before asking for one himself, to which his mother smiled and presented one to him by the end of the week. A simple black one with a white ribbon around the waist and a bow tied neatly in the back of it.

It had been easy to run in, he remembers. Sprinting across the city, playing hide and go seek tag with the other kids his age, able to tuck his legs under the ruffles of the dress comfortably as he hid.

He stopped wearing it when people started to call him ‘He’ and ‘Him’ because that’s what he was supposed to do, right? He presented masculine because that was what was expected of him. If he liked a few ‘Girly’ things then he was just a bit different. Like how they called this one girl a ‘Tomboy’ for liking boy things but the opposite for him. That was just the way things were.

His skin prickled the longer he thought about it- the longer he stared at himself in the mirror, wearing that dress. People would look at him differently if he wore it outside of his room. They would stare, they would judge, they would ask questions he didn’t have the answer to and-

Ranbob can’t do that.

The dress is stripped off and shoved in the back of the closet where it’ll rarely see the light of day ever again. No matter how good it feels, he can’t do it. That’s weird and complicated and people will ask and he’s not doing that.

Can’t do it.

Won’t do it.

He likes being masculine sometimes so that’s what he’s sticking with. That’s all he is, and it doesn’t matter if some days he leans towards feminine or both or something else entirely, he doesn’t want to deal with that. Any of that. It’s all- unfamiliar. It makes him feel strange and he’s just…

He’s masculine. That’s as complicated as it has to be. Everything else is just not worth the trouble.

(Ranbob buries any feelings that he doesn’t know what to do with.)

—

It happens by mistake. Slip of the tongue.

Someone refers to him as ‘They’ and ‘Them’ by accident. They don’t even realize it until the end of the conversation and promptly apologies, to which Ranbob waves them off.

There was a strange feeling in his chest when he heard it. Unknown but good, he thinks. Good in a way he can’t explain.

He doesn’t want to think about the implications of it. The memory is stored away deep in his head.

—

Over the years, his whole life is flipped on its head.

His mother dies and the ghastly remains of Dream take advantage of that. Dream who makes his head spin and forces his hand to spill the blood of everyone he’s ever known and suddenly, he is alone. Alone for days, months, years- isolated from everyone else and killing anybody who gets too close.

He drifts in and out of consciousness. Control is out of his hands and free will is an illusion.

Four fishermen stumble across the city and curiously explore it. Dream takes the reins and Ranbob closes his eyes, unable to watch the tragedy about to unfold.

Then things get messy and-

Ranbob is awoken with a start, gasping for the first breath he has taken with no strain in years, and he tastes freedom in the purest forms. Because somehow, someway, they managed to break Dream’s hold over him and he is free and nobody had to die and-...

And he’s the last one left in the Lost City of Mizu. Alone in a city Dream wanted to ruin. He pales at the idea of staying here all by himself. So as the four fishermen gear up to leave after an exhausting and eventful day, he extends an invitation to all of them to return to the city and stay with him.

They tell him they’ll think about it and leave. Ranbob watches them go with a sinking heart and spends the rest of the night alone. The city is cold and Ranbob feels like a stranger within it. Dream had done a number on the place- a number on him- and he doesn’t know what to do now.

Mizu was never this quiet before. Ranbob can’t bring himself to sleep in the quiet.

In the morning, Ranbob gets some fresh air and soaks in the sun’s rays, feeling the warmth on his skin for the first time in too long. He stares out into the sea, knees tucked into his chest, and wonders if Mizu’s legacy will die with him. If Dream really will win despite his presence being banished from his head.

Then, in the distance, Ranbob spots four boats sailing towards him with familiar faces and bags packed in each. The relief that hits him is staggering, though he doesn’t let it show on his face. Instead, Ranbob stands tall and proud, and greets the four of them wholeheartedly before inviting them inside.

Ranbob may not know them very well but at this point, any company is better than none. He fears dying and leaving Mizu to rot, and even if he won’t admit it outloud, he fears dying alone just as badly. Trusting the strangers who finally freed him of Dream’s influence is his best option.

It’s awkward at first, though that was to be expected. Ranbob and the others shuffle around each other, making small talk but otherwise uncertain as to what to say. Ranbob was possessed and tried to kill them so he understands the apprehension. They might’ve figured this out shortly after he was freed and Ranbob has already apologized more than a few times but Isaac assures him that it wasn’t his fault.

Even if it feels like it is.

But it’s a limited city. They can’t really avoid each other so slowly, Ranbob drifts closer to the other four and… Learns a few things about them.

Isaac is optimistic and the unofficial leader of the group who starts to welcome him to sit with them during meals. Benjamin is cautious only because he’s cautious about everything and given the chance, will start acting like a dad without realizing it. Cletus is blunt because he values the truth, cares more than he lets on, and loves a good joke. Charles comes out of his shell slowly but has a surprisingly sharp tongue and even sharper senses, always the first to pick up on when someone is in a bad place.

Ranbob doesn’t know when it happened but at some point, he officially becomes a part of their little group, welcomed on movie nights, late night shenanigans, and whatever else they might get up to. He begins to feel less self conscious about himself being so different from the four of them, now naturally fitting in and finding that teasing has become a brand new language he has learned (mostly from Cletus).

The City of Mizu once again is filled with life and Ranbob has found that all of their scars are healing over.

Somewhere along the way, he picks up some rogue feelings.

It starts with realizing how hard he’s focusing on Isaac’s face as he rambles about one of his favorite book series as a kid, passion flowing off of him in waves. All the little emotions that pass across his face, the light in his eyes, and the way he has to stop to breathe when he talks too fast. And at the end of it, how he genuinely thanks him for listening with a little touch on the shoulder and Ranbob can’t help but feel… Magnetic towards him.

It’s not like he wasn’t attractive before, Isaac is perfectly good looking, but Ranbob didn’t feel this way previously. Or maybe he just didn’t notice it, because now Ranbob watches him with a distant sigh and only wonders what it would be like to be closer.

Isaac’s soft hands against his skin, pulling him closer. The warmth against his face when they kiss. The brief star-stuck look in Isaac’s eyes before he grins from ear to ear, whispering about how beautiful he looks tonight.

Ranbob chokes at his own thoughts. His whole body burns and it takes him a few minutes too long to cool down.

He has… Feelings of some sort towards him. Strong feelings.

What the hell is he supposed to do with that?

Isaac was bad enough but Ranbob finds he’s not the only one. Because the coming week brings other revelations.

His outing with Benjamin for instance takes a turn.

Ranbob doesn’t burn in water like his ancestors, a feat that either originated from evolution from staying in the Overworld or because he’s part Ender and part something else that grants him some perks. But regardless of this, he’s not entirely immune to water either. Being splashed or drinking it is fine. However being fully submerged in it has… Side effects.

