Work Text:
Ranboo hummed to himself, hands curled together in a gesture he vaguely knew was self-soothing as he stepped through the bookshop doors. Usually, he headed here early Saturday morning, checking out any new arrivals and spending a relaxed morning among the smell of old books. Today, those plans had been interrupted: Tommy and Tubbo had demanded he come with them to some semi-legal flea market set up by some guy on his lawn, and then they'd gotten in a fight with the organizer (that they knew? maybe? Tommy didn't usually flirt that brazenly with strangers) and almost had the cops called on them. Which was fun! But it had cut into his bookshop time and also definitely left him in need of a calming afternoon spent browsing.
“Busy day?” Eret asked, and Ranboo bobbed his head in a vaguely agreeing manner before he stepped into the stacks. He could probably talk to strangers again today but. hhh. He'd need some Book Time first.
Some indeterminate time later, Ranboo was startled out of his skimming through a pretty okay tiktok romantasy by his shoulder being poked. He jumped, only partially managing to turn it into a turn and stumbling slightly against a bookshelf. The short guy in front of him laughed for a second, and Ranboo felt his shoulders start to creep up before the stranger started talking.
“Ah, sorry mate, thought you heard me.” Oh wait that was a familiar voice. “I thought - You're Ranboo, right? One of the high school teachers?”
“Yeah?” Ranboo said, somewhat helplessly. Definitely someone familiar. From work. But not that familiar, because Ranboo had put effort into remembering the names of all his close colleagues. Oh god, was this a parent? Was he about to get Yelled At? On his Day Off?
“Oh, good that I was right, huh. Philza, with the younger kids,” he introduced himself and Oh! Now Ranboo recognised him! He was the guy making silly faces at the staff meetings, whenever their boss said something particularly far-fetched. That guy. Ranboo’s shoulders relaxed a fraction.
“Hi,” and then because small talk was clearly the point of this interaction, “do you come to the bookstore often?”
“Every Saturday afternoon, more or less. Me and Eret go way back,” Philza responded. “I don't think I've seen you here before though.”
Oh! That was exciting. Ranboo didn't know anyone else who knew this place existed.
“I'm usually here in the morning,” he answered. “I couldn't come this morning because, ummm, I'd been invited out with some friends.” Maybe he wouldn't mention the close legal call to someone who knew his boss. Not that Philza seemed to respect the man that much, but! Techno was always on him about operational security.
“Cool, cool. Well, I don't wanna inconvenience you, just saying hi,” Philza said with a little wave. That was kind of fun. Ranboo surprised himself with not wanting to end the conversation quite yet - Philza had always seemed interesting, in that far-off kind of way teachers he didn’t know often were, and after some Book Time Ranboo was craving. Well. A normal social interaction. He loved Tubbo and Tommy but they could be a lot.
“No worries, I wasn't reading anything crucial,” they joked cautiously, holding up their book. “Just keeping up with what my students are talking about. Booktook has questionable taste sometimes, you know?”
Philza laughed.
“I'll take your word for it, mate. Bit above my kids’ reading level for now,” he said.
“What level do you have again?” Ranboo asked, then realized it might be rude of him not to already know. “Sorry, sorry, it's just I only see you at the big meetings when we're all there, and you sit with the elementary school and middle school teachers?”
“No worries,” Philza said, unperturbed. Alright, that was good. “I got first to third grade, little bit of everything.”
“Neat! I got English and Latin, myself,” Ranboo replied.
“Cool, cool,” Philza responded. “So what's your favorite assigned reading, then?”
Ranboo hummed, thinking it over.
“Clockwork Orange, probably,” he said, pleased when Philza laughed.
“Oh, that's fucked up of you, fantastic choice.” Philza seemed like a guy who was easy to make laugh. Ranboo liked chatting to him. They kept talking about their various favorite books for work, and the difficulties of teaching kids to understand said books. Ranboo was a little surprised at Philza's proficiency, and then immediately felt bad for it. Young kids were hard to teach, and he was sure Philza was a good pedagogue. Finally, Philza stretched and checked his phone, visibly wincing at the time.
