Work Text:
Tommy sniffed the air and broke running.
The wolves have been stalking him for days now. Lapping wide circles around and never getting too close. Sometimes he would see a flash of yellow here, tracks in the snow there. But never a full wolf, never close enough to smell them. Until today.
He hadn't wanted to go into the forest. The needled branches hung low, poking his skin as he pranced by, and the snow flurried scarcely onto invisible trails. Tommy's white fur blended flawlessly in an open tundra, but among the dark stockade of pine trees, it might have as well been screaming – easy prey here, come to pick off!
Just thinking of food, even vaguely, made Tommy aware of the painful emptiness of his own stomach. He was basically a sack of walking bones, mop of white fur greasy and matted from the lack of care and paws entirely too large to be comfortable. The North was scarce in everything, starting from landscape to prey – a never ending, barren battlefield, brutal fights emerging between the soldiers dressed in white, armed with curved claws and jaws powerful enough to snap a twig like him in half.
True polar bears, that was what they were, not the weird in-between thing that Tommy appeared to be. His teeth were too dull to properly latch onto slippery scales during his few pitiful attempts at dive-fishing, his claws useful for nothing but scurrying on ice as he was chased off by bears and angry seals interchangeably. Tommy had to stick to digging out frozen berries and roots, sometimes munching on branches just to have something in his mouth to chew on. Forests lining the horizon grew to look more and more appealing with every new day. In the end, the choice was simple: try his luck on wolf territory, or simply starve to death.
So try Tommy did. And was rewarded when he pawed at some crusted soil with telltale signs of mouse tracks. The clumsy sleepy thing startled out of its cover and sprung straight into the boy's mouth, bones crunching with an abrupt, dying squeak. Any disgust Tommy might have felt towards himself was silenced by the weight of real food settling in his stomach for the first time in forever. Tommy fumbled with snow for some time after that, licking up every drop of blood and stray piece of flesh.
He should have been wary from there on. Careful to skitter around the border, only taking as much as he needed to stay alive and not get greedy. But hunger had revealed a beast in Tommy. It stirred up every time he caught a new smell – wonderful scent of a young rabbit, or the caribou left behind by the pack with some meat still left clinging to a cracked rib cage. No matter how much scraps Tommy fed on, he always craved for more.
The wolves were wary of him in the beginning, Tommy could tell. From afar, he resembled a bear cub– and where there was a cub, there was certainly to be a mother. A pack or not, wolves were no match to a polar bear ready to rip apart anything that just looked at its child wrong. Tommy could only wish that he had someone to protect him like this.
Not that he was calling himself helpless, or worse yet, a cub! Tommy was a big man, more than capable of caring for himself. If Tommy was counting it right, this year he had turned… What was the number after seven, again?
It was a while since Wilbur had taught Tommy numbers. Some things were starting to get blurry. What was Wilbur’s favorite color, or what the rooms looked like in a small house that he let Tommy share with him. Sometimes Tommy would burrow in snow, cold keeping him awake through the worst days of winter. He tucked his nose into the underside of his coat, just breathing in the scent woven deeply into the threads of worn fabric, imagining that he wasn’t alone.
Tommy missed Wilbur, so much that it felt unbearable. There wasn’t a day where he didn’t regret biting him. Tommy didn’t even mean to hurt Wilbur! They were just playing, wrestling with one another in snow, and the excitement was thrumming under his skin so loudly that Tommy momentarily lost control of himself. Next thing he knew, he was tasting blood on his tongue, Wilbur screaming and the villagefolk chasing him away with pitchforks and loaded crossbows.
It felt all too similar now. The quick thump-thump-thump of his heart, the thrum of his paws on frozen soil, light snowfall winding up into a full-blown blizzard. A howl rang out through the night with shuddering clarity, one like many Tommy had heard at a distance as the pack had set out on a hunt. They must have figured it out that he was alone, or were too hungry to care any longer. Whatever was the reason, Tommy wasn’t going to just accept being the prey.
