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Tommy sat sulking on the comfy couch that was situated against the wall of Techno’s quant little cabin. His arms were crossed and a pout had settled itself onto his lips, cheeks puffed out for dramatic flair. He had been forced to stay inside while Techno and Phil tended to the animals - namely the turtles - in the cold snow. You see, Tommy was recovering from a cold and his fever had only just broken this morning. Because of this Phil, being the absolute grandpa and killjoy he is, demanded that Tommy stay inside, and Techno simply agreed with him. Neither of them had paid any mind to Tommy's incessant bitching and complaining about wanting to help with the turtles (though he really actually just wanted to play in the snow, but only he had to know that) and had instead simply walked past him and out the door. He felt fine! He didn’t even feel ill anymore! Let him play in the snow!
He stared at the crackling fireplace with a nasty scowl on his face, lips curling unpleasantly as he plotted a way to get back at the two older men for this egregious crime against the great Tommyinnit. Maybe he’ll sneak some shitty blue hair dye into Techno’s shampoo or something. Or let all of his dogs out of their pen and watch him scramble like an idiot to try and get them back in. That would be funny. He didn't know what he could do to get back at Phil. Maybe he could just spare him and forgive him for his horrendous crimes, just this once. He was the best man alive after all.
“Why are you pouting, Tommy?” A familiar and echoey voice asked to his left. He screeched and jumped right out of his skin. He swears he felt his soul leave his body for a moment there. He turned startlingly fast towards where the voice originated from and came face to face with the milky eyes of Ghostbur, who wore a soft and kind smile on his lips as he floated just above the couch. Tommy splayed his hand across his chest, feeling his jack-rabbiting heartbeat, before angling a dirty look towards the ghost.
“Fuck you, man. You scared the shit out of me!” He exclaimed. He settled back down into the plush couch, recrossing his arms. His original pout returned to his face and he chose to ignore the question in general.
“You are quite jumpy.” Ghostbur replied.
“I’m not jumpy, you're just weird and creepy. Showing up on me out of nowhere like that!” Tommy said in his defense. Ghostbur floated down and settled his butt onto the arm of the couch to Tommy’s left.
“What are you doing in here all alone?” Ghostbur asked. He cupped his own cheeks and leaned closer to Tommy, a curious tilt to his head.
“Phil won’t let me go outside because I ‘just got unsick’ and my ‘immune system is still too weak’ or some shit like that so now I have to sit in this boring ass cabin and do absolutely nothing for prime knows how long. I’m so fucking bored in here already and it’s only been 5 minutes since they left.” Tommy grumbled, mocking Phil’s voice and adding a high, bitchy pitch to it when quoting him directly. He furrowed his brow impossibly further, thoroughly pissed off at the mention of his ‘punishment’.
An icy finger poked him in between his eyebrows, shoving with just enough force to tip his head back and pull him out of his brooding.
“What the fuck, man?” Tommy squawked and smacked the hand away from his face. Gostbur had circled around to float right in front of Tommy. His wrist was hanging limply in the air, finger still pointed. His smile was both playful and devious as he gave Tommy a small giggle in reply.
“You shouldn’t make faces like that, you’ll get all wrinkly like Phil.” Tommy couldn’t help but cackle at this, the image of an old wrinkly Philza being too funny for him to handle.
“He’s not even that old or wrinkly!” He said in between laughs.
“But he is old!” Ghostbur said, mirth leaking into his own voice. The two let themselves devolve into fits of laughter. Tommy ended up letting out a harsh cough at the force of his wheezing. Their manic cackling trickled into breathy snickers and then slowly but surely trailed off and the two lapsed into a comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other's company and listening to the crackle of the fire.
“Let's dance.” Ghostbur said suddenly, immediately breaking the very brief moment of silence.
“Why?” Tommy asked, turning his scrunched up, confused face towards the ghost.
“You used to love dancing with me, or, well, the alive me anyway. We haven’t gotten the chance to do so in ages.”
“Maybe I used to like it when I was a fucking baby. I’m a big man now and I don’t want to dance with you. Especially not in the Blade’s abode.” Tommy snarked back
“Please, Tommy? You’ll love it I promise!” Ghostbur begged, drawing out the ‘e’ on his please in an annoying manner. His hands were clamped together and he was giving Tommy a wobbly-lipped puppy face.
“Dude, no, I don’t want to dance with you. Go dance on your own or something.” His seemingly harsh words did not deter Ghostbur's efforts.
“C’mon, it will be fun!” The cheerful ghost begged again
“I’m personally enjoying sitting here in silence, thank you very much. I am having loads of fun.” Tommy said.
“You just said you were bored!” Ghostbur pointed out. Tommy didn’t even grace him with a response because he had in fact just said that but he refused to acknowledge it. “Don’t be a killjoy, let's just dance!” He didn’t even give him a chance to respond as he grabbed ahold of Tommy’s hands and pulled him abruptly to his feet. Tommy complained and shouted many profanities as he was tugged out into the center of the room. Ghostbur laced his cold fingers in the blondes and ignored the curses being hurled his way as he gently led Tommy into a slow waltz.
