Chapter Text
When Ranboo sits down at a corner table in the cafeteria, quietly eating his lunch, he’s more than surprised to see Tubbo walk over to sit across from him. Especially since Tubbo usually sits far, far away from him.
At least, he does in the cafeteria. Gradually, the other seems to have been shifting to be around Ranboo more and more-- first, it was with the English class, then he moved beside him in Film studies the next day, too, and now here, when he has a committed group of friends, and yet is sitting by Ranboo.
Ranboo isn’t quite sure he understands what’s going on with this guy.
Tubbo starts the conversation up before Ranboo can even say hello, immediately asking, “What are you doing after school today?”
The honest answer, here, is that Ranboo has to finish up his homework and study. There’s something he has to turn in by the end of the week, and even if it’s Monday, he still needs to get a head start before he forgets to do it entirely. And it’s not exactly a test grade or anything, but still, Ranboo isn’t willing to risk it.
At the same time. Ranboo knows that isn’t exactly an interesting answer, or what Tubbo is looking for in this conversation. And, Ranboo figures, it shouldn’t take too long to do it, anyway. Maybe. Probably not, but, despite himself, he says, “Nothing, really. Just some, uh, work. You?”
Tubbo has a mischievous sort of expression on his face, which makes Ranboo nervous. This anxiety is well justified when the other returns his question with another.
“Would you perhaps like to hang out with me?”
… What?
Now, Ranboo and Tubbo have spoken quite a bit. Ranboo would go as far to say that most of their conversations haven’t ended in complete catastrophe, so he’s doing pretty good for himself in that department. And of course, Ranboo isn’t opposed to having a friend, it’s… actually the complete opposite.
Ranboo thinks he would just about do anything to have a friend.
It’s just. He doesn’t understand why. Or if this is normal, exactly, too. He’s not sure how most people tend to make friends, seeing as his closest friends are Niki and Techno, and one of those is his coworker and sort-of roommate and the other is his tutor (and, well, there’s also- no, that doesn’t count ), so maybe all of this is proper protocol. Except, it can’t be, because who would want to befriend Ranboo? It’s not that Ranboo is an awful, horrible person (except when he is), but he’s just… there. Most people prefer to look at him from a distance and ask what the hell is going on with that guy instead of actually going up to him to find out. He has no real appeal in social situations, and this is Tubbo, who is best friends with one of the more popular people in their grade, so it just doesn’t make sense, actually, that he wants to hang out with Ranboo.
But, the thing is, Ranboo is selfish. More selfish than people expect from him. When people see the soft-spoken guy working at a bakery, they don’t anticipate selfish. When they hear about the teen who takes good care of his roommate’s cat and passes school with straight As, they don’t guess selfish. Nobody expects that Ranboo is filled with this void, all consuming and desperate, that wants to cling to anything good that he can have-- and the bad, too, actually, just anything-- and never let go.
Ranboo is selfish. So, when Tubbo asks if he wants to hang out with him, he considers every possible reason why he should not accept, and replies soon after, “Yeah.”
At the very least, Tubbo seems excited. Or, more-so relieved-- his shoulders slump a bit and he starts eating his food. He also begins to talk aloud, conversationally. “Hell yeah. So, like. I’d say you can come to my place, but there’s a lot going on there, it’s a bit hectic. You’d be surprised, seeing as it’s only four people, really, but, yeah. Chaotic.”
“Four people sounds like a lot to me,” Ranboo comments, because it really does. He can’t imagine that. “That, uh, includes you and… Tommy… and-”
“Me, Tommy, Wilbur, and Phil.” Tubbo lists off. “Oh, and Techno, I guess, but he doesn’t really live with us right now. And he has a dog- oh, yeah, we have… five pets, at the minute. That’s probably why it’s such a shitshow, actually. My cat’s chill, though.”
“Hold on.” The pets part- he can circle back to that, but… “Techno?”
Tubbo raises an eyebrow. “Yeah. He lives near the local college and everything, but-”
“You two are related?” How did Ranboo not realize this? He guesses that Techno wouldn’t exactly have mentioned it at any point, but… still.
Though, he had mentioned once or twice having a brother, but Ranboo never really asked him who that brother was, or what his family was like, or anything about his personal life, really. God, he’s a terrible friend.
The other waves his hand back and forth in a kind of gesture. “More or less. It’s confusing. Why, do you know him?”
“Yeah. He’s my, uh,” friend, “tutor. You know.”
“Oh!” Tubbo’s eyes widen. “He’s- okay, that makes sense. He’s never brought you up, I don’t think. But, yeah, he does that, I forgot.” He lets out a small laugh. “Small world, huh?”
