Archive of Our Own ^beta

Ironically, it had been Tommy's idea to start. 

"Come oooon," he whined over VC one late night. "Matching tattoos vlog anybody?" He and Ranboo had just finished playing their fourth game of bedwars and were hopping around the Hypixel lobby aimlessly. Tubbo, in his ever-lasting disdain for bedwars, had opted out and was instead lounging on the sofa behind Ranboo and scrolling through his phone.  

Tubbo scoffed. "We're underage, dude. No chance."

Tommy squawked out something, rambling on indignantly, but Tubbo tuned him out. On the list of crazy ideas Tommy had proposed for vlogs – including the one where he'd actually proposed – this was nowhere near the top. Tubbo was sure he’d tire of it quickly. 

But then Ranboo said something that would flip Tubbo's reality for the coming week. 

It started with a thoughtful hum, then, "Actually, we could always do stick and poke."

Tubbo's finger paused in his scrolling. 

"Ew, Ranboo, I'm not sticking or poking anything near you. Tubbo'd have my head for disturbing your ... your purity , or whatever," Tommy said. 

"I - What? No, that's not - What?" Ranboo spluttered, laughter stuttering out between syllables. "No, no, stick and poke tattoos. It's tattooing but with just a regular needle instead of the electric ones. They're pretty easy, so you can do them at home. I had a friend who used to do them at parties sometimes back in high school, it was pretty cool."

"Oh, that's not nearly as fun," Tommy replied. "The buzzing needles are the scary bit, innit?" 

Tubbo frowned at the back of Ranboo's head as he said something in response to Tommy. The conversation continued on from there, but Tubbo wasn't listening. Instead, his mind was buzzing with a newfound revelation. 

See, Tubbo had a secret. Tucked away inside his laptop, deep, deep behind uninteresting old school documents and untouched thumbnails, there was a folder full of nothing but photo after photo of tattoos. References and inspiration, colored and black ink, intricate, simple, traditional, watercolor – some were small, standalone sketches, while others were full pieces, layered over each other as a whole sleeve or back tattoo until there was more ink than skin. It wasn't anything weird – Tubbo had an appreciation for art, was all, and tattoos were just a very specific and very fascinating art form. 

His parents, however, were very against it. They weren't traditional in many senses – hell, they'd let their 15 year old son livestream to strangers on the internet – but tattoos, piercings, fashion, that was where they drew the line. There was no chance Tubbo was getting parental consent to get a tattoo.

So, his plan was to turn 18 and start small. He didn't want that many or even want them to be particularly visible, but he was lucky enough to work in one of the industries that didn't really care if he had tattoos, so why not take advantage of it? 

But now, Ranboo had just presented a new possibility in front of him. And, not only that, but had revealed himself to be more pro-tattoo than Tubbo would've pegged the ex-Christian California white boy to be. 

Because maybe, just maybe, Tubbo had had an idea for a while, one that he hadn't let linger in the forefront of his brain for more than a brief second of time. But now, eyes boring holes in the back of Ranboo’s head as he bobbed up and down along with his Minecraft character, it wouldn’t leave him alone. 

xxx

Tubbo wasn’t much of a romantic. This was a self-confessed fact, and one that anyone who knew him well enough could attest to. Tommy had once called him thicker than a sack of bricks when it came to feelings, and Ranboo, his actual, real-life boyfriend, had sat him down early on in their relationship and asked him with complete seriousness whether Tubbo thought he might be on the aromantic spectrum. 

(The answer had been mostly no, but maybe sometimes? The jury was still out on that one, but Tubbo didn’t see much of a point in labeling anything so long as he knew what he felt, and what he felt was a whole lot of love and affection for one specific boy, even if he didn’t always show it very well.)

Yet, despite all this, despite everyone shouting to the rooftops that Tubbo didn’t have a romantic bone in his body, Tubbo did have one specific fantasy that, if spoken out loud, would make him seem like a huge sap. 

Tubbo really, really wanted to get matching tattoos with Ranboo. 

In his mind, they would get the tattoos on opposite hands, something small and unobtrusive but meaningful to the both of them. He imagined their fingers linking together on a late night walk, arms swinging listlessly with the breeze and ink pressed together just as tightly, like they’d left their mark on each other forevermore. 

It was a fantasy both uncharacteristically sappy and utterly embarrassing , so Tubbo pushed it down deep with the excuse that there was no way Ranboo would even think about getting a tattoo, let alone agree to get matching ones. 

But then Ranboo had casually mentioned stick and pokes and Tubbo hadn’t been able to get it out of his mind since. 

Leading him to the current moment: glaring at the amazon tab of a DIY stick and poke tattoo kit like it would somehow appear in his hands if he concentrated hard enough. Tubbo had closed and reopened the tab at least a dozen times in the last three days. He had the specs memorized at this point, all the way down to what sanitizing solution to purchase alongside it. 

His obsession was honestly a little concerning at this point. He had at least four incognito tabs open on his phone, all with different how-to's and tips and tricks for at-home stick and poke tattooing. It seemed doable, was the problem. Suddenly this whole fantasy thing was looking a tad too realistic for comfort. 

Tubbo’s mind was racing, so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't hear the door to the extension open, nor a person approaching behind him. 

"Whatcha looking at?" Lani's voice asked from over his right shoulder. The sudden noise made Tubbo shout and jump in his chair, his arm nearly smacking Lani in the face in the process. 

"What the hell, Lani?" Tubbo wheezed when he realized who it was, heart hammering in his chest. 

“What? Not my fault you’re oblivious.” 

Tubbo glared, but Lani just rolled her eyes, way too accustomed to her brother's threats for them to have any effect. Instead, she leaned over her shoulder to get a better look at the computer screen. "Tattoo kit?" Her brows raised. "Mum will kill you if you get a tattoo." 

Tubbo blanched. Oh, shit. He whipped back around and darted his hand quickly back over to the mouse and closed the window, as if that would erase from his sister’s mind the sight of the blaring evidence that had been displayed wide and clear over his large monitor. At least she couldn’t take a picture now?

Tubbo slowly turned his head back to Lani, eyes narrowed. "That's why we're not telling her." Each syllable was carefully articulated, eyes wide and imploring.  

Lani stared back at him for a moment longer before leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest. "What's in it for me?"

"Are you kidding me?" Was she really going to blackmail him over a tattoo, of all things? Then again, Tubbo imagined their mum really would kill him – full-on bury him in the garden murder – if she caught him trying to tattoo himself in the extension. 

Maybe he should listen to what Lani had to say after all. 

Lani let out a little gasp, bringing Tubbo make to the moment. Her face was lit up in excitement and she bounced a bit on her heels, all of it somehow even more terrifying than the threat that she would tattle to their mum. 