And when the waves get particularly rough, Ranbob goes overboard.

Benjamin pulls him out of the water and rows home hastily upon seeing his altered state. Ranbob, dazed and sluggish from the dip, can’t think of anything else to say other than a rough ‘I’m okay’ to reassure Benjamin that he’s not dying, only disoriented. He can’t tell if it helps or not, he struggles lift his head high enough to see his face, but lying against Benjamin’s chest makes him feel something.

Benjamin is stronger than he thought. He doesn’t have any sort of six pack, nor is he incredibly muscular, but the rescue had been clean. Benjamin had an arm firmly around his torso when he pulled him out and Ranbob had only registered it once he pulled away, suddenly wishing it was back. It made him feel safe. Protected.

Leaning against his chest now, Ranbob can tell that Benjamin is leaner than he was expecting. A subtle strength that he never noticed before, unless it’s new. Benjamin has been doing most of the heavy lifting around the city.

Finally willing himself to tip his head back, he catches a glimpse of Benjamin’s face before he notices him. It’s focused- determined to get them back to their destination and fiercely protective. But when he finally glances down, Benjamin’s face softens. A hand reaches down and brushes his cheek, causing Ranbob’s breath to hitch.

“I know you said you’re okay but I want to make sure. I don’t want you to get sick or anything.” He tells him, and Ranbob feels like he’s burning again, just like before.

He imagines what it would be like if Benjamin held him as tightly as he did. Not aggressive, not possessive, but safe. Secure. Protective. Willing to let go whenever he wanted but firm all the same. Caring- so, so caring.

Benjamin finally pulls away and Ranbob’s face tingles where his touch left. He keeps his head down the rest of the way. His thoughts already begin to spiral, anything else would make him shut down.

A few days later, Ranbob had just washed his hair and was drying it off. The finished result was fluffy but was stuck up everywhere and didn’t seem to want to cooperate with him. He gritted his teeth, attempting to braid it but hadn’t in so long that he had forgotten how to do it on himself.

Cletus had noticed him sitting on his bed, rolling his eyes at the spectacle. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to get my hair under control…” Ranbob mumbled, then after getting a good, long look at his progress, undid the entire thing to restart. “Stop looking at me like that. It’s harder than it looks.”

“I could do way better.” Cletus said.

“So do it then.” Ranbob sniped back.

He meant it as a sarcastic comment. He didn’t think Cletus would take him up on it, and he certainly didn’t realize that Cletus thought he meant doing his hair for him, but faster than Ranbob could process, Cletus marched over, shooed his hands away, and got to work. The bed dipped as Cletus sat down behind him.

Cletus loosened his half baked braid before running his hands through his hair a few times. Feeling his hands on his scalp had been… Surprisingly pleasant. The strokes were hypnotic and when he gave a few scratches for good measure, Ranbob’s mind had gone blissfully blank.

Cletus got to work after a few minutes, rhymically repeating the motions as Ranbob felt his energy dip. A few minutes ago he felt fine but now it was harder to keep his eyes open. Which, Ranbob supposes his odd sleep schedule might contribute to the cause on top of the fact that he’s finally relaxing. A yawn escaped his lips.

Ranbob isn’t sure when Cletus finally tied off the braid (which was, admittedly, much better than his own attempt). He isn’t sure when he began to sway either but hands caught his shoulders and guided him down. It took him longer than he was willing to admit to realize that he was now laying in Cletus’ lap.

He pried his eyes open to meet Cletus’ gaze.

The look on his face was almost indescribable but it looked tender. Cletus was being uncharacteristically cautious with him, hands resting on his shoulders and scanning his face with a baited breath. And something in Ranbob began to burn.

Ranbob shot up and excused himself, faking that he needed to do laundry despite the fact that he did it two days ago. He didn’t miss the bewildered look on Cletus’ face as he made his speedy retreat. All that he could hear as he walked away were his own footsteps and how loud his thoughts were.

Cletus is playing with his hair again, scratching his scalp in a way that soothes him. A teasing smile on his lips chasing an equally friendly taunt of, “You melted right into my hands. You like me or something?” That Ranbob would sputter to. Cletus would only laugh before he kissed him and said, “Shut up, I like you too.”

The fantasies only got worse.

Charles was reading a book outside late at night. Ranbob joined him to look at the stars initially but now, Charles drew his attention. He wore a ruffled, white, button-up shirt that was half undone due to how hot it had been that day. A cool ocean breeze swept across them and briefly messed with his hair. Charles tucked it back behind his ear without looking up from his book, entranced by it.

But the cherry on top of it all was the moonlight that hit his face. It illuminated him and made him look like he was some sort of god or a muse: beautiful, untouchable, and ignited a spark inside of him in a way he couldn’t explain.

Ranbob pried his eyes away, reminding himself that it was rude to stare. He couldn’t tell if Charles had caught him but didn’t want to embarrass him or if he was too deep into his book to notice. It didn’t matter in the end, because Ranbob couldn’t stop thinking.

Charles looks at him like he’s all he wants to see all day. He holds him like he’s something precious and traces his finger on his skin, drawing imaginary flowers over his shoulders and on his neck. “Tables have turned.” Charles hums (and Ranbob feels his ears turn a bright shade of red). “You seem to like my attention. The feeling is mutual.”

Charles only looks up when Ranbob leaves a little too quickly, saying goodbye and looking like he wants to ask if he’s okay but Ranbob is out of there as quickly as he can.

Of course he had to fall in love with all four of them.

Of course it had to be complicated.

(Why is it always complicated?)

—

These fantasies don’t stop. He can suppress them all he wants but it never stops them, only halts the process. It’s starting to haunt him.

A recurring theme seems to come with them. It’s easy enough to spot once he reviews.

All of them are physically intimate. Not sexually- Ranbob has never had an interest for that- but romantic nonetheless. Or at least, the way that he thinks of them is romantic.

Finding the source isn’t hard either once he digs for it. He was alone for years under Dream’s control, this is the first he’s getting company after all that time. He was scared to be alone but it was more than that- he wants company. He wants affection. He wants… Touch. Warm, affectionate touch.

Years of isolation made him touch-starved. Maybe he should’ve seen that coming but this is all still new to Ranbob. It’s only been a few months and until now, he didn’t even realize how much it burned when others hugged him or put a hand on his shoulder. That the feeling he felt afterwards was a craving for it to return.

With this information, it was easy to dismiss these new feelings as nothing but a result of his touch-starvation. It was plausible after all, he simply wanted to be intimate with his friends and mistook that desire for romantic attraction. Wouldn’t be the first time it happened to him, but there was a hole in that theory. It didn’t feel like a need for physical intimacy, it felt like a desire for a relationship. A romantic relationship.