Tommy sprung running, from two legs to all four, spraying snow with each new jump and snapping branches as he barreled through. There was no point in trying to be sneaky now. He only cared about covering more ground and reaching the river he knew lay somewhere ahead. If he strained his hearing enough, he would hear it: the buzz and hum of water plummeting upon rocky shores. Tommy just had to reach the stream first and get to the other side, and not get caught until then. Piece of cake.
The pack had other plans. Without a warning, a grey wolf launched itself in Tommy's way. He careened to the left to avoid the snapping of sharp teeth, speeding up as he saw more and more lean shadows pour out of the low undergrowth. He hadn't seen a wolf this close before, and it sank in him heavy and desperate to realize that they were about the same size as him, and nowhere as malnourished.
The blizzard raged on. Snow stuck to his fur and threatened to blind him altogether. Tommy couldn't risk looking back to see how close the pack was, but he didn't need to: panting breaths burned his heels like flicks of wildfire, primal fear hurling him forward each time sharp jaws got too close. The pack didn't attack Tommy right away, oh no, but as much as the world blurred around them it was clear that the wolves weren't running nearly as quickly as they could. This was not a chase. They were trying to herd Tommy away from the river, and they were succeeding at it.
In his growing panic, Tommy abandoned all clear thought and took a sharp turn to the left. Wolves changed direction in an instant, appearing to the sides of him, giving him no space to dodge when one of their packmates jumped on his back.
The feeling of jaws locking on Tommy's neck had him yelping and stumbling. They roll in the snow together until they collide into a tree, stars springing in Tommy's vision upon impact. The wolf let go, retreating back and baring its teeth.
Fuck it. Two can play at that game. Tommy shook his head, fur bristling, rising on his legs and using the tree to cover his vulnerable back. The wolves slowed down into a hesitant trot. None dared to come any closer, pinning their ears as Tommy pried his jaws open with a low, threatening growl.
Take that, you fuckers. Tommy wouldn't go down without a fight.
Just as he thought that this was it, they decided him not worth the risk, a single wolf separated from the rest. It was the largest of the pack, a pure black animal stalking forward with dangerous confidence. One of its eyes glowed haunting yellow in the dark, and the other was nothing but a gaping hole surrounded by scarred pink flesh. Tommy swiped at it in warning, but the wolf must have lost all fear together with that eye, and instead of backing away it lunged forward.
Tommy shrank away, screaming out as he felt sharp teeth slice through fur and skin. The wolf landed and swiveled around swiftly. Crimson dripped from its mouth and onto the snow below. Tommy felt sick, but he wasn't the only one affected by the sight of blood. Sharp eyes, clouded in predatory frenzy, closed on him.
Several wolves pounced at once. Tommy swung and hurled one of them away, feeling something cracking under the force of the strike. The wolf whimpered as it fell, but there were already three more replacing their injured packmate, twice as much anger in their snarled expressions. Pain erupted in Tommy's legs, sides, everywhere sharp teeth could reach, shallow bites sending sparks of shock all across his body as wolves bounced away faster than any of his blind hits could reach them. When weight crashed into his shoulder, Tommy lost his footing and crumbled with a mangled cry.
Tommy sank his head in and squeezed his eyes. The wolves wouldn't give him a chance to stand again. Tommy once had seen them bring an entire mouse down, biting and tearing into flesh while the poor animal was still bellowing in agony. He wished he could remember something better, some bright memory of him and Wilbur, but all he could think of was hunger and fear and darkness that he spent the past few months in. Tommy didn't want this to be the end of his journey. Tommy didn't want to die.
A roar rang through the forest, shuddering the trees. All the weight pinning Tommy down disappeared. As if the wolf was torn – no, was ripped away from him.
Tommy pried one eye open and looked up. Blizzards never seemed to him as pretty, fresh snowflakes shimmering on his fur like silver. Tommy watched the white cloud of his breath being swept away by the raging wind. Then a shadow grew over his shrunken form, blocking out all light.
