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"There's a cat behind you, bossman."
Tommy, halfway between the sliding door and the main room, pauses and turns. Sure enough, Tubbo is right. There's a lanky calico at his heels, sniffling at Tommy's pant leg curiously. Tommy blinks and she looks up at him, eyes big and brown.
Hello , she says.
"Oh," Tommy blinks again. "Oh. Uh- that is not my cat."
Tubbo hums, head tilted a little. Observing. It's a little weird because normal people would shoo a stray cat away from their front door- especially one on the brink of coming inside- but Tubbo seems mildly interested in what Tommy will do. Almost like it's a test.
Tommy hates tests.
"Um, go on now," he says in a nervous voice to the calico. She blinks slowly at him. Pretty girl- he can imagine letting her in and feeding her bits of cucumber, letting her sit in his lap as he scratches under her chin, hearing all she has to say as he lays back.
Ah fuck. He's already attached.
"I'm- I'm sure you have an owner to get back to." He pleads.
She flicks an ear at him. That'd be a no. But she gets the hint and turns around, running across the yard and disappearing behind a hole in Tubbo's fence.
Tommy turns back to Tubbo, shaky smile on his face. "There we go, crisis averted!"
Tubbo keeps watching him with that look. Studying him. "Hm. Yeah. Come on then, shut the door behind you."
…
When he was younger, the kids at school didn't understand what he was.
They didn't know why when he walked flowers sprung up behind him, why when they went on field trips squirrels chittered at him, why when he ran across the playground, the wind seemed to push him along.
They didn't know what he was, so they didn't like it.
They'd call him all sorts of things and do all sorts of things to him. One of which was to challenge him to do things the right way. Test him, to see if he could manage.
Come on Tom, do it right, don't be freakish now.
They'd have him spin around in circles blindfolded and try and find his way without the wind to guide, they'd corner him in stalls or locker rooms, places without any earth, and taunt him into giving in, they'd purposefully lead him to dead animals in the nearby woods and grin at him sadistically when he teared up.
They were cruel.
He'd come home, drooping like a wilted flower and his mother would take his face into her hands and go, they don't understand you- how special you are. Eventually you'll find people who do. And their love will be the only thing you need.
He tried his best to believe her. And then he got older and realized it was just getting worse.
People can always get crueler. He's still waiting for the day that they start being nice.
…
Wilbur is alright.
Off stream he talks of things like ghosts and banshees and elves and fairy circles with excitement and reverence. It's with the air of someone who's never seen magic before, with the air of someone who grew up only hearing word of mouth.
In all honesty, ghosts only speak to people who have the patience to deal with them and fairies are quite annoying- especially when they want something you have, but Tommy thinks Wilbur's ideas of fantasy are fun. And he doesn't sneer at magic like most people Tommy knows, so he lets it be.
For a while, Tommy thought Wilbur was magic himself- his voice, his words, his music. Every sound Wilbur made, from his loud laugh to his sleepy whispers, seemed to draw whoever was listening in. Seemed to make them feel what he felt. Pull them to where he wanted them to be.
Whenever Wilbur pulled out his guitar, Tommy settled back in his chair, so excited that he accidentally grew moss on the arm rests, ready to listen. Wilbur would tune and strum and sing and Tommy'd experience joy unlike anything he's ever before. It had to be magic. It had to be.
It wasn't, but it was close.
"I'm not magic," Wilbur laughed when Tommy asked. "I'm not, but I wish I knew someone who was. I've yet to meet someone like that."
You do, Tommy wanted to say. You do, hi. But he didn't. He couldn't even say why. He had no real reason to hide it. Wilbur was clearly excited about magic and inspired by it with everything he did.
But still- Tommy kept it hidden.
"You'll meet someone," Tommy said instead, "and then you'll impress them with your magic fingers and your magic voice."
Wilbur rolled his eyes, but Tommy just smiled and brushed daisies off his desk.
…
"It's pretty warm in here," Ranboo says, stumbling into the kitchen with a blanket around his shoulders. He'd fallen asleep midday again- jet lag, he kept saying, but Tommy was getting worried.
"Sorry," Tubbo says without looking up from his phone, "my bad."
"You don't have to apologize for the thermostat dude," Tommy huffs. But he did feel the heat- it was just edging on uncomfortable, not too terrible.
Tubbo blinks at him. "Oh. Uh, right. Yeah."
Ranboo shuffles in further, tucks himself between Tommy and Tubbo. Tommy jumps.
"Ranboo, what the fuck- you're freezing!"
Ranboo hums intelligently. "Cold."