“Small town, more like it.”
“Damn right.”
With that cleared up, sort of , Ranboo shifts back to, “You said you had five pets?”
“Yup. We have… lemme think.” Tubbo sets down his burger and starts counting on his fingers, pressing down on each digit with his other hand. “So, Phil-- Tommy’s dad, by the way-- has two doves. Their names are Sirius and Aloma. I’m pretty sure Techno got pissed at him, because Aloma can be straight up translated to dove in Latin, but, eh, whatever.” He holds up a third finger. “Tommy’s got a dog named Henry. He’s trans, I think.”
“Tommy, or Henry?”
“Henry.” Tubbo confirms.
“... Okay.”
“Anyway, Techno has one named Boreas. Think you’ve met him, he’s the husky?” Ranboo nods. He’s seen him before; Boreas tends to be a little loud, but he’s very fluffy, and he tends to derail tutoring sessions exceptionally fast. “Yeah, cool, cool. Then, I’ve got my cat named Whiskers. Got her a few years back, she’s real chill.” Tubbo puts his fingers down slowly. “Uh, I think that’s every- no, no, okay, I forgot. Wilbur has an iguana named Dragon.”
Ranboo blinks in surprise. “An iguana?”
“Yeah. I don’t see her often, since apparently iguanas don’t like being touched and have, like, a super strict sort of housing style, but Wil got her on a trip a few years back and the two are real bloody close now.”
“Interesting.”
“Yep! That’s all I’ve got, I think.”
“Sounds… like a lot.” Ranboo pauses, watching Tubbo start eating his burger again, before saying, “Uh, me and Niki have a pet cat. Springerle. I take care of her most of the time, though, but… yeah. A lot less hectic, haha.”
“Aww, cute.” Tubbo smiles. “I’d love to meet her.”
Ranboo’s heart skips a beat. Is that meant to be a pleasantry, or a request? He’s not really sure. He should probably just give a generic response, then, right? Uh. “Yeah.” Well that just sounds stupid, actually.
There’s a silence, which Ranboo takes with grace and immediately uses to start rethinking the conversation that just unfolded, all well Tubbo breezes through his lunch pretty quickly. Soon enough, students start standing up to head back to the classroom, and Ranboo makes to throw out his trash before Tubbo sets his hand on his arm.
“Hey,” he says.
“... Hi.”
“Can I have your phone number?” Tubbo asks. “So I can tell you where to meet ‘nd shit.”
“Oh. Okay. Just, uh, hold on.” Ranboo fishes out his phone, sliding past calendar notifications and opening up his contacts. There are depressingly few people there, but he crosses his fingers and hopes that Tubbo doesn’t question that, handing over his phone for him to type in his number. He takes it, typing it in and putting only his first name into the contact. Just before he hands it over, he opens his mouth, as if to say something, but quickly shoves it back into Ranboo’s hand with a grin that he accepts as a good sign. Must have been nothing.
And with that, he starts walking off. “I’ll talk to you later, boss man!”
“Bye.”
Ranboo watches him walk back to class, moving to stand next to some of his other friends. One of them glances back to look at him-- Tommy, he thinks-- and their eyes meet for only a second before the blond shakes his head and looks back at Tubbo. Once the group leaves the cafeteria, only then does Ranboo start walking, praying that he isn’t late for class but more-so praying that he isn’t noticed.
When he sits back into his chair, it finally hits him. He’s going to be hanging out with someone tonight. Hanging out with someone, something he has never done, ever. There’s usually some money exchange or something (though, to be fair, Techno mostly has forgotten to keep charging him and it’s Ranboo pressing the money into his hands), or some… work thing, going on. This isn’t that.
This is someone, wanting to hang out with him. Wanting to spend time with him. For God knows what reason.
And, well.
If it’s selfish of Ranboo to feel excited, then it’s not like he’s learning anything new about himself.
--
It occurs to Ranboo, once school ends, that Tubbo had given Ranboo his number, but he hadn’t returned it. Which, the other hadn’t pointed out at the time, but is causing some major issues for Ranboo at present.
Because, this means he has to initiate their conversation. He has to text the other. Ranboo, who barely texts people in the first place.
Oh God.
Ranboo does it when he’s standing outside, taking a few minutes to panic over if the internet connection will even send it, or if Tubbo will just think he’s blowing him off, or a thousand other things that could happen. He’s just a second short from tearing his hair out before he takes a deep breath and forces himself to open the app.
Breathe, he tries to remind himself. Worst case scenario, you get blocked by him and everyone at school hates you. Which isn’t that bad, honestly, it’s-
That’s not helping.