“Sorry to cut this short, I gotta head out,” he said apologetically, like Ranboo hadn't been the one to keep him. He said as much, and Philza shook his head with a laugh.
“Nah mate, I've been meaning to chat with you, sorry for just pouncing on you like that.” He quieted, clearing thinking, and Ranboo watched him attentively for a few moments before he spoke back up. “No pressure, obviously, but I had a good chat. Would you wanna go out for dinner with me? tomorrow, maybe?”
Ranboo blinked. Blinked again. Ran the last couple of minutes of conversation back, trying to see if he'd missed any obvious romantic cues.
“Like… as a date?” he asked, because his therapist kept reminding him of the importance of asking clarifying questions. Philza bit his lip.
“I mean. If you want it to be?” He looked vaguely hopeful.
“I have a husband,” Ranboo said, pretty much on autopilot. Then his brain caught up with him. Wait, he was being asked out? Not Techno? That never happened.
“Oup, my bad. Shoulda asked. Though he's welcome to join,” Philza responded, tone casual. Ranboo made some sort of high-pitched noise at this new turn in conversation.
“As friends?” he asked because again. Clarifying. Philza shrugged.
“Sure. What do you say? Tomorrow night?”
Ranboo was Not Prepared.
“I'll? Ask?” he replied, and Philza nodded. He then proceeded to grab his bag and do something - Ranboo was a little too busy ordering his thoughts to fully watch him, only just starting to fumble for his phone when Philza held out a piece of paper to him. On it was a number, Philza’s names, and a smiley face.
“Text when you decide, yeah? No pressure. See you around!” Philza grinned, giving him a lazy salute before leaving Ranboo standing alone. With a phone number. For a date(?). He needed to call Techno.
Techno, predictably, laughed at him. Ranboo could hear him gasping for breath in his headphones as he hurried home, walking along the empty back streets towards their apartment.
“I can't believe I was called upon to defend your virtue when I wasn't even there,” he finally gasped out before returning to laughing. Ranboo huffed, pouting even though he knew Techno couldn't see.
“I was surprised, okay!”
“Oh, beautiful stranger, come no closer - I'm a wedded man,” Techno said, voice high and shrill before going back to his regular register, delight still clear in his voice. “Oooh God, that's so funny. I'm so proud of you, Ranboo, you're having a true Technoblade Experience here.”
That was true - usually it was Techno that got unsolicited flirtation aimed at him. Ranboo understood why: his husband was very cool and funny and pretty. Ranboo, however, was Not Used To It. And Philza had been so chill about it, too, and Ranboo did think he was honest when he said he wanted to be friends. So.
“Should we go?” he asked, hurrying to clarify. “Like, in a friendly way. He's nice, and my colleague, so I don't think he wants it to get weird. Right?”
“Listen man, I have no idea,” Techno replied. “Casual offers of dates? Never heard of her. He's speaking a foreign language.”
That was also true. Ranboo and Techno had only gotten together after a long friendship in college and an even longer bout as roommates after college. Neither of them really did the. Um. Dating Thing. Maybe it would be weird to go. But Ranboo did sort of wanna hang out more with Philza. He'd had interesting opinions on child language development, and also he was funny.
“I wanna go,” he said, fumbling for his keys and entering their stairwell. “As friends. Of course.” Techno made a neutral sort of noise over the phone.
“I got a raid planned for tomorrow night,” he said, dragging the words out. “I dunno…”
“Ah shoot,” Ranboo said. Right. That was this Sunday. “Oh well, I'll text him that we can't, then.” Techno had every other weekend off, and on those Sundays, he had a long-standing appointment with some old friends and his computer screen. Oh well, there were other days. Ranboo took a break from the conversation to hurry up the stairs, Techno silent in his ears. It was only a minute before he was wrestling with the door to their apartment, opening the door only a crack to stop Steve from trying to escape.
“Home!” he said before ending the call, hearing his voice doubled for a moment from the living room. He closed the door and spent a few seconds wrestling himself out from his shoes and avoiding getting licked in the face by Steve, which proved as difficult as always until a short whistle had Steve sat down.
