Chapter Text
When Phil drifted back towards consciousness, the first thing he registered was a gentle hand resting in his head, and a soft warmth enveloping him from all sides. The second thing he registered was the overwhelming pain that was the sharp pain radiating from his ankles and hips, as well as a skull splitting headache that was only relieved slightly by the pressure of the hand on his head.
This was far from the worst pain Philza had experienced; he had spent centuries on the battlefield and pain had been his constant companion through it all, one he could never forget. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t affected by it. So even after he woke up, it took him a few seconds to work up the courage to open his eyes, instead of slipping back into the peace of unconsciousness. When he did, he immediately regretted it. The firelight felt like hundreds of needles piercing through his eyes and he let out an involuntary groan, squeezing his eyes back shut.
The noise must have alerted his companion, because the hand in his hair was gently removed, and the body beside him began shifting until it was no longer pressed beside him. He mourned the loss of warmth with a whine, but was in far too much pain to try and follow the man.
It seemed he didn’t have to, because a few seconds later he returned, and put a hand against the back of Phil’s neck, delicately angling his head forward.
“Drink this,” Techno rasped softly, just loud enough to be heard over the crackling of the fireplace, but quiet enough that it didn’t cause Phil any extra pain. Phil felt the cool press of a bottle on his lips, and parted them slightly, allowing the cool, fizzy, liquid to pass between them and slide down his throat. He quickly identified it as a healing potion by the strong taste of melon, and sped up drinking. Almost as soon as the liquid hit his stomach, he felt the pain in his legs recede and his headache died down. After a few seconds of the potion working its magic, he was able to open his eyes, and was greeted with the worried face of Techno.
Techno had bags under his eyes and dried tear tracks down his face, and his face wore the expression of a man who had stayed up all night worrying, but Phil couldn't help the smile that crawled its way onto his face at the sight of the man.
"Hey Tech," he whispered, his voice still dull from exhaustion. Techno's eyes glowed and he brushed some stray hair out of Phil's face.
"Hey sunshine." Phil laughed at the nickname, a choked sound, but joyful nonetheless. "How are you feeling?"
"Hmm, better now that you're here." Truthfully, Phil was still in a decent amount of pain, the majority of it coming from his left wing and his legs, but he didn't think there was much of anything Techno could do about it now besides give him more healing potions. Techno frowned, knowing Phil well enough to know Phil wasn't telling him the whole truth, but not sure how to call him on it.
"Do you think you could stomach some food? It's not good to drink those potions on an empty stomach." Phil thought about it for a moment, then nodded. Techno looked relieved, and stood up to head towards the kitchen. "I'll be right back," he reassured Phil before disappearing off into the kitchen.
Phil yawned and leaned back into the warmth of the blankets, letting his eyes drift shut. The heat from the fireplace rolled over him in comforting waves, easing his pain and filling him with a fuzzy feeling. He tried to stay awake until Techno got back, but before he knew it, Techno was on his knees beside Phil's head, gently shaking him back awake.
“Can you sit up for me? I don’t want you to choke,” Techno said, holding a bowl of soup in his hand, using the other to support the back of Phil’s neck. Phil tried his best to sit up, but when he started to change his posture, his wings screamed in agony and he quickly aborted the motion, falling back onto Techno’s hand with a grunt.
“Okay, I’ll take that as a no.” He removed the hand from the back of Phil's head and As much as Techno may have been trying to hide it, Phil could still hear the masked concern in his voice, and couldn’t help but feel guilty; he hadn’t meant to worry his companion like this when he went for a flight. Determined this time, Phil tried to sit up again, yielding the same results.
“Woah, what are you doing?” Techno rushed back to wherever he was behind Phil at the sudden movement, placing a hand on Phil’s chest, and pushing him back until he was laying against the blankets again. “Just relax for a minute, I’ll get you set up over here.”
Phil allowed himself to relax and tried to ignore the guilt settling in his chest. There was some rustling behind him, then suddenly, a pair of arms slipped beneath him--one behind his shoulders, the other underneath his knees--and he was being lifted into the air, and carried. He was too exhausted to do anything but lean into the warmth of Techno’s chest, until he was set down on the couch. Techno quickly arranged his wings into what he hoped was a more comfortable position, before turning back to the bowl of soup he had placed temporarily on the coffee table.
Arranging himself next to Phil with the bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other, Techno began to feed him. The food wasn’t anything special, just a simple rabbit stew cooked with potatoes and carrots, but it was heavenly to Philza. The warm stew sat comfortably in his stomach as he took bite after bite until the bowl was empty. Techno chuckled quietly at the speed Phil managed to eat.
“Looks like someone was hungry, huh?” he teased, and the other just whined in response, shifting his body slightly to bury his face into the warmth of Techno’s shoulder. The man laughed again, and this time Phil could feel the vibrations along the line where their bodies met. “Don’t go to sleep so fast, little bird, we still have to do your wings.”
Phil made a noise of discontentment, and shook his head, but techno must have been determined because there was a hand gently threading through the feathers of his uninjured wing. He began at the top and made his way slowly down, combing out any debris and dried blood. Afraid of overwhelming Phil, he went slow, pausing whenever he felt the body pressed against him tense, trying his best to cause the man as little pain as possible. Some time passed, and Techno finished with the first wing. Now for the hard part.
Phil immediately cringed away when Techno’s hand brushed up against his left wing. The pain wasn’t unbearable, but Phil’s wings had always been sensitive, so he was wary to let Techno anywhere near it. Techno paused, waiting for Phil’s permission before trying again. After a moment of stillness, Phil gathered his courage and took a deep breath as he pushed his injured wing up into Techno’s hand. He shuddered at the feeling, but forced himself to keep his wing still. He trusted Techno to do this. Trying his best to breath, he gripped both his hands tightly to the other man’s shirt, listening to the words of comfort mixed with murmured apologies as Techno made his way down the second wing. When he fixed the last feather, both sighed in relief and relaxed against each other. Philza yawned and closed his eyes, comforted by the hand that found its way to his hair, combing through it gently.
Finally safe and warm, he fell asleep, content in his companion’s arms.