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The sun had just started to peek over the trees when Techno met Niki in the garden. She was hunched over a row of onions, according to the little tag sticking out of the dirt, crouched down with her fingers working at the bare earth, pulling away a few weeds, bunching them up in her hands. Even as early as it was in the day, she was covered in a thin layer of sweat, arms and forehead shining with the stuff, drops rolling down her chin. The tanktop she was wearing clung to her skin, wet patches on the back, soaked through under her arms.
When the door to the greenhouse shut behind him, she looked up with a grin. “Hullo,” she called, straightening with a wince. Techno heard her spine pop with a few loud clicks and winced with her, watching as Niki made her way to the edge of the building, tossing the few scraps of weeds into the compost. “Come to help me?”
He came for help, technically, but nodded anyway. There were a series of hooks right by the door, meant to hang supplies on. Techno grabbed the shovel that had been shelved, temporarily exchanging it for his cloak, walking over to the compost bin. It needed to be turned, some, and he started on it without complaint, happy to be doing something he knew. “Figured you could use the extra hands.”
Niki hummed in agreement, standing beside him with her hands on her hips, watching him turn over the compost. It was rich, dark brown, and Techno could see a few worms writhing around in the mix, breaking down the trimmings and the scraps of fruits and veggies with gusto. It helped, turning the mix over himself. Meant he was able to see just what needed to be added, noted that, next time he cleaned out Carl’s stall, to wheel the manure over to dump it in.
“Wouldn’t be so bad if there wasn’t so much,” she said, huffing a little laugh as she walked away, going back to picking out weeds. “Think we were probably a little… enthusiastic this year.”
“This?” Techno glanced over his shoulder, looked around the lush greenery. It was growing taller than usual this year, courtesy of the extra fertilizer he’d tilled into the soil. Chances were he’d have to go around with the pruning shears to take off the extra if he wanted it to actually start fruiting. “Nah, this is nothing, Niki. You should see-”
“Your potatoes, yes,” she said, with the grace and care of someone having heard the story enough times for it to get old. “I’m sure the scale would blow me out of the water.”
“These are rookie numbers,” he continued, turning back just in time to see Niki hunched over the carrots, making an almost pained noise in the back of her throat, high-pitched and frustrated. It wasn’t real anger, that much he could tell. Her scent was still the soft, sweet richness reminiscent of her bakery. Either way, he set the shovel down beside the compost bin, leaning it against the side before he went to join her, rolling up his sleeves. There were at least a dozen different rows he could have gone to, but that would have felt like putting the conversation off a little too much. No matter how much he wanted to.
Niki, having both common sense and the benefit of knowing Techno better than most, eyed him curiously. “So,” she said.
“So,” he replied, dragging it out longer than he needed to. “You, uh, you talked to Wilbur lately?”
Niki’s hands paused where they were carefully coaxing a thick weed from around a carrot, taking care to get all the roots. “I talked to him last night,” she said idly before she started to work at the soil once more. She pulled the weed out with a triumphant noise, shaking the last few clumps of soil from the bunched roots before tossing it behind her. “Why do you ask?”
Shifting, Techo set his bunch of weeds to the side, wiping his hands off on his thighs. The soil was slightly damp, which meant it clung to his fingers, but he managed to get most of it off before he reached into his pocket, tugging out the carefully folded note, holding it out across the row of plants. Niki blinked at it, similarly wiping her own hands before taking it from him, squinting at the careful script of his name on the front. “What’s this?”
“A note Wilbur left,” he told her. “For, uh. For me. Found it on my pillow this morning.”
“Thought you’d changed the locks,” she said, with heavy amusement, looking from the letter to him. Techno glanced away.
“Yeah, yeah, well. You know Wilbur. Managed to nab a pair of keys, or picked the lock, or something.”
Niki hummed again, still turning the letter in her hands. “So,” she started, “why are you…?”
“Advice?” If his expression was half as pained as his voice sounded, he was sure Niki would take pity on him.
Niki laughed, which. Ouch. But she opened the letter anyways, which was a step in the right direction. “ Technoblade,” she started to read aloud, which make him wince again.