Tommy braces, then tucks back in, placing his chin on Ranboo's shoulder. Tubbo presses in on the other side, eyes shining all weird, glowing golden. Something must be up with the kitchen lights. The room steadily gets warmer, and Ranboo lays his head against Tommy's, comfortable.
"Full moon tonight," He says. Tommy wonders how he's gonna cook when there's a Ranboo leaning on him.
"Oh yeah? Gonna be awake for it, big man?"
"Always," He says sleepily, then passes out.
"He sleeps standing up." Tubbo grimaces. "Like a weirdo."
"Tall motherfucker," Tommy says affectionately, trying not to accidentally make moon flowers burst out of the ground. "How am I gonna make soup now?"
"I'll do it," Tubbo says, then doesn't move an inch.
Okay Tubbo. Sure.
…
Tommy went to Tescos with Jack Manifold and somehow- somehow- managed not to blow his own cover wide open.
During the car ride, they kept the windows up and Tommy ignored the way the wind beat against the glass trying to get to him. When they parked, he hopped out, and it immediately swirled around him like a hug, blowing the hat off Jack's head.
"Holy shit," Jack said, and reached down to pick it up, leaving Tommy just enough time to softly chide her.
"Don't do that-" he hissed good-naturedly. "Bullying Jack Manifold is my job."
She whistled at him dismissively and then blew his hat further down the parking lot. Tommy choked down laughter.
They made it inside without any more incidents and with Jack's hat safely on his head. Tommy, in content mode, played it all up for the camera, touching everything, joking about brands that will never want to work with him, making Jack laugh so hard his camera shook.
Tommy could hear Jack's heartbeat thrumming, and smiled when Jack had to pull the camera down in the middle of the snack aisle to clutch his own stomach.
"Tommy, oh my god- Tommy-" he giggled, "you're- you're so fucking funny mate, oh my god."
Tommy beamed, rocking back on his toes, so full of happiness that he felt like a bright summer day. Jack took a huge breath, and let it out, trying to get himself back on track.
"Come on Toms," he said, "I want to find some magic-infused biscuits."
Tommy paused, smile dropping into shock. Jack paid him no mind, reaching out and pulling Tommy away by the wrist to the next aisle.
"Uh, magic-infused biscuits?" Tommy asked, stumbling along.
"Yes, I've always wanted some- we can try them together. Mukbang stream."
Oh. So Jack was- If Tommy ever told him- huh. Okay. Right. Good.
Tommy snorted, finally over his surprise. "Jack, those things are just scams. Like Quibi or standardized scantron tests."
Jack shot him a look. "Tommy, scantron tests are real." Tommy rolled his eyes. "And how would you know? You aren't magic."
Tommy's quiet. He could. He could just say it. He could just blurt it out and then help Jack find some genuine magic-infused biscuits. He could. Jack is- so nice. And honest. Tommy doesn't think he could lie even if he tried. And he's always telling Tommy how proud he is, how well he's doing, how he could tell Jack anything if he needed to. If Tommy just said it and then said he didn't want it to be a big deal, then Jack would probably move on like nothing happened. Maybe ruffle his hair and then make sure he didn't trip on his own shoelaces. Nothing would change.
Tommy took a breath.
"Of course not, but it's just- I mean, really? Magical biscuits? I don't fucking think so."
Jack sighed loudly and called Tommy a spoilsport. Tommy tried not to be too disappointed in himself as they bought the scam biscuits.
…
When Tommy wakes up, the air smells like herbs and spices and there's music playing.
He shifts, blinking, realizing that he must've fallen asleep with Ranboo. He's sitting at the kitchen counter, Ranboo half laying on him, snoring lightly. Tubbo is still on Ranboo's other side, humming and scrolling on his phone, looking like he hasn't moved.
"Tub?" Tommy slurs sleepily.
The music, coming from nowhere, stops. Tubbo looks over, sees Tommy squinting at him and grins. He sort of glows for a moment, a warm orange- Tommy thinks it must be his tired eyes because it stops after a second.
"Tommy, hey, dinner's ready." Tubbo says. "You guys wanna stop sleeping for just a second and eat something?"
"Fuck off," Tommy huffs, then buries his face into Ranboo's shoulder. "You're just jealous."
"Oh no," Tubbo denies, standing to check on what looks to be a pot of soup. "Definitely not. I'm the one who will be able to sleep tonight. You and Ranboo can stay up talking about shooting stars and moon charts or whatever."
Ranboo, who Tommy could've sworn was dead asleep just a second ago, goes, "Tubbo, you love shooting stars and moon charts," and it's weird, because he sounds a little hurt. Like Tubbo's personally offended him.
Tubbo stops. "Of course I do Ranboo," he reassures, voice gentle and sweet like honey. "Of course I do."
