Work Text:
“How has Hardcore been?”
Philza smiles quietly, leaning into Techno’s side. They’ve been moving things all day, getting Techno all settled into his new house out in the arctic, so this brief moment of peace, curled up on his friend’s couch, warmed by the crackling fire… It’s nice. Especially with everything going on in L’manburg.
Phil hasn’t heard anything specific, but there’s tension simmering beneath the surface, and… of course there’s the wanted posters going up.
Techno’s offered to bail him out of there about a thousand times, at least; he promises Philza safety and quiet companionship out here in the arctic, and it’s certainly a tempting thought. Techno’s been too far away for too long, and Phil wants it to be them again-- Phil and Techno, Techno and Phil, and he gets the feeling Techno wants the same. Phil wants to keep him close, wants to make sure his brain doesn’t eat him alive, wants to make sure that after that disaster of a rebellion, Techno knows that he is cherished and he is loved and he is a man and not a blade. Sometimes, when he’s selfish, he wants to let Techno convince him, he wants to be held through his night terrors and wants to feel careful hands preening through his wings.
He can’t stay. Techno needs him in L’manburg, whether he realizes it or not. He deserves his rest, which is the least Phil can offer him, and he won’t let his friend be caught off-guard a second time.
And oh, shit, Techno asked him a question, didn’t he?
“It’s been fine.” Phil answers with a shrug. “Quiet as ever. The Empress misses your company.”
Techno laughs a bit at that, a small, rumbling little thing from deep in his chest. “She misses me bein’ your impulse control, is what she misses.”
“Maaaybe.” Phil huffs out a laugh of his own. “I mean really, who can say?”
“Truly a mystery. Truly.” Techno smiles with a fond roll of his eyes. “And your Lady? She’s doing well?”
“Of course.” Philza softens then, just a little. The sharpened edges of his grin smooth down into something quieter, fonder. “She’s busy, but She’s well. I’ll miss Her, while I’m here.”
And he will miss Her, of that he's sure. They’ve been apart for longer, yes— but that doesn’t make it any easier, that doesn’t mean he won’t await the letters his crows bring him with bated breath.
“Sap.” Techno declares, and Phil shoves him in the shoulder for it.
“Oh, piss off,” Phil protests with a bark of laughter. “I missed you while you were gone too, idiot.”
“Saaap.” Techno pushes. “Pretty soon you’re gonna be spoutin’ poetry at me, Phil. I don’t even know you anymore.”
Philza hums, and they lapse into comfortable silence.
He closes his eyes, and if he listens, really listens, he can hear Endlantis sing for him quietly, he can smell sea salt on the breeze and feel the buzz of life in the air. His domain, gifted to him in the absence of a long dead king, beckons it’s angel home.
He misses home. He can miss the superficial things from time to time-- his house on the beach, his old books and notes, fishing while the crows pester him for a story, but no-- he misses Home. He misses the way the wind whispers and the stones chatter and the ocean hums, and the stars, they say the loveliest things that he could never hope to put into words. He misses a world that lives and breathes and sings all around him. He misses living in a world that loves him back.
He can’t feel it here, or at least, it’s not the same. Everything’s… muted. The snow outside Techno’s cabin doesn’t murmur quite the same and the wind that rattles the shutters doesn’t howl the way that it should.
His first night here, he looked up at the sky and realized the stars aren’t where they’re supposed to be. Phil’s heart still aches.
Still, though-- when things are quiet, when he can find it in himself to focus, Home still calls to him. Not gone, just far away. He could return.
They could return.
Phil opens his eyes.
“We could go back,” Phil says, and Techno stills. “You and me, we could go.”
He looks over at Techno, shifts how he’s sitting to face him. His friend stares back at him, brow furrowed slightly.
“Phil--”
“Not for long,” He adds, and he’s… he doesn’t want to push, but he wants Techno to just consider it. “Not forever. Just--”
Just until I know you’re safe. Just until you’re not hurting anymore. Just until you know how loved you are.
He takes Techno’s hand. “Just until things have cooled down.”
Techno is quiet, and he doesn’t meet Phil’s eyes. Phil lets him think, lets him breathe.
“If I go,” Techno says, and he stares down at their hands, intertwined. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to make myself come back.”
Would that be so bad? Philza thinks, but can’t bring himself to say aloud. This place hurt you. These people hurt you. Let’s go home.
“We won’t go, if you don’t want to.”
“I want to.” Techno admits, his voice quiet. “I do.”
Phil squeezes his hand, and Techno looks up, meeting his gaze.
“Then let’s go.” He says, and when he smiles, Techno smiles back. “You and me.”
Techno laughs, just barely-- a little huff that shakes his shoulders. “You and me.”
.
.
.
[Ph1LzA left the game.]
[Technoblade left the game.]