Work Text:
It’s a bright, cold winter’s morning in Snowchester and the Innit-Underscore-Beloved household is bustling with preparations for the day ahead of them. The air is bright with the sounds of pattering feet, back and forth across wooden floors as Tubbo and Ranboo prepare to leave for the village market halfway across the server.
“Do you have to go?” Tommy complains, painfully aware of how whiny he sounds but not caring enough to stop himself. He sits curled up on the couch as he watches his platonic husbands run around the house, Michael playing quietly on the carpet in front of him. Breakfast has already been had and the dishes cleaned up, courtesy of Tommy, leaving him free to sit around while Tubbo and Ranboo pack up their travel supplies.
Tubbo casts a sympathetic glance over his shoulder, then turns around to face the blonde. “I’m afraid we do, but we won’t be gone long. If everything goes according to plan, we’ll be back before midnight.”
Tommy’s ears pin back nervously. “Are you sure?”
“Mhm,” Tubbo hums. The goat hybrid already knows that Tommy tends to be anxious when left alone- and now, with the added responsibility of watching Michael, the raccoon hybrid can’t help but be afraid of somehow messing up. It’s with that knowledge that he knows just how to reassure him. “Besides, Michael has been looking forward to this ever since we started planning for it. I’ve been hearing about how he can’t wait to hang out with Mimi for weeks, haven’t I, Michael?”
Michael looks up at Tubbo as the brunet addresses him. “Yeah! Gonna have lotsa fun wit’ Mimi!”
Tubbo shoots Tommy a look as if to say ‘See?’ and turns away to heft a bag into his arms. “I’m gonna take this outside, but we’ll be back in to say goodbye before we leave.” Stormy blue eyes track his every movement until he’s out of sight, then trail back to stare at the floor. As much as Tommy knows the trip is necessary- there are certain supplies, apparently, that Tubbo needs for his next project and can’t gather himself- he can’t help but worry. More specifically, worry about Michael and the prospect of taking care of the little piglin alone for a full day.
He doesn’t think of it as babysitting, no, because Michael is just as much his child as he is Tubbo’s and Ranboo’s- that’s not the issue. The issue is Tommy. Knowing him, he’s bound to do something wrong, and then bam- Michael’s hurt, or crying, or never trusts him again- or- or-
The raccoon hybrid scolds himself with a deep frown. Or nothing. Nothing’s gonna happen. So stop worrying about it.
As if summoned by his negative thoughts, Ranboo trails into the room then stops at the sight of Tommy’s sour expression. “Hey, you alright?”
Tommy looks up, blinking surprisedly. “Where’d you come from?”
“Just outside,” Ranboo says, gesturing vaguely to the door. “Looks like you’re thinking a little too hard over here.”
“Mimi’s always thinkin’ lots,” Michael pipes up. “He is- is very smart.”
“Right you are, bubba,” Ranboo says much to Tommy’s chagrin.
“I’m not-”
“Your Mimi is very smart,” the ender hybrid continues, glancing at Tommy like he’s daring him to say otherwise as he turns to address the blonde, “Now what’s got you lookin’ all worried like that?”
“I just-” Tommy cuts himself off with a frustrated huff, glancing down at Michael- who’s happily gone back to playing with his toy cars- before looking back up at Ranboo and gesturing for him to come closer. “I’m worried about looking after Michael,” he says in a low voice as the taller boy leans down to hear him.
Ranboo’s brow furrows in confusion. “What for?”
“What if something goes wrong?”
“It won’t,” Ranboo says, hand coming up to give Tommy’s shoulder a squeeze. “But if there’s anything you need, you can always call me or Tubbo and we’ll come right back. If it’s an emergency you can call Puffy, she’s babysat Michael before and she’ll be closer by.”
“Okay,” Tommy mutters. “I just don’t want to mess up.”
“Sweetheart, you’re great with Michael. Don’t worry your pretty little head over it.”
Tommy glares. “My head is not little.”
“My bad. Don’t worry your pretty big head over it.”
“You bastard-”
Giggling mischievously, Ranboo gathers his bags and stands. “Gotta go take these out, be back in a minute!” The ender hybrid is gone before Tommy can continue his tirade, and a dramatic sigh pushes through his lips.
Prime, he loves these idiots.
“Boo got you,” Michael says matter-of-factly, surprising a laugh out of Tommy. The little boy is grinning from ear to ear as he sets his toy cars aside and climbs onto the couch, snuggling into Tommy’s side. “‘M done playin’ wit’ the cars now, Mimi.”
