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Blonde hair was synonymous with Tommy.
The golden child of the Minecraft household. Wilbur’s little brother, Philza’s son, Tubbo’s best friend.
That title always haunted Tubbo.
He loved Tommy. How could he not? He was the embodiment of sunshine. Unfortunately, that meant he outshone Tubbo. It’s not like he was cruel or doing it on purpose. Tubbo knew he could make mean jokes, but he would never actually hurt him like that. It was just how they worked. Tubbo was the sidekick, and that was how it was for years.
Tommy never knew how he felt, and Tubbo fought hard to keep it that way. Not a single frown whenever Tommy was the golden child. No tears when they never cared for him, only doting on Tommy.
People would forget that there were two blonde kids - not just one. One always shouting and swearing, and the other pretending that he was ok being just the best friend.
It wasn’t like they grew up alongside each other, doing everything together. It wasn’t like he was there more than Wilbur, Tommy’s actual brother, was. It wasn’t like he was hurt because his brother saw him as just a best friend. It wasn’t like he felt like an outsider in his own home.
Tubbo loved Tommy as his brother, but the other never seemed to reciprocate it. Wilbur had once asked Tommy about it.
“Hey Tommy?” Wilbur strummed his guitar lazily as the sun set, Phil in the kitchen cooking dinner.
“What's up dick head?” Tommy fired back, barely looking up from the coke can he was cutting up for some reason.
“If you had to pick between me and Tubbo, who would you pick?” He spoke with a joking tone, but Tubbo froze, trying not to look worried behind his book he was trying to read.
“Awww Will, it’s cruel to make a man choose between his brother and best friend!” Tommy laughed, jokingly pouting.
“C’mon man, are you gonna pick Tubzo over your only brother?” Wilbur strummed a chord, dropping his guitar pick.
Tubbo laughed, but said nothing. He wanted to say that Tommy would obviously pick him. Wilbur disappeared for weeks at a time, not caring if he stumbled home drunk. Too lost in his world of music and whoever the fuck Sally was.
“I would never pick anyone over you Wilby!” Tommy beamed, grinning wide enough to show his blue braces.
He shone like the sun, and Tubbo shrank into his seat, taking deep breaths to stop the tears falling. Tommy and Wilbur were laughing, turning into some random bickering between the two, but Tubbo could barely hear them over the noise in his head. Tommy isn’t his brother. Never will, and never has been.
Tubbo learnt to deal with this.
Well, he forced himself to. Every time he called Tommy his brother in his daydreams, he corrected himself, freezing in real life as if someone would realise what he was thinking. One of his worst fears was hearing Tommy actually say it to him. Say that he would never be his brother. It was better to force himself to stop than hear him say it.
He tried to separate himself from Tommy in little ways. He learnt about the wonders of hair dye, and took it upon himself to make his hair brown. Maybe then he wouldn’t be mistaken for Tommy. He was never the golden child anyway. He never deserved that hair.
Tommy jokingly mourned saying that Tubbo looked more like Wilbur now. The oldest wasn’t even there - none of them knew where he went. Tubbo laughed, some hopeful part of him thinking that this was how Tommy would see him as a brother. That was a stupid thought though.
When Tommy died, it hurt more than he would ever show or admit.
It felt like a piece of him died. He was never sure what piece it was. Was it his childhood, all those days spent laughing with Tommy? Was it his hope, one day Tommy would see him how he craved to be seen? Was it his guilt, the exile able to be lifted off his shoulders now that he knows what happened? Was it him as a whole?
He soldiered on. That's all he was anyway. A doomed child soldier somehow handed the role of president. At least his minutes man was cute.
He was always quick to dye his hair when his roots started to grow out. With time and the copious amounts of dye, even his roots seemed to realise Tommy would never see him as a brother, and his natural hair seemed to darken.
When Tommy came back, the part that died with Tubbo never returned. All his hope had fizzled out.
He was happy in a way. He finally could move on, stop clinging onto threads of hope that one person would address him using one word. It was a form of peace.
And then Michael came along.
Tubbo and Ranboo adored their son, finally settling into a domestic life of caring for the zombie piglin. Tommy also adored Michael, constantly bringing Shroud over to Snowchester so they could see him. Michael loved Tommy and Shroud. It was perfect.
Until everything came back.