“Welcome home,” Techno said, coming up to pet Steve's head as Ranboo finished awkwardly balancing on one leg to wrestle off his shoes. He held out a hand, and Ranboo bapped it briefly with the back of his own hand in greeting. “Anyway, you should go have dinner with your admirer anyway.”
Ranboo had a moment before he remembered their earlier conversation.
“Oh! You think?” he answered as he began getting out of his coat and fiddling with his tie. Techno shrugged.
“If you wanna. I know your therapist has been on you about, uh… Finding new friends, or whatever.”
Ranboo sighed theatrically.
“But it's haaaard,” he whined, only a bit overdone. It was hard.
“Well, this guy seems to be easy,” Techno said, then coughed. “Sorry. Easy to be friends with, that sounded wrong.”
“That is going on the callout doc,” Ranboo said solemnly. “Twitter is going to have a field day with this one.”
“I can't believe I've been betrayed by my closest confidant,” Techno replied, equally deadpan. “The doom of my clout notwithstanding, do you still wanna go?”
“…Yeah,” Ranboo admitted after a moment. “I'm curious.”
“Then go,” Techno stressed, and Ranboo let out a long sigh.
“Fine, fine, I'll do the thing.” He smiled as Techno cheered. “Thanks.”
“No problem, no problem,” Techno said, waving it off. “You text him. Still up for breakfast hash for dinner?”
“Please,” Ranboo said distractedly, grabbing his phone and typing in the number that had been burning a hole in his pocket the whole walk home.
My husband can't come, but I'd like to. As friends, though.
Ranboo
Sure m8. Indian ok? 18?
Yeah!
He put away the phone while he waited for Philza to text the address, following Techno into the kitchen where he was chopping up boiled potatoes to go in the hash. Ranboo perched on a kitchen chair, staying out of his way.
“Texted him.”
“Woo,” Techno said, focused on his potatoes. “If he does turn out creepy, I promise I'll avenge you.”
“Thanks,” Ranboo nodded seriously. “I expect you'll break at least five federal laws in my honor.”
“I'll find a way to do tax fraud about it, I promise.”
Ranboo’s phone dinged, and he fished it out to see that Philza had sent him an address. He plugged it into his map app and made a happy noise - it was just by the bookstore, only a street away.
“He sent the location, it looks good.”
“Pog,” Techno said, leaning over to see the screen of Ranboo’s phone as Ranboo presented it to him. “I'm sure you can chat about... teacher things? What did he teach again?”
“He's an elementary teacher, it's really interesting actually,” Ranboo replied, launching into a retelling of their conversation as Techno cooked. He was nervous, but it'd be okay. He could be spontaneous. The next evening, Ranboo was feeling significantly less calm about being spontaneous. He’d agonized between two collared shirts for twenty solid minutes and now he was picking at the cuff of the star-studded black shirt he’d chosen, waiting outside the restaurant. Not because Philza was late! Ranboo was just, a few minutes early. Fifteen, to be precise. He unbuttoned and buttoned his cuffs again nervously. This was fine. He could always leave if he wanted, and Philza had seemed chill about this not being romantic.
…For now. He and Techno had talked about dating others - only theoretically, so far, but they were both in agreement that it could be interesting. So maybe he’d see how that went. Ranboo was distracted from his thoughts by movement by the street: Philza, waving at him as he half-jogged up to him.
“Hey mate! Sorry, am I late?” he grinned, and Ranboo immediately felt a little calmer. Philza didn’t seem to worry overmuch about anything.
“Nope! I’m early,” he replied. “Let’s go in?”
“Yeah! There’s no reservations to wait on, they usually have space.” Philza led the way into the restaurant, a cozy place with warm lights and a lovely burgundy color on the walls. He walked up to the cashier, chatting casually as she handed him two menus. Ranboo looked around the room. There were a couple of other groups, some larger, some smaller, some clearly couples out for a sunday dinner. There was an empty table in a corner by the window, though, and when Philza turned back to him with the menus in hand he gestured towards it. Philza nodded, and they made their way over.