“You are, huh?” Tommy hums, wrapping an arm around Michael. “Tired out?”
Michael shakes his head. “Jus’ want to cuddle ‘til Bee and Boo come say bye.”
Barely resisting the urge to coo, Tommy tugs the boy a little closer, wrapping his fluffy tail around the both of them. “Alright then.” Michael snuffles quietly in content, settling against the blonde. He’s quiet for a few minutes, unusual for the energetic boy that he is, and Tommy glances down at him curiously only to see him staring at the wall with an adorably furrowed brow.
Michael doesn’t seem to notice that he’s being watched, and ever so slowly Tommy reaches down to gently poke his forehead. He can’t help but laugh at the surprised squeak Michael lets out, and the boy whips his head up to give Tommy an indignant look. “Mimi!”
“Sorry, sorry!” The raccoon hybrid says, suppressing more giggles. “What’re you thinking so hard about, huh?”
“Um…” Michael hums, looking thoughtful again for a moment before beaming up at the blonde. “Thinkin’ about what we’re gonna do today!”
“Oh really?” Tommy doesn’t want to give Michael a reason to worry, but he can’t help but ask- “Are you nervous that Bee and Boo are gonna be gone?”
Michael shakes his head. “Nuh-uh! We gonna have lotsa fun Mimi, you’ll see! Bee an’ Boo might even bring surprises from the market when they come back.”
A smile crosses Tommy’s face. “What do you think they’re gonna bring?”
In the middle of Michael’s rambles about spaceships and books of ‘special awesome magic’, Ranboo re-enters the room with Tubbo in tow. Their hands are empty, bags having been packed away on their horses which wait outside, and Tommy shoots them a nervous grin as he sits up.
“You guys leavin’ now?”
“Yup,” Tubbo says, kneeling down to wrap Michael in a hug when the boy scrambles off of Tommy’s lap to dart to his side. Tommy takes the opportunity to stand, tail flicking anxiously behind him. While Tubbo is occupied with their son, Ranboo crosses the room to Tommy’s side.
The blonde turns to look up at him- with that infuriating height of his that always makes Tommy have to crane his neck to look him in the face- and opens his mouth, only for any sense of eloquence he might’ve had to leave him in a sudden rush.
“Uh, bye.” Is the only thing that ends up coming out, not quite the grand farewell speech Tommy had wanted, but Ranboo’s eyes soften anyway.
“Goodbye, Toms. We’ll be back before you know it.”
Tommy hums a vague agreement and goes to take a reluctant step away, but is stopped when Ranboo reaches for him. “Wait, one last thing.”
“What?” Tommy asks, wary of the mischievous gleam in his partner’s eyes as he steps closer again. Ranboo’s hand migrates from where it rests on his shoulder to cup his face, tilting the blonde’s head up.
“I love you…” Ranboo pauses for a moment, a wicked little grin crossing his face. “…honeybun.”
Tommy grimaces, trying to hide the pleased flush that rises to his cheeks. “Honeybun? Seriously?”
“The sweetest name for the sweetest boy!” Ranboo sings, punctuating the statement with a loud, obnoxious kiss to Tommy's forehead. Over the past few months since they’ve gotten platonically married- and even a bit before- Tubbo and Ranboo have been easing the raccoon hybrid into accepting their affection, refuting his doubts of whether or not he ‘deserves it’. They often tend to make something of a game out of it, which Tommy doesn’t mind all that much. Even if they like to be annoying about it, Tubbo and Ranboo have always been clear that they really do love him.
That doesn’t mean the blonde can’t still complain about it, though. He leans away from Ranboo with his face scrunched up in embarrassment, cheeks burning bright pink. “Eugh! Give a man a little warning before you do shit like that!” Ranboo just smiles at him expectantly, and Tommy groans. “Love you too, you big dope.” The ender hybrid finally lets him go and he steps back, only for his newfound freedom to be immediately disturbed.
“My turn!” Tubbo grins up at the raccoon hybrid from where he’s wrapped his arms around him, though he doesn’t have to look up all that far- somehow, the bastard had managed to hit a late growth spurt. It’s great news for Tubbo, but awful for Tommy- how is he meant to make fun of someone for being short when their height difference has been reduced to a meager few inches?
Tommy wriggles until Tubbo loosens his arms just enough for him to turn and face the goat hybrid. “Tubbo, for the love of Prime, please don’t do any embarrassing shit like Ranboo just did.”