“What?” Tubbo asked, skeptical. “What is it? You’re scaring me.”

"Can I do the tattoo?" Lani spat out, hands gripping at the back of his chair as she leaned in close. 

Tubbo’s response was immediate. "No."

"Pleeeeaaase," she whined, hitting the back of his chair insistently. "I'm a better drawer than you! It'll turn out amazing, I promise." 

"No!" Tubbo fought the urge to roll his eyes. There was no way in hell he was trusting Lani with something this permanent. 

"I'm telling, then." 

"You wouldn't." 

"Really? You really want to test me?" 

“I’m not letting you tattoo me, Lani,” Tubbo insisted, exasperated. “No way in hell.”

Lani turned and started walking back toward the extension door. “MUM–”

Tubbo’s eyes widened and he jumped forward over the arm of his chair. “NO! No no no! Stop! Stop!” He grabbed her shoulder before she could make it too far and slammed a hand over her mouth. 

Lani swiveled to face him and their eyes met in a gridlock, twin glares shooting daggers. It was a typical sibling face-off, something they'd been through a million times before. Historically, the two were nearly matched in chaotic energy and conviction in their threats alike. It was never clear who the winner would be until it was called.

This time, Tubbo was the first to break. 

He tore his eyes away from their glaring match and spun his chair back around to his desk, dropping his hand as he went. "Fine," he grumbled, "You win." Before he could second guess himself yet again, he brought up his recently closed tabs and clicked to complete the Amazon purchase. After days of agonizing, it was done. Nothing like a little sibling pressure to commit to rebellion, apparently. 

"So what are you thinking of doing?" Lani asked as Tubbo grabbed his phone to check his notifications. 

"Hm?"

"What tattoo will you do?" 

Tubbo froze as his screen unlocked. His cheeks flushed, embarrassed suddenly at the reminder of what had inspired him to get the kit to begin with. 

"Oh, uh I-I'm not sure yet," Tubbo lied, navigating to his recent messages with Ranboo. He was running some errands for a shoot they had planned and had promised to tell Tubbo when he was getting back so he could bring food. 

"Sure." The eye roll was audible. "Let me know soon so I can make a design."

Tubbo did look up at that, genuinely surprised. "You’ll make a design and everything?" 

"Tattoos are permanent, idiot," Lani reminded him. "I'm your sister, not cruel." She leaned forward over his shoulder to look at the order confirmation on the screen. "When's the kit coming? Tomorrow?"

"Thursday," Tubbo corrected her. His stomach rolled with the realization that in just two days a tattoo kit would show up at his door, ready for him to use. Use for matching tattoos. With his boyfriend of only four months. Oh, God. What had he done? 

Lani made her way out of the extension, oblivious to her brother's crisis. "Send me what you want when you have it," she called from the kitchen, the click of the door from behind her signalling that Tubbo was, once again, alone to his thoughts. 

And boy, did he have a lot of thoughts. 

The most prevalent was the crystal clear “What the fuck?!” ringing out in his mind like an alarm bell, disseminating nervous energy through his limbs in a wave of unstoppable anxiety. It was all happening so quickly. Just days ago, this had all been an abstract fantasy concocted only in his loneliest moments, quiet mornings pre-meetup spent waiting for Ranboo to wake up and call him before classes becoming fodder for the sappiest shit he’d ever even thought of thinking. 

This moment now, though, two months later, was halfway between reality and not; Tubbo was in a similar state to then – wasting time away waiting for his boyfriend to return to him like some hopeless maiden – but, suddenly, the fantasy wasn’t a fantasy anymore, instead becoming a looming nightmare. 

On his phone in front of him, his messages with Ranboo stared back at him like an accusation. His stomach churned, a mixture of excitement and anxiety and fear all at once, anticipation like cough syrup coating his throat and making it hard to swallow. 

Tubbo still had to tell Ranboo. 

The thought was like placing his head under a hanging guillotine, Ranboo at the controls. He probably wouldn’t freak out. Probably. But probably was a terrifying word to place his bets on. 

Tubbo wasn’t vulnerable often, as a person. He didn’t cry in front of others, didn’t like to show that he was scared or confused, or that he was out of control in any way, really. It was something he’d been working on in regards to their relationship, especially since Ranboo moved to the UK, but it was still a challenge for him to lay his heart on the line in such an obvious way. To admit that couple tattoos were something he wanted for them and, even worse, that the idea of them made him warm and gushy inside, felt beyond his abilities.

Just then, his phone buzzed with a notification. As Tubbo glanced at his desk, he saw his chat messages with Ranboo update, one text coming in, quickly followed by another. 

Ranboo: heading back now

Ranboo: I have a surprise for you ❤️

Warmth fluttered in Tubbo’s chest and a soft smile stretched across his cheeks, softening his brow where it had been steadily furrowing with anxiety. He bit his lip as he grabbed his phone, fingers ready to type out Give a hint?? when his phone buzzed again. 

Ranboo: and no hints either

Ranboo: so don’t even ask

A bark of laughter forced its way out of his throat before he could stop it. Now, Tubbo was full-on grinning, cheeks aching with the force of it. Ranboo knew him too well, it seemed. 

He keyed in a quick response, a simple Okie :D C u soon <3 before closing his phone and practically throwing it down on the desk. Knees pulled up onto the chair, Tubbo burrowed his face in his hands. His stomach was alight with butterflies, toes curling into the leather of his seat reflexively. 

Four months. It had been four months of them dating and two of them living together and still Ranboo could make him feel like this – like the world was rainbows and unicorns and all they had to do to be happy was be together. 

Tubbo raised his head from his hands and stared at his computer. Suddenly, the order confirmation still sitting on his screen wasn’t a death sentence. How could Tubbo have doubted them? How, when this was his boyfriend: bringing him surprise gifts on his way home from an exhausting trip and knowing him well enough to predict his responses before he could even start to type them. 

Tubbo closed the Amazon tab. Idly, he spun in his chair, affection burrowing its way deep into his chest and spreading a contented warmth through his limbs. He was still grinning, cheeks flushed. 

He would make it a big surprise, he decided. When the tattoo kit came, he’d wrap it up all nice or present it in some fancy way. The details he could work out later, but, for now, Tubbo was excited . 

All that was left to do was wait. 

xxx 

Two days passed surprisingly fast. 

It was a blur of filming and streaming, then wake up and repeat, the few gaps they did have filled with anxiety at the big reveal come Thursday. Every free moment, Tubbo spent researching the stick and poke process and forwarding along video after video to Lani for her to watch. He’d sent her to the store on Wednesday to grab the few extra materials that didn’t come in the kit: isopropyl alcohol and an extra box of gloves, plus bandages for afterwards. 