Ranboo hums, set at ease, and Tommy feels like he might have missed a step in between A and B. The music coming from nowhere, sounding like Tubbo's ukulele, starts up again and Ranboo pulls away to rub at his eyes.
"It's almost eight now," Tommy says, concerned but hiding it behind being annoying. "Are you finished sleeping?"
"You slept too."
"How am I supposed to not?" Tommy groans. "You've infected me with your exhaustion. I'm gonna fall asleep in the middle of breakfast tomorrow- probably in the middle of my sentence."
Ranboo grins that little knowing grin of his. All hidden secrets. "No you won't." His eyes flicker to Tubbo's back. "It's supposed to be a sunny day out. You're going to end up dragging us down to the park or something."
Tommy pauses. That does sound like something he would do. And he's been inside way too long. He needs his toes in the dirt. He needs to breathe air that doesn't taste mechanical. Tubbo makes a noise like he's agreeing, and then somehow manages to carry over three bowls of soup by himself.
"Eat up," He says, placing them down. "We've got a full moon to catch."
…
Becoming friends with Ranboo, like everything in Tommy's life, started slow and then went by so quick it felt like a blink.
They planned one stream together, an introduction, and it spurred a whole plotline where Tommy got exiled. It was fun, Tommy remembers, having a new person to try all his tricks out on and to make uncomfortable just for the fun of it. After the stream Ranboo had laughed, thought it was funny. He didn't even need to be reassured that Tommy was joking, he just- knew.
Ranboo just knew a lot of things.
Sometimes, Tommy would go on an alt and watch Tubbo and Ranboo stream together, watch the way they interacted. It was, admittedly, a form of self-torture. Tommy would not, and never could be Ranboo, and he knew it. But still, he just- he'd watch and see the way that Ranboo instinctively knew when Tubbo was too tired to keep up with a bit, or when he was in a mood to cause chaos, or when he needed to enter a private call because he was feeling a bit down.
It felt like Ranboo was a good friend in all the ways that Tommy could never be, but always wanted.
And of course, the second Tommy's thoughts ever strayed in that direction, he'd get a dm from Ranboo; something like, hey want to join stream if you aren't busy? or are you done editing yet so we can call? or hey, look at this dog ha, looks like Tubbo.
Ranboo just knows. Always has.
Of course he was gonna become one of Tommy's best friends. Of course. It was a given.
As they got closer, Tommy suspected that Ranboo wasn't completely normal. How could he be with the way he talked of charts and rituals, of stones and spirits, of alters and shadows? How could he be when he knew exactly when Tommy was running out of streamer persona energy and needed to end before Tommy knew? How could he be with the way he took both Tommy's life and Tubbo's chaos with a simple patient demeanor?
But Ranboo was always secretive. Keeping his face hidden, his hands covered. He obviously didn't want anyone to know, even if he was. So Tommy ignored that little itch in the back of his head that said, go, go, and ask, go and find out , and eventually that little itch stopped.
Eventually Ranboo's quirks were just that, nothing mystical about it.
…
The soup tastes like the sun.
It shocks Tommy when he has his first spoonful, as he's never had Tubbo's cooking before. Ranboo and Tubbo both watch him eat it, watch his face freeze and then watch the way he sighs in delight. It tastes the way that Tubbo feels to him- warm, comfortable, fulfilling. Like an empty spot inside of Tommy being plugged up.
"Oh Tubbo," Tommy says, mouth full of potato and carrot, "this is fucking good ."
Tubbo grins. "Yeah? Good. Good."
He sort of shuffled happily, like Tommy's approval meant leagues to him, even though Tommy hardly knows much about the kitchen. He'll work with a garden any day, even chop up a salad, but the day he seasons meat is the day he stops waking up in the morning to vines crawling along his bedroom wall.
They finish eating and then Tubbo takes the blanket from Ranboo and leads them out to his backyard. The grass is damp from rain, but Tommy waves off the offer of the dry seat offered by the cover, instead pulling off his socks and digging his toes into the wet earth.
Ranboo is wide awake now, eyes big as he watches the sky. Tubbo, tucked onto the blanket with him, lays his head against Ranboo's shoulder, eyes already lidded.
"-and there, there's triangulum and right under it, if you can follow my finger, is aries. That's you Tommy."
Tommy gazes up at the stars, awed. They seem much brighter tonight than they ever have at home. Almost like they're twinkling for the three of them.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," Ranboo nods, "there's a magic to star reading you know. Some people, when they point out the constellations, can make them brighter to others."
Tommy hesitates.
Tubbo, still leaning on Ranboo's shoulder, pauses. Ranboo watches Tommy, again with that same look that Tubbo had before, with the cat at the sliding door. A test.
