Work Text:
A little over a year had passed since Techno and Tommy had finally moved out of their childhood home. Techno had turned 18 the previous month, and Tommy 17 just a few months before. They were happy in the apartment, Techno passing his A-levels with flying colours and now waiting to hear back from some of the nearby universities. Ranboo, Tommy, and Tubbo were all still studying and almost finished with their first year of sixth form. The four of them were closer than ever, despite how awkward it had been at first with the unexpected addition of Techno to the already cramped apartment.
This particular Saturday in mid-July saw Tommy sprawled across the sofa, head resting in Techno’s lap as the older carded gently through his golden hair. Ranboo was sat on the armchair, flicking through Netflix with a bored expression, and Tubbo could be heard attempting to make popcorn in the kitchen. It was peaceful. Well, as close as you could get with four teenagers in a house, one rather prone to blowing things up. To say it was a change from Phil’s house would be an understatement. Tubbo could be heard banging around in the kitchen, occasionally swearing as he tried to reach the top cupboards. Ranboo hummed as they scrolled through film options. Quiet, but in a… domestic way, none of the frigid silence that had inhabited Phil’s. The extent of the change wasn’t quite realised until two weeks after the move, when Ranboo, with twinkling eyes and a smile that suggested he knew exactly what they were doing, suggested that they should ‘watch a film together, like family bonding’ and Tommy had almost burst into tears.
That day they’d watched Up.
It had soon become a weekly tradition, each Saturday they would sit down and someone would pick out a film. This time was Ranboo’s turn, but they hadn’t found one he liked yet. He was still scrolling when Tubbo re-entered the room, attempting to balance four bowls of popcorn in his hands. Tommy jumped up, earning a disgruntled hum from Techno, to grab two of the bowls before they fell. Tubbo plonked himself down on the arm of Ranboo’s chair and handed them some popcorn, swinging his legs across the chair much to the chagrin of the taller teen. Before Tommy could sit back down, however, a sharp, persistent knock came from the front door. The blonde groaned loudly and cast an eye around the room pleadingly. Tubbo smirked, and jokingly called out, “Sorry bossman, we’re all comfy here. You gotta go get it.”
Tommy flipped the trio off as he exited the room, eliciting a snort from Techno and being pelted with popcorn by Tubbo. Grumbling, he trudged down the hall. He hated answering the door, when there could be literally anyone on the other side. A murderer, burglar, or even, god forbid, Phil. Still. Over a year had passed and none of the above had shown up so far. He could never be too cautious though. Tommy was still lost in thought as he slid lock away, barely glancing up as he pulled open the door. “We won’t buy anything if that’s-”
----
His brother had been gone barely 30 seconds, which objectively wasn’t very long, but the hallway was pretty small and Tommy hadn’t yet returned. Now, Techno wouldn’t say he had separation anxiety when it came to his brother, but he was definitely… worried. Which was stupid. Tommy was 17 for Christ’s sake, he could go open a door on his own. He was fine.
“Techno! Techno get over here! Now!”
Or not.
The sound of Ranboo clicking the remote was interrupted by Tommy’s frantic call. He sounded panicked, and Techno shot to his feet immediately. Closely followed by Tubbo and Ranboo, he almost sprinted towards the hallway, mind racing with scenarios.
Was someone trying to get in? Maybe there was a strange package no one ordered? Maybe Phil had somehow found their address? Maybe-
Techno’s brain was rudely cut off as he skidded to a halt, staring unblinking at the doorway, and the figure that stood awkwardly inside it. There, by the door, his brown hair slightly longer and messier than Techno remembered, stood his brother.
Wilbur. His older brother. His older brother, who he hadn’t seen in more than a year. His older brother, who shouldn’t know this address. His older brother, who was now shuffling from foot to foot in the doorway and scratching nervously at his arm.
What. What the fuck. Techno was really lost, and he voiced that confusion. “Wha… Heh? Why are you here? Nope, never mind that actually, how’re you here? Who gave you this address?” Techno momentarily considered the pair of teenagers stood behind him, a searing betrayal coursing through him, but one look over his shoulder at Ranboo’s thunderous expression and Tubbo’s folded arms and poisonous glare quickly dismissed that thought. He turned back to his two brothers. Or, perhaps more accurately, his brother and Wilbur.
Did Wilbur deserve the title of brother anymore? He certainly hadn’t acted as one for quite some years, even before they left. Techno remembered Tommy’s 13th birthday, the day he realised their family truly had split right in half. Phil had forgotten, and Wilbur had simply rolled his eyes and told Techno to grow up when he started shouting at Phil. Whenever he felt even a grain of sympathy for either of the people he used to live with, Techno thought back to that day and his blood boiled.
No, he decided with certainty, Wilbur did not deserve the title of brother.
