Work Text:
Tubbo has always known that he wouldn’t be marrying for love.
He’s a prince, for one, third in line for the throne for another, so it’s not like he would ever be getting the privilege of choosing even among other royals who he would marry. He’s too valuable to be allowed to choose among some pool of nobles and not valuable enough to be making any kind of decisions. He’s a pawn, a bargaining chip to be married off to the kingdom that makes the best offer.
Tubbo’s best bet would have been getting married off to the ender prince, at least he’s not a woman. A strange alien with a body that Tubbo would likely never understand and a kingdom full of strange creatures and customs, sure, but at the very least not a woman.
It’s not something that’s ever upset him, it’s just a part of life, and there’s nothing to be gained from getting upset about it.
As Tubbo’s father might say, either do something about it or get used to it.
In a conversation that is basically totally unrelated to the above discussion, Tubbo’s family is dead now. Poisoning. Tubbo is lucky that he’s a picky eater, otherwise he might have eaten more of the soup.
These two totally unrelated parts of Tubbo’s life have come together in this moment, when Tubbo is finally able to make decisions for himself. Like this one.
“What?” Tommy asks. He looks dumbfounded, practically totally lost, which ok, yeah, Tubbo can understand that, it’s not like he ever expected he would be able to do this either.
“I’m the king, so we can, no one can stop us,” Tubbo explains. His knee is starting to hurt from kneeling.
“Uh ph- no? Innit that- you’re gonna start a fucking coup, Tubbo, and like, I dunno if you just haven’t noticed, but I can’t make an heir,” Tommy says, leaning back in his armchair, away from Tubbo.
“We’ll just get a concubine, that’s what the ender guys do.”
Tommy’s face flushes more at that, past the point of adorably red it was from the wine and the heat of the fire and into goofy looking. That’s still pretty cute though. Tommy is always cute. Adorable. That’s not how Tubbo should think about his personal guard, but Tommy has never just been Tubbo’s guard.
“That’s- no! Nobody is gonna be ok with that!”
“I’d be ok with that.” the idea of sharing his bed with anyone but Tommy is just- kind of nasty, but Tubbo can deal with a concubine if it means having Tommy every other night.
“None of the citizens! Or the court! They’d all be fucking-” Tommy flails his hands to demonstrate the chaos they would surely fall into if Tubbo announced he would be marrying one of his knights.
“Ok,” Tubbo says with a shrug.
“Ok? They’re gonna fucking kill you!”
“How are they gonna kill me Tommy? They gonna tell their knights to storm my palace? You think they’re gonna listen?”
“Your whole family was literally just poisoned, you can’t not be worried about that.”
“I’m not.”
Tommy falls quiet, looking at Tubbo like he’s totally mad.
Tommy just keeps sitting there, not saying yes, so Tubbo figures he should explain further.
Also get off one knee, it’s really starting to fucking hurt, even the rich rug under him isn’t much help. He shifts onto both knees.
“Tommy, I don’t fucking care about the politics, ok, I’m done with the politics, I’m finally in a position where I can make- just one fucking choice just for me ok, let me make that choice.” he looks up at Tommy, trying to do his best puppy dog eyes. Tommy can nail the puppy dog eyes way more than Tubbo can, but Tommy specifically has never been able to resist Tubbo’s puppy dog eyes.
Tommy just looks at him with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.
Ok, ok, that’s fine, Tubbo had a speech planned, he got a little off track answering questions but he expected Tommy to be shocked, he can just get back on his speech.
He takes one of Tommy’s hands- limp, pale, a little cold and clammy- in both of his own and starts talking again.
“I know we always thought that- that this was gonna be impossible, but we have a shot now, Tommy, and I wanna take that shot with you, I don’t care what I have to do to make it work, I’ll do it”.
Tubbo thought up this speech- a while ago actually, before he became king, but he’s been saving it for this moment.
Tommy just stares at his hand in Tubbo’s.
“Tubbo, I like girls,” he says, voice flat.
“Well that’s a fucking relief, you can do the heir making part then,” Tubbo says. He would rather Tommy say yes before he starts planning the details, but that’s fine, it’s not like Tubbo waited either, he’s already got flowers picked out for the wedding. Kind of. He already told a florist to put together a lot of ideas. Tommy can pick whatever he likes best.
“ No, Tubbo, I don’t want to marry you, I don’t like you like- that .”
It’s Tubbo’s turn to be baffled and flabbergasted.
“You said you love me,” Tubbo reminds him.
He did! He’s said he loves Tubbo so many times, secreted away in the servants halls or kitchens, while helping Tubbo to catch his horse or sprawled in the gardens while Tubbo watches the bees buzz by or, as Tubbo holds close to his heart, when Tubbo has at times, shamefully broken down in tears, unable to do anything about his impending loveless marriage or get used to it with no one but his personal guard willing to listen to him bitch and whine.