Once settled, Philza handed him the menu and poured a glass of water for them both.
“You come here a lot?” Ranboo asked, remembering the prompting questions he’d gone over with Techno. Philza nodded.
“I’m here like, every other week or so. Their biryani is killer, and I love a good curry.” He laughed to himself, a little self-depreciatingly. “One thing I miss from home, definitely the curry.”
Ranboo laughed politely, glancing over the menu. Oh, they had allergy information, that was good, that was good.
“Got any plans to inflict on your students this week?” Philza asked, and oh! right. Conversation.
“Oh, yeah, a few. I’m making them pick a character from the novel we’re reading and making them write a page from their perspective.”
Philza nodded.
“And you’re reading…”
“Moby Dick,” Ranboo said, satisfied when that got a laugh out of Philza.
“Oh, how many will pick the whale, you think?”
“At least five,” Ranboo said decisively. “But I’ll only grade it if they explain why the whale is thinking in English.”
Another laugh. Ranboo was winning.
“So, um, what are your plans?”
They kept chatting about work (Philza quoted some really fascinating studies on language development and activity that Ranboo jotted down on his phone for later) until it was time to order, after which they kept going. Only when the food arrived (Shrimp Biryani for Philza, Palak Paneer for Ranboo) did the conversation lull. Ranboo found out that Philza had been right about the quality of the place and was chasing the last little bits of rice around his plate when Philza spoke up again. Ranboo, distracted, only caught part of what he said.
“-band of yours couldn’t make it?”
That was definitely a question. Ranboo blinked at him, eyes wide.
“My who?” he asked, wincing at how startled he sounded. “Sorry, what did you say?”
Philza gave him an amused look.
“Your husband?” he repeated patiently.
“Oh!” Ranboo said. “Right. My husband. Yeah.”
And now he’d forgotten what Philza’s question was.
“Sorry, can you repeat the question?” he asked, a little embarrassed. Philza took it in stride, though.
“So that husband of yours couldn’t make it?” He said, a little more slowly but still clearly curious. “Sunday night plans?”
“Yeah!” Ranboo said, always happy to talk about Techno. “He’s got this raid in warcraft with some old buddies from school, they always play Sunday night. He wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Philza hummed.
“But you came anyway?”
“My therapist says I should be, uh, more spontaneous,” he said, realizing after a moment that Philza might be Weird about that. He watched him anxiously, but Philza just nodded.
“Fair, fair. Well, I had a great time. If you want to do this again some other Sunday while he’s busy gaming, just text, yeah?”
Recognising the cue, Ranboo stood at the same time as Philza, looking mournfully down at the last grain of rice on his plate. They paid separately and stepped outside, the fall night cool and brisk. Philza paused, looking up at Ranboo thoughtfully.
“About that, asking you for a date… Didn’t realize you were, uh, married. On account of the lack of a wedding ring.” he glanced down at Ranboo’s uncovered and, indeed, ringless hand. “What’s that about?”
Ranboo startled, looking down at his own hand for a moment.
“Oh! Yeah, none of us are really, uh, traditional. Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away from Philza. “It’s cool, though.”
Philza nodded thoughtfully.
“You know, you wouldn’t have needed to… mention him. I would have accepted a no anyway,” he said, and Ranboo shrugged.
“Ahaha, yeah, I mean, you never know, right?” he said. “Anyway, this was nice, you’re right.” He glanced down at his phone. “Maybe, we can do it again in two weeks?”
“Uh huh,” Philza said, still sounding very thoughtful. “Maybe on Saturday? So I can meet your, ah, husband? He’s still invited, of course.”
Ranboo fumbled out his phone, wincing as he checked their schedule.
“Uh, we have plans. We’re babysitting our friend’s, uh, houseplants.” Niki was out visiting her long-distance girlfriend and had left very exacting care instructions for the miniature jungle in her home.
“Is that so,” Philza said, sounding amused. “Well, Sunday it is, then. And of course, it’s not a date.”
