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It had only been a few days since Quackity’s butcher army attempted to publicly execute Technoblade. He hadn’t left your side since he returned home, hand in yours or arm wrapped around your waist as if to remind himself you were still here with him despite everything. Techno had been making preparations for another attack when he knew they would inevitably return to try again. But Techno never knows when to stop and start taking care of himself, that’s when you stepped in to pull him away from his plans and into your arms. It was as if the second his head hit your chest all adrenaline he had been running on the past few days, ran out. That was about 6 hours ago, and the two of you still had no intent on moving any time soon.
Your hands toyed with his hair as he continued to read slowly to you, glasses reflecting the soft warm glow from the nearby fire. It’s crackles had slowly been lulling you to sleep against Techno’s chest, mouth pressed loosely against his calm pulse. His hand rubbing soft circles into your skin at your back beckons you deeper into your subconscious, the soft rumbling of his voice fading fast in your ears.
A slam of the front door sends both yourself and Techno bolting up, tangled in long limbs and a lack of space as Phil comes into view from around your fireplace. “Quackity’s headed here!” Phil chokes out, obviously having run a considerable distance to deliver such a message, Techno stands, and you follow suit. “Already? He’ll be underprepared.” Techno mused, moving to start gathering his supplies. Tools recently sharpened, potions brewed days ago, and stacks of fireworks prepped for firing.
You mirror his actions, gathering your weapons with a bridled enthusiasm. You hadn’t been home when Quackity and his army had taken Technoblade and you had beat yourself up over that fact. Knowing that perhaps the outcome could have been different if you’d been there, you were going to make sure that was the case this time. Mind distracted by theoretical outcomes you equip your armour with practiced familiarity, knowing you’ve done this hundreds of times before. But only this time did it truly matter. A hand presses to your shoulder and you turn, “You’re staying inside the house. You know I can’t lose you, not now, not ever.” His hand moves from your shoulder to your hips, squeezing softly. Your eyes search his and only find pain and worry. “I’m fighting with you; you know I can handle myself Tech.” He looks away from your face, unable to meet your gaze. He knows you’re right.
And he also knows you won’t take no for an answer. Especially considering they were able to take him to Manberg last time. “Fine.” He huffs out, “But you have to keep this.” Techno takes the golden charm off of his shirt, the small totem’s eyes glinting as he pins it to your shirt. You open your mouth to question him, “I have another for myself, don’t worry.” He meets your eyes then but only for a second, pulling you tightly to his chest. “Be safe my love.” His lips press soft atop your hair, “I always am.” You raise your head and meet his lips, hand cupping the back of his neck before pulling away with a smile. “Time to kick ass, huh?”
Even on the battlefield, you can tell that Technoblade is still worried, he is distracted by your presence in the fight. You intend to prove during this fight that his anxiety is for naught, Quackity didn’t even bother with a spiel about how Techno deserves this and he’s going to get justice instead opting to fight instantly. His butcher army stood by his side and seemed to assume Technoblade would be alone, Phil and yourself rid them of that assumption as quick as it had come. You were quick to notice they were down a man, Ranboo was missing. Technoblade was right, they were underprepared.
Fundy’s blade clashed with your own, drawing your eyes off of Techno and onto him. “He has to face justice; can’t you see that!?” There was no skill or nuance to his attacks only power behind them making them hard to block but easy to predict. However, you were breaking a sweat as he finally managed to nick your shoulder, with a particularly quick thrust of his sword your armour fracturing upon impact. You muffle your cry of pain with a grunt, nailing the fox hybrid with a deep slash across his chest. Fundy fell backward with a cry, shaking as you stab downwards into his chest and finish the job, his body disappearing and his items popping out of seemingly thin air.
