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Walking down the street past his agency still worries Phil despite his years of working there.
It shouldn’t be a problem, and even with the appearance he meticulously chose for himself in the morning he had discovered he had the day off doesn’t quell this worry. If you’d ask anyone who knows him, they’d say, “oh that’s just Phil.” but there’s a reason he keeps people at an arm’s length. The tattoos on his back itch and burn, but he ignores the feeling, the same way he does every day off of work.
Funny how his body still hasn’t gotten used to this routine. Funny how anyone he bumps into, by accident or otherwise, still gives Phil a split-second of panic. His wings aren’t visible, thank goodness.
Why does he still worry, then?
Phil immediately apologizes to the person he had bumped into, eyes wide and words muddled together. He receives nothing more than “it’s fine” before the person walks off. How perplexing. No hurried apologies, no comments on his striking resemblance to his hero persona, nothing. Just that his apology was acknowledged with the most deadpan expression he had received from anybody before.
Phil’s face slackens as he realizes he doesn’t have to interact more than was necessary. The itching almost becomes unbearable and is dismissed as much as the thoughts running through his head. That stranger… That stranger was something.
Intriguing.
That night was spent preening and thinking about that same stranger Phil had bumped into. The usual temptation to pluck feathers was less apparent than usual. He knows it’s unhealthy, but this time is different. He’s distracted, even if he knows nobody would notice that his flight was more stunted depending on how many feathers he took. His mind took in every detail of that face even if they weren’t close enough to warrant it.
Phil sleeps, surprisingly, but wasn’t surprised about those thoughts surviving even in his dreams.
It’s odd when he bumps into the same person less than a week later, again on his day off. This strikes a slightly longer conversation between them, along the lines of “Fancy seeing you here.” from Phil. He receives the slightest twitch of a smile before they move on. He scrambles just to ask them their name. “Wh-what’s your name? I’m Phil.” He doesn’t receive an answer until next week in the form of an annoyed “Techno.” is spit from their lips.
Phil beams wider than he means to.
More information is shared throughout the next few weeks, their meetings becoming planned routine instead of coincidence. Becoming friends with one Technoblade, was interesting in itself, considering his stoic appearance was different from how he acted when Phil first met him.
Techno still hadn’t seen his wings though. He hasn’t seen the things Phil holds close to his heart for fear of being judged by his newfound friend. What did he expect, Techno was admittedly sort of unpredictable with his reactions. The only thing Phil could predict was the unwavering indifference on Techno’s face as he stated his opinion. That man was deadpan from beginning to end and sometimes Phil found that endearing. But he also finds it terrifying, so telling Techno about his wings is out of the question, at least for now. The burning is worth being able to talk to the one person who understands him and doesn’t mention the obvious.
It’s not like Techno noticed the tattoos anyway, right? He hasn’t mentioned it if he has.
The urge to tell him doesn’t disappear though. In fact, every week that passes that Phil keeps this secret the urge grows stronger and stronger. He’s stumbling over his words occasionally, and the ache in his back doesn’t help his situation. Most nights his wings are gone, out of sight out of mind Phil supposes.
Four months after he had met Techno they sit in a booth at the same cafe they’ve been meeting at for the last couple of months or so, and Phil is nervous. Techno is giving him an odd look. “Ya need to calm down, you’re freakin me out. Take a deep breath.” He follows Techno’s instructions then leans over the table to relax and brush off the near unbearable pain of days of ignoring his wings. Phil can still feel the call and instinct to preen them, and he avoids it nonetheless.
He laughs softly. “I’m just a bit tired, mate. Don’t worry about me.” He sounds exhausted, even to himself, prompting a breath of a laugh from the other. “Right, like you wouldn’t be concerned about me if I said that.” Right. Phil sits up from the table, resting back and wiggling his shoulders against the back of his chair to itch his shoulder blades. He doesn’t notice the questioning look Techno gives as he watches Phil squirm in his seat. “Sure you don’t want me walkin you home?” This makes the corvid look up at him, see the worry set into his features. “Ask me again and you might get a different answer.” Phil jokes and continues before the other can ask again. “I’m kidding, I don’t need it but some company would be nice.” Techno shrugs, relaxing into his seat even if the unease hasn’t left his expression.
Food is eaten, yet it doesn’t help the fatigue settling into Phil’s bones, quite the opposite really. His eyes threaten to close on him and he has to focus all of the little energy he has left on where he is going. Halfway home and Techno has to intervene and lend an arm for him to lean onto. He takes it, though grumbling that he is fine by himself, and gains a chuckle from the other.
