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The pitter patter of rain against his window echoed pleasantly through his den, the glow of his lamp bathing the dim room in warm yellow light. Afternoons like this were perfect for flicking his way through the old parchment of a book in the isolation of his room.
His peace was, of course, shattered when Wilbur slammed the door open to his room, temporarily stunning him from where he’d been laying on his bed.
“You trying to pick a fight? If you've damaged the wall I’m telling dad.”
“Oh don't be like that Techno! You know we’d both just hide whatever dent I’ve made” he cooed before shrugging off the cape he’d stolen from Techno months ago.
“What do you want?” he drawled “you never come in here for nothing.”
“That's cruel, Tech. How could you say that about your own brother? You make it sound like I only use you” Wilbur pouted “it's not my fault you never wanna leave your room.”
“I literally left my room earlier today” he huffed before flicking the page of his book “picked a fight and won in time for lunch.”
“You fought today? Without me?”
He looked up again from his book to see his older brother staring him down with a pout on his face. Hands were stationed at his hips and an almost dangerously possessive look glinted in his eye; his brother always did like watching him beat other people up too much.
“You were out, I wasn't gonna go out and find you.”
“That doesn't mean you can just hurt people without me!” Wilbur huffed “I could've helped goad…”
“You can goad for me next time. What are you here for?” He asked idly, attention more wrapped up in the book he was reading than their conversation. His twin always managed to interrupt him at the most interesting parts.
“Promise not to make fun of me.”
His eyes snapped up to him, a growl already rumbling in his chest. Wilbur making him promise anything meant he did some bullshit that he needed to be helped out of. At least the fox hybrid had enough sense to look sheepish while he did it.
“It's not what you think!” he added urgently “I promise I haven't done anything this time! This is for something else!”
“Wil it’s raining if you're gonna make me go get the shovel again-” he started, snapping his book shut and thumping it onto his nightstand. Wilbur was quick to cut him off again, frustration seeping into his tone “at least hear me out first! You have to hear me out! ”
He pinched his brow and sighed, silently resigning him to get lied to and dragged into whatever mess he’d made for himself.
“Fine. What do you want from me? What alibi do I need to corroborate?”
“Why do you always assume it's a crime? Can’t I just do something else?”
“Crime is literally one of your favourite things! You love crime!”
“I do but that doesn't mean it's all I think about! I have other motivations in life!”
“Yeah. My pain and suffering being one” he huffed, grunting as Wilbur tossed himself onto his bed, crushing his legs in the process “if it's not for a crime then what do you want from me?”
Blush immediately creeped up his brother's cheeks, an embarrassed look flashing over his face before he looked down to play with his fingers, a nervous habit that never failed to give him away.
He bit back another frustrated growl as he watched him pluck up his pride to ask him for whatever he wanted. What was there for Wilbur to be ashamed about? They were Crafts.
Protectiveness rose and swirled in his chest as his mind ran through the possibilities. There was nothing he’d noticed from watching him, Skeppy hadn’t reported anything back after their usual hangouts and nothing from his journals jumped out at him.
Right as he was going to push for an answer, Wilbur had gathered his bearings.
“Your hands are steady right?” he still wasn't looking at him “like they can hold still for a while, can't they?”
“...Yeah, they can?” he asked back, a little lost on why he was being asked. Watching as Wil continued to pick at the skin around his nails, hands fidgeting as he took in his answer “why do you ask?” he added.
“Could they… in theory of course… do-” the rest of his sentence ended in a mumble, something his piglin ears couldn't even catch up from the speed and quietness that it was spoken.
“What? Wil I couldn't hear you. Speak up” he grumbled, patience beginning to wear thin at his brothers antics “could they what?”
His brother's ears pinned against his head as he continued to avoid his gaze, keeping it pointedly focused on his hands the whole time.
“Could they- ugh you're making this so awkward. Stop staring at me so much, I don’t think you’ve blinked since I’ve come into this room” Wilbur grumbled, covering his face with his palms now to hide the red dusting his cheeks “be normal. Look away.”