And that was a tougher pill to swallow. However, with how often it popped into his head, it was one he had to gulp down often.

The next few days seemed to test him.

Benjamin was showing him how to bake a family recipe and one of the steps required whisking an egg. Ranbob admitted he didn’t know how to do that and instead of doing it himself to show him how, Benjamin stood behind him and guided his hand. Ranbob choked up when Benjamin asked him if he understood the instructions and just nodded.

Charles sang softly as they sat just outside the city and fished. The lyrics were that of a glaringly obvious love song and Charles substituted the eye color in the original lyrics for yellow, then purple. Ranbob convinced himself it was just a coincidence, even if he finished the song looking into his eyes.

Isaac went into town looking for a specific kind of tool they accidentally broke and came back with gifts for all of them. Ranbob was given a silver necklace with a mini trident as a charm. Isaac helped him put it on, then as he drew away, beamed at the result, telling Ranbob that it suited him. That look always returned anytime Ranbob wore it from then on and thus, Ranbob rarely took it off.

Cletus fell asleep against his shoulder during movie night. He looked at peace, one hand loosely gripping onto his shirt and breathing in deeply. Later when it looked like he was going to fall, Ranbob gently shook him awake, only to have him repositioned to having his head in his lap before he returned to the same deep sleep. Ranbob had promptly short circuited.

The fact that he definitely felt romantic feelings towards all of them was no longer something he could deny. Ranbob has had a few romantic pursuits in his youth, some at the same time. But the thing was…

He didn’t just want to date one of them. He wanted to date all of them. At the same time.

That was new.

At first, Ranbob assumed he was just being needy. That he wanted all four of them to himself because there was something wrong with him and he needed people. That it was just his touch-starvation talking.

Then one day while Benjamin and Cletus were bickering over nothing and traded teasing remarks, there was a brief pause once they had stopped before Cletus leaned in and Benjamin met him halfway.

The kiss was brief, with both parties looking bewildered that it had happened at all but not uncomfortable. If anything, it looked like they were thinking about doing it again but Benjamin said he needed to finish doing the dishes and they parted, with Cletus still standing there like he didn’t know what to do now.

There was no jealousy- or at least, not the toxic kind he was used to. Merely a twinge of ‘I want a kiss’ but otherwise… It was positive. Ranbob wasn’t bothered by it, if anything, he was happy for them. Happy that they were happy.

Which… Gave him something to think about.

—

The kissing continues- spreads even.

Benjamin and Cletus must’ve talked at some point because now Ranbob catches them sharing more. Small, fleeting kisses meant for testing the water. It’s almost casual but the look in their eyes makes it anything but.

Ranbob isn’t the only one to catch them either. Isaac does as well and after a flustered conversation when he asks questions, an explanation that they’re still figuring out what they want, and a brief mention that their relationship is currently open, Isaac asks, “Could I get a kiss?”

The question could’ve been read as serious or a joke, Ranbob thinks that Isaac left it that way on purpose to avoid any real rejection. But after a meaningful look and nod of approval the pair share, both lean in at the same time and plant a kiss on his cheek.

Isaac’s mouth drops, no words come out. Once again, Ranbob is left with the same feeling as before. A hint of ‘I want that’ and joy for them. But he doesn’t speak up. He doesn’t know what he’d say and this is their moment, not his.

The next day, when Benjamin brings Charles his tea as he takes a break from managing the machines that keep the city running, they share a quick peck on the lips. Casual enough to tell Ranbob that they’ve done this before and talked about it but quick enough to tell him this development happened recently.

Charles catches his gaze lingering for a bit too long but doesn’t say anything. Merely curious, as if there are gears turning in his head.

Ranbob is thankful he doesn’t ask.

Late at night of the very same day, Ranbob sits in the kitchen with half a plate of uneaten homemade fries sitting in front of him. The other four are all curled up in bed. Separate beds he thinks, but Ranbob wonders what it would be like to sleep in a big bed together. What it would be like to be with them The image plays vividly in his head, all snuggling closer to each other. Snuggling closer to him. He’s not any different than the rest of them, just another part of the group. He just… Belongs. Is meant to be there. Fits in.

...Fuck.

“Ranbob?” A drowsy voice calls out to him. His heart nearly leaps out of his throat and he snaps to attention.

Benjamin waddles into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes with one hand. He’s wearing his usual pajamas, comfortable pants and a simple white shirt. There’s a pause before he heads over to the sink and fills up a glass.

“You’re up late…” He mumbles, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Almost two. Usually you’re out before midnight.”

“I was feeling peckish.” Ranbob says, which isn’t a lie. “Made more than I needed. Want some?”

Benjamin hums and swipes a fry once he’s close enough. “Just put the rest in the fridge and reheat it later.” A pause. “You should get some sleep when you can. It’s late, you always feel terrible the next day when you stay up.”

He’s right on the money, Ranbob always does. But unrest and uncertainty stir within him so he doubts he’ll be able to if he tries. Nonetheless, a quick smile in Benjamin’s direction is sent to reassure him.

“I’ll try.” He says. Not a promise or a certainty, but acknowledgement nonetheless. Benjamin dips his head in response.

“At least get a few hours in if you can.” He gulps down the rest of his water and places the cup in the sink. “I’m heading back to bed. Goodnight, Ranbob.”

As Benjamin passes by, he briefly pauses and plants a quick kiss on his lips before heading to the door. Ranbob’s head shuts down and halfway to his destination, Benjamin freezes in place like he only now realizes what he’s done. A moment later, Benjamin whips around, his face beet red.

“I am so sorry!” Benjamin rushes, running a stressed hand through his hair. “I didn’t- I forgot to even ask- sorry!”

Ranbob sputters for an answer. “You- you’re okay. I, uh.” He swallows, trying to think of what to say.

“It’s just,” Benjamin goes on, “I think you’ve probably caught on but me and Cletus and Benjamin and Charles- we’ve been trying something out and I’ve just gotten so used to walking up to everyone and kissing them so we can figure out where we stand and-” he sucks in a deep breath when he runs out, “I’m sorry.” Benjamin repeats. “I didn’t ask and… I- I should go. Sorry.”

Benjamin turns tail and almost makes it out the door. The only reason he doesn’t is because Ranbob has enough courage in him to say, “Wait!” and Benjamin stops at the threshold.

His eyes are on him and Ranbob rushes to say something. Anything so they can turn an accident into a talk he needs to have. “I didn’t… I didn’t mind it.” Is the best that comes out.