Ranboo nodded.
“Of course.”
“Alright then,” Philza said. “It’s a not-date. See you at work, maybe?” He stepped back a little, a shuffle-shuffle-shuffle like he was trying to stay warm. Ranboo nodded, waving and stepping back himself.
“Yeah! See you around, Philza!”
“See you, Ranboo, take care.” A pause. “And say hi to your, uh, husband, from me.”
“Will do!”
Ranboo arrived home an hour or so before Techno’s raid finished, and when Techno came out of his room Ranboo had showered, changed, and was cuddled up on the couch with Steve.
“Good date?” Techno asked.
“Not a date!” Ranboo argued back. “But it was good. He asked about you a lot.”
“Oh?” Techno replied, sitting down on the end of the couch. Ranboo immediately settled his feet in his lap, and Techno only grumbled theatrically.
“Yeah! He, uh, wondered what you were up to. And we talked about school a lot, so it was nice.”
“Glad you had a good time,” Techno said warmly, squeezing Ranboo’s ankle.
“We’re having dinner next Sunday you’re raiding too,” Rambo reported, anxiety rearing up as he said it. “If that’s okay?”
“Yyyyeaaah, Sounds pog,” Techno said. “Also you can do whatever you want.” Ranboo nodded anxiously. He could. He could do that. It reminded him of something else that had come up during the evening, though.
“He did say -” he paused, trying to remember Philza’s exact words. “That, umm, I didn’t need to bring you up, he would have listened if I said no anyway.” He paused. “Do you think that… meant anything?”
Techno shrugged.
“I dunno, man. I think he’s just being cool, you know? Like you don’t need an excuse.” He paused. “Do you want an excuse? To not go? Because I can do that.”
“No!” Ranboo exclaimed. “Nononono. It was fun. I liked it. I like… him?” He added after a moment, ears heating a little.
“Pog.”
“Yeah.”
“So, you got lunch prepped for tomorrow?”
“Oh no.”
-
Him and Philza had dinner again the next Sunday, and the Sunday after that. Ranboo enjoyed it immensely. They chatted about school and about teaching and about students, but where those conversations usually turned to complaints with Ranboo’s other coworkers he always came away from his talks with Philza feeling inspired. Philza complimented his work and laughed at his jokes.
He did ask about Techno, now and then - what he did, what he looked like. Ranboo told him that Techno was a firefighter, although when Philza asked him what station he works at Ranboo had totally forgotten. Trying to describe Techno wasn’t an easy task either - Ranboo just wasn’t a very visual person, okay? And of course Techno hated getting pictures taken just about as much as Ranboo hated unplanned physical contact, and all Ranboo had were some blurry, long-distance pictures of him playing with Steve.
They had a good time, and Ranboo thought more and more about what Techno and he spoke of. He’d been pretty sure he wouldn’t mind dating more than one person, although he always thought it’d be Techno finding someone to go out with. But Philza was… nice. And the more they talked, the more it felt like him and Techno would get along: Their sense of humor was similar, snappy and sarcastic, and he was pretty sure Philza mentioned the same kind of video games Techno could rant about for hours.
Techno’s Sundays were holy, though, so when Philza asked if Ranboo wanted to come over instead of going out, next Sunday, Philza said yes without checking whether Techno would like to come. (he asked later, of course, and got exactly the answer he’d predicted. Score for Ranboo.) He came over a little earlier than usual. He was anxious, as expected, and it wasn’t even that he was worried he was about to get kidnapped or anything: Philza was nice, and a teacher besides that. At his school. They were colleagues, this wasn't that weird. Besides, he'd texted Techno the address. Just in case.
No, it was more that - Ranboo hadn't really made a new friend in a few years, and he really didn’t want to blow this by like… accidentally insulting a rug that Philza’s dead grandmother had made. Or something. Or maybe he’d forget to take off his shoes and scuff Philza’s floors. Or maybe he’d clog the sink. Or–
Or maybe! Everything would be fine! It would be fine. That's what he told himself as he walked the last block to Philza's apartment, and reminded himself when he rang the bell and waited for Philza to respond.