The design for the tattoo was another thing. Tubbo knew what he wanted, but it was gross and meaningful , so he procrastinated telling Lani until she finally cornered him one morning before he’d fully woken up and threatened to back out of their deal if he didn’t reveal it to her right then and there. Tubbo had wanted to melt and leach away down into the soil when she’d awed and cooed at how sweet it all was, but it had at least gotten her off his case. 

Ranboo, on the other hand, seemed to be getting increasingly suspicious. Usually, when Tubbo finished streaming he would hover around Ranboo, whatever he was doing, and start bugging him, poking at him for attention or wrapping arms around his shoulders and pressing his forehead to the back of his neck. Recently, though, he’d been running in the opposite direction, heading up to the loft when Ranboo was at his desk, or curling up on the sofa when he was in the kitchen. The worst was when, at one point, Ranboo was pacing up and down and all around the extension, going from kitchen to desk to loft then back again, gathering odds and ends for a shoot he had planned for his horror series. Tubbo gave up finding a hidden corner in their apartment and instead retreated up to his old room, making sure to grab headphones on the way so the incriminating videos couldn’t be heard through the thin walls. When Ranboo found him a couple hours later, his face was pulled down in a frown, hurt expression deepening when Tubbo jumped to hide his phone at the intrusion. He hadn’t said anything, but Tubbo could tell the aftereffects of that hurt stuck with him for the rest of the night. 

It felt really, really shitty to hide something from Ranboo. There really hadn’t been much they’d kept from each other. At least, not on Tubbo’s end. Ranboo was a bit different; the man coveted his privacy like a starved animal did scraps of food, and Tubbo had to coax each and every tidbit of information from him with gentle fingers and whispered reassurances. But, as far as Ranboo was concerned, Tubbo was an open book. 

That is, until these last couple days. 

So when, finally, the amazon delivery for Thursday showed up and, mixed among two large packages of yet more crappy American junk food for Ranboo, Tubbo found the tattoo kit, packaging innocuous and generic, he let out a sigh of relief. For a few seconds, anyway. Because as soon as the relief from not having to hide something from his boyfriend hit, a new wave of anxiety took him over as he realized that meant he had to actually tell him about it . 

Tubbo took a deep breath, holding the package close to his chest. No. He wouldn’t go through this again. He wanted this and he wanted to do something special for Ranboo. There was no backing out now. 

Regretting that he had to be suspicious one last time, Tubbo darted off to the main house to gather wrapping paper and card stock. Not ten minutes later, he returned to the extension to find Ranboo sitting in one of the kitchen stools, knee bouncing a familiar staccato as he dug his fingers into his own packages. He was humming some off-beat tune, head bobbing with the rhythm of it even though he wasn’t wearing headphones. 

Tubbo paused in the doorway, fingers clutched tight around the box in his hands. Waves of emotions passed through him, both positive and negative, making his head light as he struggled to breath. His gut clenched, his food from earlier sitting heavy like lead as the walls of his stomach cramped down so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if he shit out a diamond later. 

In the early afternoon light, still sleep-rumpled and hunched over in his pajamas, Ranboo was so, so very real and Tubbo was so, so very in love. 

“Ranboo,” Tubbo greeted when he finally managed to speak over the lump in his throat. 

Ranboo looked up, hair flopping over his face with the sudden movement. He reached up with his free hand to brush it off to the side, and smiled. “Tubbo,” he responded, low and affectionate. His eyes fell to the messily wrapped package in Tubbo’s hand, surprise lighting up his features. “What’s this?”

Tubbo stepped forward, pulling the door shut behind him with a click . His face felt unbearably hot and the sharp corner of the box dug into his palm. 

“Erm, well,” he started, wandering forward until he felt the counter press against his abdomen, “I just got, er, a little something for you. Or, well, not … not just for you – for us. If you want! You don’t have to, but you were talking about stick and poke tattoos the other day with Tom and I‘ve had this idea for – for a while actually, erm …” Tubbo trailed off, more than aware that he was babbling at this point. 

“Stick and pokes? Tubbo, what …?” Ranboo looked confused. Of course he was confused. Tubbo wasn’t making any sense. 

It was like bugs were crawling up and down under his skin. His head felt like it was about to burst. “Just. Here.” Tubbo shoved the box at Ranboo, pushing it into his chest hard enough that Ranboo let out a soft oof at the impact. 

Long fingers curled around the box and gently pried it from Tubbos’s vice grip. Ranboo inspected it, turning it over in his hands, then smiled gently up at Tubbo. “Thank you,” he said and started to pick at the uneven seam in the wrapping paper. 

“Don’t thank me yet,” Tubbo warned, unable to tear his eyes away. 

“Well, that’s reassuring,” Ranboo laughed. He tore at the paper, revealing the unopened Amazon box underneath. “Do I open this, too?”

“Yes. Yeah.” Tubbo winced. “Erm, go ahead.”

It took a couple minutes, but Ranboo eventually managed to get the box open, finally revealing the tattoo kit inside. He stared at it wordlessly as Tubbo trembled across the counter, waiting for the inevitable. Nerves bubbled up in his throat until they burst out in the form of word vomit, “I know it’s stupid, probably, and you won’t want to do it, but I actually really, really like tattoos – like, a lot – and I’ve wanted to get, erm, c-couple tattoos with you for a while now, so when you said stick and pokes I, er…” 

Ranboo still wasn’t saying anything, eyes locked wordlessly on the tattoo kit and mouth slightly ajar. A sudden spike of anxiety flushed through him, and Tubbo rushed to take the box back, successfully snatching it from Ranboo’s hands. 

“You hate it, it’s fine. It’s totally fine. We can just forget about it and–”

“Tubbo.” 

At the sound of Ranboo’s voice, Tubbo forced his mouth closed with an audible click . He didn’t dare look up at his face, instead clutching the box close to his chest with trembling fingers. 

“Tubbo, hey.” His voice was soft and soothing. He didn’t … seem angry? 

One of Ranboo’s hands reached out to cup Tubbo’s cheek, tilting his chin up with gentle pressure. “Hey, look at me, okay?”

Tubbo obeyed, lifting wide eyes to meet his boyfriend’s. 

Ranboo was grinning. That was the first thing he noticed. He was grinning, wide and uncontrolled, white teeth on full display. His eyes were completely lost in it, narrowed to slits with the force of his expression, the apples of his cheeks flushed pink. He was beautiful, and Tubbo felt some of the tension melt out of his body at the sight of him. 

“I love it,” Ranboo said. 

“You do?” Tubbo’s voice was strained, the back of his throat aching like he was holding back tears. 

“I do.” 