Okay. Hm. What can you do, Ranboo, in this situation? What can he- well, you could send the freaking message, for starters- baby steps, he can’t rush into extremely anxiety provoking things- you can’t baby steps your way through text messages, idiot, there’s a reason you don’t have a therapist! Him not having a therapist has nothing to do with anything, actually, but it would be nice if he could get- JUST SEND A MESSAGE FOR GOD’S SAKE- his hands are shaking, and-
He starts typing.
ranboo:
hi this is ranboo Hey hi Hello, this is Ranboo hi tubbo :D How’s it going, this is Ranboo what’s up, dude So you wanted to hang out today? Hi, this is Ranboo AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA okay now i’m good anyway hey hey this is Ranboo, from class, or also the cafeteria, hi, this is Ranboo
ranboo: hi, this is ranboo
Oh God, okay, he did it. Whew.
… Should he have typed something else?
What if Tubbo is off put by the all lowercase? He thought uppercase would be too formal, but he’s not really sure, and- should he have specified his name? What if Tubbo forgot it- no, Ranboo, you’re the one who forgets things- what if he didn’t need to mention it at all? Is ‘hi’ too weird compared to ‘hey’? He thought ‘hey’ sounded a bit presumptuous, but ‘hi’ is also a bit too peppy, and is he supposed to be less enthusiastic? Oh God, what if he was meant to be less enthusiastic? Can Tubbo tell that he’s really looking forward to this? Was he meant to use an exclamation mark? Can Tubbo tell that he’s stupid and selfish and you’re clinging to him already and you just met, God. He must know by now that you’re-
tubbo: HIYA
… Oh.
tubbo: ok can u drive
Oh.
… Huh.
ranboo: yeah?
tubbo: great bc the place we r goin 2 is a far walk
tubbo: meet me w the bus wrack
tubbo: bike ***** u know what i meen
ranboo: okay, i’ll be there
tubbo: pog
Ranboo is quick to make his way over to the bike rack, immediately bumping shoulders with someone and apologizing under his breath even when the girl has long since moved away. He leans his back against the brick wall, staring at his phone, constantly turning it on and off, and he counts down practically every single second until he sees Tubbo.
It takes ten minutes for Tubbo to arrive. Which is good, because it means most people have filtered out, but also terrible, since Ranboo spent that entire time panicking that Tubbo meant a different bike rack and nearly left the spot to walk the entire perimeter of the school for another one (but then he’d look suspicious, and everyone would call him a stupid bike thief, and he doesn’t think he’s a stupid bike thief but who’s to say-)
But, Tubbo does arrive. He leaves the building alone, looking around the area before spotting Ranboo and brightening, quickly walking over.
“Hi,” Ranboo says quietly.
“Hey! Sorry, got caught up with- my friend Jack was being an idiot, sorry. I’m here now, though!” Tubbo starts walking in the direction of the parking lot, and Ranboo follows. “That’s our new rendezvous spot, by the way. The bike rack.”
“... Okay?” New rendezvous spot? That implies that- okay, Ranboo will think about that later. “Can I ask where we’re hanging out?”
Tubbo waves his hand dismissively. “It’s a surprise.” There’s a pause. “I don’t actually a thousand percent know yet, but we’ll figure it out together, boss man. Don’t worry, I know all the places in this area, so we’ll be fine.”
“O- Okay?”
“Yep!” Tubbo has a lot of confidence for someone who has zero idea where he’s going. Speaking of, he does walk right past Ranboo’s car, so the other stops to get his keys and open it. The sound of him opening the door is what finally jars Tubbo, and he laughs before walking back over. “I call shotgun!”
Ranboo debates if he should mention the fact that only two of them are going in the car (he hopes, at least), but he leaves it. “Okay.”
“Fuck yes.” Tubbo, very happily, settles himself in the passenger seat.
Slowly, Ranboo gets into the driver’s seat, experiencing the oh-so-familiar pain of his legs being slightly squished in the small spacing, and turns on the car. As he starts backing out, he asks again, “Uh, so, where should I…”
Tubbo hums once Ranboo’s sentence trails off, presumably thinking, so Ranboo stalls for time by taking painfully long to straighten his car and switch it off reverse. It’s just enough time, thankfully, for Tubbo to finally settle on, “You know what one place that can, like, dye your hair and shit?”
“I’m familiar with it.” Ranboo’s hair is dyed by hand, with some help from Niki, but he bought the hair dye there, at least.
“Yeah, so if you park there, there’s like- there’s a bit we can walk down. I’ll show you it, it’s cool.”