“Be normal? Wil you’re the one being weird! Tell me what you want me to do or leave. I don’t have time for this” he did, but Wilbur didn’t need to know that. He always did what he wanted whenever he was threatened with being kicked out.
Wilbur flinched at the irritation bleeding into his tone, always made nervous when he was anything but indulgent towards him.
“I- fine uh-” he sighed “could you, in theory, do… makeup?”
“I’m not doing makeup for whatever new toy you have” he countered, not even considering the question “get out.”
“No- Its not for him” Wil whined, frustration finally bleeding through “its for me.”
Surprise flooded through his system, Wilbur never showed any interest in makeup before, he was more interested in things like mauling people and causing legal problems, he never wanted anything else.
The silence filling the room was working to drown his brother in anxiety, his face was a deep crimson as he curled in on himself, he seemed torn between never meeting Technos eye again and looking at it to at least gauge his reaction.
“Why do you want me to do makeup for you?” he asked “you don't even like makeup.”
“I just- listen, I-” Wilbur stumbled over his words, seemingly having no idea how to explain his interest “ ugh you always make things so hard…” he ended in a grumble.
“You don’t have to justify it to me, I just wanna know why” he huffed, bapping his tail on his brother's nose “I don’t care about you wearing makeup, I just need to know why I’m getting dragged into it.”
Wil sighed, letting some of his anxiety flow off of him, dragging himself up so he was laying wedged between Techno’s body and the wall as he rested his head on his chest. The position was awkward but the content huff his brother gave when he got comfortable stopped him from challenging it.
“You know how shaky my hands are… I get too anxious and I keep fucking it up.”
“Fucking up what?” He dropped his hand down to his brother's curls and began petting through them “be transparent with me for once.”
“Promise not to make fun of me.”
He looked down at Wil again, his brother starkly refusing to meet his eye once more. His tail and ears were flicking anxiously, fingers now picking at Technos shirt rather than his skin.
Something about the pleading in his voice softened him in a way that only Wilbur ever managed. Any annoyance and frustration bled out of him at how lost his brother sounded, a deep need to provide and protect instead rising in the back of his mind.
There was no doubt that it was deliberate, Wil was pulling strings and pushing buttons as he always did, but he couldn't find it in himself to be angry at him for it. He loved an excuse to fawn over him and hoard him away.
Wilbur was just providing that.
An indulgent sigh left him as continued to scratch at his brother's ears, watching contentedly as anxious tail flicks smoothened out into pleased wags. He could feel Wilbur grinning against his chest, he knew he’d gotten what he wanted.
“Alright, I promise to help so long as you tell me everything.”
Wil let out a grumble at his stipulation, little claws digging through the fabric of his shirt and pricking at his skin. A low growl sent his way quickly had them retreating and his brother acting as if he hadn't even done anything.
“Go on then, you’re not here to just lay with me” he huffed, poking at Wilbur's face “explain yourself.”
Another grumble was levied his way as his brother tried to swat away his poking hands, the sound soon replaced by a whelping sound that he always used to beg for attention. With a huff he scratched at his ears again, enjoying the pleased sound that Wil made in response.
“I can do all the other shit” the fox grumbled “I just can't get the damned eyeliner right. No matter what I do my hand just shakes and I stab myself in the eye.”
He grabbed his brother's chin, tilting his head around so he could get a better look at his eyes to assess any damage. Aside from the skin being red from him scrubbing the liner away there wasn't a visible issue or damage caused by his unsteady hands.
Wil stayed quiet as he did it, obediently letting him move his head as he so pleased. Between the scratching behind his ears and having Techno’s full attention he was probably too content to try and put up his independent act.
A pleased rumble left him at his brother not being hurt, rewarding his patience with more pets.
“Can you do it for me? I wanna see what I look like with it” he whined “I’m curious.”
“Fine, go get your eyeliner and sit on my bed. I’ll do it” he grumbled, fighting back the immediate grin he got when Wilbur cheered and yipped happily at him, pushing himself up and slinking out his room with a bounce in his step.