Tommy's insides curl unpleasantly.
"Ah," Tommy goes, careful to sound pleasantly interested, not prying, not surprised, not overly curious. Just as if Ranboo had told him a fact about dinosaurs or the mechanics of a car- like magic is some distant thing that Tommy will only ever know the surface of. "That's cool."
Tubbo turns his face into Ranboo's shoulder, like he's disappointed. Ranboo hums. "It is cool. Very cool. One might even say pogchamp."
And it's supposed to sound normal, but Tommy can tell he's trying . Tommy's done something wrong. He's fucked it all up. Fuck. Fuck.
Ranboo continues teaching about the stars, but with less enthusiasm, and Tubbo's head stays down. Tommy curls his fingers into the dirt and focuses on breathing and not anxiously growing a whole greenhouse under them.
…
When Tommy met Tubbo in real life for the first time, he thought he was going to burst.
All the excitement had him hopping around the house. It had everything from gardenias to chrysanthemums to four leaf clovers to full on saplings bursting out of his floorboards and through the cracks in his kitchen. His dad had to push him outside to the porch and make him sit on the stone path just so he wouldn't end up growing a whole oak through the living room.
Again.
His mom came out later with her car keys, his water bottle and a worried expression. "Are you sure you'll be able to do this Tom? I know controlling it is hard when you're excited, but-"
"I can." He says. A patch of grass at his elbow shoots up taller. He scoots in front of it.
His mom gives him a look.
"I can." He says again. "I'm just- he's my best friend. And I think he's- I'm pretty sure he's like me."
She looks doubtful. "You know I admire your endless optimism, it's what I love about you. But what if he isn't? You've only ever talked to him over technology honey, I don't think-" he wilts a little, and she sighs. She reaches out, brushes petals out of his curls, swipes a thumb over his cheek. "I just don't want to see you get hurt."
Tommy had nodded, because of course, he didn't want to get hurt either. But secretly he was thinking- what happened to the hope of meeting people like him? What happened to maybe someone will understand ? When did someday soon become probably never?
He spent the whole meetup in a state of anxious euphoria- tempering his reactions and measuring his movements. It was a bright sunny day and they were on the ocean and Tubbo was all steady, holding his hands out, grinning- beaming like the rays- and Tommy shakily smiled back, took the hand offered and let himself be pulled up.
The weather was perfect, the waves small, the wind careful. When Tubbo deemed Tommy sufficiently wet, he got them ice cream cones by the pier, and when Tommy ate his, it tasted sweet and calming- like the color golden.
At one point Tommy shivered, the sky overcast, and Tubbo frowned.
"Cold?" He asked, and then scooted closer, pressing their thighs together. Instantly, Tommy was warmer.
"Tubbo, what the fuck," Tommy said, melting a bit. "You're like- you're like a fucking furnace."
Tubbo flashed him a grin. "Magic."
Inwardly, Tommy reared back like, ten steps, but he hadn't been kidding when he told his mom he could handle himself. Outwardly he just hummed and said, "Sick."
In the moment, Tommy had been almost ninety percent sure Tubbo was being serious, but as the day went on and there was no other mention of magic or mystics or anything of the sort, Tommy was less and less sure. They vlogged and streamed and when Tommy started getting antsy, they went outside to sit by Tubbo's mum's garden and talk about video games. When Tubbo wasn't looking, Tommy refreshed the tomatoes.
It was a balancing act, and he felt kind of silly, but Tubbo was Tommy's best friend, and losing him just wasn't worth it.
…
Ranboo, of course, was right.
The next day is bright and sunny and beautiful- the kind of cloudless bliss that made Tommy want to faceplant directly into a meadow and not come out until dark. Tubbo had woken up before both of them, with the sun, and made toaster strudels with strawberry drizzle for all of them. Thankfully, he was still in the kitchen when Tommy woke up because as per usual, there were vines crawling across the blanket, curling around him like a hug.
Tommy squeezed a hand around them and they withered, and he quickly threw them outside when he was sure no one was looking. He can't even begin to imagine how he'd explain away being caught with wilted vines at nine in the morning.
They got Ranboo up and ate their strudels on the kitchen island- Tubbo periodically kicking him to keep Ranboo awake, and Tommy getting strawberry syrup all over his hands.
Despite last night, the two of them seemed alright. A bit sullen, but still warm to Tommy. Ranboo doing things like offering him a couple of napkins for his hands and Tubbo kicking him after he kicks Ranboo in order to keep things fair around here.