“Hello!” Philza’s voice rang tinny from the tinny speakers. “Welcome up, mate, it's the fifth floor. Elevator is slow but it does work.”
With that, the door clicked open, and Ranboo hurried inside. The fifth floor was also the top floor, and Ranboo found out the elevator was indeed as slow as Philza had promised. It felt like a solid five minutes before it dinged and Ranboo could step out into a small hall. One of the doors was open, and a second later Philza poked his head out, grinning.
“Over here, mate! Glad you made it.”
Ranboo hurried closer, holding the bottle of wine the woman at the wine store had recommended in front of him like a shield. He’d debated on bringing a bouquet, but then realized he had forgotten if Philza was allergic or not. He’d already bought the bouquet then, of course, and it was in a vase next to Techno’s monitor so that he could make sure Steve didn’t try to eat it.
“Thank you for having me, your home is lovely,” he greeted Philza, pressing the bottle into his hands. Philza grinned.
“Aww, mate, you shouldn’t have! I’ll bring it to the fridge. Shoes to your left, hooks are behind the door there for your coat.” Philza bustled off into the apartment, leaving Ranboo to wrangle himself out of his boots and coat in peace. Philza’s apartment was pretty similar in layout to his own: a narrow hallway, leading into a living room on one side, an open kitchen on the other, and with a few closed doors in the back where there were probably the bathroom and bedroom. Ranboo did some light exploring, locating the bathroom before stepping into the kitchen where Philza was peeking into the oven, squinting through the steam.
“I remembered right that you liked white fish, right?” he asked, standing straight. “I’ve got some paneer in the fridge, but I’m definitely more comfortable with the fish,” he laughed. Ranboo nodded, anxiety dissipating rapidly. Philza remembered his food preferences. He’d made sure there would be something for him to eat.
“White fish is good,” he assured. Philza let out a relieved sigh.
“Oh, that’s a relief. Alright, fish needs a few more minutes, the mash and the spinach is on the table already, wine in the fridge…” he tapped the steps off on his fingers before sighing. “Yeah, that’s all. Sorry, mate, I don’t entertain often.”
Ranboo could relate.
“I think the last time I had someone over was a Jehovah's witness,” he said, because it seemed like the right time for an anecdote. “They left pretty fast when they realized I was, uh, not straight, but oh boy were those a stressful few minutes. I was googling if they were allowed to have coffee or not before I realized I don’t even have coffee at home.”
Philza laughed, and the conversation kept wandering as they sat down at the tiny table squished up against the kitchen windows for their meal. Ranboo was extremely relieved to have picked a white wine when Philza brought out the fish, drenched in a buttery sauce with lemons and pepper stuffed into them. The mash was good, although not as good as Techno’s, and Ranboo could truthfully tell Philza that his creamed spinach was the best one he’d ever tasted. The wine was light and cut through the richness of the fish in an extremely pleasant way, and Ranboo got to tell Philza about the time he’d been given a wine-tasting as a birthday present and was now always saddled with picking out wines for his friends and family.
“Oh, that reminds me of this friend of mine,” Philza said, leaning back. Ranboo did the same - he was feeling pleasantly full, and still had half a glass of wine left to sip on as Philza continued his story. “So this guy, his name’s Quackity, always ends up in the weirdest situations, right? So he gets gifted this poledancing lesson for his birthday, kind of as a joke and kind of because he’s always complaining that he’s got a flat ass and needs to work out more.”
Ranboo giggled, a little scandalized, but the wine and the warmth of the dim room made the feeling more distant. Philza continued his story, grinning fully now. “Anyway, anyway, so he goes, and has a great time, right? Except there’s some guy there, also in the beginner class, that immediately starts hitting on him.” Philza swirled his wine, taking a sip. “And this guy is pushy. So Quackity, for whatever reason, decides that the best way to get out of this awkward situation is,” he leaned forward conspiratorially, and Ranboo leaned in too, watching the red that the wine and the food had painted on Philza’s cheeks. “Get this: he lies and tells the guy he’s married.” Philza leaned back, laughing uproariously, and Ranboo laughed along. It was a pretty silly situation, especially so in comparison to his and Philza’s very chill first misstep on that front. “And, and, he has to keep this lie up for like eight weeks! So I get dragged out to go ring shopping with him to keep him from having a meltdown over diamond sizes.”