Ranboo’s thumb swiped across his cheek, and he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to Tubbo’s lips. He had to crane over the countertop to do it, but his height was more than enough to make it work. The familiar pressure was like an instantaneous release, a weight that had been pressing down on Tubbo’s chest for the better part of the week lifting up and away as if plucked by some benevolent deity. He felt lightheaded with it, little bursts of endorphins lighting up in his brain like fireworks, and, without even realizing, he lost his grip on the box, letting it fall gently back to the counter. 

When they parted, Ranboo snickered. 

“What?”

“You wanna get matching tattoos with me,” Ranboo teased, grinning still. “Who knew you were such a romantic?”

“Shut up!” Tubbo’s face was flaming red as he pushed Ranboo back over to his side of the counter. Ranboo fell back onto the stool with an oof , laughing all the way. 

“Plus, you know,” Tubbo continued, voice small. “They don’t have to be matching, necessarily.”

“What do you mean?”

Tubbo’s eyes darted away. “I may already know what I want to get and I don’t – I mean, you’re welcome to get the same one if you want, big guy, but I sorta doubt you’ll want to.”

“You’ve really thought about this a lot, haven’t you?”

Tubbo’s gaze snapped back to Ranboo, glaring daggers. “Shut up ,” he reiterated. Normally, being vulnerable like this would sending him running – and it did bother him, making his skin prickle uncomfortably like he was on the way toward getting a fresh sunburn – but the way Ranboo was laughing comfortably before him, eyes crinkling at the corners and hair bouncing with his movements, sent all that worry scattering off into the abyss. 

“I think it’s cute.”

“Die.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Ranboo managed between laughs. “What is it you want to get?”

Tubbo’s cheeks burned. Maybe there was some limit to his vulnerability for the afternoon, after all. “You’ll see it after it’s done.”

“Oh, a surprise, okay, okay, cool.”

“Do you … know what you want?” Tubbo asked, genuinely curious. 

Ranboo hummed, crossing his legs as he thought. “I have a couple ideas. Not sure which to go with, just yet.” He swiveled back and forth on the stool, lower leg bouncing. 

Ranboo’s constant motion used to surprise Tubbo back when they first moved in together. He was always bouncing a leg or tapping his fingers and it would draw all of Tubbo’s attention the way that everything Ranboo did drew his full attention. By now, it was a comfort. Tubbo didn’t think he could fall asleep without Ranboo’s restless fingers drumming at his hip, at this point. 

“If we’re not getting matching ones, we should at least get them in the same place,” Ranboo pointed out, drawing Tubbo out of his contemplation. “That way they can be matching even if they’re not matching matching, ya know?”

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing,” Tubbo agreed. “I wanted to do our hands at first, but that won’t work.”

“No, no, no way,” Ranboo answered immediately, shaking his head vehemently. “Hands are way too out in the open.”

“Exactly. So, then I thought hip or, er, chest?” Tubbo blushed. “Over the heart, like?” 

“I already have one on my hip, so let’s do the heart.”

Tubbo blinked. Ranboo’s words slowly filtered through the cogs of his brain, churning around in error for a solid three seconds before they finally sunk in. 

And, when they did, Tubbo’s entire world flipped over on itself.

“Excuse me, what? ”

Ranboo furrowed his brows. “I have a tattoo on my hip already?”

“How did I not know this?” Tubbo was aghast. This felt like something important he should have known. They’d seen each other naked! How could he have missed this?

“I dunno, it’s really small and you’re not always the most, uh, well–” Ranboo cut himself off and cleared his throat.

Tubbo’s eyes narrowed. “You gonna finish that sentence, buddy?”

“Ha ha, nope . I’m good, actually.”

“Smart man.”

This was actually absurd. Two months – two months – of living in the same 500 square foot space and he’d missed a whole goddamn tattoo on Ranboo’s hip. Tubbo rounded the counter, immediately tugging at Ranboo when he was in reach. “Come on, come on, show me already,” he demanded. 

“Alright, alright.” Ranboo stood from the stool and tugged down the waistband of his pajama pants slightly over his left hip. “Like I said, it’s really small.”

There, sure enough, was a small tattoo. Tubbo hunched over to get a closer look, eyes narrowed. It was just three lines, each a different color: the top pink, the middle a light purple, and the bottom a deep blue. His eyes widened with the realization. 

“Oh, it’s–”

“The bi flag, yeah,” Ranboo finished for him. He snapped his waistband back in place, startling Tubbo back into standing. “I told you a friend of mine used to do stick and pokes at parties back in high school, right?”

“Yeah?” 

Tubbo wasn’t sure where this was going, but he clocked the sudden change in mood when Ranboo looked away, lowering back down onto the stool. He watched as his hands reached for the discarded wrapping paper and started tearing it off in thin pieces, leaving them to flutter to the ground listlessly.

“Well,” Ranboo started again with a sigh, “one night, I saw she had all different colors. Normally she’d only have black, but she’d gotten them as a gift or something recently, so she had the whole – the whole rainbow.

“It had been a bad day.” Ranboo swallowed, and when he continued, his voice was shaky. “My parents – you know how they are. But, well, I had sort of snuck out to go to the party to blow off some steam and I was just so … angry .” His fingers clenched on the wrapping paper, crumpling it up. In the next moment, he exhaled, releasing the paper along with his breath. “It was stupid, but it felt like a way to take my life back as mine, take it away from them. So, I asked her to do it. And she did, no questions asked.”

Tubbo reached forward and grabbed one of Ranboo’s now still hands in his own, squeezing once. Ranboo turned back to him then, smiling soft and sad. 

“She actually came out to me a couple weeks later,” he added. “We didn’t interact at school or anything, but we started texting a lot, just about being queer and how homophobic the school was.” He frowned. “I haven’t heard from her in a while, actually. I should reach out.”

“That sounds lovely,” Tubbo assured. 

“Yeah. Yeah, it was good to have someone to talk to.”

They sat like that for a moment, hands interlocked on the kitchen counter and comfortable silence drifting in and out with the breeze. There were so many emotions running through Tubbo at once, this time mostly positive. Nerves were there, too, of course – little butterfly flaps in his stomach every now and then stirring the pot – but mostly there was happiness and contentment, excitement and hope and love , so much love he almost couldn’t believe it hadn’t all bubbled over ages ago. 

A sudden thought struck Tubbo and he started giggling, hunching over uncontrollably. 

“What? What? What’s going on?” Ranboo asked, but Tubbo couldn’t get words out between his hiccuping laughs. “Is this finally your psychotic break? Do I need to lock you up for good?”

Tubbo shook his head, air coming in little gasps. “No,” he finally managed to choke out. “No, I–” he cut off with a wheeze, only continuing when he was able to get his breathing somewhat more under control. “I was freaking out about asking you about this because I thought you hated tattoos and you – you had one the whole time!” He broke down into laughter again, stomach cramping. 

“Oh, my God.” Ranboo shook his head, tone fond. 