When it comes time to plan the day, they both seem content to let Tommy take the lead. Tommy, chronic overachiever, views it as his chance to make it up to them- to fix whatever invisible thing broke between them last night. He can tell they're trying to pretend like nothing has changed, but he can feel it in his bones.
Tommy isn't going to mess this up again. He'll be thoughtful and make it a good day for both of them, and he'll be in control the whole time. No slip ups, no accidents. Just the three of them having a great day. It'll be fine- amazing even.
...Just as soon as he figures out what it is that they're actually doing .
Ranboo is still half asleep, so he needs something that will keep him awake and aware, and Tommy remembers the happiest he's ever seen Tubbo, it was at-
"The beach!" He says spontaneously.
Tubbo jerks and Ranboo nearly chokes on a strawberry.
"Uh, sorry?" Ranboo says, once Tubbo's done pounding on his back. "You want to go where?"
"To the beach!" Tommy repeats. Then he pauses, seeing the hesitancy in both of them. Doubt creeps in. "Unless- I mean, we can do something different if you didn't-"
"No!" Tubbo blurts. "No, no, that wasn't- no. What I think Ranboo is trying to say is- Tommy, the last time we went to the beach together you hated it."
Tommy frowns. "I didn't hate it."
"You did."
"I- I didn't!"
"You cursed at the ocean like it was Wilbur Soot."
Tommy flushes. "It was particularly Soot-like that day, what do you want me to say!"
Soot-like , Ranboo mouths to himself. Tommy ignores him.
"Look Tommy," Tubbo says, sighing, "what I'm trying to say is, if you're sure that the ocean is what you want to deal with, then we'll go. We just don't want you to do anything you don't want to do. Yeah?"
"The ocean is what I want to do." He lies. A beat passes. "Hold on, can I reword that cause it sounded a bit- I mean, that was just fucked up. Out of context and all that."
Ranboo laughs and Tubbo rolls his eyes, but he's smiling, so Tommy takes the win.
They clean up, and then get their stuff together. Tommy waits semi impatiently for Ranboo to stop dragging tail and does his best to walk out calmly when Tubbo opens up the sliding door. He walks with his flip flops on, because he doesn't have the cover of darkness to hide the little blossoms that poke up as he steps, even if all he wants out of the day is to roll around in some fucking leaves.
It's not all bad though, the second they get outside, Tubbo is bouncier, like he's recharged since waking up. He keeps spinning around on the path, throwing his arms out like he can touch the sunlight. Ranboo, holding all their towels because he's a pushover, watches him happily, like he's glad to see Tubbo glad.
Tommy can tell the second they get to the beach because the air turns salty and the path crumbles into little rocks. No plant grows here, and the only heartbeat to be heard is the crash of the waves against the shore. He pauses when the ocean is in view and Tubbo and Ranboo walk ahead, not noticing him.
The ocean has always terrified him. Healthily, he would say. It's deep and powerful, well beyond all of Tommy's measly years. It changes patterns in seconds, at one point soothing and mild and then another, rough and stormy. The water isn't nourishing or clear, and the animals in it are mysterious and have never felt much like talking to him.
It was just- so opposite to everything Tommy was okay with. He was much more comfortable giving it a wide berth.
But Tubbo is kicking off his shoes and Ranboo is setting up an umbrella, so Tommy soldiers on.
This is for them , he reminds himself. It'll be fine.
.
It's not that bad.
Ranboo stays under the umbrella for the most part, while Tubbo runs out into the waves, still all excited about being out. Tommy lingers in the wet sand, watching his own footprints get washed away and picking up any shells he sees. When he finds a cool one, he hikes up the small hill and drops it in the bucket beside Ranboo. If it's a really cool one, then Ranboo will smile and ramble about its history and property and uses. Tommy doesn't entirely understand what he's saying- he'd much rather see magic in front of him then hear about it- but he grins and goes to get more when Ranboo runs out of facts about the last one.
Eventually Tubbo gets tired of running by himself and disrupts Tommy's shell collecting to curl a hand around his wrist and pull him into the water.
"Ah, Tubs, I don't know," he says warily. They're knee deep now. He can't see his toes.
"Tommy, you said you wanted the ocean." Tubbo points out, walking them in deeper. "The sand isn't the ocean. And besides, I've got you. And- Ranboo, come here and swim! And Ranboo will get you too."
"Ranboo isn't gonna-"
"Hi," Ranboo says suddenly from behind Tommy. Tommy jumps. Ah, there are his feet. Still attached to his legs. Cool. "Oh- uh- sorry. My bad. But yes, Ranboo is going to." He pauses. Tommy tries to get his heart rate under control. "What is it that Ranboo is going to do?"
"Stop talking about yourself in the first person, that'll be a start," Tubbo says.