“I do!” Tommy tells him, “I do love you-”
Tommy pulls his hand out of Tubbo’s and he feels like it’s his chest is being ripped open and he doesn’t understand why, but no, Tommy doesn’t pull away, instead he pushes his chair back and sinks down to his knees so he can be closer to Tubbo. He brushes the tears Tubbo hadn’t realized he’d started crying away and grips Tubbo by his shoulders.
“I love you, Tubbo, I love you so much. You’re my best friend, and that’s how I love you, not as a king or husband or anything, I love you, as yourself, and I want to keep being your best friend. I want to keep being your knight and your guard and I want to keep you safe and help you find a husband who will be able to love you like that. I mean, they’re probably not gonna be as great as me, but you know, we’ll do our best to find as close as we can get,” Tommy tells him, grinning at the end, throwing in a joke to lighten the mood no doubt.
The mood doesn’t matter to Tubbo.
Tommy loves him.
Tommy smiles at him, warm and soft.
“Ok,” Tubbo says.
“Ok,” Tommy says back, “ok, this has been way too sappy, I have to ruin the mood. Bitch. You’re a bitch, your highness.”
Tubbo snorts. Lets Tommy drag the mood back up, it helps to soothe the ache in his chest.
“Ok, ok, do you want more wine? We could open another bottle, we’re supposed to be celebrating,” Tubbo tells him.
“Right, coronation, celebrate, totally!” Tommy says, bouncing up and pulling Tubbo to his feet.
“Yeah, lemme grab the bottle,” Tubbo tells him.
“I can get it,” Tommy offers.
“Nah, nah, I feel stupid so I gotta do something with my hands,” Tubbo tells him.
“Well, I’m not gonna complain about you doing stuff for me,” Tommy says, falling back into his armchair.
Not his armchair, technically, Tubbo’s armchair that he’s graciously allowing Tommy to use while they celebrate him officially being king. Tubbo never really thought about things like that though, Tommy was always meant to be his partner and it feels weird to not call everything in the palace just as much Tommy’s as his.
Tubbo looks through the wine rack and picks out a bottle.
If Tubbo was doing this properly he’d use a distiller and let the wine breathe or something, but Tubbo isn’t interested in that stuff, he just pours himself and Tommy a glass and settles into his armchair.
“I am gonna wing-man the fuck out of you when you find someone you like though, I’m gonna make sure you have a great fucking husband,” Tommy says, gulping down a mouthful of wine. Which is not how you’re supposed to drink wine, but Tubbo doesn’t care, he just tops off Tommy’s glass before taking the time to swirl the wine in his own.
“I know you are, “ Tubbo tells him as he watches Tommy drink.
Tubbo has already drunk a bit, he helped Tommy drain the last bottle between dinner and now, but he doesn’t touch a drop from this bottle, he just lets Tommy drink.
Tommy has a headache.
That’s the first thing he notices, his headache, then his dry and tacky mouth and his dry eyes. It’s only after that that he recognizes the feeling of silk sheets under his face and a heavy down blanket on top of him.
Is he in… Tubbo’s bed?
He rubs crust off his eyes as he sits up, his stomach lurching uncomfortably.
Yes, he’s in Tubbo’s bed, in Tubbo’s room, alone.
Why is he in Tubbo’s bed?
He remembers- he remembers the coronation, he remembers days of public celebration and work and meetings and all the bullshit Tubbo has to do now that he’s king. He remembers Tubbo finally getting a night that he could take for himself, remembers jumping at the opportunity, he remembers dinner, Tubbo opening what would surely be the first of many bottles of wine that night and then…
Then he woke up.
In Tubbo’s bed.
Bad.
This is bad, it makes Tommy’s heart jump with- with-
Tubbo could have been poisoned, the wine could have been- the food- Tommy was being careless, and- they found the guy who poisoned the royal family last time but Tommy never really bought it and-
Tommy scrambles out of the bed, still in the same plainclothes he was wearing the night before. He stumbles into the hall, his head pounding, and rams right into Sam.
“ Fuck, Sam, Sam, where’s Tubbo? What happened?” if Sam wasn’t so found of Tommy he’s sure he would be totally fucked for- for all of this really, losing track of Tubbo and being so disrespectful and falling asleep in the king’s bed.
Sam doesn’t give him a long suffering sigh and tell him all of this though, instead he stands up straighter and looks a little lost for words.
“He’s um, he’s in his office talking to the wedding planner? Congratulations, by the way- about that.”
Sam’s speech is so stilted and awkward that Tommy can’t even fully process what he’s trying to say. It doesn't matter, wedding shit doesn’t matter, what matters is making sure Tubbo is ok. Tommy is running for Tubbo’s office before Sam can even get through his words.
“Tubbo!” Tommy shouts as he barges into Tubbo’s office.
The lady leaning over Tubbo’s desk jumps, Tubbo just calmly looks up at Tommy as if it’s any other day.
