More Than Enemies [Slow Updates]

20

//TOMMY POV//

"I can't believe he'd do this again," Dream muttered, his voice drifting through the house. "He had been doing so well."

Tommy sat by the staircase, his head leaned against the white wall. Ranboo had been upstairs for almost an hour. The noise of running water had stopped a while ago, but music echoed down from upstairs. Dream had said that it was best to wait until Ranboo came down. So Tommy eavesdropped on Dream and Gogy's conversation as they sat in the livingroom.

"I know. But the kid has been through a lot," George sighed, sounding just as disappointed as Dream did. "With your father, the move, and not to mention his life before you and your dad found him. He... I'm not saying that he should continue doing this, but he needs some kind of outlet."

"I know," Dream grumbled. "After he met Bill, I thought things were getting better but... I don't know. He needs someone there for him who understands, but..."

Dream's barely audible speaking now turned to a hushed whisper, and Tommy couldn't make out the words.

Tommy pulled his knees up to his chest, trying to hear if Ranboo was moving around or muttering to himself. Or anything really.

He shook his head. Maybe he should've just gone with Wilbur and Techno. But he had been so worried about Ranboo, and he honestly still was.

"Stupid American," Tommy grumbled. "Never fucking should've given you a chance."

He dug his nails into his bare forearm. All the time he had spent trying to push that dumb jock away, only for it to completely backfire. Now he was the one hovering, waiting for Ranboo to say something, stealing quick glances during class, and searching for the guy's face anytime he went out. God, it was pathetic. He was pathetic.

Ranboo didn't even want anything to do with him. Why would he? Tommy treated him like shit and there wasn't even a reason behind it.

But Tommy knew the voice in his head was wrong. Ranboo had told him that he wanted to be close with him, and Tommy could tell that it had been the truth. Something in the way his voice wavered and his eyes locked onto Tommy with that vulnerable look in them.

But how could he forgive him so easily? Tommy treated him horribly. And why? Because he was afraid. He was afraid to trust anyone, to grow close to the American, and to let himself fall for him. Ranboo kept asking over and over what he had done to make Tommy hate him, but the ugly truth was- Tommy didn't hate him.

The first day of highschool. Tommy had been hanging with Tubbo, as usual, and then he heard someone whisper. Three words.

"Who is that?"

God, Ranboo had had a glow up. No more scrawny scared boy who cowered behind a mask and sunglasses. No, he had ditched the coverings and shown everyone that he was a fucking model. Tall, well-built, and goddamn gorgeous. Not only that, but he was charismatic. He acted so kind and considerate, and that smile- uhg! It made Tommy's heart flutter in a way that made the Brit want to carve the thing out of his chest.

Since then, Tommy had done everything to stop himself from getting to know Ranboo. He knew he would get his heart crushed in an instant if he ever let himself fall. But now....

Tommy focused his gaze to the top of the stairwell.

The music had stopped.

A door opened and a few moments later, a tall figure stood on the top step, staring down at Tommy. Tommy shot to his feet, but tried to seem indifferent.

"Finally decide to stop ignoring us, have ya?" Tommy asked, folding his arms across his chest. He knew Dream and George could hear him and he glanced over his shoulder to see if they had emerged from the living room. They hadn't.

Tommy dropped his condescending stance a bit and put his hands in his pockets. Ranboo didn't move. He just stared at the Brit.

"Why are you looking at me like that, you twat?" Tommy sneered.

Ranboo blinked at him, still silent. Tommy felt his stomach drop, something was wrong.

"R-Ranboo? You good, mate?" Tommy asked, putting his foot on the first step, ready to run to the brunette if he needed to.

Ranboo shook his head, pressing his eyes shut. Tommy darted up the stairs, grabbing Ranboo by the shoulders as soon as he reached him.

"What's wrong? Are you alright?" Tommy asked, his eyebrows drawn together. He felt his heart pounding against his chest as he waited for Ranboo to answer.

A small smile crossed the American's lips as he cracked his eyes open.

"So you do care about me," Ranboo whispered.

Tommy released him, heat flooding his face.

"N-no!" Tommy shouted, defensive. "I just didn't want your brother on my fucking back. He already hates me and he will fucking beat my ass if I let you sit there and I dunno pass out or somethin'."

Ranboo flinched, whether it was from Tommy's volume or his words, he wasn't sure. Probably both.

Tommy immediately felt bad, realizing he had lashed out again. He was kind of screwing things up. This was his last chance to say anything before school started up again.

"I... look, Ranboo," Tommy said with a sigh, "I'm sorry that I ditched you last night, I didn't know."

Ranboo pressed his lips into a thin line, his eyes foggy as he stared at the Brit.

"Yeah you did."

Tommy looked at the ground, a sharp pain shooting through his chest. He had known. He didn't know how bad it was, but Dream had told him that Ranboo wasn't supposed to have alcohol. And Tommy didn't stop him.

"I'm sorry," Tommy whispered.

"Yeah? Well I don't believe you," Ranboo muttered, looking over Tommy's shoulder. "I don't know which one is a facade, Tommy. Do you hate me, or do you care about me? You switch so fast between the two that sometimes I think you don't even know the answer to that."

Tommy was silent, his heart cold and his breathing shallow. He felt a lump in his throat and tried to swallow it, but it only led to tears welling up in his eyes. What was he supposed to say? That he was in love with the brunette? Like hell.

"Fuck you. I'm going home," Tommy growled, turning on his heel to prevent Ranboo from seeing the tears stream down his face. "Get your shit together and when you stop being a prick maybe I'll know the answer."

He stormed out the door, not waiting for a response.

The ground was damp from morning dew, and the concrete glistened in the light of the sun. Tommy's Converse were dirt streaked and the left one was coming untied. The thread near the base of the shoe was fraying and the white toes were scuffed and marked.

"Stupid fucking idiot," Tommy grumbled as he walked down the streets alone. "Why did I yell at him? He hadn't done anything. Why do I have to like him?"

Tommy listened to the sound of the birds and the distant honks of cars as the sleeping city stirred to life. He didn't know how to get back to his house from the Endersons' place, but if he could just make it to downtown, he could catch a taxi back home.

But just as he reached the busier areas of the city, a familiar voice called his name.

"Tommy?"

Shit.

《——♡——\0/——♡——》

Well hello there 👀
I wonder if any of y'all are still alive