“Okay.” It’s a destination, at least. Ranboo pulls up the address on his car’s somewhat-functioning GPS, and he allows the automated voice to guide him as he drives onto the highway.
The car falls quiet again, but Ranboo doesn’t feel as stressed this time. It’s awkward, certainly, but focusing on trying to get to the location centers Ranboo’s mind away from his social anxiety, and he figures that if he’s gotten far enough to get Tubbo into a car with him, not much worse can happen until they park again.
You never know. You may be one of the only people to force another person to jump out of a moving car for being so insufferable. And then Tubbo will get hurt and lay injured on a highway and everyone in the hospital will blame you. And then you’ll jump out of the car, too, and nobody will care. And everyone will hate you.
A little bit of anxiety. But not so much.
Nothing more than what he’s used to.
“Does this car have any music?” Tubbo ends up asking, when they’re at a stoplight.
“There’s the radio,” Ranboo suggests. “I also have, uh. Some CDs. In the drawer and everything.”
Tubbo grins. “CDs? Did you buy them?”
“Oh, no, I- uh.”
He’s… not a thousand percent sure where he got them, actually. Faintly, he remembers it being from someone. Someone he had known, who knew his music tastes. He can’t place how old he was, but they’re pretty invaluable to him. Songs that came out years ago; songs he still loves. From times he can’t remember.
“I think someone burned songs on there for me.”
“Oh, oh, Wil taught Tommy how to do that!” Tubbo says loudly, looking over at the other. The light turns green, but Ranboo allows his autopilot (and GPS) to kick in as he listens to the other talk. “Tommy’s crazy possessive over those CDs. He doesn’t have as many as he used to,” Tubbo pauses. Then, in the same tone, says, “But he really likes ‘em.”
Ranboo taps his fingers on the steering wheel and bobs his head. “Yeah, they’re, uh. They’re cool. I like mine a lot, too. It’s more old music, though, so if you don’t want to-”
“Play it for me, boss man.”
He manages a faint smile, at that, waiting for another red light before opening a car drawer and pulling out one of the CDs. There are two of them: one, he listens to and bounces his leg to the beat of it when the music on his phone, connected through Bluetooth, just isn’t hitting it for him; the other is the late nights where he rolls his window down to give himself a headache, aimlessly driving to fight back tears as his mind holds his memories hostage and his body fights a war it can’t win.
He hands Tubbo the first one, and he puts it into the CD player. There’s an anticipatory silence, occupied by the beeping of Ranboo putting on the turn signal and switching off the highway. Then, Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls starts up, and Tubbo shoots him a grin.
“I like this one,” he says, and Ranboo nods.
The song plays through the car, and from the corner of his eye, he can notice that Tubbo is mouthing the lyrics to himself a bit, fiddling with his phone when he’s not and, overall, looking pretty content. Which is good to hear, and makes Ranboo release tension he didn’t realize he was carrying in his body until then.
Maybe this won’t be as bad as he was scared it would be. Maybe, it’ll go okay.
Or, it could go disastrously wrong.
But, Ranboo thinks, he just thinks- maybe, it’s worth the shot.
--
The second Ranboo parks the car outside the hair place, making sure he’s not at risk of getting towed, Tubbo swings the door open and bounces on his heel, waiting for Ranboo to leave the car.
“The place is just down this grassy bit, here. C’mon.” Tubbo starts walking, and Ranboo takes a few seconds to compose himself before following, walking in a direction that… seemingly just leads down a grassy green hill, leaves scattered across as a promise for the upcoming season, and a line of trees near the back. Nobody’s at the bottom, at least, or anywhere around it aside from the shops that the two are slowly leaving behind. Ranboo can’t exactly see why anyone would go here, but he trusts Tubbo, and he just does his best to not trip down the entire hill in following the other.
Tubbo takes him to the trees in the back, walking straight through them. Ranboo follows, hitting his head on a few branches, and opens his mouth to ask where, exactly, the two of them are going.
Then, the trees clear up, and Tubbo spins around in front of him in a ta-da gesture, and Ranboo’s breath catches when he sees what the other was trying to show him.
It’s a meadow, filled with grass and flowers. Ranboo can catch a variety: fennel, white-flowered weeds, clovers, cornflowers, and a few dandelions. There’s a path splitting the field in half, but nobody seems to be in the area at all, and-- be it just a trick of the eye or not-- the sky almost seems to be brighter here. Wind ruffles the small leaves of the plants, and Ranboo looks at Tubbo with amazement while the other shrugs and scratches the back of his neck, suddenly shy.
“Tommy showed me this place a while back,” Tubbo explains. “Like, a while while. I haven’t been here in ages, but I still remembered the location. Seemed like it would be your thing.”