You look over to where you last saw Phil, Tubbo now squirming futilely beneath his sandal. Your head whips around as Quackity screeches, bloody body barely making it to the ground before disappearing. It seems you’d at least get a good haul of loot from these idiots. Techno’s eyes are frantic searching for you for a moment, you watch as his body visibly relaxes when he spots you. “Are you alright?” His hands are all over you, feeling for any injuries. You intake sharply when he gets to your shoulder and he growls, “That bastard.” You place your hand over his, “It’s merely a scratch Tech. I’m fine. Are you okay?” You are acutely aware of the growing patch of crimson on his torso, white shirt stained dark. “Nothing I can’t patch up.” He grumbles, hands tentatively pressing on and around the area.
Techno refuses to let you patch him up first, practically throwing you onto the kitchen table so he can get a closer look at your shoulder. It’s barely even a scratch. But you’re quick to realise it’s a great excuse for him to touch you so gently. Pressing on your skin as if too much pressure would cause you to shatter completely. “You dropped your arm to avoid the brunt of the force behind his blade,” Techno observes looking to you to confirm, you shrug lightly in response.
“I’ve seen you do it before. Watched you do it the other day when you were sparring with Phil.” He nods solemnly, deciding he truly can’t do anything about your shoulder. Due to it being a scratch and nothing more, as you had said several times. “Well, for someone who just watched me do it you completed the move pretty well.” His eyes can’t meet yours and you smile softly, “Eh, my reflexes are just pretty good. Not a whole lotta skill involved for me.” You are quick to change the subject, ushering him onto the table so you can look at his torso wound.
Your fingers are nimble, working through each stitch with a practiced precision that Techno watches with a keen but relaxed eye. You’re usually the one to patch him up, he can do it sure, you’re just better. And maybe he secretly likes how close you have to get to him and how gentle your hands work against his skin. “I was watching you… during the battle I mean, you made short work of Fundy.” Your hands still for a moment fumbling with the bandage, your eyes move to his and he looks away quickly. “You were? I uh, he isn’t traditionally trained or anything, so he wasn’t much of an opponent.”
You force yourself to keep your brain on track, tightening the bandage around his middle as gently as you can. One of his hands grabs your wrist, you still immediately and meet his eyes. “I… you really can’t take a compliment, can you?” His sigh is soft, and his eyes are warm, “What I’ve been trying to say is that I’m sorry for underestimating your skills and that I’m proud to fight by your side.” Even as he says such sweet things, he still can’t seem to hold your gaze. The grin on your face is enough to bring his gaze back however, “Best be getting used to fighting with me then because I don’t plan on budging anytime soon.” Your lips press firmly to his cheek a few times before he turns his head to catch your lips.
“We can start training tomorrow because I’m still exhausted.” Techno groans, shifting to get off of the table, your hand finding his with ease and leading him back over to the fire where the two of you had been hours earlier. That’s when you notice his hair, you gasp softly and take a seat in front of the fire. Techno moves to sit behind you, you quickly pat the ground in front of you. “Your braid’s come loose, let me fix it for you.” He moves with vigor at your words, knowing your nimble hands against his scalp will send him to sleep in minutes. The warm glow of the fire highlights his bright eyes as they peek back at you every few moments, “Head forward, my prince.” You press a few soft kisses to the back of his head and his hands snake around to knead your soft thighs. You huff out a breath of air as your cheeks heat up at his ministrations.
“I’m trying to focus on your hair here.” You grumble, “What?” You can hear the smirk in his voice, so in retaliation, you focus your full attention on his hair, not noticing his hands on your thighs begin to slow their movements until they stop, and you’ve finished the braid. “Techno?” The soft snoring you hear in response warms your chest and you carefully manoeuvre him to lay down on the plush fur rug in front of your fireplace. He’s normally a light sleeper, which means he truly must’ve been exhausted by that fight. You quietly lay next to him, tangling your legs and wrapping an arm over his chest being careful near his wound. “I love you, Techno.” A kiss to the side of his face doesn’t wake him as the crackling fire and howling of the chilly wind outside lulls you into a peaceful sleep.