Chapter Text
It was cold, and dark, and the clouds hiding the moon held the threat of rain. Or, perhaps snow, considering the small town’s proximity to the snow capped mountains. It was lucky he’d found this place… but if he could find it, so could they , and that was not something he wanted to consider. Shivering from more than just the cold, he pressed on, avoiding the windows of the cozy homes he passed as he searched for… A stable!
It seemed a little out of place, honestly. A great big stable made of thick oak beams with room for at least six horses with some space left over for hay storage, the building was nonetheless empty. Except for the hay. He could easily make himself a cozy little den in the farthest stall with no-one the wiser. Grinning, he picked up his pace a little. As he drew closer, he spotted the sign, made from an achingly familiar blue wood. He stopped, read the sign two more times, then looked up at the equally out of place cobblestone tower.
It was about three floors tall and roughly the same width as the floor of The Pit. Warm light spilled out of the squat windows set in the face of the building and, edging carefully closer, he could see well worn oak tables with similarly worn chairs set out like the gambling dens that ringed The Pit. Just on the edge of what he could see through the window was a fireplace and along the back wall was a counter and a rack of barrels. A doorway led even deeper into the ground floor of the tower and to what he could only assume was the kitchen.
The tables were mostly empty and the fire had burned low, but as he stood there watching, a tall man came from the back. His clothes merged into a blur of red and white and blue and brown as the hooded teen’s eyes latched onto the man’s hair.
A steady litany of gold gold gold started up in his mind and he squeezed his eyes shut, crouching down below the window. No no no! He couldn’t give in, he couldn’t! But… the man had been carrying food. And his hair was gold . And this was a hotel. Maybe… maybe…? But no. No, he couldn’t. People would see, people would talk …
He hid in the stable until the last patron walked out before the screaming in his mind won out and he slunk in the door. The blonde from before turned with a kind smile at the sound of the door.
“‘Ello! Welcome to…” He cut himself off as he took in the boy, blinking.
“I’d like a room,” the boy said tonelessly, slamming all his money down on the counter. He internally winced, his anxiety swelling, but forced himself to remain still as he stared into startlingly blue eyes. The man looked down at the money, then back up at him.
“Of course! Right this way,” the man said, motioning him closer and heading toward a second door the boy hadn’t noticed earlier. It led to a small hallway with a staircase and a set of bathrooms.
The blonde man paused, grabbing a medium sized bag from under the stairs, then continued on to the second floor. “It’s pretty rare I get guests,” the man said, stepping out into the second floor of the tower. “Most people have a friend or a family member they prefer to stay with when they visit. When we get visitors, that is. Anyway! You can choose any room you want.” The boy looked at the hall of rooms and chose one near the middle. The blonde nodded and pushed open the door. “Take a seat, kid,” he said, setting the bag on the small table set by the window.
“Why?” the teen asked, tugging his cloak a little tighter. The blonde gave him a flat look.
“I’m not an idiot, kid. We’re a self-sufficient community around here, but I’m the one they bring the wounded to. The Hotel has the most beds to offer, and the biggest kitchen, so my place doubles as the town hospital. Which means, I know when people are hiding an injury . Now sit down and let Big Man Innit take a look at you,” he said. The teen tensed and Big Man Innit sighed, opening his bag. “I’d really rather treat you myself, make sure it’s all done right, but I can tell when I’m not wanted.” He set out a bottle of some strong smelling chemical, a tub of some kind, a few squares of loose weave cotton, some bright white bandages, and a handful of shiny metal objects. “You know how to use these, kid?”
“They’re basic wound care supplies,” the teen answered, staring at them. He’d only been treated with items like these a few times and even then, he hadn’t been given such bright bandages. Big Man Innit sighed.
“I’d be concerned if you didn’t know what they were,” he said. “But that’s not what I asked. Do you know how to use them?” The teen nodded and Big Man Innit sighed. “Right… I don’t like it, but I’ll leave you to tend your wounds yourself. Breakfast will be ready whenever you get up. Oh and… the door locks from the inside and there are only two keys: yours and mine. Sleep well kid.”
“Technoblade.” The man paused and turned away from the door with a puzzled expression. “My name. It’s Technoblade.”
A brilliant smile, warmer than all the rest, spread across Big Man Innit’s face. “Good night, Technoblade. And… call me Tommy,” he said before walking back out into the hall, closing the door behind him.