A few droplets on the ground and their skin alert the two of what’s to come and they hurry the rest of the way. They barely make it to the door before the major downpour, Phil laughing at the circumstances that led to this moment. He unlocks the door and stumbles in, turning on various lights before resting against the doorframe of his bedroom. Techno stands by the front door, looking slightly lost and a little confused. “Come in, come in, close the door behind ya.” He gestures to the man, getting an eye roll and a closed door for his efforts.
“Ya gonna be okay on the couch?” Phil asks, drifting on the edge of falling asleep standing. “Might have to, rain’s comin down hard.” Techno notes, glancing out the window at the rain drizzling down in front of the glass. He taps on the glass, then turns to look at Phil. “You gonna be alright gettin to bed?” This makes the corvid laugh, albeit tiredly, and nod. “Yes, I’ll be fine.” He resists the urge to call Techno’s worrying cute. It’s obvious even to himself that today has taken a toll on him, so getting to bed right away had been planned already.
Techno walks over, smiles that sort of half-smirk he has when he’s trying not to express what he really wants to and nods toward Phil’s bedroom. “Better get to bed then, if you’re as fine as you keep tellin me you are.” Phil nods, agreeing with him, and turns to walk in and get ready for bed. He barely registers the door closing behind him, glancing and confirming his suspicions. He pauses, walking over to the door to lock it before letting his wings breathe. “These damn things are gonna be the death of me..” He mutters under his breath as fingers are carded through the appendages starved for air. Phil takes a deep breath and forces them back into their little invisible box and flops onto his bed, hearing the shuffling of feet by his door and then nothing after he falls asleep.
It’s quiet the rest of the night, and the next day is even quieter. Phil wakes up to his alarm and groans, going through the motions of getting ready for work. He pauses in the middle of his kitchen, mind buffering over what or who was supposed to be in the living room. Then it hits him, or rather, the note on the counter comes into his peripheral.
“Rain let up, see you next week” -T
That smug bastard. A laugh erupts from Phil’s mouth as he reads the note. He thought about it that morning as he preened his wings before work. He thought about it that entire day as it rained on and off and he helped people. He thought about it that night before he went to bed.
He thought about Techno that entire week too, but that’s not new.
The note comes up in conversation at their next meeting, though it’s expected. “You’re a cheeky bastard, leaving that note on my counter, you know that?” He comments, glancing down at Techno who lets out that soft chuckle of his. “Oh, you saw that? Almost forgot I wrote it, to be honest.” Phil laughs, laughs too hard he thinks. He doesn’t let that get to him though. “Thank you, by the way, for walking me home last week. Must have come down with something, I was really out of it.” Techno nods, lacing his fingers over the table like he’s about to close a business deal. “You’re okay now though, right?” With how long Phil’s known him, it almost sounds like pleading. “Yeah, I’m fine now mate.”
He can’t help but sound excited to himself, talking with Technoblade. He finds that he’s made peace with it though, as much as he can without spilling his secrets to the one person he somehow trusts most. Said person doesn’t look too convinced by Phil’s supposed clean bill of health. “If you say so, you’re lookin a bit worse for wear.” He doesn’t want to admit that he’s had a few sleepless nights lately, back pain will do that to a person, but he doesn’t want to lie either. “Haven’t been sleeping well, that’s all.” It’s mostly the truth, but it still doesn’t persuade Techno.
“Just get some sleep, man. Simple as that. Don’t make me break into your house and force you to sleep.” He sounds almost deadly serious but it makes Phil laugh. “Of course, cause you know how to pick a lock.” Techno’s expression turns mischievous. “I do, and I’d be glad to test it on your door or window if you don’t get sleep tonight.” The corvid puts his hands up in surrender, continuing to laugh. “Alright, alright, you made your point. I believe you.” The other’s face softens, and Phil glances away casually enough as his mind fills with that overly fond look Techno is giving him.
He sighs, looking out the window, voice low as he notes the weather. “Looks like rain again tonight.” Techno hums in agreement, tilting his head to look over, before resuming. “Think you’re gonna get to your place okay?” Phil nods, looking back at him. “I’ll be fine, it’s you I’m worried about. Didn’t you say you lived across town or something?” The smirk returns with a quickness and fear flashes through his head for just a second. “Scared of a little rain, Phil?” The fear fades as quickly as it had come. “Not afraid, no. Just a healthy respect for it.” He retorts matter-of-factly, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat, barely containing a wince with the sensitive skin on his back.
Phil’s pretty sure that Techno saw him. Techno is pretty sure that Phil is in more pain than he’s letting on.
