.
You were awake.
You were awake and cozied in pelts.
Techno was asleep, lying on his stomach and snoozing peacefully away.
You kind of wish you were still asleep.
But there was a persistent buzz in the back of your head that forced you to just- exist.
A sensitive hyperawareness was now constantly burning in your head, tuned specifically into everything related to Technoblade.
Where he was, what he was doing, when you accidentally brushed hands, or how he made a chuffling noises whenever he was amused.
Everything he did, you were aware of now.
Constantly.
Sometimes you wouldn't even be consciously trying to take tabs on him.
You don't know what scared you more- the fact that you were doing it, or that you had been always doing it, but now you were self aware.
Gods.
You rolled over, back facing him trying to focus your thoughts, maybe go back to snoozing.
His breaths were deep, and calming, slow and heavy. The perfect picture of slumber.
Come to think of it, Techno used to never sleep, but since arguing about who got the bed all those days ago, it's become such a consistent custom for the both of you.
You both sleep. Here. Together. And you both wake up. Here.
Body to body.
You feel your face ignite and frown at the wall.
No.
You guys are friends.
You can't be weird about this.
Techno stirs, and you hear him shifting around. He wiggles closer to you, chin settling atop your head, arm sliding up your form before comfortably curling near the bottom of your ribcage.
He was leaning some of his weight on you, warmth encompassing your back and you couldn't help but close your eyes with contentment.
A low short croon unwillingly came from somewhere in your vocal chords, addressed to a sleeping Techno.
Warmth brushed your face and you rolled over, face to neck, chest to chest, you could feel your legs getting tangled.
A deep inhale in.
A deep exhale out.
He smelled good.
Safe.
His pink hair tickled your nose and cheeks.
Your hand raised, threading through his locks and pulling them from around his neck, gently pulling and dropping them loosely on the side of the bed where his back was.
A part of you wanted to sink your hands into his hair, run up the back of his neck and feel just how soft it was.
But you didn't. You tried to keep your touching restrained- he wasn't some dog you can just pet.
A grumble came from him.
A yawn followed after.
You felt his ribs expand as he breathed, felt his chin pushing at your head as he groggily seemed to come to.
You didn't want to break the silence, and you didn't want him to start getting up and handle chores, so you did the reasonable thing.
Wrapping your arms as best you could you pulled him to you, squeezing like a hug and nuzzling into the warmth.
Maybe it was selfish to expect that he would be okay with you doing that.
That you, as a friend, is allowed to just cuddle into him.
But instead, your gesture is returned, both his arms firmly encircling you, squeezing you, palms holding you, thumbs swirling circles into the flesh of your skin.
You felt warm.
Very warm.
A giddy feeling was light in your chest, matched evenly with another crooning noise.
You wanted to be closer. So close.
Crawl under his skin kind of close, but you didn't know how close was too close for him.
Chuffling sounded from him, Techno's amused chuckling vibrating in his throat and chest.
From waist, to ribs, to waist again, his thumbs rubbed, before fingers interlaced and he firmly tucked himself against you and stilled.
This.
This felt really good.
Everything about this.
"...mmm-" he grumbled, tiredly trying to lean his head back to look down at you, still tucked close to his neck.
You grumbled, which spurred him to continue, "How'd you sleep?"
When you didn't respond he sighed, giving you a squeeze and dragging you with him when he rolled onto his back.
Out of surprise you wiggled, head peeling off him to stare. Both your hands were pressed against his chest, and you felt the broad muscles under his skin tense at the action.
Against yourself and what you would never do, when you see the slightest hint of embarrassment on his face, you dig into it the way a hawk catches a mouse.
A grin is spreading across your face, "I could be getting better sleep right now." You say, no bite, but your hands are slowly sliding up his chest.
"Uh huh." He murmurs. Outwardly his face appears blank, but the small flush splattering his cheekbones is prevalent.
The farther up your hands go, the closer you get to laying back down, chin slowly lowered to rest on his body.