///*///
Tommy smiled the whole way back to the front door. It had been a good day for the tavern, the end of harvest season meaning that the farmers had more downtime and the trappers had more stories to tell by the fire. The spiced cider and roasted chicken had sold well, as had the honey glazed carrots, and no-one had gotten in a fight!
And he had a guest staying!
His smile fell a little at the thought of Technoblade. The handful of cash he’d slammed down was nowhere near enough for a room but… the poor kid was dirty and bruised, clearly on the run from something - or some one - and the blonde just couldn’t turn him away.
He rubbed at his shoulder with a grimace and locked the front door with a definitive click then elbowed the hidden pressure plate behind the tapestry of a river island, a rumbling hum starting up as he pulled away from the hand stitched cabin on the island coast. Security activated, he blew out all but one of the candles and banked the fire for the night before trudging up to his room on the third floor, situated right above the roof of his shed out back.
///*///
Waking up warm was… odd. Waking up warm and with soft sunlight filling the room was really odd.
Technoblade jolted upright and stared around the room in somewhat bleary shock.
There was a window a few feet to his left, framed by pale cream curtains embroidered with tiny creatures that looked like they were tumbling over themselves. Just in front of the window was a small, round table covered with a thicker cloth of the same color with vines embroidered around the hem. On top of this table was an open bag with a thick red cross stamped in the supple leather, medical supplies sitting innocently beside it. The far left wall was a pale blue and a painting of the seaside hung in the center. The wall in front of the bed was also pale blue and sported a pair of sconces, each with an unlit torch, framing the sturdy looking oak door. The right wall was a slightly darker blue and sported a door about two feet from the forward wall.
Technoblade took a long, slow breath and caught a whiff of a light floral scent with something sweet underneath it, though it was nearly overpowered by the disinfectant he’d used on his wounds.
This was… nice. Really nice. There was no way the pocketful of change he’d been able to steal had covered all of this. Or the meal Big Man Innit had promised him.
Remembering that promise, Technoblade’s stomach rumbled demandingly. Ears pinned against his head, as close to disappearing into his shaggy pink hair as possible, he crept out of his room and down the stairs. Why had he chosen one so far from the only exit? What had possessed him last night?
“Ah! ‘Ello, Tech-no-Blade! Sleep well?” Big Man Innit called, beaming at him from the kitchen door like the sun itself. Technoblade blinked at him, then forced himself to nod. “Good to hear, big man! Take a seat wherever you like and I’ll bring out a plate for you!” the man boomed, already disappearing into the kitchen. Technoblade sighed and sat down at a table with good sightlines and a wall at his back. Big Man Innit was at his side in moments, plopping down a large plate of eggs, potato hash, and sausage. It smelled heavenly, the steam drifting off of it almost looked magical. “What would you like to drink? I’ve got orange juice, apple juice, milk, and good black tea. Personally, I’d recommend orange juice.”
“Ah… okay?” Technoblade did not stammer, staring wide eyed at him. Big Man Innit hummed, a strange look passing over his face, before he grinned and gave a firm nod like Technoblade had given him a proper answer.
“Orange juice it is! I’ll have that right out for you, big man!” he chirped, then twisted on the ball of his foot and strode back into the kitchen. Technoblade looked back down at the steaming food in front of him and just… stared. In awe. “I promise, it tastes as good as it looks,” Big Man Innit said, causing him to jump slightly. He looked up to see the blonde smiling at him, reaching out to set down a glass of orange juice before sitting down with his own meal - Technoblade was mildly impressed he could carry two glasses and a full plate without dropping anything - directly across from Technoblade. “Your food’s gonna go cold if you just keep staring at it, Technoblade.” He said his name with such warmth and softness, Technoblade almost choked. Judging by the glance Big Man Innit sent him, he still made some kind of noise. Thankfully, he returned to his meal without further comment. Taking a deep breath and being bombarded with the delightful smell once again, Technoblade finally picked up his fork and began to eat.
///*///
Tommy hid a proud smile behind a sip of orange juice as Technoblade’s eyes went wide and his pupils dilated at the taste of his signature scrambled eggs. The teen ate roughly half his eggs before seemingly realizing he had more food on his plate to try and dug into his sausage.
A little chuff escaped the bruised teen as he chewed on the meat, his eyes drifting closed. Tommy stopped hiding his grin and propped his head up on his fist, watching the clearly abused hybrid discover the joys of a home cooked breakfast.
