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Tommy’s leaning heavily into Ranboo’s side as Ranboo strokes his hair consolingly. If Tommy closes his eyes and imagines a certain someone else, it almost feels okay.
The facade is shattered seconds later when Ranboo’s undeniably American voice surrounds him, asking if he wants anything to drink.
“Anything that will make me forget the past month,” Tommy declares as he draws his knees into his chest.
“A water it is,” Ranboo decides as he disentangles himself from Tommy’s grabby hands. Tommy pouts over the lack of alcohol, but he knows he’s probably dehydrated from the countless sobbing sessions he’s had.
Tommy realizes he hasn’t moved in the few minutes it takes Ranboo to scrounge around in his kitchen for a glass, because Ranboo is pressing the drink into his hand before he knows it.
“I don’t get how you live like this, Tom,” Ranboo comments as he glances around at Tommy’s unmade bed and haphazard streaming setup.
“Didn’t usually stay here,” Tommy mumbles before he drowns out the reason why with a gulp that nearly goes down the wrong way.
Tommy splutters for a second, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand roughly, and hands the glass back to Ranboo.
“You barely drank any,” Ranboo counters, but Tommy won’t take the glass back. Even the water hitting his stomach feels like a lead weight.
Tommy’s phone lights up with a Twitter notification, and he isn’t fast enough to hide it from Ranboo’s perceptive gaze.
“Why do you have Shelby’s notifications on?” Ranboo presses as he snatches the phone from Tommy’s grasp. Tommy tries to lean up and get it back, but Ranboo’s extra height makes it an easy game of keep-away.
Shelby’s tweet is opened on Tommy’s screen, and Tommy lets himself linger on Wilbur and the cat he’s holding for only a moment.
“You know why,” Tommy shoots back before he curls back in on himself. Ranboo’s face darkens with recognition, and he slips the phone in his pocket.
“That’s mine!” Tommy protests, but Ranboo just makes him take the glass again and have another drink. Tommy kind of hates how good Ranboo is good at mothering. It’s not like he can tell his real mum about this. She wouldn’t really get it, despite being the loveliest woman in all the United Kingdom.
“You have to stop thinking about him,” Ranboo lectures, and Tommy wishes the words didn’t feel like they were tearing through his heart.
“So he gets to fuckin’ kiss me before he fucks off to America and then act all lovey-dovey with his girlfriend then?” Tommy explodes. Ranboo looks a bit surprised at Tommy’s outburst, but he schools his face quickly back into neutrality.
-
It had been awful. Tommy had been over at Wilbur’s like he was most nights. They had carved out a little piece of Brighton for themselves, and Tommy couldn’t’ve been happier. If only he knew what was to come.
“Hey, Toms, I need to be honest about why I’m really going to America,” Wilbur had chosen his words carefully.
“For Sneeg’s wedding?” Tommy had replied, confused. Wilbur had a pained grimace on his face, hand at his temple.
“Not just that,” Wilbur admitted, and Tommy flinched at the honesty in his tone.
“You’re going to see her, aren’t you?” Tommy’s voice cold as ice. Wilbur scooted closer to Tommy on the sofa, but Tommy hadn’t let him touch him.
“Her name is Shelby,” Wilbur replied patiently, and Tommy wanted the floor to swallow him whole.
“I know what her name is,” Tommy shot back petulantly, and he regretted it immediately. He wasn’t going to convince Wilbur to stay by acting like a child.
“She’s my girlfriend, Tommy,” Wilbur pressed on, and Tommy dug his fingers into his arms, so he wouldn’t say something he regretted.
“Then… what have we been doing?” Tommy’s voice was nearly a whisper, and Wilbur had to inch closer to hear him.
“Making a mistake,” Wilbur admitted, and the words shot through Tommy like a bullet.
“Fuck you, Will, you don’t get to keep me like some rent boy ‘cause you’re too much of a pussy to admit you want me!” Tommy stood up in fury. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He wanted Wilbur.
What do you do when the person who usually consoles you is the one breaking your heart?
“No one would ever accept us,” Wilbur said meekly, miserably. Tommy wanted nothing less than to hear his flimsy excuses.
“You used to say that didn’t matter,” Tommy said. He avoided Wilbur’s searching gaze and only just allowed himself to be pulled back onto the sofa.
“I know, but people are going to start asking questions,” Wilbur explained, and Tommy hated this version of Wilbur. The pedantic older brother figure who was more like his PR agent than his boyfriend.
Not that Wilbur was ever his boyfriend.
“Then let them,” Tommy hissed back and shoved Wilbur’s hand off his arm. Wilbur’s touch felt like fire, stoking anger instead of passion.
“I can’t, and you know it,” Wilbur replied, defeated.
“You’re not the man I thought you were. The Wilbur I know would stay,” Tommy said coolly. He went to get up once more, but Wilbur tugged him close.
Lips were pressed to his in desperation, and it felt so much like home, Tommy let himself fall into it. Wilbur’s arms encircled him, and the embrace felt like Tommy was sending Wilbur off to war.
Tommy pulled away first, lips reddened from the force of the kiss. He felt weak for allowing it in the first place.
“Hope America is worth it,” Tommy spit as he shook himself free from Wilbur’s grasp.
Wilbur’s quiet “It won’t be” was the last thing he heard as the flat door clicked shut.