“But- we never talked about this and I never even got to ask if it’s okay-”

“It is.” Ranbob says hurriedly. “I understand the panic but I… I’ve been meaning to-… What I’ve been trying to-... You and the others, you’re uh…”

His throat goes dry. His feelings jumble together and Ranbob doesn’t have the slightest idea of how to go about this. He’s never asked out one person, how is he supposed to ask out four?

Benjamin watched him, frowning slightly but more like he’s solving a puzzle rather than being actually upset.

“Ranbob?” Benjamin says. “Charles, Isaac, Cletus, and I were all planning on talking about our relationship together tomorrow morning. And- you were mentioned. A few times actually. Charles suggested we ask you about it because he was getting a few signals that… Are you romantically interested in any of us?”

It’s a fairytale. It’s a dream. Ranbob blinks a few times fast but it never changes.

“I… I am.” It’s a gamble with his heart on the line but he sucks in a breath and goes all in. “All four of you. Not that any of you have to return my affections-!”

“I think you’ll be surprised.” Benjamin’s smile is kind. It makes his heart squeeze. “Don’t sell yourself short, Ranbob. You are… Beautiful, you know that?”

It’s real. Impossibly, breathtakingly real.

Benjamin clears his throat, his face turning a faint shade of pink. “I really need to get to bed- you do too. Promise me you’ll honestly try to sleep?”

Ranbob nods when his voice doesn’t work. Benjamin bids him goodnight before disappearing from the doorway.

The morning can’t come fast enough.

—

Knowing that Benjamin would be upset if he didn’t actually try, Ranbob does attempt to sleep. However his attempts are as futile as he predicted, his head is simply too loud to let him, especially now that he’s thinking about this ‘Talk’ Benjamin mentioned.

Because when the sun has been swallowed by the darkness and those closest to him are fast asleep, all of his deepest, darkest thoughts and insecurities come for him. They strike where he’s most vulnerable and hit sensitive nerves he didn’t even know about.

Because Ranbob starts thinking about the morning and his thoughts begin to whisper to him, what if it goes wrong?

Maybe he’s intruding on a blossoming relationship where he doesn’t belong. Charles, Cletus, Isaac, Benjamin- they’ve known each other for years. They’ve bonded, gotten used to each other, gotten comfortable with each other, and Ranbob had only known them for a few months. When he first met them, he tried to kill them, and possessed or not, how could they trust him after that? How could they love him like that after that?

He’s pushing it. Making things weird. He should’ve just been happy that they were including him into their group as a friend in the first place. Now they’re gonna pull back because he’s going to ruin it. He’s been ruining it. Why did he think he could really fit in?

What if they leave? What happens when he’s alone, having let down everyone he’s ever loved?

What if Dream comes back?

His throat makes a strange sound. It’s almost an enderman screech but breathier. It feels like his throat is tearing up from the inside when he makes it.

Ranbob covers his mouth with one hand and feels his throat with the other.

Do you really think they could love you?

Dim glowing, gold tears flow down his face. Ranbob quickly wipes them away and pulls himself together, even if he’s only being held together by fraying strings.

If they don’t love you, that’s that. Ranbob tells himself. You can’t force them to.

It’ll hurt when they turn them down but Ranbob thinks they’ll at least let him down easy. Even Cletus would, he’s blunt but not cruel. They won’t be cruel to him.

Even if you deserve it.

Ranbob has never been able to get rid of that part of himself. He’s starting to think it’ll be here forever.

—

Morning comes and predictably Ranbob hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep. He settles for next best thing and makes himself look decently presentable.

Ranbob is lucky that he’s different from his ancestors biologically. He admits that being able to teleport without feeling like his organs got ripped out and rearranged would be useful most days but his own tears being acidic is not a pay off he would take. His are merely bioluminescent, nothing more.

The breakdown he had a few hours ago is easy enough to clean up because of this.

His wrinkled, damp clothes are swapped out for a simple outfit: a black, button up shirt and a white jacket, a reverse of his usual color scheme. His pants are black and while leaning more towards formal wear, are comfortable nonetheless.

Ranbob would attempt to re-braid his hair but his hands tremble when he tries. A low ponytail proves to be less effort. Ranbob has to ball up his fists as he stares at himself in the mirror, too easily picking out each and every single one of his flaws. He can’t tell if it’s obvious he’s covering up a rough night or if it’s because he can’t lie to himself. He hopes it’s the latter, if today goes anything like he thinks it will, it will save him the embarrassment and pity.

He doesn’t need either. Ranbob can handle a little rejection. He spent years in isolation, rejection is preferable to going through that again, especially now that there’s no company in his own head.

They’re going to leave you.

Ranbob waves the thought away, even if it does make his fists tighten. No matter what happens, he’ll continue living. Maybe not happily but… He will survive. He always has.

A sigh escapes him and his body droops. There is a brief, childish thought that perhaps, if he stays in his bathroom forever, there is no outside world to face. It only serves in getting him out the door quicker, determined to prove that he can handle whatever is thrown at him, heartbreak and all.

His heart is abruptly grabbed in his chest when he sees Charles in his room, lingering by the doorway.

Of course it was Charles of all people, the one who sees right through every facade he’s ever put up. Charles, the one who Benjamin mentioned clueing in about his affections. The only one who could look at him and know that he hasn’t slept today. Look at him and know that he’s paralyzed just seeing him here.

Ranbob can feel his body doing a complete system reset just staring at him. Charles sizes him up, hands behind his back.

“I know it’s early, but we were all anxious to start talking. Even Cletus is up before noon.” His hand extends, an invitation in its own right. “You ready to join us?”

No. His limbs lock on him. I’m not. But I can’t delay it any longer either.

Ranbob shoots him a small nod, willing his legs to move. “Of course.” He says, but he’s a liar and they both know it.

Charles’ hand grasps Ranbob’s own, fingers interlocking. His whole body stutters and Ranbob takes back what he said before because it’s cruel what it does to him.

“Breathe,” Charles murmurs, and only after he says it does Ranbob realize that he can’t.

He shudders a breath- because Charles has already read him cover to cover like a goddamn book so it’s not like faking it is doing anything but using the fumes he’s currently running on. He honestly can’t determine if Charles giving his hand a squeeze is encouraging or if it wrecks him further but eventually, he’s put together enough to feel like he can make it. Even if ‘Put together’ roughly translates to ‘Made of toothpicks and glue at the moment’.

Ranbob doesn’t realize he’s still holding onto Charles until they’re turning the corner into the main living room and he quickly draws his hand away to fold his hands behind his back. Another breath. Another moment to mentally convince himself that he can handle this. He’s dealt with worse, he can deal with this.

(Still, with everyone else looking at him when he and Charles enter, he feels weak in the knees.)

—

There are several points in their conversation where Ranbob feels his heart do funny things in his chest. He tries to pinpoint the worst of it in order to find the cause for why he physically cannot speak despite having so, so much to say.