Your hands are reaching past his chest, up up up- closer-
You're aware of Techno's jaw tensing.
And the way his hands twitched.
Stopping is probably for the best, so rather then slipping up his face, you turn it into a stretch, pulling your body out and yawning, arching in his hold as best you could.
What were you even going to do?
Sink your hands into his hair? Lean down and press a kiss to the edge of his scarred eyebrow?
You're friends.
Or something.
A nagging feeling in the back of your head stated the thought of, 'but he doesn't let other friends do this.'
You huff, loudly, in fustration and restlessness.
"Where'd you get the scar on your face?" You ask, eyes looking at him, trying to focus your head.
You're the only one doing these weird head games. Techno's probably just vibing right now and you're being weird.
"Which one." He asks, making a grunt noise and shifting how he was positioned, settling into the bed more comfortably, and in doing so fully pulling you atop him.
"Uhh- this one." You say, lifting a hand and gently tapping the one that sliced down his right eyebrow and eye and cheekbone.
His eyes watch your fingers, "That was from some arena fight. Leaned too far into my swing. Was younger and made more mistakes."
You pictured him, swiping down at someone and reeling back when an opponents sword retaliates. Blood gushing from his face, features controlled and steeled as he focused on the enemies behind the body he just felled.
"What about this one?" You ask, lightly brushing your fingers from his cheekbone, to his nose, where a thick short slice was lopsided farther on the left then right.
He chuffed, "When I still lived in the nether I hit my nose really hard on some blackstone."
You wince.
"It's been healed for a long time." Techno states as he reads your expression.
"No doubt."
Both hands slide to his neck, thumbing at the rugged patch of what looked like used to be shredded skin. You felt his heart beat pick up.
When you look up, his eyes are watching you closely, slowly dilating.
"Where'd this one come from?" You ask, ignoring the heat that hit your face at how intense the eye contact was.
"An enderman." A soft puttering rumble starts in his chest, quieter then you know it can be, "He tried to rip my throat out. And he kind of did."
Gore rushing out, coughs spluttering and body heaving. An enderpearl lifeless on the ground.
Another wince makes its way across your face, and Techno makes a grunt at it, pulling his hands off your waist to settle around your face instead.
"I lived through them. Technoblade doesn't die." Is his soft whisper.
"But it hurt."
He squints at you, pulling your head in to bonk his forehead against yours, noses bumping, breathing even.
He pulls your head back before you get to notice much more, giving you another squinted look before shifting his hands to your cheeks, "You should be smiling cause I'm here right now-"
His hands pull your cheeks, forcing a teethy smile while you look as blankly at at him as you could.
" RUhH- I can 'arely shk'eak-" your hands are swatting at him fending off the invasive grabbing, and his chest is rumbling with a laugh.
You stare impassivly as a grin grows on his face the longer you fight his hands.
Settling on grabbing his wrists, you give them a tug before he relents.
Thick fingers unlatching from the skin of your face, letting your frown comfortably settle.
His head is leaning back into the pillow, a snarking laugh coming out of him.
He was so pleased with his work.
Big stupid brute.
You squint at him, his eyes closed as he laughs- you can fix that.
Using your now freed hands, you grab at the edges of his mouth, latching onto the skin and trying to pull it down into a frown, which has Techno shaking with another fresh laugh.
His eyes squint open at you, facial muscles fighting your hands to hold the grin.
He retaliates, grabbing your wrists like you did to him.
Instead of pulling your hands away, he pulls them closer.
To his mouth.
His jaws snap shut with a click, close enough to your hands to make you jump.
An offended gasp comes out of you, and Techno laughs, pressing his closed teeth to your palms.
"ALRIGHT PaL." You grit, pulling and pulling at your trapped hands, "You release me or I'll-..." You stare down at him.
Techno's grin is evil, "Or you'll what?" His breath is hot on your hands.
"I'll make you regret it."
"Doubtful."
Bet.