Tommy had seen many large creatures before. Tall humans, taller than he and Wilbur joined, polar bears rising to their full terrifying height. Well, the thing that was standing before him now was much, much bigger. Tommy had to crane his neck all the back to meet the eyes glowing red behind two empty eye sockets of a bear skull.
He screamed.
The black wolf pounced. The beast turned faster than a blink and grabbed it by the throat, cutting the snarl off into a whine. It lifted the wolf up as if it weighed nothing, high above its own head, and squeezed its fist until a loud crack split the whimpers into terrifying silence.
The wolf was dropped. It didn't move, just lying there, hollow-eyed, head tossed at an angle that made Tommy feel sick again. The rest of the pack froze uncertainty, pawing at the snow. One twitch from the beast had them skittering away with lengthy whines. Leaving Tommy alone with the monster that could snap necks in one easy motion.
Please forget about me, please forget about me, Tommy begged, not daring to breathe nor blink, praying that the beast won't wear how fast his heart was beating. Tommy scampered backwards when it swiveled around, but he was already pressed flat against the tree, and all he did was slash the bark with his claws.
The monster lowered itself to one knee, grunting. Whimpers broke through Tommy's lips freely when he felt hot breath blowing in his face. Up close, the skull and the crimson eyes seemed even more petrifying, but something prevented Tommy from shutting his eyelids or looking away. Maybe the knowledge that this would be the last thing he would ever see in his life. Or maybe it was the defeat, the acceptance that coursed through Tommy's veins like ice-cold water.
Slowly, the beast raised one hand. Tommy flinched, but it wasn't reaching for him. Long claws rested on the top of the bear skull, lifting and tossing it away. Revealing a face – real face – hidden underneath.
It was a man. A strange-looking one, too, and not just because his hair was a shade of sunset pink and knotted up into a bun at the back of his head. Humans that Tommy saw before never had eyes as round and dark, they didn't have large black noses, bean-like eyebrows nor fur bristling beneath the collar of their cloaks. He almost looked like- he almost seemed to be–
Tommy's thought came to an abrupt end. The man held up his hand again, stretched open for Tommy to see. Tommy wasn't quite in control of himself when he did the same back. Like he was just a witness to the actions of his own body in a dream about to be ripped from under him by a cruel morning. Unreal. Too good to be true.
Then the man pressed his palm against Tommy's.
Air left his lungs in a rush. Tommy stared at their joined hands in wonder, stumped fingers ending with a black curved claw each and hard pads caving in when they came in contact with one another. His hands were so much smaller in comparison with the man's, but the similarities were too many to ignore.
"You're like me," were Tommy's first words in eternity, raspy and hoarse and marveled all the same.
"What's your name?" the man asked in a low, rumbling voice. His tone, leveled yet so so tender, felt like gently prying the words out of Tommy's chest.
"Wilbur used to call me Tommy," he said, his lips barely moving.
"Tommy," the man repeated. "I'm Technoblade. Techno."
Tommy nodded mutely. His head was swimming. The blizzard wasn't just all around them now, it swiveled inside him too. Fear, confusion, hope – it jammed into Tommy at the same time. His claws weaved around the base of Techno's fingers, craving that touch to make sure that all of this was real but not knowing what to do with the knowledge that it was.
Techno seemed to realize just how cold Tommy had gotten, brows pinching in concern when their fingertips brushed against one another. One his hand caged both of Tommy's, the other one coming to unclasp his big red cloak. Techno draped it over him like a blanket, easily lifting the boy up in his arms.
Being held like this, safe and secure, made exhaustion creep up on Tommy. The hum of the blizzard, still whirling around them, was soothing now that he was cocooned in warmth. Tommy felt his eyelids gluing to one another. Wrapping his arms around Techno's neck, Tommy tucked his face into his fur and dozed off.
***
Tommy didn't get to nap for too long. He was jolted, the edge of the cloak sliding off and exposing him to sudden, bright light. Tommy smacked his lips in discomfort to the sound of someone's murmured apologies.