Then the boy tried the potato hash and he was lost, purring up a storm as he somehow managed to inhale the hash while also savoring each bite.
An old, familiar feeling welled up in his chest as Tommy slowly ate his breakfast, listening to the sound of a truly content piglin hybrid. He’d come close to this feeling on days when the tavern was full of happy chatter and the fire crackled merrily in the background, but now… thinking back on those nights, they felt oddly hollow. He looked over at Technoblade, happily demolishing his breakfast with little chuffs and purrs, his eyes full of life and ears perked forward, and sighed. He really didn’t want to see the kid go.
He shook his head and sat back in his seat, sipping his orange juice and watching the clouds through the window.
There was a part of him, a dark possessive part, that pointed out the kid had severely underpaid and Tommy would be well within his rights to keep the boy there until he worked off his debt, which would increase with every meal he ate and every night he stayed. Tommy viciously beat that part of himself up and shoved it in a cupboard. He was better than that. He was! If Technoblade wanted to leave then… then he’d let him go. He’d pack him a bag, patch up his clothes, and give him directions to a place where he could start a new life for himself.
(He steadfastly ignored how the thought made his heart scream .)
“Big Man Innit?” Technoblade said, his soft voice instantly snapping Tommy back to reality as he forced himself to slowly turn around to face the boy.
“Call me Tommy, big man,” he said gently, smiling at the awkward teen. Technoblade fiddled with the edge of his cloak and Prime if that didn’t tug at Tommy’s heartstrings.
“Tommy,” Technoblade corrected himself softly, ducking his head a little. Tommy held himself back from cooing; Technoblade really didn’t need that right now, the poor awkward child. “I… I don’t have… I can’t pay you for…” Technoblade stopped and growled faintly before jerking up, ramrod straight and glaring at him. “I’ll work to pay for my meal.” Tommy nearly melted, but also had to once more beat back that dark part of himself, hissing about using Technoblade’s debt against him.
“You don’t have to,” he said instead. “I wanted to feed you, so I did.”
“Then, I’ll work for the room. There’s no way I paid you enough for all of this,” Technoblade insisted. Tommy quietly groaned. Prime, this kid was making it so difficult not to…
“Work for me and you can have free room and board,” he said. Technoblade nodded his acceptance and gathered up their dishes, headed for the kitchen. Tommy sighed and leaned back, gazing up at the ceiling. “Mother, why? ” he asked softly. All he got in return was Her familiar laugh and the ghost of a hair ruffle.
With a sigh, Tommy hauled himself up to saunter over to the kitchen and see how Technoblade was doing.
Ah, his attempt at washing dishes was going hilariously poorly.
“Clearly, you weren’t a kitchen slave, Technoblade,” Tommy drawled. The boy flinched and the glass in his hand slipped back into the sink. Thankfully, it didn’t break, but the pure fear in the boy’s eyes was enough to shatter Tommy. “Don’t worry. Your past doesn’t matter. Not here,” he said, smoothly taking the rag from the teen’s hands and picking up a plate. “And really, you’ve grasped the idea pretty quickly. I’m impressed,” he continued, rubbing the plate down. “With plates, you start by scraping off any left over food. I keep the majority of these scraps in a bin to use as fertilizer for my garden, though some get fed to my pigs or chickens. After the scraps are taken care of, you rinse them, then get a soapy rag, like you did, and rub the eating surface down real good. Don’t forget to clean the rims or the bottom though. You’d be surprised how often food hides under there.” Technoblade watched and listened with the kind of intensity Tommy had previously only seen in child soldiers. But there hadn’t been any wars in the surrounding areas for years so where…
Those Prime forsaken Hunters!
He hated how much sense it made. Netherborn hybrids were too rare and powerful to be used as house slaves, so when caught by Hunter they were most often sent to The Pit. Tommy hated it with a passion, but there was nothing he could do about it. Not now. Not when…
He reached up and rubbed his shoulder.
///*///
Working at The Big Innit Hotel was both easier and harder than Technoblade had anticipated. It was so different from what he knew, Tommy had to explain everything and clean up his mess. But… it was so much nicer .
Tommy never raised his voice, unless it was to be heard over the chatter in the tavern or the rattling of pans. He never hit him either. Sure, he would occasionally bat Technoblade’s hand out of the way to show him how to do something or to take over stirring one of the dishes, but that didn’t count.