It might’ve been the moment where Charles outs his previous sleepless night to Benjamin and the other three have to hold him back from picking up Ranbob bridal style and carrying him back to bed. He still ends up being bundled up in a blanket because it’s the only thing that gets him off his back.

It might’ve been the moment where when Benjamin confesses that he accidentally gave Ranbob a peck on the lips forgetting that he wasn’t one of his pending boyfriends and Isaac and Cletus both squawk in protest not because they didn’t want Benjamin kissing Ranbob in the first place but because now Isaac wants to and apparently Cletus had called dibs (if Ranbob was okay with it).

It might’ve been the moment Charles called him beautiful because yes, he’s been called that before but not with the way Charles is looking at him.

It might’ve been the moment where Isaac says that they’ve all been crushing on him for a while now but weren’t sure where he stood on the matter.

It might’ve been the moment Ranbob realized he fit into the group like a glove as Cletus began to trade sarcastic remarks with Charles teasing him about his all too obvious affections with all of them.

The kicker, he thinks, is probably when they come to an agreement of what they all want. A polyamerous relationship with all five of them dating each other, him included.

(The people of End don’t have such a word or label for relationships. As long as you are honest and good to your partner or partners, there is no problem with dating multiple people at once.)

Either way, Ranbob realizes by the end of it that there is no rug about to be pulled out from under him and that they are all genuine in their affections. That they aren’t doing this out of pity or obligation but because they want to be with him and that all of his fears and anxieties he agonized over the night before were... Wrong. Which is perhaps the most baffling idea of all.

Ranbob sits on the couch, staring at the coffee table with wide eyes trying to comprehend that this is real and happening. The cushion dips and Benjamin appears at his side, looking as sheepish as he did last night.

“I’m glad it ended up here but I’m still sorry about last night. Could I make it up to you somehow? You… Want to try again? For real this time?”

Before Ranbob can even begin to answer that, there’s a hand smushing Benjamin’s face and shoving him away. “You already got to kiss him, Benji!” Cletus glares. “And I called dibs.”

“It’s his choice, Cletus.” Charles reminds him.

“Well obviously but if he’s willing, I called dibs.”

“You’re really infatuated with Ranbob, aren’t you?” Isaac snickers.

“Like you aren’t. I just want y’all to respect dibs.”

“Didn’t you call dibs in the first place immediately after Charles suggested Ranbob might feel the same about us the way we were feeling about him?”

“That he did.” Charles confirms.

“What are you implying?”

“That you’re just a teddy bear.” Benjamin gives him a poke. “And also that you’re in love with us, especially Ranbob.”

“So what if I am?”

No, Ranbob was wrong. This is the moment that promptly gets him to shut down. In the best way possible.

—

For the next two days, Ranbob finds he’s constantly going in and out of shock. Not a bad kind of shock but still shock nonetheless.

They meant every word they said. They want to be in a relationship not just with each other but with Ranbob too.

And this new development in their relationship changes quite a bit but at the same time, things stay remarkably the same.

Movie nights are met with everyone cuddling close to each other, Ranbob finding himself squished in the middle, face burning up at how good it feels. Charles lays on his shoulder to his right, Isaac is on his left and pressed against him, Benjamin on the far end, and Cletus lays across all of their laps like an oversized cat.

Kisses are exchanged casually but in an intimate moment with Isaac, lasts more than a few minutes, marking itself as the longest kiss he’s ever had, and also the best kiss he’s ever had.

They do everything they used to before but now anytime someone openly flirts with him, Ranbob is reminded of what has changed and his heart swells up in his chest.

He doesn’t know what he would do without them. He can’t believe they’re with him at all.

And there are times that Ranbob forgets that he’s not the only one who gets flustered.

Charles and Ranbob lay across the couch, Charles fit snugly in Ranbob’s lap with his arms around him. Charles softly reads out loud what he’s reading and Ranboo’s listens while following along, head resting on his.

It’s not lost on Ranbob that it’s a love story involving multiple partners all caring for each other. Nor the fact that one of said partners is an enderman. He can’t tell if Charles chose it specifically for him or if it was simply the book he was reading at the time.

“Do you see me in this,” Ranbob pauses to find the name again, still struggling with remembering all of the main character’s names, “Tyll guy?”

Charles pauses to think, then shakes his head. “Only in looks. He acts a lot more like Benji than you.”

Charles slips his bookmark in and flips to the cover. All the main characters are beautifully illustrated on the front and Charles points to Tyll’s eyes, both a stunning shade of purple.

“See? Kinda like yours. Not exactly though, they’re nothing compared to the real thing.”

Ranbob clears his throat before he can choke and points to another character on the cover, one with light brown hair and soft brown eyes.

“Well, I think this one looks like you. Not quite as beautiful as you are but pretty nonetheless.”

To Ranbob, it’s the obvious truth. He doesn’t think much of it.

But Charles’ breath stutters and Ranbob blinks, looking down at him. His eyes are wide and his cheeks are tinted pink.

“…You mean that?” Charles asks, quieter than he was expecting.

“Of course.” His lips turn to a frown. “I… Did you not know that?”

Charles falters. “I guess I… I think I’m kinda the weakest link in terms of looks.”

“I don’t understand?”

“Benjamin has an amazing body and hair, Isaac is so expressive that anyone could just watch him for hours and not get bored, Cletus has some of the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen and is the perfect cuddling size, and you’re enchanting to look at.” Charles shrugs his shoulders. “I have very plain features. It isn’t hard to see.”

Ranbob’s shoulders tense, a sudden need washing over him and he maneuvers Charles around so he can look at him face to face. Charles offers no resistance and meets his gaze slowly.

His head moves too fast for him to keep up. He has so much to say at once and yet, is speechless just looking at him. When his silence draws on for a bit too long, Charles looks away and only then does Ranbob finally get them out. One hand reaches out to cup Charles’ cheek and move his head so he’s looking at him again.

“Do you remember the night at the docks? A few weeks- maybe a month ago, I don’t remember. But what I do remember is you and I were sitting just outside the entrance to the city and you were getting some late night reading done because you couldn’t sleep and neither could I. And- and the moon was full and the reason I know that is because I remember how you looked in the moonlight.

“I remember you had your shirt half open and your skin looked like it was glowing. I remember how your hair ruffled in the breeze and I remember how hard it was to take my eyes off you because I couldn’t- I wanted- I just felt like I needed to kiss you so bad that it hurt. Because you looked so beautiful and I could cherish every inch of you and it wouldn’t be enough. It wouldn’t be nearly enough to describe how much I love you.”