It took a solid minute for Tubbo to calm down. The thought kept resurfacing every time he nearly had it under control and he would just burst out into giggles again. It wasn’t even that funny, but the lightheaded relief from finally getting the tattoo issue off his chest coupled with the irony that all his agonizing had been for nothing all along was enough. Maybe Ranboo was right and he really was losing it. 

Later, over their midafternoon breakfast, they discussed the greater details of the tattoo debacle. Tubbo explained to Ranboo about the deal with Lani, and Ranboo laughed for a good while before agreeing it was probably for the better. He’d seen both their art skills, after all, and didn’t trust either of them freehanding with a sharp object and permanent ink. 

They also decided to do the tattoos on Saturday. That gave Ranboo enough time to decide on a final idea and tell Lani so she could make a design. And his parents were planning on visiting some relatives a few towns over for the day, so they’d be out. It also left Lani time to practice once they found out what came with the kit they’d ordered. 

“ Fake skin?! ” Tubbo scrunched his nose up. “That’s so … How … Does it feel like actual skin?”

“Not really?” Ranboo answered from where he was inspecting the “blank fake practice skin” that had come along with the rest of the kit. “It’s kinda … spongy?”

“Gross.”

It turned out that Lani was actually pretty good at the tattooing bit. Like, surprisingly good. She filled up the practice skin with different little designs – stars and hearts and little planets of varying detail – and, although they started shaky at first, the lines uneven and scraggly in places, she quickly improved. After only a couple hours, she figured out how to differ the spacing between the dots to make a fading effect, and even drew a little bumblebee Friday evening that Tubbo swore looked nearly professional.

From there, time passed surprisingly quickly.

On Thursday, Saturday had felt ages away. But then, Tubbo blinked and suddenly he was sitting on the floor of the main room of the extension watching Lani lay out her impromptu workstation on their ottoman and trying not to make it obvious how nervous he was. 

The needles. Why hadn’t he considered the needles before now?

The kit had come with ten of them, each packaged separately, but Lani only laid out two on the breakfast tray she was using as her makeshift surface. They were long – five inches, according to the instructional manual – and, logically, Tubbo knew that it wasn’t the whole thing that was piercing him, but logic didn’t really factor in when the needle that his sister was about to use to dye the underneath of his skin was longer than her own hand. 

“You okay?” 

Ranboo’s voice startled Tubbo out of his thoughts from where he was lounged on the opposite end of the sofa from Lani and Tubbo. He was scrolling through his phone, arms and legs crossed, and looked as calm as he ever did – which was to say, moving at least one part of his body at any given time – and completely unaffected by the daunting task before them. It was wholly unfair. 

“Yeah? ‘M fine,” Tubbo responded in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone. 

“You sure? ‘Cus you’re lookin’ a little pale there, Tobes.” Ranboo’s eyebrows were raised and he phrased it like a joke, but Tubbo could tell there was genuine concern there. Regardless, Tubbo didn’t want to talk about how scared he was. Voicing it would only make it more real. 

“Did it hurt?” he asked instead. 

“Did wha – Oh, my tattoo?”

“Yeah.”

“A bit, yeah.” 

Tubbo couldn’t help the face he made at that, and Ranboo, seeing it, rushed to reassure him, “It’s not that bad, I promise. The only part that actually hurt was when she went over the same spot again and again. With the stick and pokes you need to poke multiple times around the same place to make the lines thick enough, and that’s what hurt.”

Tubbo hummed, unconvinced. It didn’t compute in his brain how being stabbed with a needle that big over and over wouldn’t hurt horrendously bad. 

Ranboo put his phone down, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees as he finally gave Tubbo his full attention. “Do you want me to go first? So you can see?”

“No,” Tubbo was quick to answer. “If I see her stabbing you first I don’t think I’ll be able to go through with it.” Either that or he’d throw up for sure. Already his stomach was queasy just watching the setup process. He wasn’t sure if it was nerves or the sight of the needles, but either way, watching Ranboo get his tattoo first would definitely break the final barrier between him and his gag reflex. 

“I won’t be stabbing you, Toby,” Lani cut in. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“You,” Tubbo warned, pointing a finger at his sister, “be quiet. I’ve given you far too much power here already.”

“You’re so stupid.” Lani shook her head as she placed the last few items on the breakfast tray. “It’s not stabbing , it’s poking . It’ll feel like bug bites, at most.”

Tubbo scoffed. “Yeah? And how would you know what it feels like, hm?”

She rolled her eyes. “Well I don’t know, obviously, but some one sent me, like, twelve hours of tattoo videos to watch. At this point I think I know more than you.”

Tubbo opened his mouth to object, but Ranboo spoke before he could, “She’s right, you know. It’s really not that bad. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

The scathing remark he was going to make to his sister melted on his tongue as he directed his attention back over to his boyfriend. Ranboo was still in his creased sweatpants and sleepshirt and sporting the worst bedhead imaginable, tucked into the corner of the sofa like he’d made his own little hollow there. He was unkempt and unpresentable to society, but here, on Tubbo’s sofa, in Tubbo’s living room, he looked like he was home. The thought burrowed deep into Tubbo’s mind and took up shop there, expanding and blossoming outward until his whole body felt ballooned with warm contentment. 

Tubbo didn’t know why it was striking him now, this newfound wave of “Oh, that’s why I’m doing this,” but it drove the nerves from his body until they were just the occasional tingle in his gut. The monumentality of this hit him then, propelling him out of his body for a brief second with the sheer size of it. It had only been a few months, but he felt so sure of it, so sure of them , that he was willing to tattoo it permanently on his body. 

There was still a small part of him, way down deep in the back of his brain, that reminded him it might not last. There was still a chance, considering their age, their fame, their mental health – all of it factored together, a disaster only ever a few seconds from erupting – that it would all fall apart in due time. But, despite that possibility, Tubbo still wanted the tattoo. Even if he lost Ranboo, even if they fell out of love or drifted apart, he couldn’t ever imagine wanting to lose the memory of him or what they’d built together in the short time they had. 

It was all so much building up inside him, too many feelings at once, that Tubbo was almost glad when Lani broke him out of his stupor with a rough shove. He looked down to see her pressing the flimsy disposable razor that had come with the tattoo kit against his chest. 

“Stop making goo goo eyes at your boyfriend and go shave, already,” she admonished, letting go of the razor as Tubbo grabbed it. 

He blinked down at his hand in confusion. “Shave?” 

“You’re going first, aren’t you?”

“Oh!” Tubbo jolted back into reality, shaking his head to dispel the last of the mush from his brain. He was supposed to shave the tattoo site. “Right, right. On it.”

The angle was awkward, his head craned down and chin pressing into his chest to see what he was doing, but Tubbo made quick work of the shaving, emerging from the bathroom only a couple minutes later to see Ranboo and Lani hunched over something on the sofa. 