“He bought a real diamond ring?” Ranboo asked, disbelieving. Philza nodded.
“I got him to buy one of those lab-made ones. Still ridiculously expensive.” He looked out the window with a casual air. “Shoulda just said he didn’t bring it to class, in my opinion, but he was determined.”
“What happened then?” Ranboo asked, and Philza shrugged.
“He finished the class. Ended up moving on to intermediate classes, and the guy didn’t. Boy, did he have some explaining to do when he shoved up to the first intermediate class without his ring, though: Apparently the instructors had gotten pretty invested in the love story he made up.” He glanced over at Ranboo. “Seems like a lot of work to keep up though, right?”
“For sure,” Ranboo agreed. He couldn’t even keep quiet about Techno’s birthday gifts, he’d never be able to make up a whole relationship like that.
The room was quiet for a moment. It was nice to be able to sit in silence with a friend like this–Ranboo enjoyed listening to Philza’s stories almost as much as he liked listening to Techno’s, but there was definitely something to be said about enjoying the silence. He hummed contentedly to himself.
“Whelp,” Philza said after a minute, slapping his hands down on his thighs and rising. “I’ll put away the dishes, and if you wanna check the freezer, we got dessert in there.”
“Philza, you shouldn’t have!” Ranboo said, delight entirely obvious in his voice as he hurried over to the fridge. Ooooh, chocolate chip cookie ice cream cake.
“Figured it might be nice,” Philza said, carrying in dishes and serving utensils. “You wanna take that out to the table, I’ll bring the plates and stuff.”
They ate the cake, and afterwards Ranboo lost the politeness war to do the dishes but did manage to yoink a dishrag to wipe off the dinner table. Lost the battle but not the war, as Techno would have said.
“So, what do we wanna do next time?” Philza asked once things were put away and they were back at the table to finish off the wine bottle between them. “Restaurant, my place, your place?”
Ranboo hummed.
“Techno doesn’t really like having people over who he doesn't know,” he said apologetically.
“That’s fair, don’t sweat it then,” Philza said without a moment’s hesitation. He was so chill. “We can go back to that Indian place?”
That decided, and after some more goodbyes, Ranboo was on his way home. He was smiling, he realized, despite the sharp November chill. It was a good evening, and he couldn’t wait to tell Techno all about it.
It happened in the bookstore, because of course it did. Techno’s favorite book series had a new release coming, and he wanted to go see if he could find some of the older books in the series in physical form. They decided Eret’s store was as good a place to start as any, and because Techno didn’t do early mornings on his days off, they ended up going on Saturday afternoon. It wasn’t until he literally bumped directly into someone and got a very familiar sorry, mate in return that Ranboo remembered about Philza.
“Philza!” he exclaimed, grabbing Philza’s hands in his and grinning ear to ear. Philza was smiling too, laughing as he spoke.
“We gotta stop meeting like this,” he quipped.
“You okay, Ranboo?” Techno’s voice came up behind him and he turned, looking between Philza and Techno giving each other wary looks and oh! Oh! Introductions!
“Techno, this is Philza,” Ranboo said, gesturing at Philza. “And Philza, this is my husband Techno, you know, the firefighter?”
“Oh my god,” Philza said, just barely loud enough to be heard. “You’re real.”
Before Ranboo could do more than blink and that response Philza had already gone red and slapped a hand over his mouth, turning towards the front of the bookstore with speed.
“Ope, yep, time for me to go, bye Ranboo!” He said over his shoulder, and Ranboo was still kind of in shock because what but he was also not letting Philza get out of finally meeting Techno (who he didn’t think was real???) and hurried to catch up to him, halting him with a hand on his shoulder.