He plops down in a patch of grass, leaning back on both hands that plant themselves firmly in the dirt, and Ranboo sits up beside him with his legs crossed. “How come, if I can, uh, ask?” He’s curious, what would make Tubbo think a beautiful place like this was, well, a good location. Not that it isn’t, it is- just, well. He’s curious.
“Eh. It’s chill, and you’re chill. I think.” Tubbo stares up at the sky. He seems a lot more at peace, here, Ranboo notices. In comparison to what, he isn’t sure. “You’re all quiet and shit, so. I dunno. Good place to just vibe and not think, I guess.”
None of that is negative, which Ranboo thanks God for. It would be a little awkward if Tubbo insulted him in the middle of a meadow. “It does seem like a good place for that,” he muses. “Vibing and not thinking, that is.”
“Yup.” Tubbo nods. “Not a lot of those.”
“Yeah.” There’s something to that, Ranboo thinks. Or maybe he’s overthinking a simple statement again. You’re really bad at this whole not thinking thing.
A bee flies onto one of the nearby flowers. Tubbo seems to brighten more, sitting up to look at it. His gaze is fixated on it until it flies away to pollinate another flower, and he looks at Ranboo and whispers, “I like bees a lot.”
“Cool,” Ranboo whispers back.
“What kind of things do you like?”
Aside from being one of the objectively worst segues Ranboo’s ever heard, it’s also a really vague question. Ranboo isn’t… quite sure where to take it. There’s a lot of room for judgement, here, which unsettles him. What if he says something utterly stupid, and Tubbo leaves him in this meadow, and he just has to deal with his first friend abandoning him? Or what if he makes himself too cool, and- wait, friend?
You’re not at that yet, Ranboo, he scolds himself. Stop it. Stop.
Tubbo’s sitting up more now, though, and he’s looking at him. Which makes him feel like a thousand people are all glaring at him, waiting for him to hurry up and answer the question, and Ranboo suddenly can’t remember a single thing he likes at all. It takes a minute for him to compile his thoughts enough, and even then he feels like every word is stupid just after he says it when he finally musters up the response, “Uh, I like… music. Listening to it, I mean, I’m, uh, not really good at singing. And I… don’t think I know any instruments. Photography, too, kind of-- I’m not great at that, either, but it’s… fun. I guess writing, too. I don’t… really know. Haha.”
It’s a mess of a sentence, but Tubbo nods, which makes Ranboo not feel entirely like a failure. “Music’s cool. I can sing, kinda. Nothing like my brother Wil, he’s crazy good at that, but I can play ukulele and piano and everything.”
“Oh, that’s really cool, actually.” Ranboo tilts his head down to look at the flowers, picking one out of the ground and twirling it in his fingers. “I can play a little bit of piano, I think.”
“You say that a lot,” Tubbo comments.
His fingers stop. “... What?”
“‘I think’.” Tubbo elaborates. “Like, do you know how to play piano? Or.”
You say that a lot.
… Ranboo hadn’t… anticipated, the other picking up on that. A bad habit of speech. That’s not good. That’s not good at all, actually, because that means Tubbo will remember that, and maybe he’ll piece together that Ranboo doesn’t really know anything, or he might think he’s just- he’s just lying, and- and-
He needs an excuse. A decent one, too. And he’s not really good at thinking about those on the spot, because he’s a bad liar, so his brain scours everything Tubbo just said three times over until he tears through his brain enough to force a laugh and reply, trying to joke his way out of this hole he’s already fallen into.
“I mean, when do you- when do you really know that you, like, know an instrument? You know?” There’s no reply, and he panics more, flower spinning again. “Like, when do you… know it, versus when do you know it. You know? Yeah.”
It’s a horrible lie. And it’s a sheer act of God that Tubbo accepts it.
“I guess that’s a good point. When do you really know something? Huh.”His voice is contemplative, and Ranboo can’t bring himself to look at him. He’s not calling Ranboo out for being a liar, which he is, actually, he really is- so that’s good, at least. That’s something.
“Huh,” Tubbo repeats. “You’re kind of big brain, Ranboo.”
“... Thanks?”
“Yup.”
Eager to clear the air of his previous blunder, Ranboo flips the script. “What about you? What do you like?”
“Hm. I dunno.” Well, if that was established as an acceptable answer option, that would have made things easier on you. “I like space ‘nd shit. Animals. I like video games a whole lot. Music, science, yadda yadda.” He rolls his shoulders back a bit. “Cool stuff. Y’know.”
“Mhm, mhm.” Ranboo agrees. “Space is cool. There’s an astronomy club, isn’t there?”