“Hey Tommy, so I’m thinking an autumn wedding? I know you like summer more, but I don’t want to either rush or wait a year so,” Tubbo shrugs and looks at Tommy like he should have any say in when Tubbo gets married.
Tommy glances around the room. There’s no threat, just Tubbo and some lady. His heart settles back down in his chest.
“Yeah, you love autumn so makes- makes sense,” Tommy offers.
Tubbo is fine. He’s fine and he just… let Tommy sleep in his bed last night. And now he’s planning a wedding.
“Is this about the uh, ender guy?” Tommy asks. Trying to catch up with whatever he missed when he was, what? Drunk? How much did he drink?
“Hm? oh I already sent him a letter about it, we’ll find another way to keep good relationships going,” Tubbo brushes him off.
“Who are you marrying then?” Tommy asks.
The look the wedding lady gives Tommy a weird look, Tubbo, if anything, seems to perk up.
“Man you really went wild with the wine last night,” Tubbo says before turning to the wedding lady, “just leave all this, I’ll have Tommy look at it.”
“Ok, yeah, I’ll be back in a couple hours to catch up with you?” she asks.
“Yep, exactly,” Tubbo tells her.
She leaves a ton of papers and binders and shit on the desk as she steps out, nodding and smiling at Tommy as she walks past.
“Congratulations,” she murmurs as she passes.
“Why do people keep saying that?” Tommy asks as the door shuts.
“People do tend to say that when you’ve just gotten engaged, ‘specially to a king,” Tubbo explains.
“ Yeah but I’m not engaged,” Tommy tells him.
“We literally got engaged just last night. I really shouldn’t have let you drink all that wine huh?” Tubbo asks.
“We got engaged,” Tommy repeats.
“Yep,” Tubbo says.
“We can’t be engaged, I’m- what about- what about heirs and bloodline shit?” What about the fact that I’m not fucking gay? Tommy doesn’t ask that, because Tommy isn’t an idiot and he knows sexuality is a whole thing with Tubbo, more so than others with the expectation of a political marriage having always been on his shoulders. Tommy has always been the person who he leans on when that shit would get bad, and while Tommy doesn’t have a lot of social tact, he knows better than to bring that up.
Tubbo raises a hand to stop Tommy’s questions.
“We talked about all this already, don’t worry, I’ve got it all worked out, plus I’ve already told people, so it’s not like we can back out now,” Tubbo says, a practically gleeful tone in his voice.
There’s no way to back out now.
Tubbo already told people.
They’re fucking engaged and it’s already announced and Tommy can’t back out and he doesn’t even remember saying yes, why the fuck did he say yes?
Tommy feels sick.
“You look like you’re gonna pass out, just come here,” Tubbo waves him over and Tommy comes, of course he comes, Tubbo is his king and he’s Tubbo’s knight.
Is that even true anymore?
He collapses in the chair that Tubbo waves him to, it’s a chair next to him, behind the desk, like they’re equals. He thinks his vision is tunneling.
“What are we doing?” Tommy asks, mostly himself.
“Planning a wedding, I mean, a lot of it is already pre-planned cause of tradition stuff, but we’ve got some flexibility with some stuff. Here, she brought some flower ideas! You can take a look, you know, pick what you like.” Tubbo pushes a binder towards him, one full of pictures of floral sprays in reds, whites and yellows. Tommy loves red and white, and yellow is a kingdom color.
“Honestly I’m pretty cool with whatever you want so just pick what you like,” Tubbo tells him.
“We’re getting married,” Tommy repeats.
“Yeah! I know we didn’t think this would ever work out but you know, I’m king, so I can do what I want,” Tubbo says.
“Yeah, you, uh, you can do what you want, no one can stop you,” Tommy feels outside his body, like he’s watching himself flip through this stupid wedding binder from the other side of the room. No, not the other side of the room, in his usual spot, just to the right of and behind Tubbo, where a knight is supposed to stand.
“Exactly, and I want to marry you,” Tubbo says, pushing more wedding-related shit towards Tommy and turning to his real work.
Tommy stares at it, his vision too blurry to read any of it, his head pounding, his stomach churning.
“Hey,” Tommy looks up at Tubbo. He’s smiling at him, soft and warm, familiar from all of the times that Tommy gave him chances to make mischief and just- be himself. Tubbo doesn’t smile a lot, but when Tommy manages to pry one out of him he usually tries to commit it to memory.
“I love you,” Tubbo says. He’s said it a billion times before, soft and caring, chipper and casual, joking and sarcastic. Tommy has always said it back, always meant it, of course, but- not like this, never like this.
Did Tubbo always mean it like this?
Did he think Tommy met it like this?
Tommy’s stomach jerks again.
He leans over the arm of the fancy chair Tubbo put him in and pukes all over the fine, shining hardwood floor.