Realising they’d just been standing in the hallway for some minutes now, Techno moved to cross his arms and stare apathetically at the man stood in the doorway. Said man coughed awkwardly and attempted a laugh that lacked any hint of humour. “Hey, Tech.” He raised a hand and gave a sheepish smile. “Been a while, yeah? Just figured I’d come by and see my br… see you guys after all this time.” Wilbur ran a hand through his hair and glanced around the hall, clearly unnerved but seemingly not quite surprised by the frosty welcome.
Raising an eyebrow, Techno pulled Tommy away from the door and to his side as he scoffed. “Wilbur. I’ll ask again, what’re you doin’ here?”
“I- Like I said, just wanted to say hi. I was just in the area, y’know?” Wilbur muttered lamely and stared intently at the floor like it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. Techno looked to Tommy, quirking an eyebrow in a silent question.
Do we let him in?
The younger sighed and glanced behind to where the rest of their household, borderline family, scratch that, family, were still glaring daggers at Wilbur. He seemed to think a little, and eyed the man with barely concealed dislike. Looking to Techno, he sighed again, nodded and turned back into the living room. Tubbo followed close behind, resting a hand on his friend's shoulder and looking slightly confused. Ranboo hung back, still staring menacingly, and stood hovering in the space between the living room and the hall. Techno turned back to Wilbur, and, giving him one last disdainful look, jerked his head towards the living room.
“Come in then.” he spoke gruffly, steering Ranboo back to the armchair and hearing Wilbur close the door behind him. Tommy was curled into Techno’s usual spot on the sofa, but he didn’t ask the blonde to move. Instead he just leaned against the arm, gesturing to the only spare chair as indication as to where he expected Wilbur to sit.
Surveying the man he’d shared a house with for over a decade, Techno noticed both the changes and what had stayed the same. His eye bags were just as prominent as ever, the pads of his fingers still calloused from the guitar. He still wore the same jacket, although there were a few new pins, as well as some he recognised, like the Hamilton one and a Los Campesinos one. He had new glasses, and his dark hair was more tangled and unkempt than Techno remembered. He was slightly hunched in his seat, looking around the room uncomfortably and adamantly refusing to look Techno in the eyes. He sat differently, nothing like the arrogant teenager that Techno remembered, and that realisation gave him a spark of unwanted and uncontrolled hope that maybe, just maybe, the tall man sitting awkwardly slouched on the edge of the chair could be his brother again.
Techno stared at the older teenager, almost relishing in the excruciating silence and letting it drag on for almost another minute. Eventually, however, he spoke.
“Soo…” Techno drawled, suppressing a grin at the clear unease Wilbur displayed. His voice practically dripped with sarcasm as he next spoke, purposefully crushing the little embers of hope under his shoe before they could catch. “ Brother, why’d you come here? More importantly, how’d you get the address? And does Phil have it?”
He tried to keep his voice steady and deadpan, completely devoid of emotion. Judging by the almost impermeable stiffness of the air, he was succeeding. After a few seconds of tense silence and shuffling, during which Techno could almost hear the silent conversation between the three younger teens, Tommy stood up dramatically and grabbed Ranboo by the arm, causing Wilbur to jump and twist in his seat. “C’mon boob boy! We’re gonna go make hot chocolate!” The blonde dragged the taller boy towards the kitchen, and could be heard muttering venomously even as the door closed behind the pair. Wilbur eyed the four mugs of hot chocolate that were already sitting on the table, no doubt cold after being left untouched for at least a half hour.
The man opened and closed his mouth a few times, seemingly at a loss for words.
Maybe he really has changed , Techno mused silently. The Wilbur he knew always had something to say or someone to yell at. In the later years of them living together it was more often the latter.
Eventually he did begin talking, albeit nervously. “I- Well- When you left, you dropped a bit of paper with this address and an email on. I picked it up, and kept it. I didn’t tell Phil, I swear, I didn’t. At any rate, I found it in a box the other day when I was packing. I know I was a bit- No, I know I was an absolute dick of a brother to both you and Tommy, and I regret that. It’s okay if you want to cut ties after this, I understand, but I just wanted to extend an… olive branch of sorts. I don’t want to lose you both again.” Wil rushed through the last sentence, slumping impossibly further into the chair the longer he spoke. Staring at the older teen for a moment, Techno shot a subtle glance to the only other person still in the room. Tubbo seemed to get the memo and stood up abruptly, gesturing to the door and almost knocking over the coffee table as he did. “I’m just… Going to go make sure neither of them burn the house down without me! I’ll ask Tommy if he wants to talk to his ex- brother.” Making sure to clearly emphasise the ‘ex’, the brunette almost jogged into the kitchen, muttering under his breath as he went.
