Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Stop breaking into my house.”

“I’m not breaking it. I used a key.”

“HENH!”

“Yeah the spare. You know. You have a hidden spare outside.”

“You found that?

“Yeah.”

“So because you found my space key you think you’re entitled to break into my house?”

“I’m not breaking anything.”

“I’m stuck with your now aren’t I?”

“Yes you are big man.”

Techno accepts the teenager on his couch, and goes to order a second subway sandwich for the kid.

Chapter Text

Techno walks into his living room to find Tommy moping on the couch.

Tommy has brought home a participation trophy. He’s really down because he didn’t win, and he really thought he would.

Techno starts to make fun of him before realizing that Tommy being down in the dumps is not a joke. Techno looks to the glass cabinet full of trophy’s that he’s earned over the years.

Techno shows Tommy that it’s all a ruse. Sure Techno has won a great many things. But, only the things pressed up against the glass on the bottom two rows are first places. Everything filling out the back is anywhere from second to fifth, and the whole third upper section is participation awards.

He’s proud of them, and they’re on display. But really their job is to fill out space and make the display look imposing.

Techno shuffles things around and puts Tommy’s new plastic shiny trophy front and center on the bottom row of the case.

For safe keeping until Tommy goes home to put it in his room.

Chapter Text

Tommy uses his key to entre Techno’s house. He chills around for a while before getting bored and walking up to Techno’s room. He stands in front of the door.

He takes a breath. He’s just going to go in. He didn’t get a no when he asked. Well, he did get a look, but he was super bored. And the guy wasn’t home; what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

He opens the door. The bed is rumpled but made, tucked away in the corner. There’s a desk piled high with trinkets and pen holders. It has a black hardcover journal off to the side.

One wall is covered in book shelves. Full of little things, books, mugs, and what looks like years worth of empty journal, note and sketch books. He could tell from their mismatched spins; he also had his own, albeit smaller, collection.

The first thing he snoops though is Techno’s closet. The bottom is absolutely covered in paper boats. He finds the red leather bomber jacket that Techno wears on their colder nighttime adventures. He puts it on. Why does this guy have so many white button-ups?

Tommy gets distracted by the bed. If he has something in his closet, there has got to be something under the bed.

He crawls under and looks around. He finds a pile of books. They remind him of the line of journals on the book shelf. Why are they under the bed? Tommy pulls one out.

He opens it up and starts flipping. Its chockfull of memories; sticky notes; ripped bits of paper; quotes; stories ideas; dumb, crappy drawings; some useless, insulting quote on a piece of torn off paper with math homework written on the back of it; notes that him and Skeppy passed back and forth between the two of them in class.

Tommy flips through them legally. He doesn’t look to hard at them; mostly skimming. These aren’t for him, but he can’t help but flip through them all. Opening journal after journal from random time periods. Clearly Techno has just pasted things in order and thrown the completed book under his bed.

He finds one of the more recent ones. He finds spreads make up entirely of sticky notes with his handwriting on them. Has Techno kept every note he ever left around the house? And are those the stickers him and Tubbo gifted him? He thought that Techno had thrown them. Maybe he was just good at slight-of-hand magic.

Tommy was very careful to not spend more than a few seconds on each page. He was a snoop, but he wouldn’t sit down and properly read things that were clearly not meant for his eyes to see.

Techno walked into his house, noting Tommy’s shoes at the door.

He looked in the living room, the kitchen, the backyard. Where was he? The second he asked himself that; he knew the answer. Room.

Techno climb up to his room, the door wide open. He saw Tommy on the floor, a pile of his journals stacked beside him, jacket covering his frame.

“What are you doing in my room?”

Tommy’s head jolted up and around. He had a guilty expression on his face. “Nothing.” He looked at the evidence around him. “Sorry.”

Techno sighed. He couldn’t stay mad at this kid for long. “Put them back.”

Tommy closed the journal in his lap and carefully places his stack back under the bed.

Techno was honestly surprised that Tommy used any care at all with this task. Especially when he would have just chucked them under there.

“You aren’t keeping that,” Techno said when Tommy stood, pointing to the bomber.

“Right. I forgot I put that on.” Tommy took it off right then and then. Placing it on the bed, he left the room; presumably to open Mario Kart 8 on the Switch.

Techno laughed, going down to beat the kid at his own game.

That Techno owned, because Tommy had bought it for them him.

Chapter Text

Tommy and Tubbo came back to Techno’s house after watching an action flick at the cinema. They played one round of Mario Kart before getting bored and making their way up to Techno’s room.

There was a second bookshelf on the wall. Techno’s empty journal-notebook-sketchbook collection had been moved to the bottom one and a half shelves the the new one. On the floor were piles of Techno’s finished journals, newly pulled out from under the bed.