“Is this some secret meeting?” Tubbo asked as he entered the room, holding his discarded shirt to his chest and curling his shoulders in with the chill. 

They both jumped apart at his voice, Lani, sliding a bit of paper behind her back before Tubbo could see what was on it. 

“I guess so,” he said, eyebrows raised. 

“Just – finalizing my tattoo design,” Ranboo explained, cheeks uncharacteristically flushed. 

“Oh, er, don’t mind me then,” Tubbo assured, wandering over to his desk to find the aircon remote. “Whisper away.” 

“I think we’re about done, actually,” Lani said. “Right?”

“Yeah, yup, looks good to me.” 

“You ready, Tobes?”

Tubbo found the remote for the aircon and ticked the temperature up a few notches. “Yeah, sure, definitely.” He headed over to the sofa and scooched over so he was lying down and propped up against the arm near where Lani had set up her station. 

“You’re not … nervous, anymore?” Ranboo sounded worried, and when Tubbo glanced over at him, he was picking at his cuticles absently, eyes furrowed. 

Tubbo smiled. “No, actually. I’m feeling pretty good about this,” he said, and it wasn’t a lie. The needles scared him still – It was normal to be afraid of pain, alright? – but there was no anxiety surrounding getting the actual tattoo, none of the worry from the previous week of agonizing over this nonstop. For the first time in a while, Tubbo felt content. 

“So, how are we doing this, then?” Lani asked, sitting down next to her workstation. “You don’t want to reveal until after, right?”

“Yes?” Ranboo looked at Tubbo for reassurance. 

“Yeah, let’s wait until they’re both done,” Tubbo agreed. 

They spent the next few minutes figuring out where Ranboo would wait while Lani did Tubbo’s tattoo. He offered to sit in the loft or the kitchen, or even go into the big house if needed, but ultimately they decided it was fine for him to sit at Tubbo’s desk so long as he didn’t use his freakishly long neck to try and see what was happening on the sofa. Secretly, Tubbo was glad. He would never admit it, but having Ranboo in the room was a huge comfort. 

With that figured out, it was time to begin. 

Tubbo’s heart picked up under Lani’s hand as she swiped the isopropyl alcohol along the spot, starting in the center then spiraling outward to prevent contamination. As the alcohol dried, she grabbed the stencil she’d made of his design, laying it on and tracing over it carefully with sharpie. The cold of the marker made Tubbo flinch when it touched his skin, and Lani placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. 

“You better not move this much when it’s the needle,” she warned, starting once again to trace careful blue lines on his skin. 

“Shut up,” Tubbo shot back, but his voice cracked on the second syllable, nerves creeping into his throat again. It was nowhere near as bad as before, this time around something akin more anticipation than actual fear. 

Lani, luckily, didn’t deign him with a response, instead lifting up her stencil to admire her handy work. “How’s that look?” she asked. 

Tubbo craned his head down to see, and was shocked at the swell of emotion that rose in him. It wasn’t even there yet, but his brain didn’t know that. It saw the design and immediately thought him , which – that was the point, wasn’t it?

“It’s perfect,” Tubbo said. He didn’t mean for it to come out as sappy as it had, saccharine tones of affection dripping through his voice like honey from a harp string. 

“I can’t wait to see,” Ranboo’s voice drifted over from the corner of the room. Tubbo couldn’t see him without twisting to see around Lani, but the reminder that he was there made him smile nonetheless. 

“I’ll get started, then.” Lani discarded the marker on the tray and picked up the needle holder instead. It was an ugly magenta color and looked somewhat like a box cutter, only without the blade. Tubbo watched as she unwrapped the needle and slid it into the grip, wrapping the tape around it after to secure it into place. 

It looked weird like that, with the whole contraption around it. It seemed less scary, too, most of the needle hidden behind the plastic of the device, though that didn’t really change what it was. 

Regardless, some of Tubbo’s trepidation about the tattoo began to fade as she finished her preparations. That is, until the moment Lani pressed forward to do the first poke. Despite his better judgement, Tubbo’s whole body tensed tight, preparing for the inevitable prick of pain on his chest. When it came, it was startling, like someone had taken a toothpick and jabbed him with it unexpectedly. But there was none of the sharp pain he’d been expecting. It didn’t feel like a shot either, just a short pinprick and done. 

Lani moved back after the first poke, sensing Tubbo’s stiffness. “Okay?”

“Yeah, actually,” Tubbo said. “That’s … not that bad.”

“Told you, idiot.”

“Oi!”

Lani continued then, pausing every three to four pokes to dip back into the ink or swipe at the excess pigment pooling on his skin. She traced closely along the lines, doubling back every once in a while to thicken a spot here or there. It turned out what Ranboo said was true – the pain was tolerable until the second round of pokes, the pricking on the already sensitive skin burning far more than before. For what it was worth, Tubbo only winced a couple times, instead biting at his lip both to distract himself and hold in any noises that threatened to escape. 

In total, it took about an hour from first to last poke. 

“I think … I think I’m done,” Lani said, pulling away after wiping over the tattoo yet again with the black-stained kitchen roll. 

Tubbo slid up on his elbows and tried his best to get a look at the finished product. The whole area stung like a fresh sunburn, and the skin was red and slightly puffy around it, but he could still see the tattoo there, thin black lines laid out over his heart as a promise. 

“Ranboo, close your eyes so Toby can go see it in the mirror,” Lani instructed. 

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Ranboo brought his hands up over his eyes obediently. He still seemed absurdly calm, which Tubbo thought was ridiculous. He, for one, was nearly trembling with excitement at this point. 

“I can go look?”

“Yes! Go!” Lani waved him off. 

Without any more prompting, Tubbo bolted off the sofa and over to the bathroom. The little gasp he let out when he stood before the mirror was entirely involuntary, the sight of the ink on his skin, not just when looking down at himself, but when seeing his whole self in the mirror, jarring in the best way possible. 

A grin crept up along his face as he stared at the three solid arches of black over his heart, and he leaned forward over the sink to get a better look. It was a rainbow, even without the color, recognizable, at least, to him, which was all that mattered. Happiness bubbled low in his stomach. This felt right . It felt like this is what his skin should have looked like all along, and by tattooing his mark there, he was just matching up this reality to the one in his mind. 

The temptation to touch the tattoo and prove it was really marked on his skin was strong, but Tubbo resisted. It was an open wound, after all, and the last thing he wanted was for it to get ruined because he was too hasty and got an infection. 

When Tubbo was finally able to tear himself away from the mirror, Lani helped him disinfect and wrap it up. The entire time that was happening, Ranboo was sitting quietly in the corner, eyes still covered. His elbows were resting on his knees so that he was hunched over almost in a prayer position, back arched and expression unintelligible with the way his face was covered in shadow. 