And the smiles. Ender, the smiles .
Technoblade was a Netherborn hybrid. He was used to the heat - which had caused Tommy a few scares as Technoblade saw no point in such things as pot holders - but those smiles made him warm in a way nothing else had. Not anything he remembered anyway. And Tommy gave out those smiles like it was the easiest thing in the world too.
Even the few people Tommy had hired to help during rush hours were kind to him, handing out pointers and telling jokes like he was just another person.
Technoblade couldn’t understand it.
Didn’t stop him from giving the work his all though.
///*///
Prime help him, this kid!
He was so earnest and adorable in a grumpy way. Though, this was the third time he growled at the dishwater for splashing on him. Maybe he should give the kid a change of pace? “Technoblade! Take this tray to the table in the back corner there, would you? And check on the group by the door, ask if they want any refills,” he called. Technoblade huffed, ear twitching in recognition, before he turned away from the sink and dried his hands. Tommy smiled as the teen took the tray full of food out into the dinning room.
And if he paused to watch how the teen did, well. That’s his business.
Maybe it was a good thing he’d stopped to watch, Technoblade was incredibly tense.
“Where’d you come from?” one of the older men called. Technoblade hunched over the tray, eyes locked on the table he was supposed to be delivering the food to. “OI! I’m talking to you! Where you from, kid?!”
“Away,” Technoblade muttered.
“Who you staying with?”
“I’m renting a room here,” Technoblade said, finally making it to the table Tommy had sent him to. Of course, Tommy was the one to see how the patrons’ faces flashed through surprise, suspicion, then settled on so falsely curious it made him want to claw their faces off.
“Oh, so you’re a friend of Innit’s then? That’s nice. Never met one of his friends from back before he settled here,” one said. Technoblade forced himself to stand up straight.
“Porkchop and green bean plate?” he asked in a drawl.
“Hey hey! We asked if…”
“I said I‘m renting a room,” Technoblade ground out, turning to face the obnoxious villager. “Not that I was a friend of Big Man Innit’s.”
“But everyone has a friend or… OH! Is he family then? Is that why he doesn’t like talking about it? Sibling got a little too…” Tommy felt nothing but proud satisfaction when Technoblade slammed the heavy serving tray into the man’s face.
“First off, you’re disgusting. Second, isn’t it considered rude to speculate on another’s past? Third, I am renting a room . This is a hotel, isn’t it? Now, can I get you a refill or are you good on your bigot juice? Sir?” Technoblade drawled, ears tilted forward and tusks bared in clear challenge. Tommy clapped, grinning, and the teen ducked his head while the rest of the dining room erupted in hoots and hollers and a few good laughs.
“Good swing, Technoblade,” Tommy praised, sauntering up and taking a look at the stunned man’s nose. “Ah, I’d say that’s a well deserved broken nose, Darrek. Maybe that’ll teach you to mind your fucking manners,” he said with a sunny smile before standing and turning to his tablemate. “Set it quickly or he’ll have a crooked nose and a worse snore when it heals. And don’t even think about buying a potion for it, I won’t sell it to you,” he said. Darrek’s friend, Rex, sighed but nodded.
To everyone’s surprise, Technoblade huffed, then crouched down, took Darrek’s nose between his hands, and snapped it back into place with a swift, clean motion.
“Wait a day or two before you try to blow the bloody snot out,” he instructed in a nearly monotone drawl. “It’ll hurt worse than the break if you try to clear it out now.” Advice given and aid rendered, Technoblade picked up the slightly bloodied tray and walked over to the group by the door. “Do any of you need refills?” he asked, a little awkward. They smiled at him and said, ‘no thank you,’ so he nodded and went back to the kitchen.
“You’re a good kid, Technoblade,” Tommy said lowly as the hybrid passed him.
“Just know how painful a poorly healed break is ‘s all,” the young teen muttered, naturally pink skin a dusky rose color. Tommy chuckled, but Eric - one of his part-time helpers - apparently had forgotten the meaning of the word subtlety as he full on cackled.
“Oh yeah, you’re going to fit right in, kid!” the older teen crowed, grinning over his shoulder. “A strong swing and a kind heart, that’s the Innit way!” Tommy glared at the boy but Eric was wholly unrepentant, even as Technoblade scuttled off to the pantry to ‘take inventory.’ “You know I’m right.”
“And you said you wouldn’t scare him off,” Tommy chided. Eric shrugged, a wide grin on his face.
