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“Why are we here, daddy? Are we visiting Uncle Tommy?” Michael signs.
“Uncle Tommy kindly let us take some stuff from his garden over to our new greenhouse in the mansion!” Ranboo explains.
“Those flowers are an invasive species anyways…” Tommy grumbles.
“Sure,” Tubbo smirks, picking one from the stem and placing it in Michael’s hair.
“What if we get all dirty?”
“Then we’ll just clean you up when we get home,” Ranboo pecks him on the cheek.
Tommy doesn’t want to admit how cute the moment was. Ever since Wilbur’s came back he’s been openly hating on Ranboo a little less, even if just to spite Wilbur. Ranboo seems to have noticed, inviting him to more family functions.
“Which flower’s your favorite Tommy?”
His eyes light up, “It’s hard to have a favorite when they all mean so many things. They really liven up the place, don’t you think?”
Tommy had replanted some of the flowers Ranboo had left scattered about his lawn next to his potato farm. Puffy said it would be therapeutic, and honestly it was.
Suddenly, two little hands covered Tommy’s eyes, he panicked momentarily before realizing they only belonged to Michael. He removes them and looks over at Tubbo’s whose own eyes were being covered by Ranboo’s. The toddler was mimicking his parents, he guessed.
“Guess who?”
“The most spectacular enderman-hybrid alive, I’d presume?” Tubbo jokes.
Ranboo thanks him for the compliment by peppering his face in kisses and Tommy wishes his body would just let him be disgusted. It’s hard to vomit with a three-year-old on your back, giggling away at his parents’ antics.
“Are they being gross?” Tommy coos to Michael.
Michael nods, not fully understanding the question.
“See, guys? Michael agrees with me!”
“What, so you don’t do this with your, what was it? Ten girlfriends?” Tubbo teases.
“There are five and we are all happy together!” Tommy lies, “We don’t do gross stuff like that because they are too busy feeling my numerous muscles and telling me how good at PVP I am.”
“Haven’t you lost, like, every duel you’ve ever been in?”
“Not true, I beat Wilbur the other day. Also, I would rather not talk about my failures today, Tubbo.”
Suddenly, Michael stands up, trying to get everyone’s attention. When all eyes are on him, he snorts happily.
“Last one to the bench and back has to be at the bottom of the snuggle pile!”
Tommy scoffs, “Snuggle pile? Is that another lame family thing you do-”
By the time he finishes saying this, the other three are already making a mad dash for the bench. Tommy stumbles along behind them, but even then he arrives back last.
“Uncle’s at the bottom! Uncle’s at the bottom!”
“Not happening!”
“Oh, totally happening,” Ranboo argues. He gives his husband a quick kiss, before closing in on Tommy, who pretends to shriek in horror.
He hates to admit how warm his friends are, once they all become squished against him, sighing in content. The severely touch-starved part of his brain wants the contact to never end. Michael curls up in a ball in Tubbo’s lap, who is draped across both him and Ranboo.
“This was nice today, guys.”
“Ha! I knew you liked it!”
“Shut up, Tubbo,” he grumbles, still smiling.
“Tommy likes the snuggle pile!” Ranboo sings to Michael, who giggles.
“Okay,” Tommy admits at last, “Maybe I do.”