Neither budge for a while, and then they talk over each other for a moment. “I need to go-” “Are you sure you’re-” Techno clears his throat and gestures for the other to talk first. Phil sighs, unfolding his arms, and leans forward on the table. “I probably need to get going soon, don’t wanna get caught in the rain yknow.” They both nod, the silence suddenly becoming more awkward than either of them expected.
After a while, Techno gets up, offering a hand. “I’ll walk you home then.” Ever the gentleman. Phil takes it, takes the help up, and dusts himself off. “Alrighty then, what are we waiting for?” Another mutual nod and they’re out the door, side by side and walking through the streets. The same droplets as last week, but less warning before the downpour. Phil shrieks and rushes home on instinct, Techno following close behind with a laugh.
The corvid scrambles and unlocks his door as quickly as he can, groaning when he walks in completely drenched. He stops the other at the door with a hand to Techno’s chest. “Stay here, I’ll grab some towels..” Phil rushes across the carpet to a nearby closet full of towels and returns with a few, tossing half to the other to start drying. “Damned rain… Couldn’t it have waited another couple minutes?” He mutters to himself as he dries his hair, droplets sliding down his back beneath his shirt and causing his shoulders to tremble.
Phil can feel eyes on him, setting the wet towel in a hamper and eyeing Techno back. The man is quiet, simply watching him. He raises an eyebrow. “Will you need a change of clothes, or are you fine with what you have on?” Techno starts, clearing his throat and asking for Phil to repeat himself. The bird huffs out a laugh and walks off, gesturing for the other to follow. “I’ll grab you something to wear for tonight cause it doesn’t look like the rain is letting up anytime soon.” He explains, rummaging through his drawers and tossing clothes he thinks would fit at Techno.
The man simply walks out and finds the bathroom to change in, and Phil takes a moment to stretch and scratch at his back. It helps, but barely, and the burning remains more obvious. He can imagine that it looks like a rash bubbling up and around his tattoos, and he breathes in deeply and shakily. Good thing his hoodie is warm and long-sleeved, he doesn’t have to worry about it looking the way it feels. Another deep shaky breath and he walks out in dry clothes, walking immediately to the couch in an attempt to relax.
When Techno walks in, Phil isn’t sure what he was expecting. He stifles a laugh with his hand, turning it into a snigger. “Th-the clothes fit you alright?” He asks, barely holding back. Techno nods, sending Phil an almost playful glare. “Yes, Phil, the clothes fit alright.” They didn’t really. They were a couple of sizes too big and were hanging off of Techno’s frame slightly but neither of them was going to mention it. Instead, he sat down next to Phil and heaved a sigh, twisting to look out the window. “It’s really comin down hard..” He hums, getting up off the couch. “I’m gonna go make cocoa or somethin, you want anything while I’m up?” The corvid leans forward to try and sit up, but even those small movements make the pain in his back worsened. Phil groans in discomfort but doesn’t return to his place on the couch for fear of increasing the agony he’s already in.
Techno pauses, glancing back at the man before making a decision and walking into the kitchen. The bird slowly moves back up, turning and laying onto his stomach on the couch. Phil’s eyes close, breathing shallow and taking all he has in himself to avoid the inkling in the back of his mind telling him to let his wings free.
This is fine. Definitely.
He doesn’t know how long it is before Techno returns, only focusing on the pain and ensuring that he is as comfortable and quiet as possible. It’s hard, he wants to groan and complain, but he has a guest who doesn’t even know he has those things on his back so that would just make him into more of a burden. There’s a single tap on the back of his head, and he looks up at Techno. “I made you some tea, is that okay?” He nods, pushing himself up and breathing through his nose as he sits up, skin sensitive against even the soft hoodie he’s wearing. “Yeah, that’s okay.” He finally answers, looking at Techno and taking the offered mug. “Thank you Techno.” He mumbles, unable to sit comfortably against the backrest of his own couch as he wiggles against his chosen clothing and tries not to spill the tea the other had so graciously made for him.
Phil sips his tea slowly, humming softly as it had been made more perfectly than he had before. He ignores the concerned look from Techno as he continues to shift and wiggle in his seat before just leaning forward, but not as much as before. He almost grunts in frustration, standing suddenly and setting the cup on the counter before walking off to his room. Phil swore he was going to pluck all of his feathers out until there’s nothing left if this damned pair of wings is going to cause him any more agony. The fear grips onto him, the fear of being found out even with all of his weird behavior because of hiding his wings scares him and causes him to simply pace in his room.