“You- you don’t gotta read it out loud,” he said, waving a hand. “I’ve already read it.” Memorized the contents of it, more like. It was a fairly simple letter, for having been written by Wilbur, which was to say that it was written in purple prose and elegant script, carefully penned and folded to rest on his pillow. The gist of it was this: Wilbur’s heat would be starting soon, sometime the next day (the letter was dated two days prior, technically), and he would be staying in one of the empty cabins on the edge of the commune, the one Niki usually used when her own heats came in. There was a lot of evocative language about the sunlight “rising” and “spreading” and “swelling,” which, really, was borderline pornographic.
Niki, thankfully, kept her reading silent, but she was giggling by the time she finished reading the note, folding it back into thirds and handing it back to him, going back to tending the soil. “That was definitely written by Wilbur,” she said. Not the help he’d been looking for, but he appreciated it regardless. “So, what did you need advice about?”
“Just.” Techno frowned, tucking the letter away, going back to working at the dirt with her. “You know him better than I do.” (“Think so?” Niki replied, and she sounded both softly curious and faintly disbelieving.) “...You’re also the only one I can ask about this.”
At that, she laughed, which was a relief. Likely, she was thinking of the other two that were readily available at the commune. Ranboo, who was an alpha in barely more than name, gangly limbed and awkward. Techno thinks if he mentioned anything about the situation to him, they’d both start a chain reaction of awkward conversation that would result in their mutual, timely deaths. Even the thought of it had Techno wincing.
The other person was Techno’s best friend and closest confidant, and also literally Wilbur’s dad.
“Flattered,” she said. Her eyes sparkled with amusement, lips quirked up. “Still not sure what advice you’re asking me for.”
Techno fumbled with the words in his head for a moment, which was incredibly rare, for him. Even still, it was simple enough to condense it down into one word. “Just- why, I guess.”
Niki knew people. She was good at people, really, which meant she saw beyond the word itself like Techno had written a letter of his own to hand to her. Something about scars, and violence, and the knot of scar tissue on Wilbur’s shoulder, in the shape of a dozen different sets of teeth, reclaimed left and right.
She was silent as she worked a particularly stubborn clump of weeds out, knocking the excess dirt free before setting it behind her. “Tech,” she said thoughtfully, “what would happen if you forced yourself on me?”
Techno froze. “If I- what?”
Niki kept sorting through the weeds, unbothered, a pleasant smile on her face like she was only discussing the weather. “My own heat was earlier this year, remember? What if, during it, you forced your way into the cabin, pinned me down, and raped me?”
Nausea roiled in his stomach. He didn’t throw up, though, which was a good thing. That would be embarrassing. “I wouldn’t. Niki, I- I wouldn’t do something like that.”
Niki nodded, offering him a smaller, sadder smile. “You wouldn’t. But, if it did happen?”
Techno dealt with hypotheticals a lot. He liked to have plans for every situation, which a lot of times meant imagining the worst case scenario, meant being ready and prepared for anything. He’d never thought of it before, not even once, but it was laughably easy to picture how it would go. “You’d kill me, and I’d deserve it.” He focused on the soil, and the roots worked deep, not looking up at Niki as he did. “Phil, Ranboo would kill me, and I’d let them.”
“We wouldn’t have to.” There was something fond in her voice, a smile held in her words. “You’d have killed yourself before anyone else got the chance.”
Techno was silent for one second. Two. “This is, like, the worst pep talk I’ve ever gotten. And I’ve had a bunch of really, really horrible pep talks, Niki.”
She laughed. “Well, you did ask why.” Niki threw a small clump of dirt at his arm, one that crumbled the moment it hit his sleeve. “Wilbur trusts you with that, stupid.” And then, quieter, conspiratorially, she murmured, “and, between you and me, he’s a bit of a slut.”
“True,” he said, stuck in the awkward place between ‘feeling better’ and ‘feeling absolutely terrible.’ In that way, at least, Niki had been some help.
He stayed with Niki until they finished the gardening, even if she assured him she could do it on her own. It gave him something to do with his hands, at least, and working in the garden was the kind of task he could fully turn his mind off for, working entirely on autopilot. Meant he could think about other things that were decidedly not Wilbur: the project he was working on, to raise all the doorways high enough that Ranboo didn’t have to crouch to go through them, or expanding the garden even further, maybe adding another story or three to the greenhouse.
