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Ranboo really shouldn’t have expected any less from his friend and his ridiculous, impulsive decisions, but Tommy never fails to surprise him every single time.
“And your first thought was to see me?” Ranboo asks again, hands pinching the bridge of his nose as if he didn’t believe what the blond just told him minutes ago. To be fair, he honestly couldn’t.
“Yeah? ‘Cause why not?” Tommy answers like it’s the simplest thing ever, like it was a decision his mind had easily latched on to and committed. The idea melts Ranboo into a stupidly, smitten puddle of a 19 year old and it’s unfair, he thinks—so unfair.
The thing is, there’s this ice beneath them that they’ve been threading on for months now. They skate across it, hearts in their hands with awestruck smiles, not exactly meeting. There’s something in-between the longing looks during calls, and the ever-so casual flirting they do even off-stream. It’s only a matter of who’s brave enough to reach out.
Ranboo thought he’d successfully left his feelings back in England, locked in a chest and abandoned in Bognor Regis’ waters never to be seen again.
Because if he was going to be honest here, he doesn’t think he can handle any form of rejection from Tommy so soon. Not yet at least, not until he’s back in that country that only served to make him fall harder for a golden-haired boy; all loud and bright, but sweet under the moonlight that evening they spent walking along the shore.
Picking up rocks, picturing the moon, and a silent mutual understanding. God, does Ranboo miss it.
And God, does Ranboo want to break the ice beneath them. Shattering the ever-living hell out of it so he can finally shout how much he loves his ranting, his quirks, the nerding-out they do together, the calls, the looks—everything.
Tommy’s unexpected appearance in his home felt like a physical reminder of his feelings chasing back after him. That no, he was not triumphant in whatever sorry attempt he made in compressing his heart, so here’s the boy you’ve been pining on since September delivered to you on your doorstep. Enjoy!
He currently has a different dilemma entirely, however, so he’s gonna have to box this and put it on the shelf for the time being.
“You’re actually unbelievable. I have no words to spare you, right now,” he says, standing up from the edge of his bed. He means this in the best way possible, because Tommy could’ve gone anywhere else, yet California somehow managed to rope him in.
“Sorry, I can leave if you’re like, upset, genuinely.” Tommy scratches his cheek timidly, shifting in his feet, before offering him a shy smile. “Just thought it’d be nice to see you first.”
Ranboo’s posture softens, arms falling to the side as he walks closer to him. “I’m not. I feel… the opposite, actually. I’m really, really happy, Tommy—” He then locks Tommy’s hand with his, “—but please tell me you told someone you flew out here.”
“Tubbo.”
“Someone that isn’t Tubbo!” Ranboo squeezes his hand to emphasize his point. “That snitch, he told you my address didn’t he?”
“He did, but don’t tell him that! The next thing I know he’s gon’ be using his billionaire influence to make sure my plane fucking crashes on my way home.” Tommy swings their interlocked hands back-and-forth, and Ranboo tries not to let his face show how endeared he is by the small action.
There are just certain things Tommy does that makes you think, “yeah, that’s so Tommy”; it’s like he puts a speck of his personality in every single movement, and he adores it.
“Honestly? Deserved. Your landlord must be so happy that he hasn’t had to use the phone to tell you off.”
Ranboo sighs disappointedly when Tommy untangles their fingers, returning to openly studying every part of his room and touching any trinket he finds interesting or odd. “Were you supposed to do anything before I came, ‘Boo?”
“I was actually planning to do a Twitter Space since I wasn’t able to stream, but…” To be honest, he’s not fond of doing a space anymore. He wants to direct his complete attention to the boy instead while telling him the stories behind the unusual crap scattered in his bedroom.
“What? Go on, then! Don’t let me stop you. I can even pretend I’m not here,” Tommy insists and flops down on his unicorn chair.
“Well, I can’t pretend when you’re literally right there.” There’s absolutely no way he’ll focus on the space if Tommy’s close to him. He can already see himself getting lost mid-sentence, and knowing his community, they’re awfully perceptive. They’ll catch on his weird behavior instantly. “Wanna do the space with me?”