Ranboo grins.
"Stop scaring the shit out of me?" Tommy asks.
Ranboo frowns. "Oh. Did I scare you?"
Tommy opens his mouth to respond but Tubbo goes, "Oh look Tommy! We're already chest deep! Nice!"
They are. Tubbo, the sneaky motherfucker, kept walking while bantering, and because Tommy is susceptible to inertia, he kept moving without thinking much of it. And now he's chest deep in an ocean that is throwing waves at him and he can't so much as feel an anchor of a plant to help him.
"Ah," he says weakly. "Yay. Water."
Ranboo puts a hand on the small of Tommy's back. "Tubbo, I don't think-"
"Come on Ran," Tubbo says, loudly, "Tommy wanted water. This is water! It's not even that bad. Look, Tommy, look at this over here."
The water, which has admittedly lulled, is laying still enough for the sun to play across it beautifully. Golden over blue. It makes the ocean look like it's been threaded with light.
"Oh," Tommy blinks. "That's- that's so cool."
He reaches out a hand to touch and the water twists. Tubbo laughs and pushes Tommy's hand away.
"It's magic, Tommy. You can't just touch it." He says it so casually and then Ranboo laughs so calmly that it all of a sudden hits Tommy smack in the face. The thing he's been missing all this time.
And then, of course, the wave follows.
The wave rolls in and Tommy is so surprised that he loses his footing and goes under. He panics for a half a second, until he realizes the wave is pushing him towards the shore and relaxes, and then starts panicking anew when it drags him back. A hand reaches for him and he blindly smacks at it, trying to get his feet under his body enough to get air.
Air . He needs to breathe, he needs oxygen. He's spinning wildly and going to- he won't-
He manages to shove himself up and coughs. The wind is going crazy, whipping this way and that, but the second he surfaces, it tugs one specific way. Tommy doesn't fight her, keeping his eyes shut and trusting. A second later his back hits sand and he rolls up and out of the reach of the water, still coughing and hacking.
The wind rustles around him, brushing him, ruffling through his curls, drying him- all worried. He coughs again and lifts his head, blinking water out of his eyes.
"I'm alright," he croaks, "I'm okay."
"Tommy!" Tubbo yells, clambering out of the water with Ranboo right on his tail. The water's calmed down now, just churning nervously, the waves smaller. "Tommy, fuck- Tom-"
He drops to his knees beside Tommy and puts two steaming hands on Tommy's back to turn him over. All of a sudden, Tommy is blinking up at his best friends. Tubbo is tearing up, holding his hands like he's nervous to touch, like he doesn't know what to do. He's got a golden glow outline around him, too bright to be from the sun. And Ranboo is standing over them, equally stressed, shaking, skin shimmering like polished silver.
"Tommy," Tubbo is still going, close to sobbing now, "fuck, say something, please, I can't-"
"You're magic." He whispers.
Tubbo stops talking, his chest still heaving, shoulders still jumping. "Wh-what?"
"You're magic." Tommy says again, louder. He's getting his bearings about him. He's confident now. "You- the both of you. You're both magic."
Ranboo's got tears mixing with seawater on his face and he looks about half in shock, but Tubbo bounces back quick- always has.
"Of fucking course we do, you prick!" He snaps. The effect of his anger is lessened by the way his voice breaks. "What does that matter? You almost fucking died!"
Tommy blinks. "Tubs, I-"
"Don't you dare Tubs me!" Tubbo growls. "I ought to fucking kick you right now! Why the hell would you tell us to come to the ocean when you don't fucking want to be out here? Why the fuck would you let me- I almost- I fucking-"
Ranboo kneels down on Tommy's other side and places a hand on Tubbo's arm. Tubbo instantly turns and hides his face against Ranboo's shoulder. He's still shaking, and now he's crying. The sky gets darker. The sun hiding away.
"We are magic," Ranboo says, voice shaky, like half twinkling stars. Like gravely rocks. "We are. We were trying to tell you. We- the full moon. The kitchen. We've been trying."
Oh.
The music from nowhere, the soup that tastes like comfort, the star charts and full moon watching. Apologizing for the thermostat. Always knowing even without being told. The sea shells and sun ray dances.
"Oh." He says.
Tubbo's still crying. Ranboo is still trembling.
Tommy sits up. "Tubbo. Tubbo, please. I'm- look at me. I'm okay. I'm alright. I swear."
Tubbo peeks at him. The sight of his red-rimmed eyes makes Tommy hurt.
"Hey," He says soothingly, "hey. I'm okay. I'm right here."