Ranboo shifted through boxes, trying to find a video recorder. His old one had smashed, and he had promised the kids that he would get another one before their next play date. That’s how the husbands found themselves searching the attic. Tubbo squatted next to a box behind Ranboo, muttering something about organising this some day.
The taller man laughed under his breath, before pulling out a box labelled ‘Tubbo’s Childhood Things’. Huh, maybe Tubbo had an old camcorder in here? Ranboo yanked the box out, picking up a stack of photos at the top. The first photo was of a field of flowers, Tommy shoving a middle finger proudly into the air. Typical Tommy. Ranboo smiled, deciding there was no harm in looking through the photos. The next was of Tommy and Wilbur, their faces smushed up against a glass window. Ranboo never knew Tubbo was a photographer in his childhood. The next photo was of Tommy, and another blonde kid, Tommy seemingly trying to grab the camera from the other. Ranboo couldn’t tell who the kid was, until he noticed the goat ears. They looked up, comparing the photo to his husband. Same ears, same skin tone, same big smile.
He didn’t know Tubbo was blonde.
“Tubbo?” Ranboo tapped Tubbo’s shoulder, the shorter one turning around and smiling.
“Did you find a camcorder? We have a couple hours until Tommy and Shroud get here.” Tubbo glanced down at his watch, not noticing Ranboo was holding a photo.
“Is this you?” They gently pushed the photo into Tubbo’s hands. He went still, and Ranboo instantly shifted closer, wrapping his tail around Tubbo’s waist. They were about to speak when Tubbo interrupted.
“Yep… I never told you I’m a natural blonde, though… my hair has kinda darkened naturally too.” Tubbo sighed, handing the photo back to Ranboo and turning back to the box he was rifling through.
“Why did you dye your hair?” Ranboo uncurled his tail, but hovered next to their husband.
Tubbo dryly laughed. “In short, I gave up on trying to be Tommy’s brother and settled as his best friend.”
Ranboo placed a hand on the shorter man’s shoulder, trying to comfort him silently.
“It doesn’t matter Boo, let's get back to finding that camcorder.”
Ranboo paused, clearly wanting to know more but understanding Tubbo wasn’t ready. The couple could read each other like books in moments like that. Ranboo knew Tubbo may never tell him, but they would never overstep his husband’s boundaries like that. Tubbo would do the same for him. They could try asking Tommy later… but they had to find that camcorder first.
Tommy knocked on the door, holding one of Shroud's hands. The child was very excited, stimming as the familiar thumps of Tubbo and Michael rushing down the stairs grew louder. The door flung open to an excited Michael, who grabbed the other kid and rushed inside to play together. Tubbo laughed as the two raced by him, before looking up at Tommy.
“Come on in, boss man. Ran’s cooking up some hotdogs now.”
Tommy laughed as he stepped in, stomping snow off his shoes and taking his coat off.. “Oh god- don’t tell me he’s making it American style.”
Tubbo closed the door, grinning. “Oh you are going to suffer!”
The two laughed as they walked to the living room, waving to Ranboo in the kitchen as they sat on the couch. The kids played in the corner, Michael showing off Ranboo’s old Rubik’s cube that he had stolen. They chatted about nothing, with Ranboo joining them and providing… edible hotdogs.
At some point, Michael looked over and waved his arms. “Dada! Papa! Tommsy!”
Shroud held up the now solved Rubik's cube, and Ranboo’s eyes lit up in delight. “Tommy! You have a genius on your hands. I must now take Shroud in as my pupil and teach the ways of the Rubik’s cube…”
The kids cracked up, Tommy smiling and Tubbo rolling his eyes fondly. Tommy took the cube from Shroud, studying it. “I do have a genius on my hands… but I’d be an idiot to let Shroud be your pupil. I know your ways Ranboo. You’d try to indoctrinate my child with your stupid American-ness.”
Tubbo and Ranboo burst out laughing, Michael snorting. Shroud looked up at Tommy, confused and signing. ‘What does that mean?’
Tommy wiped tears from his eyes, smiling. “It means that Uncle Ranboo wants to make you American.”
Shroud made a gag face, and Tommy nodded in approval.
Ranboo looked at Tommy for a second, before smiling and sniffling. “Uncle Ranboo?”
Tommy looked at the taller man, his brow creasing with worry. “Oh fuck, should I not let Shroud call you that? Sorry boob man.”