"Welcome home, Tommy."
Home . What a strange word. Tommy scrunched up his face, trying to figure out where he was, or what was going on. It all came back to him fuzzy and blurred. Tommy knew he was warm and comfortable, and everything else seemed simply unimportant.
The thing around him shifted, and Tommy clutched onto it with a throaty growl.
"Come on, runt," the voice said. "Aren't you hungry?"
The growl trailed off. Tommy was hungry, he always was, and was reminded of it by the harsh wrench in his stomach. Unwillingly, he unscrewed one eye open, blinking rapidly to get adjusted to light.
First wrong thing Tommy noticed was the ceiling. Most days he slept under the open sky, or burrowing deeper in snow if the night was particularly cold. It wasn't snow nor stars above him today. Just simple spruce planks that leached a pleasant smell of old wood, and a familiar face peering over.
"There you are," Techno murmured.
Oh yeah. That happened.
Tommy was a lot more awake now, wiggling to get his whole head out of the cloak, round ears popping out from where they were previously squished between the man's chest and chin.
Strangely, Tommy wasn't afraid. Confused, yes, but after not becoming anyone's dinner today he felt calm enough to curiously inspect Techno's face. In warmer lighting his eyes seemed more dark brown than red, and he had scars all over his face, maps of a life several times longer than Tommy's own.
"Well, you gonna say anythin'?"
Tommy had a lot to ask, but his stomach answered faster, growling and rumbling for both of them to hear. Right. Tommy only agreed to wake up because he was hungry.
"Food," Tommy declared.
Techno's eyes crinkled. "Dinner it is, then," he agreed with an amused huff, carrying Tommy somewhere further into the house.
It was much larger than the one that Wilbur lived in. Tommy was sure because he hadn't grown much since the village had chased him away. Several rooms were separated by spruce doors, broad enough that Techno fit through freely, hinges groaning when the man walked them into what seemed to be the main living area.
Tommy grumbled as he was lowered onto a chair, hunching over himself habitually. The cloak hung from his shoulders, long enough that the hem swept the floor upon each small movement. This table and even the chairs seemed to have been made specially for giants like Techno, because even standing Tommy barely could put his chin on it.
"Didn't think about that one," Techno muttered to himself. "Hold on, I'll be right back."
Flames danced in the fireplace, munching on a log of wood. Looking at it, Tommy was pinched by a sharp feeling of oddity. The room was warm, warm like he wasn't used to, but definitely enjoyed from the very first seconds. Techno scooped up some pillows from a massive couch, lifted Tommy by the scruff of his coat, and promptly proceeded to drop him on the pillows he slid underneath. Tommy was too perplexed through the whole ordeal to do anything but kick air, and when he did process what just happened Techno was already turning away to rummage in some cabinets.
"Didn't expect any guests tonight," he said, fishing out a few raw potatoes and setting them on the table. "You're gonna have to gather some patience while I'll muster up somethin'."
Techno went to search more cabinets while Tommy peered at the potatoes. They were unwashed, covered in roots and dirt, but his mouth watered all the same. Tommy snatched up a potato and shoved it whole into his mouth, barely chewing before he swallowed. They tasted bad, but not as horribly as many other things he had fed on lately.
Techno came back with carrots this time. He frowned at the potatoes – two were missing – and then at Tommy, innocently swinging his feet back and forth, dirt still crunching on his teeth. Techno set the carrots down and crouched to look underneath the table. When he stood up, one of the carrots disappeared too. Tracelessly, because Tommy was good at eating fast.
"Heh?!"
Tommy kicked the table, jostling the rest of the vegetables. Techno caught the potato that nearly rolled of the edge and scratched at his head. Squinting at Tommy and never looking away from him, he tugged at a ring on the floor and opened a hatch. Tommy had seen one of those underground storages before, in the village houses. That was where humans put things that they didn't want spoiling.