All that answers him is a downright devious smirk, giving the blonde about half a second of warning before Tubbo is pulling him down to pepper kisses all over his cheeks, making Tommy squeak in surprise. “Wh- hey!” He yelps, entire face bright red when Tubbo finally stops the onslaught of affection. Dark sea-green eyes squint up at him in amusement and before Tommy can manage to shake himself out of his shocked state the goat hybrid releases his grip, trotting to the door where Ranboo waits with an infuriatingly smug look on his face. The two of them kneel down to get in their last goodbyes to Michael, kissing him on the head and squeezing him in another warm hug before sending him back to Tommy’s side.
“Bye Tommy, bye Michael! Love you!” Tubbo calls, shooting Tommy an innocent smile in response to the blonde’s glare.
“Oh for the love of-” Tommy grumbles, tail flicking in mild annoyance. “Love you too.”
“Bye-bye!” Michael calls cheerfully, waving a little hand at his parents. “Love you!”
“Have fun!” Ranboo says.
“Remember to call if you need anything!” Tubbo chimes in, and with that the door shuts behind them, leaving Tommy and Michael alone in the house.
Tommy takes a moment to just breathe before turning to Michael, putting his hands on his hips as the piglin child looks up at him, starry-eyed with excitement. “Mimi, we have da WHOLE house to our-SELVES!”
“We sure do,” the blonde says, picking up the toddler and bouncing him in his arms. “Whatcha wanna do first, Big M?”
“Mmm…” Michael hums, his chubby little face scrunched up in thought as he looks around the room. “Um… we color?”
“You want to color?” When Michael nods in response, Tommy sets him down in his chair at the kitchen table before retrieving some coloring books, crayons, and blank sheets of paper- he ends up with a large stack, but it’s only a small portion of the stock dedicated solely to Michael’s crafting supplies.
The little piglin immediately sets about drawing and Tommy is content to just watch, but then Michael turns to him with a slight pout. “Mimi, you color too!”
“Alright, alright,” Tommy says with a slight chuckle, sliding into the seat next to Michael. “What’re you drawing, then?”
“Is a surprise, Mimi!” Michael gasps, pulling his paper out of Tommy’s reach. “Don’t look yet!”
The raccoon hybrid suppresses a giggle at the offended look on the boy’s face. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry. Carry on.” He turns back to his own paper, a random coloring sheet pulled out of one of the books before them, and starts the tedious task of coloring the entire sky background blue. Michael hums to himself as they work, short tunes that are mostly from the various children’s shows he watches floating through the air.
“I’m done!”
Tommy looks over at Michael, who’s bouncing in his seat with excitement. “Do I finally get to see this surprise drawing of yours?”
The piglin boy nods rapidly, holding out the paper to show Tommy a scribbly drawing of four people. One of the figures is significantly smaller- Tommy assumes that one is Michael- and all four of them hold hands, standing on a grassy hill with a sun drawn in the upper corner of the page. “It’s me and you, and Boo and Bee! We are standin’ outside on the grass ‘cuz we havin’ a picnic! Boo is carrying the- the basket!”
“Looks amazing, bud!” Tommy praises as Michael gives him the paper. “How about we hang this up on the fridge for Boo and Bee to look at when they get home?”
“‘Kay!” Michael follows him to the kitchen, chattering all the way about what cool things he can imagine Tubbo and Ranboo might find at the market, and how he hopes they like the drawing too, and the best spot on the fridge to hang his masterpiece.
Tommy smiles to himself as he listens to the boy. Michael’s speech has improved by leaps and bounds in the past few months alone, and he’s grown into a chatterbox who loves to ramble about every topic under the sun, much like Tommy had when he was younger.
Tubbo says it’s because he takes after the blonde. Tommy is torn between feeling honored and hoping for Michael’s sake that the little piglin doesn’t end up too much like him.
The drawing ends up displayed proudly in the center of the fridge’s door, overlapping several older pieces that had been left up for an undetermined amount of time. They should probably be switched out more often, but Tommy can never bring himself to pack Michael’s work away into the box they keep in the attic- he wants his kid to be proud of his work, and he wants everyone to be able to see it.
(The blonde has never even considered throwing any of it away. The one time one of the drawings had ripped, he thinks he might’ve been more upset about it than Michael himself was.)
“There! It’s right in the middle so Boo and Bee will see it right when they get home,” Tommy tells the boy, giving him a wide smile. The boy in question cheers, small hands waving in excitement, before pausing when his stomach growls.