“Yeah, I joined that for a bit.” Another bee lands near Tubbo, and he seems to get briefly distracted, finishing once the bug leaves. “Pretty sure the whole thing fell apart, though, because nobody showed up. So I was, like, the last student, and I dipped. Didn’t rejoin this year, but maybe the freshmen are keeping it alive, now. I dunno.” He shrugs. “We would just use telescopes and shit. Which, I don’t have any of those at home, so that kind of sucks, but, eh. I’ll just watch some videos of planets and stuff, then I stargaze at home.”
“That sounds nice.” Because it does.
“Yup.” Tubbo nods, content expression on his face, before his entire body stills. He jolts then, suddenly, turning to look at the other with a grin on his face. “Say, do you want to stargaze?”
Ranboo looks at the bridge of his nose instead of meeting his eyes directly. There’s a small scar on his forehead, he notices. Huh. He’ll remember that (he won’t, actually, but if he does, then… that’s that). “It’s the afternoon. The sun won’t set for a while, I don’t think.”
“We could stay out here for a while?” Tubbo offers. “There’s, like, milkshakes nearby. That’s a good enough dinner, yeah?”
It’s not, but Ranboo nods anyway.
Tubbo nods back. “Yeah! And- oh , but Phil will be pissed at me, cuz Wil and- yeah,” he realizes, his words being more directed at himself than Ranboo. He seems noticeably less excited as he corrects himself, “No stargazing, then.”
Ranboo doesn’t like the small frown on Tubbo’s face. He’s doesn’t like how abruptly it appeared, either.
So, recklessly, he says, “Maybe another time.”
That earns a grin back, which makes Ranboo’s lips quirk up, too, surprisingly. “Sounds good, big guy. I’ll hold you to that.”
He’ll have to write that into his memory book, then. That sounds like fun. It’ll have to be a- well, he works on the weekends, so there’s no real good day to stay up late. But, Ranboo has melatonin, worst comes to worst, and he’s run on concerningly low amounts of sleep for weeks straight, before. It wasn’t anywhere remotely near fun, nor was it because of stargazing endeavors, but… it happened. And it’s something, at least.
So, he’s stargazing with Tubbo. Maybe. Which means, this encounter isn’t a… once off. A lot of signs pointed to that, sure, but he had figured maybe this was, and Tubbo was just here to mess with him, and he’d go back to school and nobody would like him. But that didn’t end up happening, and he’s not sure what to make of that.
Niki will be happy, at least, and Techno, too, seeing as this is his brother. That will be nice. Ranboo hates disappointing them, which he gets the feeling he does a lot. So they’ll be happy, which will be good.
… It’ll be fun, too, he comes to realize the more he thinks about it. Him and Tubbo could get blankets, maybe, and some kind of drink, and they could sit out and just… sit there. He’s not sure what they would talk about, exactly, but it would be a nice teen experience, something Ranboo has never really gotten. Maybe Tubbo can point out constellations and he can remember them-- he knows a few, just needs to place them. Maybe Tubbo can help him place things; in a way, he already seems to be, with this whole afternoon thing, this whole hang out. Maybe, even beyond that, and…
You’re awfully excited for someone who doesn’t even know if this will happen, huh?
… Yeah. Yeah.
He shouldn’t get overly excited. He’ll just scare the other off, which is fine, but… he doesn’t want to do that. Not yet. Not now. This thing he has, he’s not sure what he is, but he knows it’s important to him even if it’s entirely ordinary to everyone else, so he- he wants to hold onto it for just a little longer. Live in a world in which he can just be around someone, have a person he’s friendly with aside from people that he likes, sure, but are ultimately a lot older than him. Just… having that.
But you can’t lose this.
He can’t. So he’ll stay quiet about it. And… and, yeah. He’ll be quiet.
The litany of thoughts fades out, and Tubbo comes in. “You said you like photography, yeah?”
“Mhm.”
It’s one of the only things Ranboo is good at, really, aside from getting straight As and forgetting everything you know. A while ago he started selling some photos, which had been a nice way to make money on the side. School’s sort of stopped him from doing that, but he thinks that he can get some nicer photos come winter. He hopes, anyway.
Tubbo shifts a bit closer to Ranboo, tucking both his knees to his chest and resting his chin on one of them. “Have any cool photos?”
“Uh, most of them are- are at home, with my actual camera.”
He had gotten that as a birthday gift from Niki. He’s taken a lot of photos on that thing that he ended up keeping, sliding them into his memory notebook or hanging them up on his wall, and it helps with his memory, bit by bit. Niki has a Polaroid, too, she lets him use sometimes. She really is too kind to him, God.