“He didn’t take the apron off, did he? Relax boss, he’s tough enough to take some light teasing.”
///*///
Technoblade watched Tommy move that night’s pot of stew off the furnace and stir it vigorously - a stream of low curses flowing from the blonde’s mouth - intent on learning how to better help in the kitchen. It honestly looked like magic to the teen. “You did well today, Technoblade,” the man said, looking up from his stew to grin at him. “Folks around here tend to forget that I built this place as a hotel before the ground floor turned into the local tavern. How they keep forgetting when it’s in the bloody name, I’ve no clue.”
“You… aren’t mad I hit a customer?” Technoblade asked.Tommy laughed, high and bright, throwing back his head and closing his eyes.
“Prime kid, how could I?!” he asked, “Darrek’s an ass who needed to be set straight. Sure, if you’d pulled that stunt somewhere else, you might have gotten scolded or possibly fired, but not here. You were defending yourself and the honor of my non-existent sibling.” Technoblade sighed quietly, tension draining from his shoulders. “All the same… maybe we should let someone else handle the front of house for a while, yeah? At least until the excitement dies down.” Technoblade grumbled, but nodded. It wasn’t like he’d wanted to interact with people.
He threw himself at the remaining tasks Tommy gave him even harder.
///*//
Tommy was Very Proud of Technoblade. The teen never complained, taking all corrections with a serious look and a nod before following his example exactly. It really didn’t take him long to master the never ending cleaning jobs or the small food prep jobs Tommy would throw at him.
Though… he was a little concerned. The teen was near obsessed with his work, as light as it was.
A week into Technoblade’s stay, Tommy knocked on his door in the gray of pre-dawn, grinning at Technoblade’s grumpy face and messy bedhead. “Hey Techno. Thought you might want to try your hand at actually cooking,” he said. Technoblade’s eyes immediately snapped all the way open and the teen nodded rapidly before slamming the door in his face, presumably to get dressed. Tommy was still chuckling in the hallway when a fully dressed Technoblade fairly bounced out of the room. Tommy hummed with a fond smile, catching the boy by the shoulder. “How about we tame that mane of yours before hitting the kitchen?” he said. Technoblade flushed, ducking his head, but Tommy just chuckled and guided him up to his own room. Inside, he lightly pushed Technoblade to sit on the bed while he gathered a brush, a comb, and a soft leather tie.
Hopping up to sit behind the teen, Tommy began to hum as he brushed out the pale pink hair. Three square meals a day and access to quality shampoo and conditioner was already doing the teen some good, judging by how soft the strands were. It was beginning to even out - Tommy had his suspicions it had been cut short by force, perhaps in the middle of a fight - and was just long enough for what he had planned. He ignored how Technoblade tensed slightly as he portioned out his hair, focused on creating a neat, even French braid. In a spur of the moment decision, Tommy pulled the old gold ring from his hidden necklace and threaded it onto the leather tie.
///*///
Tommy had braided his hair.
Tommy had braided his hair!
He hadn’t even been sure if his hair was long enough for that anymore.
Pulling the almost painfully short braid over his shoulder, Technoblade couldn’t hold back a pleased chuff at the sight of the worn golden ring glistening against the dark leather and pale pink.
Tommy’s warm chuckle brought him back from the haze of instinct he was headed toward, a grounding hand on his shoulder. “Glad you like it, Techno,” the man said. Technoblade couldn’t speak, so he just leaned back and lightly tapped his head against the man’s chest. He felt more than heard Tommy laugh. “Alright, come on. Let’s get the breakfast started.” Chuffing, the teen slid off the man’s bed and stalked back down the hall toward the kitchen.
Tommy followed with a ringing laugh.
///*///
Cooking with Technoblade was pretty fun actually. Watching him monitor his first batch of scrambled eggs, staring at them like they’d catch on fire if he so much as turned around was hilarious. “When the sides firm up, push ‘em toward the middle, Techno,” he told him. All he got in return was a flick of an ear, but Techno did raise his spatula like a sword as he loomed over the pan.
Cooking with Technoblade makes Breakfast 10000 times funnier , Tommy thought with a smirk, frying up a pan of sausage.
“It’s hissing,” Technoblade stated. Tommy snorted and rotated the sizzling sausage in front of him.
“It’s supposed to, Big Man,” he said.
“How firm do the sides need to be?”