He sighed and slid off his bed, an unhappy rumble in his chest when his legs ached from how his brother had landed on them and then crushed them under his own gangly limbs.
Sooner than later Wil pranced back in with a bottle and a small hand mirror, beaming with a grin as he jumped onto Techno’s bed and smiled up at him, patiently waiting after depositing the liner into his hand.
Quietly he inspected the little black bottle, eyeing the liquid liners branding before leaning over his brother and unscrewing the lid. He tilted Wilburs face up so that he had a better view and he set to work.
He took a moment to work out what angle would be best before getting started on his right eye, simply following Wils lash line and then repeating it on the other side, leaving a thin black line over the top of his eyes.
Wil smiled excitedly as he grabbed the hand mirror to inspect Technos work, leaning close and peering at himself from different angles as he yipped happily and wagged his tail.
“Do you think you could do wings? I wanna see what that looks like too!”
“Sure, give me a second” he said, going off to find something flat and straight to use as a guide for himself, he rummaged around before finding an old pen, a smooth and straight angle around its handle.
After deeming it good enough he turned back to Wil and took his chin back in his hand to get his face straight before angling up the pen. He used the lower lash line as a guide for the angle before marking out how long he wanted it to be, careful to keep it even on both sides.
The rest was simple, making sure the line he drew was straight before connecting it with the lash line he drew before, carefully filling it in and thickening it where necessary.
Keeping it the same on Wilburs left eye was slightly harder, mirroring his previous work as close to symmetrical as he could proved slightly difficult when the fox hybrid's tail was wagging so hard it shook his whole body.
Either way he persevered and got them as symmetrical as they were gonna get, quietly patting himself on the back when he eyed his handiwork before passing the mirror back over to Wil.
His brother beamed again, grin bright as he inspected every stroke and curve that Techno drew out. Excited little squeaks escaped him as he grabbed Technos waist in a hug, careful not to smear the piglins hard work.
“Most people put on some mascara after but considering the fact that you got mum's lashes I doubt you’ll need it” he hummed “you finally happy? Have your eyeliner dreams been fulfilled?”
“That and more, Techno” Wilbur teased “I can now die happy with perfect eyeliner.”
“Go show dad, he’ll probably wanna see” he smoothed a hand through his brother's curls again “he likes to see you trying new things.”
“I wanna sleep in the den tonight” Wil drawled “let me?”
“After dinner, Orpheus” he huffed, “you can curl up with me when you’re more tired out and can't jab your elbows in my ribs every second.”
“Oh come off it Techno” Wilbur scowled up at him, finally pulling away from their hug, he bit back a growl at the separation “as if you don’t love whenever I’m trapped in the den with you.”
“Yeah whatever helps you sleep at night” he pushed his brother's head away with his palm, snickering as clawed hands started scrabbling at him “delusion doesn’t look good on you, Wil.”
They roughhoused for a couple minutes, laughing and pushing at each other as they playfully growled and snapped at each other, only breaking apart when Phil called out for them to calm it down, no doubt hearing Wils head collide with the wall after a particularly rough shove.
Wil, as expected, immediately goes running down the stairs to snitch about him being ‘mean’ and ‘bullying’ him, soon swept up in Phil’s fawning right after over both the minor bruising and his new eyeliner.
He huffed as he heard Wil give a dramatised retelling of their playfight, painting himself as an angel and Techno as evil incarnate. Judging by Phils occasional cackles, he wasn’t being very convincing.
A pleased rumble escaped his chest at the sound of his family so content, the thought of reading cooped up in his room feeling far less appealing now that he could join his father in teasing his brother.
He purred as he turned off his lamp and put his book back in its place before making his way to the stairs so he could stop the slander campaign against his good name.
Rain still pattered against the windows of the house, sky painted a dark grey as the interior was bathed in the warm light of their lanterns. It felt like the perfect afternoon to spend curled up with his family, something far better than any old book he owned.