With a warrior yell you start full body wriggling around. Like a mad worm, you will yourself to start twisting and twisting.
Techno's grunt of surprise is a short lived victory when he decides to rolls over and completely flatten you with his body weight.
You wheeze- breath smushed out of you, shutting your eyes and tensing your body.
You hear him laugh, and you feel his grip on your wrists keep your hands pinned to the bed.
The rumbles in his chest haven't stopped, and you feel the noise through your ribcage.
Eyelids squinting open, you can only see part of his shoulder and the spruce attic ceiling above. His head is buried in the pillow next to your face.
You make a displeased noise, glaring at the mop of pink hair next to you.
He snorts in retort, but is still against you.
"Techno- you dying?" You deadpan, feeling how limp his body got, tempted to start wheezing again with all the weight currently pancaking you, "Cause I'm dying. You're heavy."
He snorts again, but doesn't respond. Merely laying limply there and rumbling all softly to himself.
Even the grip on your wrists that used to be so unbreakable were loose.
With a roll of your eyes and a little bit of self indulgence, you lift your arms up to snake around his neck in a hug.
One of your hands slides up the back of his neck, (guess you couldn't resist the draw after all) sinking into the mess of pink curls and gently scratching at nothing in particular.
The rumbles get louder, and you swear Techno gets even more limp, head nudging closer to you before turning into dead weight again.
"You're like a big weighted blanket." You hum, "One that actually crushes my lunges."
No response.
You don't bother stopping the scratching, just holding him close and thinking to yourself.
Thinking about how this feels nice. For as much as you put a stink on about fighting him and grappling for strength, it was nice to just limply lay in comfort.
It also felt weird. You felt like you were pushing boundaries.
But- is it pushing a boundary when Techno initiated almost all of this?
What are Techno's boundaries?
You remember thinking that question a long while ago, when you first came to Pogtopia. When Techno regarded you with a calculated squint and slow words.
When he didn't trust you, but still found something about your company worth the effort to be cordial to you.
Now he's limp in your arms, purring, no weapons, no mask, vulnerable to any attack. To any knife you decide to sink into his back.
Which, you wouldn't. Never. You see no point to it.
But you know Techno thinks about those kinds of things.
You know Techno is always suspecting the people closest to him to stab him from behind.
And yet he's being as vulnerable as he is now.
With you.
A flush hits you again, cheeks heating unwillingly.
You must be like- his most ultimate friend. Next to Phil.
'A shame.' Is the only thing you can think to that thought.
"Techno?" You hum, pausing the head scritches.
He doesn't stir, and you notice the purring has stopped.
"Tech buddy, did you die for real?" You whisper, turning your face and being met with a mouthful of pink hair.
"I hate to be the bearer of news, but Carl is hungry. And Tommy's gonna get cold if we don't start the fire. And you have such big plans on fixing your armor."
No response.
You use one of your hands to pull his hair back, revealing his ear which you lean into and softly say, "Wakey wakey time."
He shifts, making a disgruntled noise and using his hand to point your head back towards the attic ceiling and away from his ear.
You expected him to go back to laying there, but instead he moves his head, nose brushing your hair as he settled right next to your ear.
Hot breath against skull- teeth nearly grazing you.
"You make horrible points. And yet you are right." With that, he huffs, pushes himself up and looks down at you.
Straddled between his legs.
You catch his eyes dilating as he swings himself over the edge of the bed, tip toeing around the room to grab his usuals.
You squint, also sitting up and trying to not think about any of the affection that was just shared.
"Crown-" you say, grabbing the crown off the endtable and twirling it around towards him.
He makes an appreciative noise, plucking it off your fingers and pausing to look at you again.
You tilt your head at the stare.
Before you can question it, he's setting the crown on his head, and tromping over to the trapdoor.
"I'll start breakfast."
Is the last words he mutters before slinking down the ladder.
You think you might have a heart attack.
The low croon in your throat bubbles again, but you bite your tongue and stand up.
Another day.