And she was happy to hear about him selling some, too. Ranboo remembers her eyes brightening a little as she laughed and told him that he’s a lot more productive than she was at seventeen.
He had felt a little sick after she said that. He felt dishonest even though he hadn’t said anything that was a lie. He felt like breaking the camera on his own head until all the film spilled out.
But, it’s okay. There are photos on his wall, and she got him a camera, and it’s one of the best ways he can keep track of his memories. So, he leaves it at home most of the time, and he keeps it safe. It’s the most he can do to repay her.
“But,” he says, before Tubbo can get too disappointed, because he really doesn’t want that to happen, “I took, uh. A few on my phone. They aren’t fantastic, but-”
He’s cut off from a cheer from Tubbo, who scoots even closer. “Let me see, let me see!”
“Okay, okay, hold on-” Ranboo takes his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it, closing out of the messaging tab, and pulling up his photo album. There are a lot of folders in there, but he clicks on one titled photography, kinda and picks the most recent image.
It's a thunderstorm, one of the ones back from the summer. The sky had nearly been split by white lightning at some parts, trees in the background snapping and crackling wildly at the high winds. Ranboo had watched from inside, the steady pouring of rain making him feel drowsy, but he had caught a photo where lightning struck and the storm clouds could be seen, rain drops lit up by the natural glow and painting the sky in a shadowed grey hue.
He shows it to Tubbo, who immediately snatches the phone out of his hand and holds it close to his face. “Holy shit!” he says loudly, which makes Ranboo self consciously look around to confirm that, no, nobody is around them. Tubbo looks at him, then back at the photo, then hands it over to Ranboo with an enthusiastic, “Holy shit, dude, that’s really fucking cool. Holy shit.”
Ranboo’s face breaks into a smile, and he says a quiet, “Thank you,” before looking for another picture.
A lot were from the same night, but when he scrolls back up, he finds one of Niki. It had been a sunny day, and the natural lighting was hitting the potted plants in the bakery and her face. Her nose was all crinkled, but she was smiling, carrying a tray of cupcakes in her hand with a lavender apron on. He can almost hear the music coming from the speakers that day, something upbeat and nostalgic. Her sweet voice would sing to it, and he must have smiled a little, and they finished cleaning up the place before she would flip the sign out in the front to open up shop, and people would steadily stream in. A day that was wholly good, from all that Ranboo remembers of it. A day he wanted to remember, so he took a photo of it, and Niki playfully swatted his arm just after he did it but favorited it on his phone.
Sometimes, when Ranboo forgets the faint shape of Niki, he looks back at the photograph. And it makes him feel a little better, a little more secure in his memory.
Tubbo leans to look over Ranboo’s shoulder as he pulls it up, and he smiles. “Is that Niki?” he asks, earning a nod and echoing that motion. “She’s really cool, isn’t she?”
“Yeah.” More than Ranboo can express, really. He knows that Niki must be annoyed by him, logically, at all his mishaps and inability to explain what’s really wrong with him-- and, God knows the day they first met, a day Ranboo can’t remember and never asked for her to explain knowing that would be an admission of guilt, he must have been even worse of a nuisance. He knows that Niki is likely glad he’s not around, or vise-versa. But, he really likes Niki, and he’s grateful for her, more than he can express and more than he can remember.
He’s glad that Niki knows Wilbur and Wilbur is related to Tubbo, in… some way. That Niki’s existence can spread around. She deserves it.
“Cool pic, dude,” Tubbo compliments. “You should take one of me, sometime. If you want. You don’t have to, obviously.”
He sounds almost apprehensive, towards the end, there, which makes Ranboo a little confused. Because, well, it’s a fair suggestion. And a good one, actually, since he has his phone on him, and he really doesn’t want to forget today, for better or for worse, so-
“I can take one now?” he half-asks.
Tubbo’s eyes widen. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, okay, sick. Uh, one sec.” He scrambles around a bit, moving to sit cross-legged in the dirt, flowers all around him. Tubbo messes with his hair a bit, trying to get the bangs all right, before he gives Ranboo a thumbs up. “Take the pic, boss man!” he orders, smiling and shutting his eyes.
He has a nice smile.
Ranboo gets his camera pulled up, zooming in to make sure that everything is framed right, and wills his hands to be steady just this once. It’s surprisingly an easier task than he anticipated, and he manages to take a photo.
He moves his hand down to look at it, Tubbo opening his eyes and shifting to look at the phone, too. In the background, there’s a bee that, by some miracle of sorts, flew right into frame and perched on a flower next to Tubbo. It’s not a perfect photo, but it’s a nice one, and the inclusion of the insect makes Ranboo smile and add it to the photography folder.