“Not runny.”
“Uhhhh… where’s the plate?” Tommy turned the heat down to low and spun around to flip Technoblade’s eggs onto a nearby plate, replacing it with a fresh one, before transferring two sausages from his pan to the plate in his hand.
“These look great, Techno! Keep up the good work!” he said, setting the plate on a warming tray and frying up some potatoes.
“How the Nether do you manage to cook breakfast for the whole town and not burn the food? Or let it all get cold?” Technoblade asked, pouring more egg into his pan.
“Practice, Big Man!” Tommy told him cheerily. “And they come in waves, so most get fresh food.”
“And they get it delivered to their tables how?”
“Oh, breakfast is first come, first serve at the counter,” Tommy answered. “And for lunch and dinner, the local teens come help out for a decent wage. Most people only come in for lunch or dinner if they live alone and or don’t feel like cooking for themselves, so I don’t feel bad about putting the kids to work. Afternoons and evenings usually see people ordering drinks or buying potions rather than meals anyway.”
“You sell potions?” Techno asked, glancing away from the eggs. Tommy laughed, flipping a spatula of potato hash.
“I don’t just sell ‘em, Tech. I brew ‘em,” he said.
“That… You… HEH?! ” Tommy couldn’t help but laugh at the hybrid’s shocked surprise.
(He really hoped the boy didn’t decide to leave. He hadn’t felt this content in a long time.)
///*///
After that, Technoblade assisted with the breakfast rush every morning, eating his share with Tommy afterward. He found he quite enjoyed cooking, actually. It was soothing, in a way. And knowing he had Tommy Innit’s potato hash recipe filled him with an odd sort of pride.
Slowly, Technoblade stopped looking over his shoulder and jumping at shadows until one day, he opened his eyes and found himself thinking about the hotel’s inventory rather than saying a quick prayer of thanks to Death for letting him survive the night.
“Death’s a kind Lady, no doubt,” Tommy said with an odd little smile when Technoblade told him - because why wouldn’t he? - “but I’d say Lady Prime has had a bigger hand in your continued safety. Then again, knowing those two, they might be in cahoots on this. Tag teaming to keep you from harm.”
“You know the Ladies Death and Prime?” Technoblade asked, eyes wide. Tommy chuckled and rubbed at the back of his neck.
“Well… I wouldn’t say I know know them just… heard stories, ya know?” he said. Technoblade gave him a deadpan stare.
“Wow. You might be a worse liar than me,” he drawled, earning a surprised bark of laughter from the tall blonde. “There a story or… ?”
“These potatoes won’t wash themselves, Tech-no-Blade.”
Let it not be said that Technoblade didn’t know when to drop a subject.
///*///
“Thanks, Motherinnit,” Tommy whispered to the stars that night. “Thanks for keeping my… for keeping Technoblade safe. Hope you and Kristin are having fun terrorizing those wrong’uns he ran away from.”
“You know you could do something about The Pit. Ensure your boy will be safe from them forever,” a chilling voice drawled from the shadows behind him.
“No. I’m just a man, running a hotel, serving food and selling drinks, helping out my community where I can. I’m no hero.”
“No. You’re the devil they forgot. Did you forget yourself?”
“Shut up. Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Tommy snarled, his back twitching. Rasping laughter echoed in his room as the presence retreated. “As if I could ever forget, you prick,” the blonde muttered darkly, stepping away from the window and snapping the curtains shut.
He didn’t need to see the stars to know they shown just a little bit brighter on the cobblestone tower he’d built for himself.
///*///
It had started as a temporary thing. Just a way for him to heal and maybe earn some more money before heading further away .
This was feeling more and more like a very much not temporary thing. He’d already been here for almost a year!
The thought of leaving… hurt. It hurt in a way Techno hadn’t expected.
That was another thing; he’d stopped thinking of himself as Technoblade. The name just… felt like a reminder. He wanted to be Just Techno, wanted to discover who he was without The Blade.
And he liked working in the kitchen. He liked cleaning the hotel. He enjoyed tending to the garden with Tommy. He liked trading playful words instead of harsh blows. He liked laughing rather than bellowing a war cry. He liked watching the potions bubble in their stands and listening to Tommy talk about how the ingredients worked together to create the desired effect.
Maybe… maybe he could… stay? Maybe… this didn’t have to end? Maybe the nightmare was over.