Rummaging inside, Techno pulled out a whole chunk of meat, as large as Tommy's entire head. He didn't even wait for Techno to turn away this time. Just lunged and ripped it from the yelping man's hand, scurrying into a corner. He sunk his teeth into the frozen surface. It felt like he was biting ice.
"Okay, that's it," Techno said. "What are you even trying to do ?"
Tommy whined, frustrated. He tried to pull away, wanting to bite the chunk from the other side, but found himself unable to pry his tongue away. It was stuck, frosted up to the surface. Tommy raised a pleading look at Techno who, upon realizing what the problem was, started shaking with laughter.
"Just relax and breathe," he said.
"Bish," Tommy mumbled back, the tip of his ears burning, but followed Techno's advice. In and out, in and out. Warm air melted the ice at the tip of his tongue and unglued it. Feeling humiliated, Tommy stared at his feet and handed the meat back to Techno. Then he promptly crawled toward the table.
Tommy got used to getting around on all fours. Even though it felt odd and uncomfortable in the beginning, it was much faster than running on just two like humans did. Tommy climbed the chair, further wrapping himself into the cloak. When he turned around, Techno was staring at him like he had grown a second head, only looking away after Tommy's defensive snarl.
"Right," he coughed, scooping up the things from the table. "I'll get to that stew then. In the meanwhile…"
He put a basket of in front of Tommy, full of large, yellow fruits. Tommy peered closer, sniffing. They looked like apples, and smelled similarly, but the apples that Tommy ate before were small and green and sour. Still, he wasn't the one to say no to anything edible. Tommy snatched one and bit it into it, eyes widening when his mouth was flooded with a rich, sweet taste.
By the time Techno came back with two steaming bowls, all the apples were gone, flesh to core. Tommy was entertaining himself by flicking the seeds in all directions, but dropped that as soon as one of the bowls was placed in front of him, smelling like something absolutely wonderful .
It tasted like it too. Tommy nearly spilled the stew all over himself in his hurry, swallowing faster than he could process how hot it was, and ignoring the spoon conveniently placed in front of him. Shoving the empty bowl away, Tommy wiped at his mouth with his sleeve and looked up.
"Bruh," Techno deadpanned. "Nobody taught you any manners, did they?"
Tommy glared. Techno sighed and moved the second bowl toward him. Tommy proceeded to dip his face in it too, but not without muttering a quick, "thanks."
He hadn't felt this full in very long– no, scratch that, he had never felt this full in his entire life . Tommy slumped forward, his cheek flattened against the table. Techno handed him another yellow apple, as if trying to test the limits of his ever-unsaturated hunger. Tommy had only nibbled at the fruit slightly before he was turning away, whining and squishing his nose into hard wood. He felt like he could fall asleep at that moment and not have to wake up for another few months.
Unfortunately, Techno had something personal against his self-induced hibernation. Tommy felt himself being jostled again, scooped up and propped against the man's shoulders, flicking white ear just within reach now. He had half a mind of biting it, but even that seemed like too much effort, so he just growled instead.
"I'll let you sleep after this one, runt," Techno said as they walked into yet another room.
Tommy was set down to sit on something, back propped up against a wall. A bucket was picked up and turned over next to him with what sounded like water pouring into water. Some bottles clicked together, and a lid popped open, filling the room with a sweet fragrance of flowers. Tommy only startled when he felt hands trying to peel the coat off his shoulders – Wilbur’s coat, the one thing that Tommy had never ever parted with – and lashed out, jaws locking on Techno's hand.
Apparently, his teeth weren't even sharp enough to break skin. Tommy growled and feebly chomped on Techno's palm, only succeeding in earning himself a mouthful of white fur and a raise of the man's brow.
"What was that for?"
Tommy pulled back, bristling and spitting. "For being a bitch," he announced. Wringing his hands together, he added, "and for trying to take my coat."
"The coat?" Techno asked, stupored. "Why do you even–"
But Tommy only clutched at the fabric tighter, making it clear that he would rather fight Techno than let him take it away.