Tubbo grabbed a tissue, passing it to Ranboo, whose grin grew. “No no no! That’s so cute… we’ve let Michael call you just Tommy, but do you want to be Uncle Tommy?”
Tubbo schooled his face to be as neutral as possible. Tommy looked anxious. “I mean, if big man Mike wants to…”
The (barely, they were all still 17) adults looked to Michael, who nodded vigorously and cheered. “Uncle Tommsy!”
They all laughed, Tubbo hoping his laugh didn’t sound too forced. Never, after all this time, did he think this would happen.
Tommy clapped his hands and grinned. “You are basically my brother in law anyway, Ranboo, and Tubbo…”
Tubbo looked up to see Tommy staring right at him. The eye contact was intense, Ranboo even felt mildly uncomfortable despite not even being looked at.
It was Tubbo who spoke first.
“After all these years… who would have thought?”
Tommy tilted his head like a confused animal. “What do you mean…?”
Tubbo looked at Ranboo, speaking volumes through his eyes. Ranboo was glad he could stand Tubbo’s looks, as they were able to develop communication. And Ranboo knew this was their queue to leave.
The tallest turned to the kids. “Who wants snacks?”
They both turned to him, getting up and following Ranboo to the kitchen. It was close enough that Ranboo could probably hear a bit of the conversation in the living room, but their half deaf son wouldn’t hear, and would block Shroud’s ears with conversations about which wooden block was the best to build with.
Tommy looked at Tubbo, who looked like he aged a few years in just a few seconds.
“Tommy, are you still this oblivious?”
Tommy didn’t know if he should be offended. “Just talk to me Tubbo. I know you’re trying to beat around the bush.”
Tubbo took a deep breath, avoiding eye contact as he watched his fingers fidget in his lap. “When we grew up, I tried to be your brother. You were my everything, but I was just your friend. Don’t get me wrong, I was happy to be your friend, but I needed that- that validation. That I meant as much to you as Wilbur did. He was your family by blood, and I tried for years to be better than him, so I could be your brother. So I could matter more than the guy who you adored despite him constantly being shit…”
He stuttered as he tried to continue speaking, having to pause to recollect himself before continuing. “You were the golden child Tommy. I lived in your shadow as your best friend, your sidekick. Hell- people always mistook me for you because we were both blonde. I thought you’d eventually see me as your brother, and I wouldn’t be your sidekick anymore. But you never did.”
Tubbo finished with a shaky voice, but he shed no tears. He risked looking up at Tommy, who seemed to be holding back tears.
“Tubbo… I never meant for it to be like that. We can try this again if you want? I’ve seen you for a while as my brother, and I’d be more than happy if you wanted me to call you my brother.”
Tubbo smiled sadly. “Thanks Tom… I do appreciate it, but that ship sailed long ago. We’ve left it too late. I’m sorry.”
The room fell into a tense silence. Tommy was unsure how to respond.
“Was that why you dyed your hair?”
“Huh?” Tubbo looked up, confused for a second.
“You said people mistook you for me.”
“Well, partially. It also was a reminder of you. The brother I never had. I needed to separate myself from you I guess…”
“Oh.”
Ranboo was heard faintly through the walls, laughing with the kids.
“How do I fix this Tubbo? I need to make this right.”
Tubbo laughed dryly. “Tommy- this isn’t something to be fixed. Well it did need to be, years ago, but not anymore. I’m better now. We just keep living. You can be Michael’s uncle and I can be Shroud’s. If you want, Ranboo would probably be willing to be your brother. I’m done though. I love you, but it’s been too long.”
Tommy swallowed, nodding nervously.
“Ok… I’m gonna grab a glass of water and then head home. It’s getting late.”
Tubbo nodded, watching Tommy walk into the kitchen.
Ranboo looked at Tommy, who clearly was lost in thought and on autopilot. The blonde grabbed a glass of water before looking at Ranboo.
“You okay Tommy?”
Tommy nodded, clearly not sure. “I- I’ll figure it out.”
Ranboo nodded back, helping Shroud off the barstool and letting Tommy take his hand.
When the group walked into the living room, Tubbo stood by the door, holding Tommy’s coat for him. Ranboo could tell Tubbo was hiding how he was feeling, but the questions about that could come later. The kids waved goodbye as Tommy put his boots on and took his coat from Tubbo.
“I love you Tommy.” Tubbo whispered as the blonde stepped through the door.
Tommy paused, nodding slightly. “Love you too Tubs…”