Work Text:
The cafe owner was glaring at him again.
Tommy scowled back, claws tap tap tapping against the table. Not like he could fucking damage it, but the cafe owner was glaring at him like he was carving rude words into it or some shit like that.
He dragged his hands back, tapping them against his knees again as he hunched over the table. But the cafe owner was still glaring. He glared no matter what Tommy did, starting when Tommy had been staring at the hypnotic motion of the dish towel wiping down the free tables. Under his hat, his ears twitched.
He had fucked up. Just a little itty bitty bit.
It wasn’t his fault! He had just been so excited when Techno finally brought up meeting in person. So excited that he had gotten here a whole two hours early and almost completely ran down the charge on his phone playing games.
Curse his addiction to Candy Crush, that sweet seductive game. Tubbo told him that it would get him into trouble one day but did he believe him?
Tap. Tap. Tap. The cafe owner glared and Tommy balled his fists so tight he could feel the fabric rip. This was all to meet Techno. Any other day, he’d cuss this guy out for being so rude and such a wrongun. This place was so far from his house that there was no way he’d come back!
He just needed to hold on for- Tommy tapped his phone- twenty more minutes. The bright red sliver of battery taunted him.
Tommy had this. He was patient. The most patient of big men! People marveled at how patient he was. People around the world begged him to teach him their secrets but he said no no no, this power wasn’t available for mortals.
The cafe owner scoffed. “You gonna leave soon?” They asked. Tommy’s hidden ears twitched.
He had bought a drink! An hour ago. But still! It wasn’t his fault that this store was a ripoff. Who sells hot cocoa for ten dollars? “‘M waiting for someone.” He said, gritting his teeth.
The cafe owner scoffed, eyes going to his hat. Tommy glared back, imperiously drinking the last of his cup. He shoved his phone into his pocket with a scowl as he stood. Might as well go for a walk until Techno got here.
He didn’t want the owner getting too curious and demanding that he removed his hat.
Broadly speaking, hybrid discrimination was a big legal no-no. But realistically speaking? Every legislator talked mad game that meant absolutely nothing. There was a stigma around some hybrids still. And especially one around ‘nuisance’ animals.
And a raccoon definitely counted.
It’s not something Tommy had ever cared about. Anyone who did that kind of stuff wasn’t someone he cared about! Who gave a fuck about people who couldn’t see his awesomeness!
But… he probably shouldn’t get kicked out of the place he agreed to meet Techno. That would not be a great start to meeting his internet friend. Tommy pushed through the door, biting back going off at the man’s muttered complaints. He was pretty certain Techno didn’t know how bad the owner was, considering the other was a hybrid himself. Techno had been oddly certain this would be a good spot though.
He wrapped his coat around him against the biting breeze, looking around. For being Techno’s cafe pick, this place was out in the fucking boonies. The next building was four miles up and the only thing closer was a bus station half a mile away. And the buses barely came by at all. Honestly he was surprised that a cafe like this was even still surviving out here.
Techno was such a pretentious fucker. The thought of it made him scoff as he rocked back on his heels, glancing around. Of course his favorite spot was some tiny cafe with overpriced drinks. His messages had practically oozed hipsterness everywhere. He was so lucky Tommy had mercifully chosen to tolerate him and grace him with his presence.
Okay, so on the surface, this looked bad. And if he hadn’t set up some pretty elaborate misdirection, Tubbo would probably be screaming at him by now, doing that little panic pacing as his hands shaped out a diagram of a bomb.
Now, if anyone asked, Tommy was at Ranboo’s house. If Ranboo asked, he was painting graffiti on that asshole movie theater with the jerk manager who was rude to his mother, an absolute queen of a woman.
No one thought it was a good idea to meet Techno in real life. Which was stupid because he had been talking to him for two years! Tubbo and his mom had talked to him! Even Ranboo had sent a message, getting something entirely in emoticons that took two hours to translate. His foster parents were- okay. They could care less.
They met through Minecraft! Techno had once cried himself to sleep over his turtle eggs getting crushed!
Techno was nice. He hadn’t cared that Tommy was a raccoon hybrid. He had a dad who was a Elytrian hybrid and used to get teased for it. He really didn’t see this as some elaborate murder plot.
Techno didn’t even know he was a kid. The other thought he was just out of college, thank you very much Tubbo, who had started to worry spiral over adults talking to kids online. It didn’t exactly help that there was constantly news popping up of serial killers in the area lately.
Tommy wasn’t particularly worried! For starters, the two newest targeted anti-hybridist. But, honestly? It mostly came down to the fact Techno had just moved to the area but there was still reports long before that.
And if anything did happen, they were in a cafe with an owner who had to call the cops. If Tommy didn’t destroy him first.
(Okay so, like. He’d probably need to explain the whole being younger thing but he was pretty sure Techno would understand! He was chill, when he wasn’t being a theater kid. And besides, Tommy was pretty sure he could pass as an adult so maybe it wouldn’t even come up.)