“Techno? You good, Big Man?” Tommy asked, looking up from his dinner - a bowl of truly delightful mushroom and potato stew.
“Yeah, just… just thinkin’,” Techno answered.Tommy hummed encouragingly, sitting up from where he’d been slightly crouched over his bowl. “Could… Would it be…” Techno snarled, annoyed at his inability to just ask!
His tail thrashed behind him. It hit the chair leg and he froze.
Tommy gave him a bittersweet smile.
“I’m not going to hurt you for displaying your emotions, Technoblade,” he said. Techno felt his ears lower without his consent at the name. “No! Wait! What did… ? Oh.” Tommy blinked, halfway out of his seat, hands raised like he wanted to grab Techno before he stopped himself. “Techno… you prefer Techno?”
“Um… yeah,” the hybrid said softly, glancing down at his hands and missing the brilliant smile spreading across Tommy’s face as he sank back down into his chair.
“That’s okay. Good. Did… was that all or… ?”
“Can I stay?” Techno asked, voice smaller and softer than he wanted.
“As long as you want, Big Man. As long as you want,” Tommy said, his words warm and soothing and everything Techno hadn’t known he’d been missing before he found The Big Innit Hotel. “Welcome home, Techno.” He grinned down as his hands, tail swaying happily behind him for the first time in what felt like forever.
“I’m home.”
///*///
Tommy took Techno shopping two days after he chose to stay indefinitely and moved to the third floor. They bought the teen clothes and new boots, a couple books, and a painting. The blonde caught Techno staring at a little pig statue and bought it with a smile and a wink behind the boy’s back. It couldn’t hurt to spoil the kid a little bit, right?
And if he bought some new curtains and cherry blossom pink embroidery floss, who was there to notice?
Besides, the other rooms on the top floor had his worst work in them. Techno deserved better.
///*///
Techno hadn’t anticipated how having something that was undeniably his would make him feel. It was… grounding. Comforting.
But… as great as the clothes in his chest and the books on his shelf were, something was missing.
“Hey Techno! I, uh… I got something for you,” Tommy said, carrying a decent sized box. “I couldn’t help noticing the only gold you have is that old ring I gave you. Feels wrong for a piglin hybrid to have so little gold so… I rounded up a few more things. You don’t have to keep all of them if you don’t like ‘em, but uh… thought you might like to look through my little collection?”
Was this what it felt like to love someone? Techno thought this might be what it was like to love someone.
Chuffing, he eagerly waved Tommy over. The man set the box in his lap then turned to leave, much to Techno’s displeasure, so the hybrid grabbed his shirt sleeve and tugged him back onto the bed. Smiling, Tommy pulled his long legs up onto the bed, getting comfortable. “This one I found in a small village in the desert,” he said, pulling out an armband inlaid with rubies. It was simple, but elegant, and Techno turned it over and over in his hands, watching the light reflect off of it. He slipped it on his arm and gave a soft squeal of surprise when it fit him. “I’m not too surprised,” Tommy said. “It fits me after all. Not well, but it fits.” Techno smiled, pleased to be wearing something from Tommy’s Hoard, and turned back to the box, pulling out another ring. “Oh,” Tommy breathed, staring at the simple golden band with a single chip of sapphire in the center. “I… I hadn’t realized…” he choked out. Techno looked back at the ring, small and oddly fragile in his hand, then nodded to himself. Moving slowly, he gently took Tommy’s hand in his, and slipped the ring onto his finger.
“You should keep it close,” he said, nodding to the ring. “Meaningful gold should be worn, not hidden away in the Hoard.” Tommy laughed, the sound oddly warbly, like he was trying not to cry.
“This… this one…” Techno curled Tommy’s fingers up into a fist, covering the ring with too scarred hands.
“Means a lot. I don’t think whoever gave it to you would want you to be ashamed of it,” he said softly.
“It… it was my mother’s,” Tommy finally said, twirling the ring around his finger.
“All the more reason for it to be worn,” Techno said with a nod. “Keeps family close.” Tommy chuckled, reaching into the box to pull out another piece and launching into a story of a daring adventure to the bottom of the sea.
The two spent a good two hours going through the box and telling stories. Techno ended up only keeping half the items while Tommy walked out wearing more jewelry than he had in years.
///*///
“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you wear that ring, I’d almost thought you’d lost it.”
“I thought I had.”
“He’s right, you know.”
“I’m not ashamed of it.”
“You’re scared.”