-
“I’m not saying Wilbur didn’t fuck up,” Ranboo says carefully, and Tommy knows he’s serious when he swears. It’s weirdly reassuring.
“I just think it does no one any good to keep dwelling,” Ranboo continues, and Tommy knows he’s right. Ranboo’s usually right.
“I just – why couldn’t it be me?” Tommy asks in a small voice. Ranboo looks at him pityingly and wraps his stupidly long arm around him again.
“I know the feeling all too well,” Ranboo replies, and Tommy lets himself be enveloped by Ranboo’s clean linen scent, a sharp contrast to Wilbur’s woodsy cologne.
“Oh, fuck, I didn’t even think about that,” Tommy whispers, and Tommy can see his own pain reflected in Ranboo’s eyes.
“Toby’s happy,” Ranboo forces a smile, and Tommy finds himself a bit self-absorbed once he thinks about it.
“Here I am wallowin’, and you’re going through the same thing,” Tommy sits up, but Ranboo keeps him pressed into his side.
“I could’ve told you months ago Tubbo would’ve found someone else,” Ranboo shakes his head ruefully and Tommy sort of wants to kiss him.
The thought barrels into Tommy like a speeding freight train, and he blinks rapidly at the onslaught of emotion.
Where the fuck did that come from? Sure, Ranboo’s always jokingly been the object of his affections, but it was a joke. Objectively, Ranboo is very attractive. Subjectively, Tommy thinks he might be a little fucked.
“Are you sure we can’t break out anything harder?” Tommy pleads, hoping his baby blues will get what he wants for the millionth time.
Ranboo glances at the time displayed on Tommy’s monitor, looks back down at the boy nestled in his arms, and looks back at the wall.
“If we wait another 5 minutes, it’ll be 5 o’clock in Germany,” Ranboo remarks slyly and Tommy grins.
Ranboo starts singing under his breath, and Tommy has to ask him what he’s singing as they make their way into the kitchen.
“Jimmy Buffett, don’t you know it?” Ranboo asks, scrunching up his nose. Tommy feels his stomach swoop as he realizes how adorable Ranboo looks.
“Jimmy who?” Tommy asks as he stretches on his tiptoes to swipe the half-empty bottle of vodka off the top of his fridge.
“Jimmy Buffett, Margaritaville? The song is It’s Five O’Clock Somewhere,” Ranboo continues, and Tommy chalks it up to some horrible American thing.
“It’s a good song,” Ranboo protests as he pulls up Spotify on his phone to prove a point. The guitar spills out of the speaker and Tommy has to note it has a certain appeal.
“Pour me something tall and strong, make it a hurricane before I go insane,” Ranboo sings a little louder now as Tommy grabs two bottles of Coke.
“Do vodka Cokes work?” Tommy snorts and Ranboo nods as he spins around the kitchen to the rest of the song.
Tommy pours what really is more like a double into their glasses and tops it off with fizzy drink. He watches the bubbles fizz for a few seconds before passing one off to Ranboo.
Ranboo takes a sip and chokes slightly, “I guess I did ask for something strong.”
Tommy knocks back a drink himself and shrugs, “Figured we needed it.”
The alcohol burrows itself into Tommy’s mind, smoothing out the jagged edges. The thought of Wilbur’s frantic kiss the night before he left for the airport starts to fade away.
“Wanna watch Heartstopper?” Tommy asks after another pull of his cocktail. Ranboo looks at him over the rim of his glass and nods.
“You suggestin’ this ‘cause I’m gay?” Ranboo exclaims in mock outrage. Tommy slugs him in the shoulder with his free hand.
“Asshole, my first kiss was literally with Freddie,” Tommy mutters and Ranboo grins, self-satisfied.
Ranboo situates himself awkwardly on the bunk bed, folding his legs uncomfortably against him. Tommy fiddles with his setup as he pulls up Netflix.
When Tommy turns around to see how Ranboo has pretzeled, he sets their drinks down on his desk and pushes at Ranboo’s legs.
“Lemme sit in your lap,” Tommy prods as he clambers over to slot himself between Ranboo’s legs. He’s just short enough that he fits comfortably against Ranboo’s chest.
Ranboo glances at him curiously, but Tommy busies himself grabbing their drinks again. He wants to pretend he just needs more comfort, but he’s not so sure if that’s what it is anymore.
The opening credits play with the characteristic animated leaves sweeping across the screen. Tommy feels like his stomach is mimicking the same patterns.
They watch the episode in relative silence, comments interspersed with sips of their drinks. Before long, both their glasses are drained and Tommy’s turned to tuck his face into Ranboo’s neck.
Tommy doesn’t realize what he’s doing until Ranboo shivers and Tommy tucks himself a little closer to see if it happens again.
“Tommy,” Ranboo sounds strained, and Tommy leans back to catch his eye.
“What, Ranboob?” Tommy smirks, hand trailing up Ranboo’s thigh.
“You know what,” Ranboo replies tightly, and Tommy feels flushed knowing he’s desirable to someone else.
Tommy hopes he hasn’t horribly misread the situation when he tilts his face up to Ranboo’s. He’s rewarded when Ranboo’s lips meet his, and it’s like he can feel the void inside him filling up.
Unbeknownst to Tommy and Ranboo, Charlie and Nick are also sharing their first kiss.
It feels like fate. It feels like hope.
It feels like something worth staying for.