Tubbo seems pleased by it too, saying excitedly, “That looks dope as hell. Send that to me, I like the- the bee in the back.”
Ranboo sends the photo over, the data on his phone making it take a little longer to go through, before looking at the other. “It should be sent to you, now.”
Tubbo turns on his phone and, after a second, nods. “Yup, I got it! Thanks so much, dude, I really appreciate it.”
“Of course.” After a beat, Ranboo tentatively adds, “Anytime.”
He earns a smile for that, which he seems to be getting a lot of. And it’s being drawn out of him, too, which- it’s not that he doesn’t smile, but usually he doesn’t talk to people where that really happens much. Him and Techno laugh sometimes, sure, but they don’t really smile a lot, either of them, as a resting state. And Niki is very emphatic in that way, but Ranboo can’t bring himself to reciprocate all too often and sometimes gives up before he can start.
But, he’s smiling now. A lot. Which is… nice. It really, really is.
Beside him, Tubbo huffs out a sigh. “My brother says I need to head home,” he whines, and Ranboo can’t help but to feel a bit disappointed. “I wanted to spend more time with you,” he drags out the last vowel of you.
“We can, uh, talk another time. If you want.”
“Oh, we will,” Tubbo confirms very confidently. He glances back up to Ranboo, grinning, “You’re not getting away from me that easy. We’re best friends now.”
… Oh.
“Oh.”
So, Tubbo wants to…
“Cool.”
Cool. It is cool. It’s… great, actually. And overwhelming.
That last bit was a joke, obviously, the whole best friends thing, but… still. Tubbo even wanting to- like, he knew that, sort of, but. It’s good to hear. It’s great to hear. Wow, how does he even…
“Stargazing one of these days,” Ranboo repeats from earlier.
“Yup. And other stuff.” Tubbo stands up, and Ranboo gets up beside him. “We can, like. I can show you the places Tommy showed me years back, it’s been ages since I’ve shown someone that stuff. Well, maybe because I never have, but- it’s nice when someone appreciates it, yeah? I imagine.”
“Yeah, I get that.” He does, too, is the thing. And- and, wow, he feels happy. A little too happy. Even as they start heading back to the car.
Tubbo shuts his phone off after one last text is sent. “Can you drive me back?”
“If you give me an address.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll- I’ll type it in the address bar and everything, don’t worry.”
“Cool.” Ranboo manages to not get his hair tangled in the trees this time, successfully navigating back to the hill up to the car. It’s a lot more physical exertion to go uphill, he’s finding.
Once they get back to the car, and he can breathe, Tubbo slides into the passenger seat and waits for Ranboo to turn on the car. Once he does, he asks, “Can we play more of that CD, too? You have good taste.”
Ranboo smiles, again, and he nods. Tubbo clicks the play button before slumping back in the chair.
From the corner of his eye, Ranboo swears he can see the other pull up the photo of himself, looking over it again as he drives him back.
--
Ranboo immediately writes down everything about the night that he can remember the second he gets home, going so far as to leave his shoes on as he rushes to transcribe it all.
He writes down every detail, even including the location details of the meadow and the street name Tubbo lives on. All the flowers he can name, the bee, the photograph they took, the stargazing idea-- all of it. He writes down everything he can possibly recall until his hand hurts, and Springerle meows softly, and he finally closes the book.
The feeling he has in his chest as he makes himself a lackluster dinner and finally removes his shoes is a rare one. Ranboo isn’t unaccustomed to happiness, not exactly, but he tends to float on a general stream of meh for the most part.
What he feels now, though, is far from meh. It’s the euphoria of something new, the fear and the contentment and the insecurities and the excitement for something to come next. From the memories Ranboo can actively remember without referencing the book, he thinks it may be one of the best things that’s ever happened to him.
Of course, it could all go wrong. Tubbo could change his mind, or they could drift apart quickly, or none of it could mean anything at all. But, it happened. And he has proof that it happened-- it’s in his book, and it’s in his texts, and it’s in his photo album. It happened. And it happened to Ranboo.
His mind screams at him that he’s being weird. Atypical. Odd. Stupid. Clingy, clingy, clingy, and selfish, and clingy, like you always are, like you always have been.
But maybe, this time, he can allow himself to be, under the hope that he’s found a rare instance of there being something worth clinging to.
It’s more of a matter, now, of whether the anchor he holds onto with his whole body will impale him and leave him to bleed out on the ocean floor, becoming sharkbait or whatever tends to happen underwater.
That night, when Ranboo lays in bed and drifts off to sleep, he’s certain it’s worth the risk.