Tubbo hesitates and then launches himself at Tommy, heartbeat kicking back up. Tommy catches him and holds him, chin in Tubbo's wet hair. He's burning hot, but Ranboo joins the hug, wrapping his arms around the both of them and he's ice cold. It balances out. The wind curls around the three of them and Tommy takes a deep breath.
"We're okay." He says, listening to the way their hearts slow."We're alright. I promise."
.
Tommy refuses to talk until they're far away from the fucking ocean.
Tubbo seems to share that sentiment, warm hand around Tommy's wrist like he might disappear if he isn't monitored. He's quiet though, Ranboo as well. Neither one of them speak as he carefully packs all the little shells Tommy collected and as Tubbo wraps a towel around himself. Tommy leads them back to Tubbo's house, letting the silence linger, head spinning too much to grasp onto one single thought.
He stops them when they're in Tubbo's yard. "Here."
Ranboo shifts awkwardly. "Here?"
Tommy nods once.
Tubbo sighs. "Alright then. Here. Let's talk. Things you should know: I'm magic, Ranboo's magic. We haven't been hiding it from you, not really-"
"-maybe when we first met," Ranboo cuts in. "I wasn't too comfortable with all that yet."
"-yeah, Ranboo hid it from me back then too." Tubbo nods. "But I- I've never tried to hide it from you Toms. You've always been- you're my best friend. How could I-" He chokes up a little and Tommy frowns. "-you've just always been so accepting and casual about any mentions of magic, so I figured that you had some. That you were like us. But yesterday, you hadn't said, and so I- I was upset. But of course, to us, it doesn't matter because we'd take you in any way that you were. You're- you're ours, you know? Our Tommy."
Tommy inhales, throat tight. "I am?"
"You are." Ranboo answers firmly. "You always will be. Even- even if you didn't want us as best friends any more because it's so-"
"Wait. What the fuck are you on about?" Tommy blurts, frowning.
"We're trying to tell you that you don't have to be our friend if it makes you fucking weirded out or whatever, you ass." Tubbo snaps.
Weirded out?
"Yeah," Ranboo continues, breathing funny, like he's trying to hold himself together. "We know that hearing about magic and actually being around are two totally different things and- so, if you felt, I don't know, uncomfortable with it, then it would suck, a lot, but we'd understand."
Tommy nearly bursts into laughter. "Oh my god, you guys are so fucking stupid. Of course I still want you guys to be my friends. What kinda fucking- I'd want you guys even if you had three heads or purple teeth. Why would magic change any of that?"
Tubbo blinks. Ranboo makes a small sound.
"Oh." Tubbo says. Then he smiles. "Oh. Okay. Good. Then that's-"
"Tubbo," Ranboo warningly. Tubbo's smile drops. "Tommy isn't finished. Are you?"
Tommy, suddenly nervous, rocks on his toes. "Uh, yeah. I'm not. I've got tons more to say. Or show. Or- I don't know. Present. I'm- happy fucking birthday, ha. You know?"
The wind blows by. Be calm.
Yeah. Sure. Easy for you to say, he wants to snap back.
"There was a reason I wanted to talk here instead of in there." Tommy continues. He toes off his flip flops and plants his feet in the grass. "Grass."
They both stare.
"Grass." Tubbo repeats.
"Like, grass?" Ranboo asks.
"Grass." Tommy says again. And then he lifts his foot and in his footprint, in the dented stalks, are a bundle of fresh yellow daisies. He grins and looks up at them, nervous. Excited. Anticipatory.
"What the fuck is that?" Tubbo says bluntly.
Tommy flinches. "Um. Yellow daisies. They're like, a flower. From the earth. They- fucking, I don't know. Do you want a whole background? I- I know the background. If you wanted me to tell you."
Tubbo lifts his gaze. Glares at Tommy so hard Tommy stops talking. "No, I know what it is. What the fuck is that though?"
"Tubbo," Ranboo tries again, but Tubbo is upset now. He takes a step forward and Tommy scrambles back.
"Are you telling me, this whole entire time you've had magic and have just not said?"
Tommy's off the grass now and on the stone, his back pressed against the glass of the sliding door. He doesn't speak, just nods slowly with wide eyes.
"T ommy ," Tubbo exclaims, and Tommy can't decipher his tone, past and present mixing up too much in his head. "What the hell man!"
"Tubbo!" Ranboo barks again.
"Sorry," Tommy manages to whisper. "Sorry, I didn't- I'm-"
Tubbo stops. He seems to realize where he is. Where Tommy is. Tommy's chest is so tight he thinks he's going to have a heart attack and fucking die.