Tommy shrugs. “Sure. Twitter will not react lightly, though.”
“When does Twitter ever react lightly?” Ranboo shakes his head, gesturing to Tommy to sit beside him on the bed. “Come here.”
The blond squeaks when he’s abruptly pulled to the mattress and pressed to Ranboo’s side. He swallows down a snicker, purposely bumping their knees and elbows together for the sake of teasing more. He would’ve stopped months ago, but Tommy’s reactions are simply too entertaining.
“Ready?”
Tommy nods, and Ranboo doesn’t mention the fingers playing with the sleeve of his shirt, glancing at the other who’s fixated on his infamous ‘grandma’ sign. They let people flood in for a few minutes.
“Hey everyone! How are we? Sorry I wasn’t able to stream, the wi-fi was acting stupid.” He pauses when he sees Tommy reach for the sign from before. “What are you doing?”
“The grandma sign and I are shaking hands, y’know. I look at it and I think, ‘wow, we totally get each other!’”
“Tommy’s here, by the way. Want to say hi?”
Tommy settles back beside him, fiddling with the item. “Ayup, fellas. Guess who broke into Ranboo’s house and is trespassing in America’s borders.”
“He did, he did. The authorities are finding him as we speak.” Ranboo then raises an eyebrow at him. “So you like it now that you’ve seen it in person?”
“I never said I hated it, man! I just said how fuckin’ obscure and ‘Ranboo’ these signs are,” Tommy argues. “Once I leave your house, you’ll find the grandma sign missing, and you’ll be like, ‘oh no! Where’s the grandma sign!’ and I will laugh because it will be tucked in my pocket going home to England with me.”
He huffs out a laugh. “Thanks for telling me your scheme, I’ll be sure to look away when it happens so I don’t catch your well-thought out crime.”
“Thank you, Ranboo. You’re so supportive. I can always rely on you.” Tommy smiles, much too sincere. It punches something inside him.
“You can’t just…” He looks at the floor, ears burning.
“What!?” Tommy exclaims, giggling and grabbing ahold of his forearm. “You are, you are! Do you not believe me?”
Ranboo’s going to explode, he truly will. The happy giggling is too much for him to bear, he forgot what it felt like just existing next to Tommy and his cheerful energy. He wants to orbit around it for as long as he can.
And maybe it’s the sudden adrenaline rush, but he gets bold.
“Can I have a hug then? As an apology for surprising me and my parents.” Ranboo can’t even begin to explain how shocked his parents were when they found Tommy outside their door; red hoodie, black coat, and luggage in tow.
He’s confident to say he’s as shocked as they were, maybe even more! Getting your VISA processed is absolute hell on Earth, and Tommy complains to him as much while Ranboo nods along in sympathy. Trust him, he knows.
Perhaps it slipped from his mind, because now that he’s looking back on it, he does recall Tommy excitedly blabbering to him about getting approved. Approved on what? He didn’t have the chance to ask. Tommy had hopped on another subject by the time he registered what he said seconds ago.
Tommy parts his lips in surprise, but recovers quickly with a silly jest. “Oh you know I love giving out apologies as much as the next influencer.”
Ranboo rolls his eyes and stands, holding his arms out. He ignores how incredibly earnest Tommy acts as he crashes himself on to his chest, slotting perfectly in his hold like a missing puzzle piece. He’s certain there’s a part of his heart shouting, “aha! Found you!” and it’s ridiculous, although he doesn’t disagree.
There’s been this underlying eagerness in Tommy’s steps since he arrived. The blond is giddy, lanky form buzzing with obvious joy and impatience. It seems as though all of that enthusiasm is poured into this very moment when Tommy pulls him closer, hiding his crimson cheeks away from view.
Ranboo sees it anyway. There really isn’t anything Tommy can hide if he’s constantly paying attention to him, unfortunately. He tries stepping back and unwrapping his arms, but Tommy whines in protest, burying his face in his chest further.