"I wasn't gonna steal your coat or anythin'. Just wanted to take it so you wouldn't get it wet. You'll have it back right after the bath."
Tommy glanced over his shoulder and realized that he was sitting on the edge of a wooden tub. It was big enough to fit twenty of him freely, filled to the brim with water, shimmering bubbles lazily floating by. Memories of flailing in the freezing seas of the Arctic was far from Tommy's most pleasant experiences, especially the part where he shivered for hours in the wind waiting for his fur to dry.
"I don't need a bath," Tommy told Techno, snarling.
"You stink."
"Don't care."
"But baths feel nice."
"I never had one, so you could be lying."
Techno rolled his shoulders forward with a sigh. "Work with me here, runt," he said. "Wolves tend to carry some nasty stuff on their teeth. I need to clean up your wounds and make sure that none of them are infected."
Mentioning the bites made the pain spring anew, albeit not as sharp as before. Tommy curled up into himself, grasping the elbow of one arm with the hand of the other.
"They will heal fine on their own," he argued quietly. "They always do."
Techno made a strange chuffing sound. Tommy looked up, and found himself face-to-face with dark round eyes, so large that he could see his own reflection head to toes. Again, he couldn't find any fear in himself, shoulders loosening, tipping forward when Techno's hand came to rest on his cheek. A new sort of hunger opened in Tommy. He leaned into the touch, not caring of the claws pressing so close to his neck's pulsing vein.
"You've been alone for a very long time, huh?"
It was worded like a question, but it wasn't one. Tommy hesitantly flicked his ears when Techno pulled away. Only he didn't just leave Tommy there. Techno sighed, rolled up his sleeves and pants, and stepped into the tub.
Tommy squealed, water spraying all over him. He leaped up to get away, but two strong arms scooped him up and dragged him in. Tommy kicked and writhed and screamed like he was being gutted alive, drenching them both in the process. What the fuck Techno was doing! Tommy was going to drown !
It took a while for Tommy to realize that he was not, in fact, drowning. Techno just held him by the armpits, waist-deep in water – and the water was warm, too, not the icy cold that Tommy was used to in the north. He paused his kicking to process that discovery. Bubbles brewed and drifted from where he wiggled his foot around experimentally.
"Done with being dramatic now?" Techno asked.
Tommy scowled. Techno slowly lowered him until his feet hit the bottom of the tub. Water reached his neck at its deepest, and it was all warm and weird and… oddly pleasant? Tommy stretched his neck to look at one of the bubbles, startling and sneezing when it burst right underneath his nose. He poked another one with his claw, giggling as it popped.
Feeling brave now, Tommy dived. Water swallowed the boy, grasping him like an old friend. Tommy rolled over mid-way to the bottom, watching the light shimmering on the surface. He hadn't thought before that swimming could be this easy.
Tommy started flailing up when he felt his lungs throb, asking for air. Gasped as his head popped out of water, and paddled at the surface, ripples spreading from where his arms and legs kicked out of sync. Techno sat at one corner of the tub, his legs crossed beneath him. He looked funny, fur and hair all wet and sticking to face, but still too pleased with himself to Tommy's liking. With a cheeky grin and a yelp, Tommy grabbed Techno's shirt and pulled him under.
Once they were done with trying to drown one another, Techno had opened up a bottle of what he called shampoo. Tommy stood obediently as gentle fingers rubbed it deep into his fur and scalp, scrubbing away all the dirt and blood. He wouldn't admit it, but Techno was right; it did feel nice when claws carefully untangled his hair and matted clumps of fur. The wolf bites looked nasty at first, but most were pretty shallow, stinging only slightly at the touch of a healing ointment.
Before Tommy knew it, the bath was over, and both of them climbed out of the tub thoroughly soaked. Techno left him standing in the middle of the room on a seal-skin rug. Tommy's coat had gotten wet too, turning colder by every second he waited for Techno to come. He tucked his nose into the collar and rumbled, sad and whiny, realizing that he couldn't smell Wilbur on it anymore.