"Oh." Tubbo says, sounding smaller now. "Oh, Toms, I- sorry. Sorry, I didn't mean to- you-" He takes a step backwards and Tommy can pull in at least half a breath. "Sorry, I didn't mean to go all loud, I just-" he reaches out a hand and Tommy flinches backwards so hard that his head hits the sliding glass door with a dull thud. Tubbo pauses, arm in mid-air.
"Oh god Toms," when he speaks his voice is trembling, eyes wet. "What did they do to you?"
Tommy thinks of locked school cabinets and hard shoves and poking and prodding. Thinks of the way teachers turned a blind eye to Tommy's tear stained cheeks and bootprint covered bag. Thinks of the words freak and weirdo and the growling tones they were said in. Thinks of hiding and running and squashing his own hope for years and years.
Ranboo steps forward, hands up, palms out. "Tommy, we aren't gonna hurt you. Tubbo is excited, he's just terrible at showing it. Trust me, I've got magic that lets me read emotion. He's excited and a bit upset at not having seen, but he isn't mad. You don't have to be scared."
"Hurt you?" Tubbo repeats, horrified. "Oh God, no. No. I would never- how could I? Who would?"
"Come on Tommy," Ranboo keeps going, talking in that soothing tone again, "you said it best yourself. We're best friends- why would magic change any of that?"
Slowly, Tommy's heart rate lowers and his breathing eases. He pulls himself off the door and pauses for a moment before carefully slumping into Ranboo's arms. Tubbo, shifting with nervous energy, hurries to hug Tommy from behind, curling warm arms around his waist.
"You aren't gonna-" Tommy starts shakily, voice muffled by Ranboo's shirt. "You won't treat me differently?"
"Be pretty hypocritical of us to, actually." Ranboo says. Then he hums, holding tighter. "We won't. We swear."
"And we'll hurt anyone who tries to." Tubbo promises. "Our Tommy."
Tommy relaxes, burrowing closer, finally put at ease.
…
Later, they're out on the lawn again.
It's dark, and there's no full moon, but Ranboo points out the stars to them anyway. When he closes his eyes and puffs out his cheeks, light hurtles across the dark blue. Tubbo and Tommy cheer wildly.
Tommy sits in between the two of them, Ranboo's cold on one side and Tubbo's warmth on the other. He's balancing a plate of half burnt biscuits in his lap and when he bites into one and groans happily at its taste, Tubbo's grin glows in the dark.
"There's a spell in it," he explains, "it only tastes as good as you see me."
"Oh. What does that mean?"
"It's our friendship manifested into taste." Tubbo elaborates. "So if- if we're good, then it'll taste good."
On Tommy's other side, Ranboo smiles fondly. "Magic-infused cookies."
" Biscuits ," Tommy and Tubbo correct at the same time.
Ranboo jolts backwards. "Wow. The British community is very hostile tonight."
"We're good Tubs." Tommy says, ignoring Ranboo. "We're great, actually. These are the best cookies I've ever had."
Tubbo beams. Ranboo pouts. "I'm feeling left out."
Tommy rolls his eyes then he reaches over and pulls Ranboo closer so Tommy can lay on him. "Hush Ranboo. You're American."
"What does that-"
"Ah, ah!" Tubbo stops him. "You're American Ranboo, remember?"
"I-"
"Bap bap bap." Tommy goes.
Ranboo blinks. "Did you just bap bap bap me?"
"For all the Americans out there." Tommy says. Then he eats another biscuit. Ranboo huffs a quiet laugh and reaches around Tommy for one and kinda stays there, right arm loose over Tommy's shoulders. Tubbo tucks closer as well, close enough that Tommy can feel his elbow jab at his ribs anytime Tommy takes a breath.
"You know," Ranboo says after a moment, when Tubbo's music starts floating through the air- a gentle twinkling piano that makes Tommy go all sleepy. "There's another type of magic out there. Really rare. Uh, people have said it's not real. That it's just something fun to think about and speculate over."
"What is it?" Tubbo asks.
"Soulmates. Platonic soulmates." Ranboo says slowly. "Souls that are meant to meet. People who elevate you, balance you, make you feel safer. I think it's said that once you meet, things just feel easier. Like stuff starts to click."
"People whose love is all you need." Tommy recites suddenly.
"Yeah," Ranboo nods, his chin digging into the top of Tommy's head. Tubbo shifts, warm hand finding Tommy's. "Like that. I think- I mean, I'd like to think that's us. You know? The three of us. Platonic soulmates."
Tommy hums.
"It is." Tubbo says. "We are."
"You say that like you know for sure Tubs."
"I do. We're soulmates." He squeezes Tommy's hand and Ranboo laughs- Tommy can feel it rumble through him. "The sun, the moon and the earth. How could we not be?"
And Tommy can't argue with that.