Chapter Text
Tommy didn’t think much of it, when he brought Dream home with him at Thanksgiving.
Phil had been delighted to see him. That was one benefit of going to college in America, Tommy thought. Thanksgiving break. Fucking weird Americans.
Phil had insisted on making a turkey, and Dream and him had ended up showing Phil videos of them in their double scull, the two-person boat that they rowed in competitions.
Phil had already seen the video, of course, but it made Tommy flush with pride when Phil tells him how proud he is of him.
“Both of you.” Phil had said, smiling at Dream. “You’re both incredible.”
Dream had gotten quiet after that, but when Tommy nudged their shoulders together, he’d given him a small grin.
Before they got on the flight back, Phil had told Dream seriously that he was always welcome back. Phil had then pulled Tommy aside, emphasizing how proud he was of Tommy. Like, really emphasized.
“I’m proud of you, Tommy.” He’d said, hands on his shoulders. “You will always be my son, and nothing could ever make me love you less. You know that right?”
Tommy had chuckled nervously. “I know. What’s not to love about a big man like me, eh?”
Phil had glanced at Dream, and then back to Tommy, sighing.
“Alright. Be safe. And seriously, Tommy, I know I’ve said it before but if you’re sexually active, use condoms—”
“GOODBYE!” Tommy had shouted, sprinting back to Dream.
Phil’s laughter had followed them out as Tommy grabbed Dream’s arm, pushing him towards the plane.
“I like him.” Dream had said, once they were up in the air. “You’ve got a good dad.”
“You can have him.” Tommy said, leaning back in his chair. Their legs ended up a bit tangled together, both too long to fit in their designated foot space. “He’s a fucking menace.”
Dream had laughed, but Tommy knew he was right.
A week later, Tommy sees a missed call from Phil. He sends back a sweaty selfie, and a video of Dream going as fast as he can on the erg while Tommy cheers him on. Phil sends him a laughing emoji back, and then types for four minutes straight.
Tommy frowns when nothing comes of it, but puts his phone away in favor of hyping up Dream’s time. Dream collapses gasping on the weight room floor.
“You fucking killed that, man!” Tommy shouts, ignoring the glances from people on the treadmill. “Holy shit, look at it!”
Dream pulls himself up off the ground just enough to see, and then he lets his head fall back to the ground, grinning.
“We’re going to fucking kill it in Maryland next week.” He says.
Tommy gives him a grin back, full of teeth. “We’re going to slaughter them.”
Tommy sends a picture after the regatta to his family’s group chat. He’s holding a second place medal above his head while Dream kisses his, both of their arms wrapped around each other. Dream isn’t especially touchy-feely like Tommy, but after a race, when they’re both high on endorphins, it’s all they can do to keep from collapsing on top of each other.
Phil sends back a flurry of emojis, full of smiles and celebratory confetti, and strangely, a rainbow.
Wilbur sends back an audio note of him screaming “Let’s fucking GO!” Which echoes eerily. Dream looks at it strangely.
“He’s probably in a parking garage again.” Tommy says, “Or a cave. Don’t worry about it.”
Dream looks like he’s going to worry about it, but then Techno’s message comes in.
Is that the Dream who Phil won’t stop talking about?
Tommy frowns at his phone, then looks at Dream. Dream shrugs.
Yeah, Tommy types back. He’s the other half to my pair.
Technoblade is typing…
Tommy jolts as his phone rings, the group chat name popping up. He picks up immediately.
“Hello boys!” He shouts, smiling as Phil and Wilbur’s faces appear. Techno is in the call too, but his camera is off.
“Tommy!” Wilbur cries. “Look at you, all grown up. Who would have thought those twiggy arms would be winning races?”
“Oh, fuck off.” Tommy says. “These twiggy arms will give you a free nose job if you keep that shit up.”
Wilbur’s face flickers in the camera as he sticks his tongue out. Tommy is almost certain that he’s in a cave. It’s got remarkable reception.
“You did great, Tom.” Phil says. Tommy’s fake scowl fades fast. “And you too, Dream. I’m so proud of both of you.”
Dream links his head over Tommy’s shoulder, grinning as Tommy grumbles. “Thanks Mr. Minecraft.”
“None of that,” Phil says. “It’s Phil to you.”
“Oi, Dream is my partner, Phil,” Tommy barks out. “Find your own, old man.”
Phil’s face lights up when he smiles. Wilbur’s phone begins cutting out as he goes further into the cave, and Techno still hasn’t turned his camera on. When he speaks, it’s slow and rumbling. It sounds like he’s just woken up.