“Hm? What’s this?” Ranboo teases, though he presses himself to the boy just as much, nosing the top of his hair.
“Don’t be a bitch. Just stay here a little longer,” Tommy mutters under his breath. Ranboo has no qualms in indulging, giving him a hearty chuckle.
“Mhm, sure.”
The taller eventually begins swaying their bodies, stepping their feet left-and-right to an imaginary rhythm only they could hear.
“This reminds me of that movie you love so much. La La Land, I think it was,” Tommy mumbles to his chest, tracing circles on his back. “I’m not very good at dancing. I think the last time I danced was with Tubbo, and we were just punching the air and shit.”
“I don’t dance either, but I know how to waltz a bit. I can teach you a little.” Prom is the reason why he’s managed to store some knowledge in waltzing. It’s faint and barely there, but it should be enough.
“Really?”
“Yeah! Here, wait. Let’s move here.” Ranboo takes his phone from the bed and urges them towards the free space in the middle of his room. He splits his screen, typing in waltz music in Spotify’s search bar and picking the first playlist he finds.
Sounds of a piano and violins steadily fill the space. Ranboo isn’t sure if people can still hear them talking over the music, yet he can’t find it in himself to care as he discards his phone somewhere and looks back at Tommy.
“Okay? Then what—Oh.” Tommy bites his cheek, feeling hot under his collar when Ranboo grabs his hand and gently places it on his left shoulder. Another hand grasps his hip, tugging him close. “Uhm.”
“So what you have to do is you gotta take a step backwards when I take a step forward, and we’re gonna end up making this sort of, like, box movement around the floor,” Ranboo explains, before peeking back up at him with a reassuring smile. “But you’ll be fine as long as I’m leading you.”
Tommy exhales. “Alright, go on then, waltz master.”
Their feet tangle at first for some peculiar reason, but they manage to find their footing through their inept dance regardless. Tommy’s too caught up in getting the steps right, brows furrowed in concentration—to notice the tender gleam in Ranboo’s eyes.
The boy glows in a way Ranboo can’t comprehend. He outshines even the bright colorful lights in his bedroom; how is that possible? Ranboo wants to know the answer, though the proud lips curling upward distracts him. It can wait another time, he guesses, as Tommy finally peers up at him.
Tommy winks, and Ranboo almost chokes. “Hey, good-looking. How are we this fine evening?”
“Hey to you too, pretty boy. I’m doing quite swell,” He responds, biting his lip to keep himself from laughing.
“Yeah? I can definitely make your evening better than just swell.”
Ranboo gapes, dramatically playing into the bit. “Oh my God, really? How?”
“I don’t know, actually, I didn’t think- I didn’t think I’d get this far.” Tommy chortles, and Ranboo’s on the verge of keeling over.
They start hitting each other lightly, hushing their laughs in a fit of giggles and snorting like a bunch of girls gossiping in the school hallway. A “stop laughing, you sound like a fuckin’ idiot” here and a “please, please I’m gonna pee myself giggling” there. There’s practically tears in the corner of their eyes now, faces terrifyingly similar to a pair of tomatoes, yet the high they get from hearing one another’s glee is reason enough for their struggle in keeping it together.
“S- Sorry, I don’t think this is gonna work out then! I don’t like men who don’t have plans!”
“What! No, no, no! Don’t worry, I’m rich and hot and funny! That should be enough, please reconsider!” Tommy cries.
“You know what? You’ve charmed me.” Ranboo grins softly, thumb brushing the blond’s cheekbone. “A little charmer, you are.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Tommy scoffs, reddening more.
The music stops.
“There’s this bridge I’d love to take you to. I’d say you’re both pretty golden,” Ranboo hums, cupping the boy’s face and drawing him near. He breathes over his lips, nose touching his cheek. “Do you think I can steal you away for a while?”
“I think I’m fine with it being more than a while… if you catch my drift.”
The space closes.
Ranbalt
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09:54 PM from San Francisco, California
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