“I don’t want to go back to who I was.”
“It was never your heritage at fault.”
“Wasn’t it?”
“No. It was him . It was always him.”
“I have so much more to lose…”
“You won’t. Not with our family at your back.”
“Even after all this time?”
“Always, Sunbeam. Always.”
///*///
The tavern was incredibly busy and more than half the usual help was unavailable for various reasons so, for the first time in months, Techno took up a tray and started serving patrons while Tommy and the others slaved away in the kitchen.
The townsfolk didn’t stare as much, now that Techno had been seen out and about with Tommy, but there were a few rare visitors to the mountain hamlet. Fear warred with duty as Techno strode to and fro between the tables, taking and delivering orders. The newcomers were strangers, but the world had taught Techno to be wary all the same. So what if he hadn’t seen them at The Pit? They could still be Hybrid Traffickers!
All the same, he walked over to take their orders.
“Good eveningl, my name is Techno. What can I get for you tonight?” he asked, proud that his voice didn’t waver.
“Techno? Who names their kid Techno ?” one of the men asked.
“Forget the name, who hires a piglin hybrid to wait tables?” another asked, sneering at Techno and his ears.
“Sir, please give me your order or you’re not gettin’ yer food,” Techno stated, just shy of pleading.
“No. I want to know what idiot hired you to work in a tarven!”
“First, it’s a hotel,” Techno growled, lips pulling back to bare the tips of his tusks. “Second, the owner of this hotel is not an idiot. Third… I won’t ask you again, what is your order?”
“See? This is what I mean! Only an idiot would hire a talking pig to wait on paying customers!” Techno grit his teeth, a dull roar growing in his ears, when a firm hand landed on his shoulder and goldgoldgold entered his peripheral vision.
“I’d thank you not to talk about my brother like that,” Tommy said, his eyes like pits of ice.
“Your wha…” the second man began, turning to face the blonde, before freezing. His skin went pale and he began to shake. “You… you’re…”
“Big Man Innit, the owner of this fine hotel,” Tommy stated, moving to stand in front of Techno with his arms crossed, glaring down at the strangers.
Techno barely noticed the gold ring with a chip of sapphire clearly on display, but the first man’s eyes were glued to it.
“I’m terribly sorry, Primeson. It won’t happen again,” he said, still fixed on the ring. Tommy snorted.
“Damn straight,” he said. “Cause I’m banning you from my establishment. Get out before I toss you out,” he added with a growl.
The men scarpered and Techno was left to gape at his boss.
His boss who apparently was more than he let on.
His boss who had just claimed him as family.
“Ah… Sorry about that, Techno,” Tommy said with a sheepish smile, rubbing at his shoulder. “Seems I still have a problem with acting before I think.”
“It’s fine,” Techno said, ducking his head. He had a ton of questions, but even he knew now wasn’t the time nor the place for them.
“You’re sure?” Tommy asked, tilting his chin up. Techno gave him a faint smile.
“Yeah big man, I’m sure.”
“You good to keep running orders out or do you want to just place them on the counter and help with the prep?”
“I’m good. Go makes sure the food doesn’t burn,” Techno said, hefting his tray and heading over to another table.
///*//
What had he done?
What had he actually done?
What had possessed him to do that?!
‘ You know what, Sunbeam. ’
He snorted. And she’d been telling him his heritage wasn’t what had gotten him in trouble before. ‘ What do you call this then, motherinnit? Cause I call this my heritage getting me in trouble! ’
All he got was ghostly laughter in return.
He mentally flipped his mother off. (Her laughter just got louder.)
///*///
Finally, the tavern was closed for the night and the pair could sit by the fire with their dinner and talk. “So… brother?” Techno asked, looking up at Tommy through sweeping bangs that refused to stay in his braid.
“Ah… well… ya see…” Tommy stammered, reaching up to his shoulder. Techno had noticed the man only did that when he was anxious about something so he sighed and looked away.
“I’ve never had a brother before,” he admitted.
“And I’ve only had an example of what a bad brother is so… we’re learning together,” Tommy told him, his voice oddly fragile.
“I think… I think I’d like to learn what a brother is. With you,” Techno said. Tommy laughed a little breathlessly and ran a hand through his hair.
“Good… good. I honestly don’t know what I would have done if you had said you didn’t like the idea. Cry, probably,” he said.
“Ha. L,” Techno huffed, tail swaying happily behind him.