Wilbur stared after the short boy, a look something akin to sadness smearing across his face. Though, Techno thought he could identify a small flicker of hope in the man's expression, like a star poking through the clouds in a smoggy city. Ew. Even just Wilbur’s presence in the apartment was making him all poetic-y. No, it did not matter that he planned to major in english.
The kitchen door slammed loudly behind the boy, and the few moments of silence that followed were soon broken by wet laughter echoing from the kitchen. Techno cleared his throat loudly, and Wilbur jumped again. Gods, the guy was jumpy now. What had happened in the last year that changed him so much? Or was it just being in the house of his estranged ‘brothers’ that was making him this nervous? Either way, the silence stretched on achingly, eerily similar to the days of agonising hush in their… ‘fathers’ house, before either teenager spoke. Surprisingly, it was Techno that began the conversation.
“Soo… Wilbur. You want to…?” he raised an eyebrow and gestured vaguely around, clearly expecting Will to start talking. The older did, albeit stiffly. “Yes. Yes! I- um I wanted to. Yes. Well, like I said, I wanted to see you. And Tommy. You and Tommy. Like I said, I wanted to see my br- my- um. You guys. I understand if you don’t… uh, y’know, want to see me anymore. I know I was a shitty older brother, to both you and Tommy, and I shouldn’t have let- I shouldn't have let it get to where it did, with Phil and everything. Actually, scratch that, I shouldn’t have let it get anywhere. I was a prick. I was a prick, and a sorry excuse for a brother. And I get that now, and I know my age wasn’t an excuse for how shitty I was but I really hope you can both forgive me and we can be… friends, or something, I don’t know.” Wilbur finally took a breath, deflating as his speech came to a close. He shifted again in his seat, not quite confident but much less… worried? Than before. He was looking Techno in the eyes now, or trying to as it was now Techno that was looking away. Not out of guilt, just a general distaste for eye contact. He knew there was nothing he’d done wrong that hadn’t already been forgiven, hell, if anything Phil was the one who’d actually fucked up. But Wilbur did seem truly sorry, at least. That was something, and maybe, just maybe, that might even be enough.
Fumblingly, slowly, Techno extended a hand, patting Wilbur on the shoulder and coughing awkwardly in a slightly botched attempt to do something. Comfort him, maybe. At any rate, it seemed to work as Wilbur smiled sadly and sat up a bit. This really wasn’t Techno’s area of expertise, and if they’d been kids again he would’ve called for Wilbur to help. He could almost hear it now, a little 10-year-old Techno calling for his brother. His older brother, Wilbur, who’d always help, with his pretty music and pretty thoughts and pretty words. Everything about him, so happy and perfect and good. Or maybe that was just the rose-tinted glasses talking. Not that it mattered. The prettiness didn’t last.
He sighed, hand still resting on Wil- his brothers? Wilburs shoulder. They stayed there, Wilbur with a hopeful grimace and Techno with a contemplating stare, trying to formulate how best to comfort his- not his brother, not yet, but maybe his friend? Hesitantly, stiltedly, he spoke “Will. you were a kid too, it wasn’t your fault. You-” he was cut off, both by his own thoughts and Wilburs scoff. “Come on Tech, I fucked up. I know I fucked up, I know. I’m taking accountability, I’m trying.”
“Wilbur! Yes, you messed up a bit. You were a shitty brother. But you were a kid too! You were just a kid too. Phil was the adult in the situation, he should’ve done better. Okay, you had issues, you had flaws. So what! You were just a little kid, who was trying to hold his life together with a family disintegratin’ around him. Sure, we both know you weren’t the nicest. We both know you had your problems, but I did too! Neither of us were good, we were both two children who were sad and hurting, and vying for attention from our shitty excuse for a dad. We just took it out differently, and that's okay. We both had faults, and we both recognise that now. You’re sorry now, and that’s what matters. We were just 3 confused, hurting, sad children who needed love, and it’s okay that you displayed that differently. It’s okay we all reacted differently to our situation, thats normal. Even if you did act like a little bastard, I forgive you. I forgive you, it’s been over a year and you’re clearly sorry. I forgive you. And I’m sure Tommy will come around too, but you can’t expect it all to go back to how it was when you were 10. So much has changed, but we’re all trying okay. Yeah?”
The pause was palpable, and the clock was agonisingly loud. The two teenagers, the two brothers, stared at each other with a mix of sadness, regret, and… hope? Two pairs of brown eyes locked, one a light, coffee brown, the other an almost reddish shade. The tense silence was broken by another bout of swearing from the kitchen, accompanied by loud laughter. A sudden crash followed swiftly by a torrent of shouts from Tommy followed, a reminiscent laugh escaping Wilbur soon after. “Gods, I remember when Phil used to yell at Toms for that. Like that one time when he dropped a plate and swore so loudly he woke us all up? And Phil yelled at him for ag- Well. Yeah.” His smile slowly faded the further he got into the story, and eventually Wilbur stuttered awkwardly to a stop, sighing. Techno hummed, a darkened look coming over his face. “Yeah. Past is the past. We’ve both tried to move on. I hope you can too, Will.”