"I suppose that does the laundry too," Techno said, walking with a couple towels and a heap of clothes. "We'll hang it up here until it's dry."
He helped Tommy to shrug the coat off, and rubbed his fur with a towel, giving him a shirt to wear instead. The shirt was long, clearly tailored to Techno’s own body, and easily reached Tommy's ankles even as he was given a belt to cinch it with. It came to his attention that there was a mirror in the room, hanging on one of the walls. Tommy couldn't reach it from the floor, but luckily, Techno understood the request at one glance and scooped him up.
Tommy almost didn't recognize his own reflection. His fur was whiter and cleaner than fresh-fallen snow, fluffed up and sticking in all directions. Turned out his hair wasn't brown either, but a bright, shiny shade of yellow. Kind of like the apples Techno had given him for a snack. Tommy twirled a strand around his index finger just to make sure that it was actually attached to his head.
Techno readjusted his hold on Tommy to better support his back. It seemed like a long way down from up where he was, so Tommy clutched Techno's arm tighter, burrowing his face into the man's chest.
"You're so small ," Techno breathed out, a bit awestruck, a bit terrified, as if Tommy was the most valuable yet fragile thing that he had ever carried in his life. One curved claw moved a stand of hair out of Tommy's face and gently tucked it behind his ear. "A little miracle."
Tommy clamped his mouth shut, confusion fluttering in his ribcage and smoothing down the fur around his back and shoulders. Nobody had ever called him a miracle before… but it felt nice. He felt wanted .
They moved into yet another room in the house. Only this one was slightly smaller, or it seemed like it because of a massive bed that took up most of the space. It was messy in there, blankets and pillows on all sides. Like a bird nest, or better, a den . Tommy barely had the time to register the warm fuzziness of that thought before he was lowered on the bed. Then Techno started walking away.
It was only when Techno disappeared out of Tommy's sight that the panic truly settled in. Every shadow and every corner was a looking, silent thread. Tommy was cold, he was alone, it was dangerous to be alone–
Overwhelmed and confused, Tommy threw his head back and whined one of his sounds where he was calling for something without even knowing what .
Only this time, there was an answer. Techno whirred back in a blink, damp hair half-way rebraided, dry clothes pulled on hastily, letting out a streak of low chuffs as he rushed to the boy's side. He pulled Tommy in and gently pressed their foreheads together.
The painful tightness in Tommy's chest melted like ice in summer heat. Even the wounds all over his body didn't throb as much. Hesitantly, Tommy chuffed back, feeling just how unfamiliar and yet right the sound was.
Techno climbed into the bed and pulled Tommy with him like he was a particularly squirmy pillow. Tommy had a different idea. He darted out of Techno's grabbing arms and headbutted the man's stomach. Techno, disgruntled at first, rumbled his amusement and pawed at the blankets, as if trying to dig out a pit beneath them to curl up around Tommy better. With Techno's rising and falling chest right beneath his ear, it was warm, soft and dark, but most importantly, safe .
Tommy had almost fallen asleep when the door suddenly slammed open, startling him.
"Techno, I'm back," somebody announced. Tommy wriggled his head out of the blankets and growled.
"It's just Phil," Techno rumbled lazily, pulling him back. Tommy didn't know who Phil was, but Techno didn't sound too worried, so he huffed and curled up into a ball.
A man walked into the room, shaking off a pair of wings. They were pure white on the underside, with flecks of dark brown clear to see when he folded them neatly against his back. A pretty pattern, almost like the snow owls that Tommy once had seen at a distance.
"Mate, who are you talking to– oh ." A pause, a blank look. "Techno, who's child is that?"
Techno lazily put his chin on top of Tommy's head. "Mine," he rumbled like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Tommy had never been someone's before – never was talked about like he truly belonged.
It was a new feeling, but Tommy liked it.
He snuggled closer to Techno and closed his eyes. Yours.