Charles’ mouth hangs open at the end of the speech, only closing when he swallows thickly and wipes away tears forming in his eyes. Ranbob keeps silent, fearing he overwhelmed him.

“Fuck.” Charles whispers with a chuckle. “Ranbob, I… I really didn’t think anyone could think about me that way. I thought-… I don’t know.”

“We all said we wanted to date each other, didn’t we?”

“True but… I don’t know.” Charles shrugged his shoulders, head dipping down. “I guess I don’t have the best perception about myself. I don’t feel right sometimes.”

Ranbob hummed. “Maybe you need to figure yourself out? Find out what bothers you about yourself and change it.”

“But- what if I change something about myself and you guys don’t like it?”

“Don’t worry about us. I can speak for all of us when I say that we love you for you, not because we have some sort of idealized version of you in our head. Whatever happens, we’re not leaving, alright?”

Charles nodded shakily. Ranbob hesitated before offering his open arms and Charles plunged right into them, pressing his head against his chest. Ranbob curled around him protectively and closed his eyes.

“We love you.” He mumbled. Charles nodded back, wrapping his arms around his waist.

—

Ranbob wasn’t sure what Charles needed or what he wanted to change but he kept an eye on him for the next week just in case. And to his surprise, there was one noticeable change.

Charles’ wardrobe updated. Simple things at first, a ruffled blouse, cuffed pants, adding more accessories beyond his goggles. One afternoon, Charles wore a skirt. In another, a mesh shirt with a jacket over it. It became increasingly obvious that he was getting comfortable in his own skin and Ranbob, for one, was proud of him. He looked good in everything he wore.

The next week was similar, Charles constantly switching between new outfits in an attempt to find what he found most comfortable. The only notable thing was an odd conversation Ranbob overheard.

He was passing by Charles’ room when he overheard Isaac saying something along the lines of, “They are someone I love. I am so proud of them.” with a heavy emphasis on the pronouns, then he paused before adding, “How did that feel?”

“Good… Really good.” Came Charles’ voice. “But… I like-”

“You can like multiple!” Isaac said, and Ranbob was out of range to hear the rest.

He didn’t really know what to make of it but figured if they wanted to tell him, they would.

Then, another week passed before Isaac approached him while Ranbob was on his own.

“Hey!” Isaac greeted. “Can I talk to you about something?”

Ranbob nodded. “You have my full undivided attention.”

“Great! It’s about Charles. He was kinda nervous because he has a big thing to talk about with all of us tonight and sent me to individually give everyone a heads up.”

Ranbob frowned. “Is he okay?”

“Yep! Just dealing with some new revelations. Charles doesn’t feel like a man, not fully anyhow.”

Ranbob blinks. “Oh?” Then it clicks. “Oh. That… Makes sense in hindsight. Is- is Charles a girl then? Or feels more androgynous?”

“They think they’re nonbinary actually! Maybe a Demiboy. Charles seemed to like the idea when I explained it.”

Nonbinary. Ranbob was sort of familiar with the word. He knew what it meant but had never looked too deep into the definition. Nonetheless, he nodded. “Good for them. Charles wants to be called They and Them then?”

“Yes but also no. His pronouns are He/They now.”

“So… Does the ‘Him’ get replaced with ‘They’ instead?” Ranbob could do that. Might take a little getting used to but he could do that easily.

“Not quite! Charles wants to go by He/Him and They/Them. He likes both! They feel really comfortable with both.”

Everything seemed to come to a stop. “…Both?”

Isaac’s smile dipped for a minute. “Yeah. I know it’s a big change but Charles is going through a lot right now so if you have any questions-”

“That’s an option?” Ranbob blurted out.

Isaac halted. The look on his face could only be described as curious. “Of course. You can go by more than just two too. If it makes you happy, you can have as many as you want.”

And that-…

That... Huh.

That was a lot to take in.

“I didn’t know that was an option.” Ranbob said quietly.

“Well… If you want to talk about it more, feel free to come to me!” Isaac said.

Ranbob swallowed thickly and nodded.

Long buried feelings rose to the surface. Ranbob didn’t know what to do with them.

—

Later that night, everyone was gathered in the living room where Charles explained a little more of what they were feeling.

He didn’t look any of them in the eye until the end, looking at all of them as if he was before a jury and was about to be given their sentence.

Charles was accepted immediately, gathered into their arms until they cried their eyes out and laughed in relief.

“‘Course we accept you!” Benjamin assured them. “No matter what, we love you and we will always love you. And- well, I’m trans anyways so I’ve been down this road before. I get it.”

“I was still so worried you would all see me differently.” Charles sniffed. “Irrational maybe but it was a lot at once.”

Ranbob backpedaled. “Benjamin- you’re transgender too?”

Benjamin gave him a funny look. “I thought you knew? You’ve seen my top surgery scars before. I don’t hide them.”

Ranbob has seen the scarring on his chest before, neat as if created by a surgeon’s steady hand and healed over. Benjamin did say they were from his operation when Ranbob had asked. He just hadn’t put two and two together and realized what kind of operation.

…Maybe he should’ve realized that before.

Cletus rolled his eyes, draping an arm over Benjamin’s shoulder. “Sheesh, next you’re gonna say you didn’t know Isaac and I are trans.”

Ranbob stared. Cletus stared back.

“…Huh, we never talked about gender before, did we?” Cletus said at last, earning a nod. “Our bad, probably should’ve mentioned that earlier. I’m Agender, any pronouns, I really don’t care.”

“Nonbinary, He/Him for me!” Isaac waved. “Does that change anything? Knowing that?”

Ranbob shook his head. “You’re all still you, I just… Know more now. A lot more.”

Ranbob commits all of the details of what they said to heart. He won’t forget now that he knows. They embrace one last time before Isaac suggests they all go cuddle in the double king sized bed and they head off.

Ranbob pushes away distracting thoughts and feelings about the idea of having multiple pronouns. All he wants now is to snuggle up to his partners and have that be the end of it. To assure all of them that he loves them all the same.

It works for the night. Having them all snuggled close to him, fulfilling this need to be intimate in his chest consumes him and Ranbob sleeps peacefully.

In the morning, however, Ranbob’s head is too full for him to get comfortable.

He remembers the old dress at the back of his closet. His chest twists in a way where he can’t tell if it’s bad or good.

—

Ranbob was four years old when he wore a dress for the first time.

It was such a simple thing but Ranbob had loved it with all of his heart. He wore it multiple times a week if he could, finding it so easy to run in and loved how smooth it was against his skin. It was cute, it made him feel good, there was nothing else to it.

Ranbob had just turned five when he overheard one of the merchants ask why a boy was wearing a dress.

Their eyes when they looked at him were puzzled and judging. Ranbob’s heart squeezed, taking the information at storing it away, telling himself he would figure it out what that meant and how to deal with it later.