So, eventually, Tommy lost his patience and constructed his master plan. Once he and Techno got to meet once, Tubbo, his mom, and Ranboo wouldn’t have anything to freak out about anymore! One quick hour of chatting over drinks and he could see about maybe hanging out even more.
He stuck close to the building, wandering around the side as he fingered the bandana around his wrist. Bright red, it was supposed to be their little signal. Techno had promised he’d wear a red scarf as well.
Movement from the parking lot caught his eye.
Automatically, Tommy stepped back, peeking around the wall. A little creepy, yeah, but Tommy wasn’t actually being a wrongun! He just preferred to skulk a little! Let a big man do a little skulking.
A car had pulled up, practically crawling into the spot like it was on its last legs. Tommy felt his hidden ears perk up.
And yes. Yes. There, sauntering into the cafe, had to be Techno.
Honestly, even without the red scarf, Tommy was certain that he would know Techno anywhere. They had never traded pictures, but the moment he saw him, he could just feel the theater kid vibe dripping off of him. He dressed exactly like what Tommy expected a guy who studied English in college to dress.
And the piglin hybrid features. It was very hard to miss those. Maybe those too.
Before Tommy could duck out from behind the wall, Techno was striding into the building. And Tommy hesitated.
He could hop out right now, he thought. Big men could be early! And here was Techno, way too early himself.
There was the sound of a clatter. Something choked. Tommy’s eyes flicked, but in wariness this time. Oh, that fucking asshole of an owner better not have tried to drive Techno out. Tommy would go in and give him a piece of his mind, he would!
Something clattered again. And despite himself, his steps slowed.
Something red had splattered across the window.
And a brief flicker told him that the red hadn’t come from Techno.
Holy fuck, Tubbo was fucking right. Techno was a serial killer. Great FUCKING news! Fucking hell, Tubbo was going to hold this over him for so fucking long-
Tommy turned, bolting across the parking lot. Behind him, a door slammed against a wall and Tommy let himself fall into a full skittering sprint, hoping that his raccoon speed would keep him free.
Fucking hell, he really hadn’t expected this of Techno. The dude was always talking about reading classic literature like the fucking Odyssey and the Anarchist’s Cookbook. Man got passionate discussing the themes in Great fucking Gatsby when Tommy revealed he never read the book (and he still stood by that decision. Man could have had so many hot wives).
But evidence one. Techno had definitely just killed a man back there. And it was way too good at it to be for the first time. Tommy had played all sorts of bloody videogames so he could attest to that. No matter what his karen of a foster mom insisted, playing those games had not made him a bloodthirsty murderer that couldn’t get too close to her blood kids.
Techno had done this before. And now he was definitely chasing him.
Just a bit further. Just a bit further. To where, Tommy wasn’t certain. There wouldn’t be another bus for forever, and the next building was still a mile dash, partially shrouded by trees. But just a bit further, he had to be just a bit further-
A hand clamped over the back of his neck, nearly shoving him over with the force.
And horrified, Tommy feels himself going limp. The fucking scruff reflex. That awful fucking piece of instinctual buuulll-
Techno’s hand tightened on his scruff, the other taking advantage of his instincts to haul Tommy back in his arms. In the perfect comfort hold, the back of his brain cooed because it was a dumbfuck. And Tommy hated it. He hated how Techno huffed.
“Sorry about that.” He said, far too conversational. A chuff. Tommy felt himself going even limper as every few words, the other chuffed.
He had been worried about that, distantly. Even calling Techno, there was a part of his brain that always felt so relaxed when the other verbalized. Instincts were a funny little mishmash of what you were and what you took after those you knew.
And Tommy had known Techno for a long time.
“That’s better that you know this, Runt.” Techno said. Another chuff. “Philza didn’t want to tell, but you think he’d learn from how badly that went with me.”
A chuff.
“Definitely had that entire thing planned out.” Techno said in the tone of someone who had definitely fucked up and was trying to sell it as being on purpose. Tommy would have rolled his eyes if he cared, and it was definitely not because part of his brain was very insistent that he should bury his face in Techno’s very warm chest and hide away from the cold air. “Definitely. All planned up here.”
“Fuck you.” Tommy mumbled.
Chuff. “I expected that.” Techno said. A pause. For a moment, with no noise, the cold air slowly drew Tommy back to his thoughts. Around him, he could see trees. Very helpful. He was pretty sure Techno had turned away, back to the cafe. Which was. Concerning.
“You gonna kill me?” He mumbled. He wasn’t sure what he was going to tell Tubbo and Ranboo. He was pretty sure Ranboo would plan a good funeral. He needed that, because Tubbo would probably be way too busy hunting down serial killers for sport. Probably with Purpled. He was almost certain purple fucker was Mafia or some shit.
“Mmm. Naaaaah. Why deprive the world of your incredible wit.” That sounded like an insult, but Tommy was going to take that as a compliment because fuck you. And because insulting Techno made it easier not to think about the liquid coating Techno’s hand on the back of his neck, smearing across his shirt, that had once been warm but now was very cold. “You’re safe, with me, Runt. I won’t let anyone touch you.”