“No, you’re explaining that,” he said with frankly unprecedented backbone, only to immediately cringe back as Philza pushed him off. “Or not! sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t have sprung that on you–”
Hands on his shoulders–only for a moment, and then Philza’s voice in his ears.
“No, mate, I’m sorry, that was…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you mate,” and that was weird, because Philza was the one that sounded upset. Steps behind him, familiar hands brushing his.
“Deep breaths, Ranboo,” Techno rumbled and right, those were a thing. Ranboo breathed, opening his eyes (when did he close them?) to find a truly miserable-looking Philza and a Techno glancing between the two of them, breathing deeply. Ranboo matched him, then smiled shakily at Philza.
“I’m okay,” he promised, and Philza shook his head.
“Nah, I’m - ok, I’m glad, but I’m also sorry. For. All of that. Can I make it up to you?” he hesitated, then turned to Techno. “Both?” Techno glanced at him, an eyebrow raised.
“You good with that, Ranboo?”
And Ranboo… nodded, because he wanted to hear what on earth Philza had been thinking, and also for Techno and Philza to meet, and maybe also because he brushed a little too close to a panic attack and would like a sitdown while other people talked. Techno nodded as well, turning back to Philza.
“Sounds good. If you can find a place that serves pretend coffee, I guess, since I’m just a figment of imagination…” he said, perfectly deadpan. And Philza–Philza laughed, sounding relieved, and turned to the exit once again.
“Alright, alright, I’ll find you the realest coffee on the block.”
Philza found them a very cute little coffeeshop named Jaiden’s brews and insisted on paying for all of their coffees. He was very apologetic, but he also kept laughing at every imaginary friend joke Techno made, so Ranboo thought that was probably alright.
“I thought you just wanted an excuse to say no to going out with me,” Philza explained once they sat down with their drinks. “And you never really… proved me wrong? You sounded so surprised every time I asked about, like, anything about him.”
“I showed you pictures,” Ranboo said a little helplessly. Philza shrugged.
“None of them were of the two of you! That could just have been, like, a guy.”
“I told you he doesn’t like pictures taken of him!”
“Oh, and when I asked what he-what you do,” Philza corrected, glancing at Techno. “And you said firefighter right after sirens had gone off like, a street over!” That had happened, Ranboo remembered vaguely. “And then you couldn’t tell me what station he works at!”
“He’s got memory issues,” Techno supplied, and Philza’s face went through something complicated before he buried his face in his hands.
“Oh, I’ve been such a prick, I’m sorry Ranboo.” He sounded upset. Ranboo carefully patted his shoulder.
“It’s okay Philza. I forget sometimes too.” It was an old joke, but it got a laugh out of Philza.
“Can’t believe the one social thing Ranboo does while I’m not there ends up with me bein’ declared imaginary,” Techno said, and Philza laughed a little, looking up at Techno. He had a look on his face Ranboo couldn't quite decipher: Like someone looking at a tree hit by lightning, wary of another strike yet amazed at it still standing.
“Hey, mate, if you’d been less of a shut-in, none of this would happen,” he shot back, gagging Techno's reaction. Techno, of course, played up his affront with a toothy smile.
“Hey, I’m no shut-in, I’ve got an artfully decorated home and I enjoy spending time where all my money is,” Techno replied. “Our apartment costs one whole dollar per square foot every month, I’m gonna make sure to use every bit of that.”
“Oh damn, that’s fucked up,” Philza whistled. “Rent has gotten crazy, right?”
Ranboo stayed quiet, enjoying their caffeine free mocha with two pumps of hazelnut. Techno and Philza continued chatting, going from rent to rent control to some new city ordinance to video games, voices growing more animated and Philza’s laughs growing louder and more sincere. Ranboo sipped at his drink, humming contentedly to himself. They looked good together.
…Maybe he should ask Philza if that offer for dinner for the both of them was still on the table. That could be something to explore. He hummed to himself, content, before a memory struck him out of nowhere as they occasionally did.
“Hey wait, is that what the Quackity story was about?!”