But suddenly, Ranbob became all too aware of everything around him.

Someone asked him if he would rather wear a suit.

Someone said that dresses weren’t really a boy thing and he should dress more like a boy.

Ranbob stored it all away for later. Said he would figure it out eventually. Said he just needed a little time to process it.

He never told his mother. Never said a word to anybody who said those things to him or about him. He started to avoid wearing the dress, now feeling all eyes on him when he so much as looked at it.

Nobody said a word when he wore the suit. They complimented him even. ‘What a handsome young man!’ They would say. And that was a fine thing to say, Ranbob didn’t mind it. Liked it sometimes even.

Suits were good sometimes. They let him slip under the radar, away from prying eyes that looked at him as if he were an abomination. A crime against nature.

(He was barely five.)

But there were times where his skin itched under the suit. There were times were wearing them felt like an obligation, a way to make everyone else happy but himself. There were several points in his life where Ranbob looked in the mirror and felt like a stranger in his own skin.

Like he was not his own person, having lost himself in the name of making everyone else happy and never drawing attention.

(Maybe that’s why Dream had gotten such a strong grip on him in the first place. He was always so eager to please.)

It took Ranbob years to realize he had lost his own happiness in an effort to please everyone else. It took a few more to even begin breaking this habit, and even then, it often felt like the only thing pushing him through to recovery was the support of his boyfriends being there every step of the way.

Ranbob was thirteen when he tried on his mother’s dress for the first time since he was five. The way it felt brought out emotions he couldn’t deal with so he shoved it in the very back of his closet and pretended it never happened.

Ranbob is twenty three when he tries on a dress again for the first time in a decade.

It’s from Cletus’ closet and it doesn’t fit him right but Cletus was the only one who wouldn’t ask questions he wasn’t ready for. Cletus didn’t even look up from the movie xe had been watching when Ranbob asked for it. She gave a thumbs up and that was it.

It just barely reaches his thighs when he slips it on, earning a laugh out of Ranbob at their height difference. The downside of raiding Cletus’ closet is that they are the furthest from Ranbob’s height but other than that, it feels… Nice.

It’s a short, ruffled dress with deep teal as the main color and white as the accent. There’s a ribbon that wraps around the waist and is tied into a neat little bow on the back that reminds Ranbob of his own dress he had when he was younger.

Ranbob’s vision gets blurry before he even looks in the mirror.

It doesn’t fit him. The bright colors clash with his pallet. It’s imperfect.

But Ranbob can’t stop the tears from flowing.

It’s been a decade since he wore a dress. It’s been longer since he allowed himself to enjoy it.

Ranbob was five when he told himself he would deal with all the difficult feelings later.

He’s twenty three when he actually does.

—

It’s midnight when Ranbob tracks Isaac down to the kitchen getting a midnight snack and says, “How does one figure out if they like a set of pronouns or not?”

Isaac startles in surprise at the sudden question but doesn’t miss a beat when answering. “It’s easiest to test out with a friend referring to you by using them! Why? Anything you want to try?” His head tilts curiously. “Do you think you might be trans?”

“Yes. No. Maybe- I don’t know.” Ranbob spits out all at once. It’s nerve wracking just asking but he’s gotten this far. He’s not turning back now. “Just- can you do it for me?”

“Of course! What pronouns?”

“Uh. They. And maybe She. I haven’t figured this out yet, sorry.”

“Doing this is the whole point of figuring things out! It’s no big deal!” Isaac pauses for a minute, then says, “This is my partner, Ranbob. They are very dear to my heart and I don’t know what I would do without them. She’s beautiful too and I would really like to kiss her right now.”

Ranbob’s heart is in his- their?- throat. After promptly thanking Isaac for his help, Ranbob makes a quick escape to try and think about what just happened.

Ranbob liked them a little too much for comfort. But then again, getting out of the bubble he- she?- put himself in is the whole point of figuring out his identity.

Mentally, Ranbob tries the pronouns out when referring to himself.

…He’s still trying to get the hang of it.

—

Charles was able to figure themselves out quickly. They liked both ‘He’ and ‘They’ pronouns and once Isaac suggested the possibility of them being a ‘Demiboy’, Charles seemed to click with the idea. Further research only seemed to strengthen the idea. It was a pretty straightforward process for them.

Ranbob wishes he could say the same.

Even with the clear euphoria that comes with embracing femininity and even the idea of being a mix of multiple or the absence of gender at all, Ranbob… Struggles.

All of them know about Ranbob wanting to test the waters now. They’ve all been exceptional at switching between pronouns, picking it up without skipping a beat.

They’re better at it than he is.

Ranbob knows he likes ‘They’ and ‘She’ as much as he likes ‘He’ but breaking out of the habit is hard. Not because Ranbob doesn’t remember but rather, because Ranbob hasn’t really gotten around to the idea of accepting himself as anything other than the man he’s been referred to his entire life. Because even if the four most important people in his life are trans themselves, Ranbob still feels like he’s being judged and is supposed to be something else than what he wants. Still feels thousands of eyes on him asking him questions that get him choked up when he tries to answer.

They’re all supportive of him in his journey. They tell him to take his time, that these things won’t always come easily.

But it did for Charles. Charles figured it out in under a month.

It’s been four since Ranbob realized something was amiss and he feels no closer than he did. If anything, he feels worse.

There’s a part of him that tells him he’s just doing this to fit in. That he’s not actually trans, he just saw his boyfriends and wanted to be like them. That all of this is just fake- he’s a fraud and as soon as they realize it, they’ll leave him and never return.

It’s been four months and Ranbob just wants to pick a label and be done with it but none of them feel right. Which is weird because it’s just a label and Ranbob shouldn’t be picky but they don’t- they’re not him.

He can’t describe it. He just knows and has to move on in hopes that something will strike a chord with him. That there will be that one word that sounds like how he’s feeling, something that will finally describe what’s been locked up in his chest for all these years.

But there’s nothing. The closest thing that feels right is just the umbrella term of ‘Nonbinary’ but Ranbob picks it up more out of obligation to have something rather than nothing. Because he needs something- there has to be something.

Doesn’t there?

—

The term ‘Genderfluid’ is described as a gender identity in which someone whose gender may change over time.

They could be feeling more like a girl one day, but a boy the next. They could even feel in between several genders, or completely devoid of any at all.

And by all means, it should fit Ranbob. It should fit like a goddamn glove because after six months, he should have an answer. All of these issues should be resolved and Ranbob should know what he is, and what he is sounds just like this.

It should be a relief. He should be happy. It should fit like a glove and Ranbob should just accept it.

But his gut twists.

(The glove is too big.)