All too soon, though, his distraction was gone, and he was left to make a choice he’d been putting off. Because, in the end, he didn’t have to help Wilbur through his heat, even if the other had asked him. He didn’t, and yet, as he put the supplies away, as he pulled his cloak back on, as he washed the dirt from his hands and brushed the worst of it from his clothes, he found his feet taking him towards the cabin perched right on the edge of the woods.
Niki’s cabin, technically. Much smaller than the one she lived in, carefully sound- and scent-proofed, well-made enough that, short of summoning a wither, anyone would struggle to break the walls. Sturdy, and comfortable. Techno had helped her build it, but she had been the one to fill it with everything she would need to nest, and she was terribly careful about letting anyone else touch her blankets and pillows. They’d have to wash them well, after.
Techno knocked.
He couldn’t hear anything from inside the cabin, which was the point, but he still strained his ears for the slightest hint of movement. Maybe Wilbur was asleep, and Techno was waking him. Maybe he’d changed his mind about staying in Niki’s cabin for his heat. Maybe Wilbur had changed his mind about inviting him. Techno only had about a minute to stew in his worry before he heard the scrape of a half-dozen locks, steadily sounding one after the other. The door cracked open.
The first wave of scent was enough to have him sneezing, more for the intensity of it than the smell itself. Something like chocolate, dark and rich and sweet, coating his senses as he stood there, blinking. Wilbur peered through the crack in the door, pupils blown wide, flushed up and over his face and down his bare chest. Techno didn’t follow the trail of it down, but from the glimpse at the edge of his vision, he could tell the other was naked. As he watched, the other shuddered, leaning towards him, nostrils flaring.
“You came,” Wilbur said simply.
“Well,” Techno said. “Not yet, technically.” It was meant to be a joke, but the already sweet scent spiked even higher. Techno got the very distinct impression that Wilbur was struggling not to push through the doorway and tackle Techno into the snow to ride him there.
The door opened wider. Wilbur, colt-legged and flushed, stumbled back from the door, leaving Techno plenty of room to walk in. He did, quickly- it was spring, technically, warmer than usual, but Wilbur was naked, and it was still cold enough to make him sick, especially if he was already dealing with his heat- shutting the door behind himself, locking the bolts without looking at them. Without the slight breeze to wash away the scent, it was a lot stronger, especially since the room was small as it was. Techno swallowed hard, eyes flicking down, taking in the sight of him, vision snagging on his drenched thighs before he forced it back up.
“Took you long enough,” Wilbur managed to say in a tone that was likely meant to be gruff but instead came out as needy. The other’s tail twisted behind him, lifting in a way it normally wouldn’t.
“I was out when you started,” he offered, which wasn’t a lie. Techno pulled his gaze away to look at the rest of the room. Food and water was stocked on a shelf in the corner, a chest sitting beside it. The bed was just across from the shelf, stacked high with pillows and blankets, arranged in a way that was likely once neat but now looked like it had been kicked around. In the mess of blankets were a few dildos, colored silicone with an obvious swell at the bottom meant to imitate a knot. There was even one that was attached to the headboard, and Techno looked away before he got too caught on the image of Wilbur rocking back onto it, desperate for relief. “Lot of, uh, lot of dildos, here.”
Wilbur glanced over his shoulder, then shrugged. Light from the fireplace in the cabin flickered over his lean body, washing him in hues of gold. “Niki has, apparently, cornered the market. If there’s ever a shortage of dildos, I’ll know where to look.” Wilbur swayed on his feet, slightly, projecting need in a way that had Techno’s mouth watering, skin prickling with heat. “Did you know she even has a few that strap to her front? All shapes and sizes. She offered, but I turned her down.”
Wilbur looked at Techno again, as if to say I was expecting you here sooner. “Helpful,” Techno offered, not sure what else to say. Wilbur was still swaying, ears on his head pressing flat to his skull, lifting again. The other’s lips were parted, red and chewed raw, voice scratchy from his moans.
“You know, Techno,” Wilbur said, “I’d expected you to pin me against the wall once you got here.”