“Lunch time?” Tommy suggests, and Michael is quick to agree.
He decides to make plain peanut butter sandwiches (way better without jelly, Michael had once declared, and Tommy is inclined to agree with him- jelly belongs on toast and nothing else) with potato crisps as a side, and of course, for the sake of at least trying to be healthy, a few sliced carrots. Tommy looks over the carrots with a thoughtful eye before swapping out a few of the normal carrots he’d gotten with golden ones; Michael could use the minerals, being a piglin and all.
“Thank you, Mimi!” Michael squeaks with a happy flick of his ear as Tommy places his meal in front of him, and it takes nearly all of the blonde’s self control to not just scoop up the kid and give him a great big hug right there. Why does he have to be so precious?
Was Tommy ever this small?
“You’re welcome, bubs,” Tommy says, ruffling the fuzz on the top of the boy’s head before he begins to make his own sandwich. A comfortable silence hangs over the two as they eat, only interrupted by Michael’s quiet snuffles of appreciation when he tastes his helping of golden carrots. Tommy makes quick work of washing the dishes when they’re finished, leaving Michael to gaze through the window from his spot at the table.
“Can we go n’ play in the garden?”
Snapped out of his reverie by Michael’s voice, Tommy turns his head to the window the little piglin is standing through. There, in the extensive backyard of the mansion, stands the greenhouse. It’s a quaint yet elegant structure, built by Tubbo’s hands and filled with plants gathered and sowed by Ranboo. The space is one of Tommy’s favorite places in all of Snowchester, and the blonde has taken great joy in taking care of the section of flowers that he’s curated ever since moving in. Of course, plenty of food grows there as well, but the flowers… those are Tommy’s.
Michael loves the greenhouse because of how warm and spacious it is- plenty of room for him to run around and get into mischief, and he doesn’t even have to wear a coat!
Or at least, he gets to take off his coat once he’s inside the greenhouse. The boy makes his displeasure with this fact very known as Tommy helps him put his jacket on, grumbling even as he obediently pushes his arms through the sleeves. “Only gonna be a second, Mimi, ‘m not gonna even get cold!”
“You won’t be saying that when you’re freezing your butt off,” Tommy teases, and zips up the coat snugly. “At least I’m not making you wear your snow pants.”
Michael looks thoughtful for a moment, then begrudgingly nods. “O- kayyy… I guess ‘s fine.” He toddles over to the door, glancing back at his father. “We go now?”
“Just a second, sweetheart.” Tommy shrugs on a sweater, not bothering to bundle up much for the brief trek through the snow, before hurrying after his son.
He pauses at that thought, a tiny smile crossing his face.
My son.
“Mimi! Come on!”
“Alright, alright!” Tommy laughs and scoops Michael up into his arms, not wanting him to get snow in his sneakers- he hadn’t quite felt up to the battle of convincing the child to wear his snow boots for such a short trip- and carries him out to the greenhouse. A blast of warm air hits them as soon as the door opens, making Tommy visibly relax at the reprieve from the cold tundra they live in. Once they’re inside Michael wiggles in his hold, only pausing to let Tommy help him out of his jacket before he runs off. “Be careful,” he calls after the boy’s retreating figure, before turning to the flower patch.
The daisies are looking a bit wilted, so he focuses his attention on those as he waters and weeds and prunes the patch. Michael is content to run around, playing some game of pretend- that is, until Tommy hears a thud and a little yelp. “Mikey? You okay?”
All that answers him is a sniffle, and Tommy’s heart sinks. Jumping to his feet, he looks around until he sees Michael kneeling near the carrot bed. As he approaches Michael looks up at him, his big, silver eye looking terribly watery, and shifts, revealing a scraped knee.
“Oh, bud. Did you trip?” Tommy has to make a conscious effort to keep his voice even and calm, like all the parenting books say- don’t freak out, or you’ll scare the kid. Don’t freak out. Don’t. Do not panic. He is fine.
Michael nods sadly. “Got a boo-boo, Mimi.”
“Well that’s no good, is it?” The raccoon hybrid kneels down to take a closer look, humming in thanks when Michael stretches out his leg to help. “It’s alright. We’ll get you fixed up in no time.”