“You getting nervous, Boo?” Tubbo called over as Lani placed the last of the tape over his bandage. It was meant to be lighthearted, but Ranboo jolted at the sound of his voice, and suddenly Tubbo didn’t think it was much of a joke anymore. 

“No, just … thinking,” Ranboo replied, voice small. He still hadn’t moved from his position, even though Tubbo’s tattoo was now fully covered. 

At that moment, Lani finished with the bandages and stood, saying something about using the bathroom before walking off and out of the extension. The door closed behind her with a click, leaving just Tubbo and Ranboo alone. 

Tubbo pulled his shirt back over his head, wincing as the movement pulled taut the stinging skin on his left pec, and moved over by Ranboo, rolling the other office chair to sit across from him. “Care to share your thoughts with the class, big guy?”

“It’s nothing bad, but …” Ranboo trailed off, his voice muffled in his hands. 

Tubbo placed his own hands over Ranboo’s wrists and tugged them forward in a clear gesture for him to uncover his face. Ranboo followed with no hesitation, and Tubbo was struck again by how far they’d come trust-wise since they met. Tubbo knew that showing his face to others didn’t bother him nearly as much as seeing it himself, but it was still something, that Ranboo didn’t even pause when it came to revealing himself to Tubbo. 

Tubbo scooched forward until their knees were pressed together, Ranboo’s wrists still in his own grip and resting on their legs. He smiled up at him, his contemplative face all scrunched up in worry, and waited, knowing that Ranboo would continue when he wanted to. 

“Like I said, it’s nothing bad, just.” Ranboo hesitated again, glancing away, then back, as if the walls had some answer he was searching for. “Isn’t this … a lot?”

A couple days ago, Ranboo’s question would have destroyed Tubbo. When he was doubting, when he was so tangled up in his own head that he was sure Ranboo would hate him if he spoke his mind, that one question would have ripped him open and tore him apart, leaving him an eviscerated mess on the pavement for the crows to pick at. 

Now, though, with his new revelation, with the reminder of his love for this man literally tattooed on his heart, it only made him smile. 

“No,” Tubbo said, and it was with such surety that it surprised even him. “No, I don’t think so. I think this is just about right, actually.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Tubbo hummed, contemplative. He turned the words he wanted to voice over and over on his tongue, doing his best to shape them into the right order before putting them out into the world, for once. “I’m not, really,” Tubbo admitted, after a moment. “I mean – it’s – we’ve not even known each other a year! How could I be sure about forever?”

Ranboo’s eyebrows scrunched and he looked down at his lap. 

“But,” Tubbo continued, Ranboo’s eyes snapping back up to meet his, “even if I’m not sure about forever, I’m sure about us right now. Like, who knows if we’ll be together in a month, a year – I want us to be, but there’s too much, it’s too complicated to – to be 100% about that.

“Right now, though, I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything before.” The confession made Tubbo’s stomach squirm and cheeks heat up, splotchy and red, but he forged onward, “How I feel right now, it makes me want us to be forever. This tattoo–” Tubbo placed his hand gingerly over where the bandage lay under his shirt. “–represents how I feel right now. I don’t know about you, but I want to remember this feeling for the rest of my life, even if we break up some day.

“And if we don’t,” Tubbo adds, tightening his hold on Ranboo’s wrists, “even better! I’ll have this tattoo as proof I knew you were something special after only a handful of months.” He grinned, and Ranboo gave a tentative smile in return. 

Ranboo blinked rapidly, eyes wet with unshed tears. When he spoke, his voice was rough with emotion, “I think I am sure.” He flipped his hands over in Tubbo’s hold and shifted so their hands could interlock, fingers lacing together in a familiar pattern. “I never even really had a crush before you, and, God–” he cut off, tilting his head back and blinking to stave off tears. “You’re my universe, Toby. I know we said not to reveal our tattoos until after, but it’s really – it’s what you are to me, and it’s so much and it’s so big .”

Ranboo’s gaze dropped back down to Tubbo, his smile warbling like he was seconds away from sobbing. “I can’t imagine loving anyone else but you, and it’s terrifying.”

Tubbo felt like his breath had been stolen right out from his lungs, siphoned out by Ranboo’s words. It was terrifying, just like Ranboo said. But it was worth it, too. It was worth everything Tubbo had to give, and he would give anything to keep it. 

“You’re gonna make me cry, Boo,” Tubbo chuckled, even as his eyes were stinging. 

“I already am, so it’s only fair.”

They stayed like that in their near embrace until Lani came back from the bathroom and forced them apart. This time, Tubbo took up Ranboo’s position on the chair while Ranboo laid back on the sofa. His leg bounced impatiently as he watched the back of Lani’s head, the steady pop pop pop of the needle entering and leaving Ranboo’s skin reaching him even from the other side of the room. The sound was even more unsettling when it wasn’t him getting tattooed, so, eventually, he turned around and decided to check his business email, sending off droning responses for the better part of an hour and a half before Lani finally announced it was finished. 

Tubbo’s shoulders tense as he resisted the urge to turn around and look immediately. Instead, he waited patiently as Ranboo checked his own tattoo in the mirror and Lani cleaned it one final time. Unlike with Tubbo’s, she didn’t wrap it, instead leaving them to finish themselves. 

“My hand is killing me now,” she complained as she cleaned everything up and out of the way. “I feel like you owe me now.”

“No, nope, deal is a deal.” Tubbo shook his head, still not turning around. 

With that, Lani left them alone, grumbling something about ungrateful brothers under her breath as she went. Tubbo ignored her, sitting in the tense silence she left and wondering what to do next. 

Ranboo was the first to break the quiet. “So …”

Tubbo’s heart was pounding. “Yeah, let me just …” He swiveled around on his chair and headed back over to the sofa, pulling his shirt off as he went. It got stuck on his head, halfway there and he stumbled, accidentally falling forward and bumping Ranboo with a stray elbow. Ranboo’s hands found his shirt and helped him get it the rest of the way off. 

When Tubbo finally popped out, Ranboo’s face was right in front of his own. He grinned. “Hiya.”

“Hello to you, too.”

Tubbo pulled away and settled down on the sofa, pulling one leg up so he could face Ranboo head-on. “Okay, okay,” he said, but didn’t move. 

Ranboo had a pillow propped up in front of him to block the tattoo, and he raised an eyebrow from behind his plush wall. “You good?”

“Fine,” Tubbo assured him. “I’m fine.” His whole body was alight with a tingling sensation, like fireflies pulsing under his skin, dancing in the summer evening. 

“If you’re sure.” Ranboo’s fingers thrummed at the pillow, a light pink dusting his cheeks. “Should we both reveal at once?”