There is a sticky note atop the highest pile.

try to organize these in chronological order. happy snooping, kid

And they do. They do have fun.

Techno never labeled his scrapbooks. When one got filled up, he just threw it under his bed and started another. Tommy and Tubbo went through and guessed were things went by big block of time. College, high school, middle school, elementary school; summer, winter; and that one that was literally four days long.

They also found a few childhood photo albums. “Look Tubbo, it’s Tinyblade.”

“Oh my goodness. Technobaby is so cute!”

Of course during their snooping, they didn’t ready to carefully. Techno may be letting them go through his personal stuff, but that was probably because he knew they’d go through it anyways.

The two started to place Techno’s younger years on the top shelves. Going row by row with time chunks. Tubbo started going through what they already had to get those in order, while Tommy went through what was still on the floor to put them in the right time frame.

Techno noted the two pairs of shoes and backpacks in his foyer. He looked around his house. He couldn’t find them on the first floor or the basement. They were in his room. Great.

He got to the hallway when he heard Tommy say “Look Tubbo, I found Toddlerblade!”

He let out a loud bellowing laugh.

Chapter Text

Techno comes home after a long day of, what in the world does Techno do for a living. He hopes to come back home to an empty hour and maybe he can order a Subway sandwich.

No such luck. The house light it on and Tommy is on his phone in the living room. He shots up when he hears the door open.

“Tubbo and Ranboo made food.”

“They what now?”

“It’s going to be bad. Like really bad. And even if it’s good it’s not going to be good for you.”

Techno tilted his head. “And you aren’t helping them?”

“Tubbo put hot sauce in the brownie batter.”

The kitchen timer beeped loudly.

“He what?”

“I don’t know. I just left, but then remembered that I’m the only one you actually gave a key too so I came back.”

Techno sighed deeply and walked into the - Tubbo and Ranboo clearly had never heard the advice clean as you go. He decided to humor them.

“Tommy said you guys made dinner.”

Tommy shook his head frantically at Techno. Smiling when the two boys looked at him he said, “Yeah. Can’t wait to eat what you guys made.”

Tubbo clapped happily.

Ranboo brought over a plate with unnecessary flair, and an apologetic look. “For dinner, Lucky Charms Pasta a la Tubbo.”

- Spaghetti
- Cereal
- Marshmallows
- Straight Hot Sauce
- with Cinnamon sprinkled on top

Tommy held his breath and dug in.

Techno snapped a photo and sent it off to Phil. Please teach these children how to cook.

Chapter Text

Techno watches in abject horror as Ranboo warms up some milk and dumps in a teaspoon of cinnamon with his hot chocolate powder.

Tubbo came back over to hand Tommy his Coke. “Hey Technoblade? Do you have a bender?”

“Yes?” Techno grabbed himself a glass of water (like a normal person). “Why?”

“Just wondering.” Tubbo looked up at him expectedly with doe eyes.

Techno sighed. “You aren’t that innocent. Stop it.” He pulled out the blended from the top shelf. “Have at it.”

Tommy choked on his food. “Not. No. Bad.” He then whipped out his phone and couldn’t decide whether to film Tubbo putting in some warm milk, hot chocolate powder, a can of Monster Energy, and a dash of cinnamon; or Techno’s face.

Techno eventually gave up and gave in. He was right there next to Tommy roasting marshmallows on the gas stove.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Techno drove into his driveway. He had gone to the family farm for the weekend and was a little scared about what Tommy and his friends had done to his house.

He opened the garage, and he was glad for his vigilance. There was a blanket pile in the corner of the garage. Techno slammed on the breaks and honked the horn.

Tommy’s blond head popped out of the blanket pile.

Techno rolled his window down and leaned out. “You good?”

“Yeah! Tubbo and Ranboo kicked me out.”

“And you didn’t go home?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Are they still in the house?”

“Yep! They bring me food.” Tommy dragged the blankets to the side of the garage to let Techno get in. “Gave me these too.”

“How long have you been out here?”

“How long have you been gone?”

“Tommy!” Techno puts the car in park and exist.

“Not my fault!”

Techno sighed and ruffled his hair. “Help me get this stuff inside and I’ll kick your friends out. We’ll get a pizza or something.”

“Okay!” Tommy opened the door to go put the blanket away.

Techno heard a splash and cursing. He turned to find Tommy covered in pink paint. “Did they rig the door? How has that not gone off yet? Did you not even try to get back in the house?”

“No?”

“Tommy!”

“I’m sorry!”

“Why are you like this?”

“I’m sorry about your blankets!”

“Not the issue!”

Tubbo came to the interior garage door. “Oh hi Blade.” Tubbo snapped a picture of Tommy. “This is going in the scrapbook.”

“Why are you three like this?”