He picks up Michael, barely remembering to put the boy’s coat on him, and rushes back to the house- measuring his steps just enough to not break into a flat-out run. Just a quick walk, because Michael is okay, and even if this is exactly what Tommy didn’t want- his child getting hurt on his watch- it won’t help anything if he lets his own anxiety send the boy into a panic. They go inside and he sets Michael on a counter, rummaging through some cabinets to find some band-aids and a washcloth. A second’s thought has him fetching Michael’s plush chicken from the couch as well.
“I’m gonna wipe off the dirt from your knee, okay? It might sting just a tiny bit, but if it does you can squeeze your chicken real tight and it’ll help.” Tommy hands the plush to the little piglin, who wraps his arms around it and looks at the blonde apprehensively.
“‘Kay, Mimi,” he whimpers, and Tommy gives him a sympathetic little smile before running the washcloth under warm water and gently wiping away the dirt and little bit of blood that had collected on Michael’s scraped knee. The cloth against the wound tugs a small whine out of the boy, one that Tommy soothes with gentle reassurances as he pats it dry and places a band-aid over it.
“There we go. Now for the final touch…” Tommy pauses for dramatic effect. “A little magic to make you feel all better.”
“Magic?!” Michael gasps, discomfort forgotten as he looks up with stars in his eye. “You know magic?”
Tommy gives him a secretive grin. “This is a special kind of magic, one that parents can use to make boo-boos feel better.” He leans down and as Michael watches, mystified, places a kiss on top of the band-aid.
“Wow,” the toddler breathes, stretching out his leg to look at it. “It really feels better!”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Tommy says, lifting Michael down from the counter. “Thank you for being so brave while I patched you up.”
Michael nods, a determined look on his little face. “‘M a big, brave boy!”
“You are,” Tommy coos, and Michael stomps his foot.
“Mimi! You usin’ a softy voice! ‘M tough!” The boy pouts at him, cheeks puffed out, and Tommy can’t help but laugh.
“I know you are, I promise,” he giggles, “I’m just being silly.”
“Yeah. Silly.” Michael turns away, trotting to the doorway and looking over his shoulder. “Gonna go n’ get my blocks, ‘kay?”
“Alright,” Tommy says, and settles on the couch. After brief consideration he decides to pull out his knitting basket and starts work on a brightly-colored scarf. Michael returns to the living room with an armful of toys and dumps them on the rug, plopping down to play with them as he mumbles to himself about where to put the next block.
Eventually, Tommy glances up at the clock in the corner and realizes it’s about time for dinner. He stretches slightly, folding his knitting away and putting it back into the basket. “Michael? You hungry?”
Michael is hungry, as it turns out, so Tommy goes and heats up some leftovers from a meal he’d cooked earlier that week. It may not be high-effort, but it’s one of his and Michael’s favorites.
(And any food is better than no food. Tommy’s learned that particular lesson enough times to last him an eternity.)
After dinner Michael suggests playing hide and seek. While the time after dinner would normally be used for getting Michael ready for bed, Tommy can compromise on the matter just this once. They still have some time to kill before the other two members of their little family return home, after all.
“Alright, I’m counting down now!” Tommy calls, covering his eyes and listening to the patter of little hooves as Michael runs away. When the raccoon hybrid reaches zero he slowly stands up, looking around before making his way out into the hall. Since the mansion is so big, he and Michael had set a rule in place to only stay downstairs, but as the sound of little snorting giggles reaches Tommy’s perked ears he begins to suspect that the rule was unnecessary.
“Oh, Michaaaaeeel. Where are yooouuu?”
The giggling picks up a moment before cutting off as Tommy draws closer, his footsteps purposefully loud enough that the piglin boy can hear his approach. It leads him to one of many sitting rooms, one with large windows that have long, elegant curtains draped on either side.
One of the curtains, Tommy observes, has a lump in it. A squirming, giggling, Michael-sized lump, with little hooves peeking out at the bottom.
“Hmm…” The blonde looks around with an exaggerated hum of confusion. “Just where could he be?”
The lump in the curtains continues to giggle.
“Is he… over… here?” Tommy makes a show of looking behind an armchair, feigning bewilderment when Michael isn’t there. “Guess he’s not behind that chair… What about here?”
A few more random spots in the room get the same treatment before Tommy approaches the curtains. “Is he… here?!” Tommy’s hands shoot out quick as lightning, grabbing the lump in the curtains and tickling Michael’s sides as he squeals.
“Hehehe, stohohop ittt! Mimi!”
Tommy sweeps the curtains aside, booping Michael’s forehead. “Found you.”
“No fair,” Michael grumbles, “You- you are too good at fin’ing people.”