“I’m proud of you, Tommy.” He says, voice warm. Tommy feels pride light up in his chest. He loves it when Techno compliments him. It’s not rare, exactly, but he always feels like it’s deserved.
Tommy relaxes, leaning against Dream as he smiles at the little black box.
“Thanks Techno.” He says. He doesn’t think anything more of it.
Tommy and Dream have ganged up on their coach.
They’re at a Christmas party for the rowing team, over at Sam’s house. Punz and Foolish have set up beer pong at the folding table that was previously filled with Sam’s architecture work. Tommy isn’t sure how he’s balancing work, school, and keeping track of all their asses, but he’s thankful for it.
But not thankful enough to not be a little shit to him.
“Come on, Sam.” He’s saying. “Just one day off. You know that it would be good for uh…”
“Morale.” Dream says, nodding seriously. “Think of all the uh, the bonding we’re doing right now.”
“See?” Sam says, smiling, “You’re already bonding. So you don’t need to have a drinking contest. At my house. When you know that you’ll be doing laps tomorrow at six.”
Tommy and Dream groan, as does everyone else in earshot. Hannah makes puppy dog eyes at Sam, who stares at the ceiling to avoid them.
“I’m not drinking.” He says. “We can all have a good, fun time without it. Look, I’ve got card games!”
They drink.
Tommy gets the call from his father at the usual time, when Tommy is normally on his way back to the dorms after practice.
Except this time, Tommy is hungover as shit, with his face mushed into someone’s back from where he’d collapsed on the couch.
“Fucking turn that shit off.” Someone says across the room. Tommy fumbles with his phone, picking it up without looking at the caller.
“What.” He says, voice raspy.
“Tommy?” Phil says, “Tommy what are you— I’m on FaceTime, mate.”
Tommy blearily pulls the phone away from his ear, blinking down at Phil’s face. Phil furrows his brows, staring at Tommy. Tommy belatedly realizes that he’s supposed to say something.
“Ayup.” He says. The person under him grunts.
Phil’s eyes go wide. Tommy yawns, and when he opens his eyes again, Phil has composed himself.
“Is that Dream, then?” Phil asks lightly.
Tommy glances down at the person under him. All he can see are Dream’s freckled shoulders, but he’s seen those enough to know it’s him. He stares at them everyday when they practice in their double on the river.
“Reckon so.” He says. “Look Phil, can I call you back?”
“Uh, yeah. Right. Okay, Tommy, but remember, if you’re sexually active, use—”
Tommy hangs up before Phil can say condoms to him again. It’s awful every single time.
Dream sighs in his sleep, and Tommy barely takes a look around the room to see everyone else passed out in a big pile of pillows and blankets in the middle of the floor. Sam is there too, in the armchair, wearing what appears to be some sort of Santa costume that Tommy… sort of remembers from the night before.
Safe in his knowledge that there will be no practice this morning, Tommy shoves his face into Dream’s back and goes to sleep.
He does call Phil back, after he’s made it back to his dorm and showered. Human again, and wearing a shirt, he feels better about talking to his father.
“Ayup, old man.” Tommy says. “How’s Lizzie?”
Phil sighs, the FaceTime showing that he’s got his phone set up on the hands free stand in his car. “Queen and country are fine, Tom. How are the colonies?”
Tommy sniffs, inspecting his nails. “Shit as ever. Phil, let me tell you, I’ve got half a mind to come home for Christmas and stay there. You won’t charge rent, will you? Because I won’t be working.”
Phil snorts, and Tommy can hear the blinker go as he turns. “Not a chance. If you move back here, I’m changing the locks.”
“Bastard.” Tommy mutters. “I always knew we should have sent you to the home before I went to college. Give me my inheritance now, and I’ll pick out a decent one. One with the uh, little old people puddings.”
“Alright, fuck off—”
“Fuck off,” Tommy says, in his best old-person voice. It’s pitched and croaky, and always manages to piss Phil off. “My own son,” He continues, “My favorite son wants to send me to a home. What will I do? Woe—”
“Actually, Tommy,” Phil cuts in with a glare, “I called for a reason. I wanted to know if Dream will be coming over for Christmas. We’d be happy to have him.”
Tommy perks up at that. He knows that Dream has some shit with his own family. While Tommy’s talks with Phil have only grown more frequent the longer he’s been at college, he’s never heard Dream talk to his parents. Ever.
“I’ll ask him.” Tommy says eagerly. “Are Wilbur and Techno coming home for Christmas too?”