Techno shrugged off his cloak, carefully hanging it by the door before working at the ties on his shirt, looking around at said wall. There was a carefully neutral wallpaper plastered on the inside, easy enough to replace. “The wall?”
“Or the floor.” Wilbur moved back to the bed, falling over onto it, like his legs were too weak to hold him. Maybe they were. The other looked like he was trembling, legs slightly spread, showing off the way he was dripping onto the sheets. “There’s a chest you could bend me over too, if you’d want.”
“A little short, man. I’m not sure how comfortable that would be for either of us.”
Wilbur peered at him through a cracked eye, chest hitching with every breath. “You know, I wouldn’t have expected that from you.”
Techno hung his shirt beside his cloak, suddenly regretting having nothing to do with his hands. “That I don’t wanna kill my back hunching over you?”
“That you’re so vanilla that you only want to fuck in bed.” Techno eyed him, looking obviously at the way Wilbur was spread out in the aforementioned bed, legs spread and hips canting up. The other sniffed. “Extenuating circumstances. This doesn’t count.”
Techno didn’t reply. Didn’t need to, really, happy to let Wilbur dig his own grave. It was for the best, since the concentrated scent was starting to affect him proper, his own rising up to meet it, making the small interior of the cabin smell like a proper den. Wilbur stretched out more, like he was trying to properly pose, but the effect of it was ruined by the way he shuddered, his entire body flushing, cock standing at attention as he spread his legs wider.
Stepping closer, Techno skated a hand up Wilbur’s inner thigh, following the line of it as friction turned to a smooth glide. Wilbur’s hips rocked up to meet his touch, pupils flaring wider, throat working around noises Techno knew he was swallowing down. It wasn’t instinct alone that had Techno wanting to see what he sounded like without censoring himself. Trailing his fingers up, he pressed his thumb just at the divot of the other’s thigh and hip, right where the skin was softest, watching how he canted towards the touch.
“Hands and knees,” he said, and the speed that Wilbur flipped over left even him dizzy. The bed was a complete mess at that point, but Techno was still careful not to jostle too much as he slid on behind Wilbur, watching his hips rock up and back, his tail lifting and ears going flat as he shuddered. “I’m guessing the toys didn’t help too much?”
His fingers came to work down the hem of his pants. At the sound, Wilbur’s hips rocked back, bumping against his own with a pitched noise, nothing but instinct. “ Fuck no,” he said, sounding much more like himself, even as his toes and fingers curled into the bed. “Better- better than a hand, but- fuck, Techno-”
The first drag of his cock over Wilbur’s slit had the other mewling, hands fisting and kneading at the blankets. Techno tried to pull back enough to shove them down the rest of the way, but Wilbur made a noise like he was being burned when he moved, so he pressed back into him instead, letting him rock against his cock, working him to full hardness. “Jeez, Wil,” Techno murmured, one hand pressing on his spine, watching him arc his back into the touch. “You’re drenched. Almost wanna eat you out.”
“Don’t-” Wilbur choked out, and Techno froze in the slow grind of his hips. The wrong thing to do, apparently. One of Wilbur’s hands, fretfully kneading at the wall of the nest in front of him, shot back, gripping hard at what he could reach on Techno’s hip. The other rocked back, hard, the length of his cock grinding against his slit. The head of it caught against his hole for one too-bright moment before it slipped past again, and Wilbur made another frustrated noise. “Don’t you fucking dare, Techno. I need you- need you to-”
Techno made a low noise in his chest, one that had Wilbur going limp and boneless, hand falling down, mouth parting on a whine. It made it easier to take his hips, rock them back just enough that he could line himself up proper, starting to sink in. “Don’t worry,” he said, just as low as the growl still going in his chest. “I’ll- I’ll take care of you.”
He sank in slow, all in one motion. Wilbur choked out another noise that might have been a plea, might have been thank you, echoed over and over again as he slowly bottomed out, the glide near-frictionless. The toys Techno could see in the nest weren’t small, but Wilbur was still tight, almost painfully so, letting out a long keen as Techno finally hilted himself. Underneath him, Wilbur twitched, the end of his tail flicking as he panted for air. “Th-that’s- that’s-”
Techno rocked out an inch, pressed back in, feeling his walls fluttering around him, how even that little motion had him going even slicker. “Good?”