“Aw, but don’t you wanna find me?” Tommy asks as they walk back to the main living room. “Then you can show off your expert hunting skills.”
Michael bounces, excited all over again. “Yeah! ‘M gonna count, so you better RUN!”
Tommy obliges as the boy covers his eyes and loudly begins to count, a mischievous grin crossing his face as he goes back to the very same room he’d just found Michael in.
Perfect. Michael will never expect him to use the same spot.
The blonde stifles a laugh as he hears little hooves run past, up and down the hall, before finally entering the room.
“Oh, Mimiiiiii!” Michael hollers, and Tommy lets out a quiet snicker. “I hear you! ‘M gonna GET you!”
A wide smile threatens to split Tommy’s face as he shuffles behind the curtain. His tail flicks, and the movement of the fabric draws Michael’s attention like a moth to a flame.
“Wha..?” The little boy muses to himself, then darts forward and pulls the curtain aside. “What the heck?! MIMI!”
“You found me!” Tommy gasps, and despite the fact that he had blatantly copied Michael’s hiding place, the kid still seems proud of himself.
“Got you!” Michael squeals, devolving into laughter as Tommy scoops him up and plants a kiss on the top of his head. “Now ‘m the best, uh… hunter!”
Nodding along to his words, Tommy carries Michael back to the living room and sits down, holding him securely in his lap. “You’re very right, as usual.”
The piglin child hums in agreement, snuggling into Tommy’s chest. “Now we sit n’ wait… for Boo and Bee.”
“Now we sit and wait.”
Tommy relaxes into the couch, Michael resting against him as he hums to himself. Eventually the humming peters off and the blonde looks down to find that the boy is fast asleep, a pudgy little cheek squished against Tommy’s collar where his head rests.
“Oh, Michael… What am I gonna do with you?” Tommy whispers, adoration dripping from every word. He certainly can’t get up now, not with such precious cargo sleeping on his lap. No, it simply wouldn’t do to disturb such a peaceful thing.
So, he sits. There’s a book on the coffee table, just barely out of reach. Nothing to do, really, other than look at his baby, or watch the fireplace.
Tommy blinks slowly.
Well… it couldn’t hurt to close his eyes for a few minutes. Just until Tubbo and Ranboo get home.
Just… a… few…
“We’re back!”
Tommy’s eyebrows scrunch together at the sound of familiar voices, sleep still clutching at the better part of his consciousness.
“Michael, Tommy, we have surprises..!” A door closes, excited footsteps drawing closer.
“Do you think they’re upstairs?” A second voice questions, trailing behind the first.
“Dunno, I’ll go-” There’s a quickly-muffled gasp and the sound of something being set down on a table. “Oh- shh! They’re sleeping.” The footsteps stop right in front of the couch. “Aw…”
A pale blue eye finally cracks open, squinting up at the two disruptors. “Whuh..?”
“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up,” Tubbo says, the perfect picture of contrite as he looks down at Tommy and Michael, the latter of whom continues to doze on. Ranboo stands just behind and to the side of the goat hybrid, and on the coffee table nearby there’s a vase of flowers and a little bag of what look to be hand-baked cookies.
“S’okay…” Tommy mumbles, mindful of his volume as he rubs an eye. “You brought these..?”
“Michael’s favorite cookies, and some flowers for you,” Ranboo answers in an equally hushed tone. “Seed packets too, if you want to add them to the garden.”
“Mm… thank you,” the blonde murmurs, his eyelids drooping. He’s sure he’ll appreciate it much more later, when he’s actually awake. Tubbo laughs, a soft, quiet noise of happiness, and reaches out to brush a thumb under one of Tommy’s half-open eyes.
“Aw, did Michael wear you out?” He smiles again when Tommy shakes his head. “Just tired, huh… You awake enough to walk up to bed, or do you wanna be carried?”
Tommy’s eyebrows scrunch for just a moment, his tail flicking slightly where it’s curled behind him. “Walk.”
Tubbo nods, then ever so gently scoops the little piglin out of his husband’s lap. Michael stirs a little at the movement, a tiny whine creeping out of his chest, but is quickly calmed back to sleep by the brunet’s soothing murmurs. Ranboo reaches down to help Tommy up, then fumbles for a moment when the blonde immediately stumbles into his side.
“You alright?” Ranboo whispers. Tommy just hums contentedly and allows himself to be led up to the big, cozy room they all share when they want to spend time together. Yes… today was a good day.