Knocks at his door alert him to the aforementioned houseguest checking in on him. “Uhh, you sure you’re okay Phil?” The bird looks at Techno with an incredulous expression before melting to his knees and admitting what’s wrong. “No, not really..” The man walks in and sits with his legs crossed as he looks up at Phil. “Mind tellin me what’s got you all hung up?” He shakes his head, looking to Techno, and sighing. “I’m just tired, Tech.” He mumbles, hands moving between scrunching the sleeves of his hoodie at the elbow and pulling them so they’re at his wrists. Techno sets a hand on the other’s shoulder, feeling the bird trembling and rubbing his back. He pauses, looking to Phil in questioning. He seems to hesitate before asking his question. “Hey, whatever it is you don’t wanna tell me, you know I won’t judge you right?”
Phil avoids his gaze, feeling caught between a rock and a hard place. “Can you just, give me a minute to myself?” The other nods, getting up but halting at the door for a moment before walking out and closing the door behind him. The corvid takes this time to breathe, though harsh, and tear off the hoodie to let his wings out. They flutter and tremble against the floor, Phil’s breathing growing rough and quick as his hands move through feathers. They file through his primaries and secondaries, pulling out feathers left and right but not feeling it.
He doesn’t even register knocking on his door or his door even opening until he hears his name being spoken frantically. Phil looks up, breath stopping as Techno stands in the doorway. Neither says a word for the longest time, the silence deafening. He doesn’t see the concerned frown, only anger, he doesn’t realize the reason behind Techno’s anger is because of the feathers on the ground, not the ones still on his wings.
“Get out.” His words come out panicked and short, and he repeats himself louder. “Get out!” Techno doesn’t move for a moment, and when he closes the door he’s inside the room not outside. He’s terrifyingly calm, moving to kneel next to Phil who curls into himself in shame. Neither make a sound nor move an inch for a long time before Phil starts to calm down and let the exhaustion seep into his bones. “So,” Techno starts, after making sure the other is in a calmer state of mind. “Are we gonna talk about this?” Phil shakes his head, keeping his head down and not having enough energy to stuff his wings back into their invisible box.
“Okay.” Techno takes a deep breath, hesitating before placing a hand to Phil’s wings and stopping when the bird flinches. “You’re okay.” He murmurs, starting to pet the appendages again. Each feather trembles in trepidation as he spends every moment waiting for Techno to rip them out or say something else.
He doesn’t though. Why?
Phil slowly looks up at him, face contorting in confusion and fear. Techno is serene, almost. “I don’t understand..” The man looks up, continues petting the slightly mangled wings, and frowns in concern. “Just, nothing? That’s it?” Phil gets a nod, nothing else. His mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, and it seems to be evident in his expression as Techno pulls him close into a hug. He’s still shaking, taking a moment to process before holding onto the other as if he’ll leave. An inkling in the back of his mind tells Phil that he won’t but he’s not about to take chances.
It takes everything in him not to collapse completely into Techno’s arms, even with the man murmuring reassurances into his ear. He can’t help but flinch with every touch to his damaged primaries, but the contact isn’t unwelcome. It takes a long time for him to get used to hands other than his own touching his wings, and even longer for the exhaustion to catch up with him fully and pull at his eyelids.
Phil’s sleep is dreamless as he’s held by Techno, feeling safer than before in his arms.
The morning is strangely quiet as he wakes up on his stomach in his own bed, wings properly preened and the places he had plucked feathers from cleaned adequately. Phil sighs and sits up, stretches until his joints pop, and moves out of bed with his wings folded carefully behind him. He covers a yawn with a hand as he walks out to the kitchen to make sure that his phone had been charging the entire night to discover that it has been, to his delight. He sets his phone back onto the counter and wanders into the living room to find Techno asleep on the couch, making him pause and simply watch the man for a few minutes. If anyone had seen Phil at this moment, he’d have this overly fond look on his face, and he’d deny it as long as he could.
After this moment was over he walked back into the kitchen to start on coffee and a small breakfast before he had to get ready for work. It is an unfortunate schedule, but he fought long and hard for this one day off and he had spent it fearing for his life so work today it was. Hopefully it isn’t as boring as it usually is, or Phil would cause a ruckus just to be able to solve it. He sighs, finishing up with breakfast and making sure the coffee pot is still warm for when Techno wakes up. Carefully and quietly putting his hero tech on and grabbing his phone, he considers writing an equally cheeky note to Techno. A smirk plays at his lips as he scribbles something on a post-it before he leaves.
“Hope you brought an umbrella. See you next week?” -P