The moment was interrupted by the kitchen door slamming open, and Ranboo almost tumbling out. He looked wildly around the room, a flicker of annoyance passing when his eyes passed Wilbur. The three stared at each other for a moment before Ranboo haltingly spoke. “Uhm- sorry to interrupt and all, but the hot chocolates are finished, so if you wanna come into the kitchen?” He paused and mumbled their next words in a rush. “Also Tubbo dropped a cup and he’s trying to pick up the pieces with his hands again!”
An indignant squawk came from the kitchen, and upon entry Technoblade was met with an amusing sight that he was sure would be burned into his mind for a while.
Tommy was crouched on a counter, shielding his bare feet from the shards of porcelain on the floor. He was shaking, and for a moment Techno felt a pang of worry. But no, a closer look showed the teen shaking with laughter, clutching his chest and snorting at the other side of the kitchen. Tubbo stood there, staring at Tommy venomously and flipping him off, but his attempt at anger was quickly seen through, as his body was also wracked with laughter. The shorter brunette kneeling on the floor scrabbling at the shards of porcelain, while at the same time trying to dance around the scalding liquid on the floor as he hissed. Techno surveyed the room, snorting at the display. He stepped across the splash and scooped up Tubbo, ignoring his swearing, and depositing him on the sofa, calling back to the kitchen as he did.
“Ranboo, grab a towel or something. Show Wilbur the bin, and you two pick up the shards. And for gods sakes, use gloves or something!” Ranboo snorted as Techno re-entered the kitchen, clearly also remembering The Incident a few months previous, when Tubbo had thought it was a good idea to pick up a shattered plate with his bare hands. One trip to the hospital and 7 stitches later, they all vowed never to speak of it again under threat of Tubbo nuking the apartment. Hence, it was now dubbed ‘The Incident’.
Cleverly side-stepping the puddle, Techno lifted Tommy over the splatter with a grunt and carried him back to the front room before dropping him unceremoniously onto Ranboos usual armchair. Tommy squawked and sprung up to curse light-heartedly at Techno, who seemed unphased at the disruption as he headed back into the kitchen to help clean up. About 5 minutes later, the group crowded back into the living room. Tubbo was nursing a cut on his hand from the shard and giving Ranboo, who’d threatened to skin him if he tried to pick up porcelain with his bare hands again, a wide berth. Techno was in the kitchen and quickly emerged with the remaining mugs. Having already swiped one off the counter, Tommy was now sipping at it as he engaged in a tense staring match with Tubbo, so that left Techno to hand out the remaining… 3. They were one short due to The Incident 2.0, and there was an awkward pause as he handed two of the mugs to Ranboo and Tubbo respectively, before turning to hand the final one to Wilbur.
No one spoke for a moment, Tommy eyeing Techno with a clear mixture of confusion and hope. Will looked at him with wide and almost teary eyes, and accepted the mug with a smile, cradling it like his new-born child. Tubbo seemed to relax after the mug had exchanged hands, clearly seeing it as some kind of peace treaty, which Techno supposed it was. Ranboo had a less visible reaction, but was still clearly more relaxed as they continued the doom scroll through netflix, a small smile gracing their lips. Huffing, Techno sat in the spare chair that Wilbur had taken earlier, rolling his eyes when Wilbur hesitated before taking a spot on the sofa. Tommy, who’d been (very literally) kicked off Ranboos chair when Tubbo plucked up the courage to reclaim his seat, sidled over to the sofa and sat stiffly, not quite close to Wilbur but not pressed against the opposite arm either. Techno only tore his eyes away from the pair when Ranboo exclaimed in excitement, clearly having found a film.
He chose Hamilton, and Techno rolled his eyes at the craftiness of the child. Of course he somehow knew the only film that both Tommy and Wilbur could watch religiously without tiring of it, and of course he chose that one. The kid was much more observant that they let on, that much was clear. But still, he relaxed as the musical began, sinking into his seat.
It was only out of the corner of his eye that he noticed Tommy shifting slowly closer to Wil- to his brother, only out of the corner of his eye that he noticed the blonde thrust the bowl of popcorn towards him, rolling his eyes when the brunette almost melted in relief. Although unspoken, the message was clear. I forgive you. I forgive you.
And if, after the credits had begun rolling and it was clear the others were all asleep, Techno snapped a few photos of his two brothers curled up on the couch, then that was between him and his camera roll. And maybe Tommy too if he needed some good blackmail material.