“Fuck you, notta Runt.” Tommy mumbled, forcing his lax lips to move.
“Bruh, you’re tiny. I saw you peeking around a building and thought I accidentally befriended a toddler. Phil’s gonna have an absolute conniption.” Techno said. Something low and amused built in his chest, the rumble feeling like it was rattling his bones. It was oddly soothing.
“Conniption over what?” Tommy stiffened, hindbrain finally kicking into panic mode at the unfamiliar voice. Fucking finally. “Bringing him back to me? Oh son, you shouldn’t have. You know I don’t touch kids.”
Hands sweep his curls away from his eyes and Tommy whines, tense and afraid. Hands cradle his cheeks but he can feel the prick of claws. Philza. It couldn’t be anyone else.
Tommy squeezes his eyes shut, feeling like his heart was about to beat out of his chest.
“Dad.” He hates it. He hates how something unknots at Techno’s words, at the not quite deep monotone of his voice. Stupid body, betraying him. “It’s Tommy.”
Why couldn’t he make himself scared of the other? Years of online chatting shouldn’t cancel our ACTUAL MURDER but noooooo-
“Oh Techno, you shouldn’t have.” Delight. Actual delight. A thumb swept across his cheek, Philza actually trilling with it. Like Tommy was something delightful to be brought. “You just couldn’t help yourself could you? I thought you said that he wouldn’t be here for a while longer.”
“He wasn’t. He decided to show up early, probably out of spite.” Tommy tried to snap at Techno’s other hand. All he caught was the edge of his sleeve before Techno was tugging it free with a sharp rattle that made Tommy go limp.
“And ran straight into you dealing with the cafe owner. What did he do to deserve that.” Philza absolutely was in on this. It was the tone. Light. Bland. Like the cafe owner dying was just something mildly inconvenient, only a problem by how it made Tommy run away.
“The owner was a capitalist. They upped the bill for hybrids.” The spark of gleeful vindication was almost enough to outweigh the terror. He knew it! He did! It was always sketchy as fuck when they didn’t post prices on their menus, fucker. “Oh and he took a swing at me with a broom when I walked in. Not my fault Tommy came before I finished settling everything, but I’m not complaining. Now we have to take him now instead of waiting any longer.”
Because he was early, Tommy realized with a start. Because Tommy was too early. He wasn’t supposed to show up for another thirty minutes. How fast could a serial killer clean up a body? Pretty fast, maybe? He would have shown up to an empty cafe and had zero clue of what happened.
That was why Techno showed up early. Why the other seemed so oddly certain that this cafe would be a great spot, because a serial killer didn’t have to worry about that kind of thing-
Wait.
Take him?
“Yes, yes, only you get to have capitalism. Maybe start with the assault first.” Philza drawled. “What are you going to do if I don’t decide to take Tommy? You just revealed our identities to him. Maybe I’ll adopt him out to Bad and his crew instead.”
Adoption? What the fuck did he mean by that??
“Bruuuuuh.” Techno drawled. “Old man Philza turning up an adorable child? I never thought I’d see the day. A crime, that is. Far worse than murder, I declare. Back when Odysseus was on the wall-”
A hand swept through Tommy’s curls, lingering over his furred ears. But to Tommy’s relief, there was none of the normal pain and discomfort. Only a small scratching that felt luxuriously good. So good his traitorous mind told him it was time to sleep now, even as he angrily chittered.
“Fine. I spoil you too much.”
“Bruuuuh. False. You’re such a liar. You’ve been planning on snatching him ever since I showed you their messages. Bird man getting empty nest syndrome.”
“Hush. We need to go now, before someone notices. Leave the display for Kristin and your god. I’ll take Tommy to the car.” Someone hefted him from Techno’s arms to another, and Tommy went noodle. His last line of defense. But if they noticed his dead weight, they didn’t comment on it. The fuckers were strong.
“Awww, look at you. Got yourself all scratched up running. We’ll have to bandage you up before you get those infected.” Philza cooed. Yeah. Tommy could feel the dull throbbing beginning to settle in as his body made it very clear that it wasn’t happy with his sprint through the woods. “But in the nest first. Techno hides it very well, but his instincts make him moody if anyone in his team is roaming outside and defenseless when he’s hopped up on bloodlust.”
An amused trill. “Not that I’m defenseless. But I’m a sucker for my kids.”
Not so strong! Tommy could take them- if he wasn’t scruffed. Because they had fucking cheated. Like cheaters. Making his hindbrain all purr-y and shit.
But, sleepy. He didn’t have any more ideas. And all the panic had sucked away his energy in a snap. His hindbrain said safe, comforting, he was getting pet and it was nice and clearly they didn’t want to hurt him. He could sleep and recover.
He lets himself drift off to someone scritching his ears and the click of a car door opening. At least he knew that he was safe from them.
Tubbo did hold it over his head when they finally settled enough that they could chat, a few weeks later. The fucker.
Tommy was never meeting anyone over the internet again.