“I think so, yeah,” Tubbo said, his own fingers raising to pull at the edge of the bandage tape. “I just need to get this thing off …” He tugged at it, wincing as the tape pulled at his already sensitive skin. 

“Fuck, Lani really stuck it on there,” he grumbled, finally managing to pull up a corner. He placed his free hand to block the sight of the tattoo and slowly peeled it off, leaving just the bottom bit stuck on for the reveal. 

“There. Ready?”

Ranboo nodded, tension pulling at the corners of his eyes. Tubbo could feel the nerves radiating off of him from where he sat, though maybe it was just the fluttering in his own stomach making it seem that way. 

“On three?” 

“Okay.”

“1…

“2 …”

“3–”

Pulse racing, Tubbo tugged off the last section of the bandage right as Ranboo threw down the pillow. His eyes locked on Ranboo’s chest, gasping as he took in the design there. 

It was much more complex than Tubbo’s own. The main bit was split in two halves, the left side a blackened crescent moon and the right the outline of the sun, long rays bursting off it in a half-moon pattern. To the left of the moon, there were three stars sketched out along the border, twinkling black on Ranboo’s pale skin like an inverse of the night sky. 

It was breathtaking. Tubbo couldn’t comprehend how it was possibly for him , that something this beautiful could remind Ranboo of him in any way. 

“Is that a rainbow?” Ranboo’s voice pulled him from where he was staring, jaw dropped, at his chest. 

“Huh?” Tubbo blinked up at him, taking in how Ranboo’s face was slack with awe, eyes still locked on Tubbo’s heart. “Oh, yeah, er.” Tubbo felt his face heat up. With his chest exposed, he was sure the flush was working its way down his neck, impossible to miss. 

“Because – Because of my name?”

“Yes. Well,” Tubbo corrected himself. “Yes and no.”

Ranboo’s gaze rose back up to meet Tubbo’s, eyebrows furrowed. “Explain?”

Tubbo groaned, pulling his other leg up so he could prop up his knees in front of him. He wrapped his arms around them, burrowing his face in his knees. “Ugh, it’s so embarrassing, dude.”

“More embarrassing than getting couple tattoos to begin with?”

Tubbo peeked out from behind his legs, glaring up at Ranboo. “Touche.” He pulled himself back up somewhat, fully emerging, but keeping his arms wrapped around his knees. 

“Right, so,” he started, clearing his throat. “Your name is part of it, cus, like, you’re Ranboo, which is rainbow said a little funky, and this–” He gestured to the tattoo. “–is a rainbow designed kinda funky.”

Ranboo let out a bark of laughter at that, seemingly unable to contain himself. Tubbo glared at him. “Sorry, sorry. Continue, please.”

Tubbo rolled his eyes. “ Anyway – It’s not just that, though. It’s also, like …” He paused, struggling to find the words. “You bring color to my life, or something. Everything’s all … rainbows and butterflies and gross, sparkly shit, because of you.”

“Tubbo …”

“Plus, I’m very gay for you,” he added, blatantly covering up the emotional vulnerability with a joke. 

Ranboo sighed. “Of course.”

Tubbo’s eyes dropped back down to Ranboo’s tattoo, and the sight took his breath away for a second time that day. “And yours?”

“Well, I sort of already told you.” 

“What?”

“You’re my universe, Toby,” he said like it was a matter of fact. “You’re my sun, my moon and my stars. Or maybe you just hung them for me, I don’t – I’m not too sure on the details.”

Tubbo thought he might cry. But instead, he said, “Fuck. That’s deep, dude.”

“I can’t believe you.” Ranboo shook his head, but he was smiling. 

“Sorry!” Tubbo exclaimed, throwing his hands up and dropping his knees. “I don’t know what’s come over me. I think I’m emotionally wrung out from this week. No more romantic shit from me for … at least a month.”

“Noooo, what about going to see Shang-Chi?”

“I’ll see the film with you, but we’ll be going as bros. Best bros. Homies, even.”

“I would never call you just my homie, Tubbo. How could you?”

“Sorry you had to find out this way, but I have to be true to how I feel.”

They both dissolved into giggles at that, falling forward into one another. Ranboo’s forehead knocked lightly at the back of Tubbo’s head, which only made them laugh harder. 

Eventually, Tubbo reached out to grip Ranboo’s shoulder to steady himself, laughter dying down to errant chuckles. He felt buoyant with it, the laughter making him lightheaded.

“It’s really beautiful, Boo,” Tubbo spoke, voice low. He ran his fingers near it, careful not to disturb the tattoo itself. “I love it.”

“Yours, too,” Ranboo returned. Tubbo felt lips press against his forehead as Ranboo leaned down, then the weight of another head on his. “Thank you for this idea. For the gift.”

Tubbo pulled back and rolled his head up until their foreheads were pressed together. “All for you,” he said, and closed the small distance between them. 

It wasn’t much of a kiss, more of a slight pressure, just the weight of each other there. It was enough for that moment, though. 

Later, they would pull apart and bandage up each other’s tattoos again. They’d make dinner together, shuffling around each other in the small space as they emptied canned tomato sauce into a pot and toasted pre-made garlic bread. Maybe they’d even decide to take the day off from streaming entirely, instead settling down to play old Wii games together until his Mum came and yelled at them to keep the noise down. 

For now, though, they sat there, cross-legged and facing each other on a late summer afternoon, because, as far as either of them were concerned, they had forever. 

xxx

Bonus

“What the fuck is that?” Tommy’s screech echoed through the changing room. 

It was for this very reason Tubbo was glad they’d decided to rent out the entire sports center instead of going when it was open to the public. Tommy was embarrassing enough by himself, let alone around other people. 

“What are you on about?” Tubbo asked as he turned around to where Tommy was staring at a freshly-shirtless Ranboo. 

Oh. 

“It’s a tattoo,” came Ranboo’s deadpan response. 

“I – Of course it’s a bleeding tattoo,” Tommy spluttered. “But since when do you have one?”

“How would you know if I didn’t before, hm? Spend a lot of time staring at my chest, do you?”

“ No , no, I do not –”

“Shut it, Tommy,” Tubbo cut him off. He already felt like he was on the verge of a migraine, and he was sure whatever tirade Tommy was about to go on would not help matters. He tugged off his own shirt, folding it in front of him, when–

“YOU HAVE ONE, TOO?!”

Tubbo rolled his eyes, not even bothering to respond at this point. 

Tommy continued on regardless, grumbling under his breath the entire time they were packing up. “Ungrateful little … Didn’t tell me … best friend, my arse … Wouldn’t even let me do a vlog …”

Tubbo finished redressing in his street clothes first, wandering past where Ranboo was changing and leaning up to press a quick peck to his cheek, before heading out. 

The conniption Tommy had when he saw was just a bonus.