—

Ranbob takes Benjamin by the hand and leads him to a quiet part of the city in hopes for privacy. It’s dark out but not quite midnight. The lights are dim and yet, Ranbob trembles like he’s in the spotlight, getting attention he doesn’t want.

(All eyes are on him, asking him, what are you, Ranbob?)

“Are you okay?” Is the first thing Benjamin asks, hesitant to reach out but present nonetheless.

“I- I’ve been doing a bit more research into more gender identities,” Ranbob starts off carefully, “And I came across one. ‘Genderfluid’. And- and when I was reading it, there were parts that made sense. Parts that sounded right to me- like how I feel.”

A warm smile spreads across Benjamin’s face. “That’s great!”

“There’s more.” Ranbob quickly says before he starts to celebrate too early. “I… It should work, right? I found something that kinda sounds like me so I should just stop while I’m ahead because that’s it. I’m not gonna find anything better and I- I should be happy with it.”

Benjamin’s smile dips.

“But I’m not. I’m not happy. Why am I not happy?”

“You don’t have to give up hope, Ranbob. If you want, I can help you try and find something else that might fit.”

“But- what if there’s nothing? What if no matter what I find and no matter how close it sounds to what I’m feeling, I just- I just don’t like it and there’s nothing for me?”

Benjamin’s mouth opens and closes. There’s a look in his eye that Ranbob doesn’t recognize. It peers into his very soul as if he knows answers that Ranbob doesn’t.

“It doesn’t make sense.” Ranbob says, because it doesn’t and he hates that it doesn’t. It makes him feel- wrong.

Like he’s not anything at all. Like he’s just broken.

“Does it need to make sense?” Benjamin asks gently. He’s being careful. Ranbob doesn’t know why and he doesn’t know if he hates that or not.

“Doesn’t it? This- this ‘Genderfluid’ thing- I check all the boxes. It should fit like a glove and yet-”

Ranbob covers his mouth and screeches into his hand. Why is this stressing me out? He doesn’t know and he doesn’t like not knowing. He’s just so- raw. On display. One wrong move and he’s going to fall apart. Why am I falling apart?

He doesn’t know. It hurts.

“And yet..?” Benjamin prompts.

“And yet… I don’t feel comfortable being called that.”

“Well, that’s okay.”

“Is it?”

Benjamin smiles softly. “It is.”

Ranbob swallows thickly. His eyes sting like he’s going to cry but he shoves it back down before it can happen. He takes a breath- it shakes and he’s certain that if his legs weren’t glued to the floor, they would give out.

Benjamin waits patiently. He always does. That’s why Ranbob came to him in the first place. Charles would’ve too but Benjamin was more likely to give advice- put a name to this problem of his because Ranbob sure as hell doesn’t know what it is.

“It doesn’t feel okay.” Ranbob manages to choke out.

“Do you want a label-”

“Yes, I need-”

“Or do you feel obligated to have one?”

His jaw snaps close so quickly that his skin tingles from the force. A flicker of something resides in his chest and begins to burn.

“I don’t understand.” Ranbob croaks.

“You don’t need a label, Ranbob. You can just… Be.”

“But- how else do I find a way to describe it? What am I supposed to tell the others if they ask? What-”

His hands curl into fists, trembling with effort. He’s not going to cry- why does he want to cry?

“What am I?”

Benjamin pulls him into a hug so quickly that Ranbob doesn’t realize it until warm arms are around him and strong hands rub his back. He sputters, trying to think of what to say until he leans down and presses his face into Benjamin’s shoulder.

“I think the word you’re looking for is Unlabeled.” Benjamin whispers into his ear. “And no matter what, we love you. That won’t change, you don’t have to worry about that.”

What would he be worried about? His entire identity changing and all of his lovers abandoned him because they’re not attracted to whatever he is and losing everything just because of some stupid, weird feelings he doesn’t even want?

...Oh.

“Oh.” Ranbob chokes, and finally comes undone. Glistening tears come pouring out and soak into Benjamin’s jacket, but his muttered apologies are hushed. His legs dip, no longer able to support his body, but Benjamin safely guides him to the ground so he doesn’t fall, never once letting go.

Ranbob clings to him, all grace lost and breaking down into a mess of long, skinny limbs and sobs that escape him despite his best efforts to hold them in. Benjamin rubs rhythmic circles into his back, murmuring quiet assurances in his ear. Any and all attempts at an apology for his behavior are swiftly shut down as Benjamin tells him to let it all out and after a few tries, he does.

Years of built up emotions are released, poured out like a never ending pitcher of tears, and once he has none left, he still gasps for breaths he can’t quite get ahold of and shakes like a newborn fawn.

He can’t see his face but he knows how the rest of him feels. If Ranbob felt raw before, now he feels like meat on a hook, on display in the freshest of forms and flayed down to his core. He no longer clings like he did, but he doesn’t move too far away from Benjamin when they break apart at last.

Ranbob rubs his eyes until they burn and manages to stutter out, “I look dreadful, don’t I?”

To which, Benjamin leans forward and plants a kiss on his cheek that nearly turns him to paste. “You do.” Benjamin says, one hand reaching up to gently rest on the back of his neck as he presses their foreheads together. “I want to kiss you until you feel better. I need you to know that no matter what… You are everything to me. To us.”

Ranbob makes a noise- he doesn’t know if it’s a relieved laugh or a sob at the softness to his words. Benjamin responds by planting a kiss on his forehead and he melts further.

“I love you.” He says.

Ranbob attempts to say the same but it comes out garbled. Benjamin understands him all the same.

—

It’s been exactly one month since Ranbob discovered that ‘Unlabeled’ fits better than anything else.

They’ve been doing a lot better. Not perfect, but better.

Ranbob has gained enough confidence to start wearing whatever makes her happy rather than letting internalized gender norms dictate how she looks. A trip to the markets to get them plenty of clothes in his size finally gave them a wardrobe that they’re happy with and has largely helped in getting rid of any doubting thoughts.

They’re not gone. Maybe one day, Ranbob will get rid of all the thoughts that make her feel like he’s not any of this and how much easier it would be to just go back to how it used to be, or maybe they’ll always stick around as a result of years of inner turmoil. But Ranbob deals with them and when they can’t, he has four lovely boyfriends who can give her the boost they need.

Ranbob sits at the table and slowly gazes at her boyfriends sitting around her.

Cletus and Charles are teasing each other, with Cletus sticking her tongue out at them and Charles rolling his eyes with an easy smile. Benjamin has a mouth full of food and is nodding along to Isaac enthusiastically telling a story.

Their warm chatter in the air fills not only the city with life, but Ranbob as well. He could sit here for hours and feel nothing but peace and satisfaction that this is where their life ended up.

They’ll be okay.