He did not give Tommy much of a choice as to whether or not to follow along, his grip firm but still somehow careful and gentle around his hands. That did not mean, however, that he followed along with the utmost compliance. Quite the opposite actually. He pulled away and leaned back at whatever chance he got in an attempt to make Ghostbur’s attempts to dance more difficult, but this didn’t seem to bother the ghost one bit. He simply chuckled and continued to force Tommy to shuffle around the carpeted area in front of the couch.
Soon, Tommy gave in and let himself be led through the motions of the dance, though not without voicing his complaints. “There isn’t even any music!” He whined, his scowl back on his face.
“You don’t need music to dance, it’s all about the motions.” Ghostbur argued.
“Yeah well these ‘motions’ are shit without some fuckin tunes playing.” Tommy argued back. He stumbled over his feet a few times and was steadied by Ghostbur’s gentle hands every time.
“I could sing if you’d like.” His ghostly brother offered as he took hold of only one of Tommy’s hands and grabbed onto the back of his shoulder in order to guide him into a twirl that was similar to what he had done numerous times when Tommy was much younger.
“You do whatever the hell you want, mate.” He grumbled. He didn’t want to admit the fact that he did indeed want to hear the other sing. He also wouldn’t admit that he felt a great amount of happiness when the soft, echoey humming filled his ears and quickly turned into singing. It instantly calmed him, as did the gentle sideways sway that Ghostbur was leading them through.
Ghostburs melodic voice filled the small space, bouncing off the corners of the room and mixing with the soft crackle and pop of the fireplace in a way that almost made Tommy sleepy. The scowl all but melted off his face as he and Ghostbur spun around the room, dancing past furniture and transitioning between the kitchen area and the living room occasionally.
His mind drifted to thoughts of early L’manberg, when he and Wilbur had done this exact thing a million times over. Tommy had been much younger then and therefore smaller and easier to twirl around, but with Ghostburs floating advantage, that didn’t seem to be a problem to pull off even with Tommy’s lanky stature. He remembers when Wilbur used to dance with him and Tubbo both, singing the L’manberg anthem to the two of them as dreams of freedom and independence danced through their minds. It brought feelings of home and belonging to his chest and he felt a warm smile akin to Ghostbur’s own creeping up on his face. He was beginning to enjoy this little dance session that Ghostbur had forced him into.
The movements of the dance became more and more lively as the song Ghostbur was singing went on. Soft swaying and small shuffles soon became wild twirling, erratic jumping, and upbeat swaying to the sound of the ghost’s voice. A wide grin cracked across the blonde's face and a giddy giggle bubbled it’s way past his lips. They hopped, shuffled, and spun around the area in sporadic movements. Laughter occasionally broke up Ghostbur’s song, but he quickly started back up again.
The wild movements caused Tommy to bump into the couch and smack into the corners of the furniture a few times, and Ghostbur smacked his head on the doorframe at least once, but neither of them could bring themselves care all that much. The euphoria of the moment was heavy enough to dull any pain they might have felt from the collisions. The two laced hands and spun in a fast circle, much in the same way that two children horsing around at the playground when parents weren’t looking would. In the moment they were free from judgment as the living room blurred nauseatingly in Tommy’s vision and Ghostbur’s giggly-singing accompanied Tommy’s own laughter. Tommy was having the time of his life, despite his initial protests to the idea of dancing.
Before the spinning could become too much for either of them to handle, they slowed to a halt, simply holding each other's hand and swaying from side to side just the slightest bit, a little too out of energy to do much more than that now. Tommy was panting a little bit and his cheeks were a ruby red and aching from the large smile that he wore.
“See? This isn’t so bad, is it?” Ghostbur asked softly in a winded voice, breaking off from the song he had still been singing. He smiled down at Tommy fondly, love and affection ever present in his white eyes, despite their pupil-less state.
“Yeah, I guess this isn’t too bad.” Tommy replied through his own winded panting.
He would later deny the fact that these words ever left his mouth when Techno and Phil returned from their duties with the turtles to find the two of them still dancing in the living room. Upon seeing the older men, Tommy had ripped himself away from Ghostbur and ran to the otherside of the room, dodging any and all attempts the ghost made to get back ahold of him. Techno had teased them and jokingly acted hurt that he hadn’t been invited to the impromptu dance party. Phil had found the whole display very sweet, cooing like the old man he is and ignoring the way Tommy’s cheeks lit up in embarrassment.
Tommy would proceed to curse them all out while trying his best to “defend his honor”, but it would be with a smile on his face and no real bite behind his words while Ghostbur hovered just above him, his echoey laugh in the background making Tommy’s rant that much funnier. Techno had rolled his eyes and Phil headed to the kitchen to get dinner started, telling them all to settle down now. Tommy and Ghostbur would exchange equally fond smiles as they both sat on the couch, Technoblade in the armchair beside them with a book in his lap.
This time, the comfortable silence would stick well into the night until it was time to eat and conversation started back up again. Perhaps it hadn’t been so bad that Tommy was forced to stay inside that day.