“Yeah,” Wilbur said. His words were almost a drawl, slurred together, hips moving in little twitches that kept Techno from ever being still inside of him. “That’s- that’s good. N-need you to fucking- need you to knot me, fuck, I-”
Another hum, and Wilbur shook, the motion followed by a gasp as Techno rocked his hips back more than just an inch. Slow slide out, slow slide in. Wilbur gasped like all the air had been forced out of his body. “I know,” Techno said. The haze of heat had him losing it, just a little, not helped as he leaned over, planting one hand on the bed by Wilbur’s shoulder, the other on his hip. Almost immediately, Wilbur’s hands wrapped around his wrist, normally cool fingers awash with fever. This close, his scent was so strong Techno couldn’t think about anything else. “I got you, I’ll give it to you. Just k-keep talking to me, yeah?”
The noise Wilbur made might have been a laugh before Techno started fucking his hips proper. As was, it was a series of jumpy moans, broken and shaky. “Can do.”
It was easy to get lost in it, the sweetness of Wilbur’s scent, the warmth of his body, the way even his moans rang out like music. He was gorgeous, splayed out underneath of him, shoulders trembling and hands kneading at Techno’s wrist. It didn’t take long before he came the first time, shuddering through it. When Techno slowed, he made such a pinched noise that he kept moving; the second orgasm he didn’t even pause for, letting Wilbur cry out, shake himself to pieces underneath of him.
“N-need-” Wilbur all but sobbed out, “ please, I need-”
And, like the plea was all he needed, Techno curled over him with a low groan, knot swelling as he fucked into him a few more times before locking them together. If Wilbur had been tight around his cock, he was a vice around his knot, to the point Techno almost worried he might have torn something. Did worry, sharp and instinctual, when Wilbur whined, hand reaching around to grab at the one held on his hip. Techno let go, let Wilbur grab his wrist, let the other pull his hand around, but didn’t understand until his palm brushed against the other’s leaking cock, still achingly hard. Even that barest touch had him keening, fluttering around his knot.
“Here,” Techno said, taking him into his palm, wrapping his fingers around him. “Just one more, Wil, you can do it.”
And he did, spilling out into his palm after a few more strokes, going tight around his knot once more. It was only then that Wilbur actually relaxed, tension leaving his body for the first time since Techno walked into the cabin. He could see the other’s eyes blinking, half dazed, lashes dark against his cheeks. Techno thought about telling him he was gorgeous. Decided against it. Said, instead, “here, I’m gonna- I’m gonna move us to the side.”
Wilbur hummed, the end lifting up in question. “Don’t tell me that the Technoblade has bad knees?”
Techno wiped the cum off his hand, onto the blankets, before using his semi-clean hand to hold Wilbur close to his chest. With a grunt, he tipped them over to the side, his knot grinding further into Wilbur as they settled. The blankets might be ruined, actually, now that he was actually looking at them. Wincing, Techno shifted again, trying to get comfortable.
“My knees are not a reflection on my skill,” he said easily. Then, “Wilbur, did you put rocks in the bed, what is this?” Swiping an arm under himself awkwardly reveals that the ‘rocks’ were actually three different dildos, hidden under the blankets. “Wil. Why do you have so many of these in the bed.”
Wilbur’s ear flicked idly, unbothered and uncaring now that he’d gotten what he wanted. He twisted just enough to watch Techno shove the toys to the edge of the bed. One of them fell off and hit the floor with a heavy, wet-sounding plop. “When I’d lose one in the covers, I would just grab another,” he said, noncommittally.
Techno glanced around the bed, counting and adding them to the three he’d just shoved to the side. “Wilbur, there are fourteen dildos here.”
The other man hummed. “Like I said. All shapes and sizes.”
“...I’m gonna have to help you clean those once you’re done, aren’t I?”
Wilbur reached down, pulled Techno’s arm up and around his shoulder, nuzzling into it. “Probably,” he agreed.
“Bruh,” Techno said. Against his arm, he felt Wilbur smile.