“They fucking better be.” Phil says. “Techno will, but I’m actually trying to use Dream as a bribe to get Wilbur home this year. He says he wants to spend it in Amsterdam with Niki, but I figure that meeting your boyfriend will be a big enough draw to get him here.”
Tommy blinks. Stares at the little video of Phil as it flickers, once. He’s pulling in somewhere.
“My— I’m sorry, Phil, say that again?”
“Oh, sorry, mate.” Phil says. “I’m over in Luton. You know how shit service can be. I was just saying that the boys are both excited to meet Dream. You’ve never brought someone home before, and they’re jealous that I—” The sound cuts out as Phil’s image stills. Tommy grips his phone desperately.
“Phil?” He calls, “Phil? Can you hear me? Dream is not my boyfriend. Phil!”
Phil’s image moves at a frame every three seconds. Tommy can just barely make out the garbled words of “I know he’s— we still— dating— condoms. Tommy? Shit, I can’t— you. I— back.”
Tommy’s own horrified face reflects back at him as the call dies. He stares unseeingly at it, before falling back on his bed.
“Fuuuuuck.”
“It’s not funny.” Tommy says, sneering. “This it— this is serious, man! We’re not together.”
“You gotta admit, Tommy, it’s kind of funny.”
Tommy glowers at Dream, tearing into a piece of pizza. Dream smiles beatifically at him, putting pepperonis down on Tommy’s plate after he takes them off of his own slice.
Tommy pops one into his mouth. “I don’t get it.” He mumbles. “Why would he think we’re dating?”
Dream stares at Tommy for a beat, then at the slice of pizza in his hand that he’s slowly de-pepperoni-ing.
“I have no clue.” He says.
“Exactly!” Tommy shouts. “Like, just because you’re my rowing partner doesn’t mean you’re my life partner. Can you even imagine us dating? That’s crazy.”
“Haha, yeah.” Dream says, shoving a pizza into his mouth. “Crazy.”
Tommy stews, not listening to the filler sounds of the dining hall around them. Dream seems very interested in staring at everyone but Tommy.
Tommy taps his fingers against table, faster and faster until he stops. Dream stills, waiting for the announcement at the end of his impromptu drum roll.
“Dream.” Tommy says seriously. “Be my Christmas boyfriend.”
Dream chokes.
After Tommy has performed the Heimlich and apologized profusely, Dream hears him out.
“Seriously, stop walking away, just— listen! Please” Tommy shouts.
Dream stops walking away from him. Tommy drops to his knees in the dining hall, ignoring the cat calls he’s getting from the students who have just walked in.
“Please, Dream,” Tommy says, holding up his clasped hands. “This could be good. You get a free vacation in England. I get my whole family home for Christmas. It’s— really, even you said it was kind of funny. Dating Tommy makes the holidays 1000% funnier, amirite?”
“Get up.” Dream hisses. Tommy stays on his knees. “Tommy, for fuck’s sake—”
“Dream Taken,” Tommy calls out in an obnoxiously loud voice, “Will you make me the happiest man on this side of the Atlantic by becoming my fake boyfriend for Christmas?”
“Fake?” One of the other diners mutters.
“If I say yes, will you get off the fucking floor?” Dream snarls.
Tommy nods frantically. His knees kind of hurt.
Dream scrubs at his face. He stares up at the ceiling for a beat, like he’s begging god for mercy. Tommy has no idea why.
“Fine.” Dream says. “Fine. Get up. I can’t believe— god, your dad is actually nice. You want me to lie to him?”
Tommy leaps up, wrapping an arm around Dream’s shoulders. He grins, a bit breathless as he notices that Dream’s cheeks are pink.
“No. No, I don’t want you to lie to my dad, Dream. I want you to lie to my whole family.” Tommy says.
Dream groans.
Tommy grabs Dream’s hand a little tighter as they stare at the front door to Tommy’s dad’s house. What seemed like a fantastic idea two weeks ago now seems like something terrifying. Tommy really, really hadn’t thought this through. What if he fucks up? What if Wilbur and Techno don’t even like Dream? What if— What if—
“Too late to back out now.” Dream says from beside him. Tommy jolts, looking over at him. Dream squeezes his hand, and Tommy lets out a breath.
“Right. Right. We can— we can do this. Everything s going to come up Tommy.”
“I really wish you’d stop saying that.”
“Well I wish that you’d stop making us run on the treadmills, but nooo.”
“Well I wish—”
“Boys? Is that you?”
They both stiffen as they hear Phil call out from inside the house. They make eye contact once again, before nodding and facing the door. Tommy plasters a grin on his face before knocking.
He’s got this. Easy.
Right?