Sleepy Bois Inc. Angst Oneshots

Roles Reversed Part 2

AN: here's a quick fic
TW: mentions of discomfort, pain, and sorta sickness? Idk
~*~
It was midnight, and Phil was supposed to be sleeping. Instead, he was curled in a ball and whimpering. He tried to ignore the discomfort in his wings. His dad shifted in bed and brushed up against one of his wings. Phil left out an involuntary yelp.

Techno's eyes shot open and searched for Phil. Phil sat quietly in bed and rubbed at his eyes with his palms. His wings hurt, he wanted sleep, and the last thing he wanted was to talk.

"What's wrong, bud?" Techno asked sleepily. Phil said nothing and crawled over to be closer to his dad. Techno wrapped his arms around him, and he hesitantly fell asleep.

Techno woke up in a pile of black feathers. He even had one in his mouth. He spit it out before looking Phil over for injuries. Nothing seemed to be wrong with the boy, except for the feathers that were falling out. He gently ran a hand through the boy's feathers and gasped at the amount that had come off in his hand. Phil let out a sigh of contentment in his sleep.

He set the feathers down before shaking Phil awake. Phil sat up and stared at him. Techno noted that he kept itching and pulling at his feathers.

"Bubba, what's going on?" he asked the sleepy boy quietly. Phil hugged him but didn't answer. Techno sighed before getting up out of bed. He picked Phil up. Phil put his head on his shoulder and fell asleep again.

Techno decided to start breakfast and wait for his brothers to get up. He put Phil in the living room to sleep while he made muffins. Tommy walked through the kitchen, waved at him, and went to join Phil in the living room.

Techno hummed as he worked. Soon, the muffins were done, so he brought a plate of them to the living room.

Phil was awake now. He was cowering on the couch as far away from Tommy as possible. Tommy was covered in feathers.

"Techno, your baby is broken." Tommy said through a mouthful of feathers. Techno shrugged and sat down next to Phil. Phil cuddled up to him and refused to let go. Tommy glared at the small child.

They ate breakfast in silence. Phil, who was usually bouncing off the walls and carrying their conversations, sat quietly eating a muffin. He only ate half before he sat back down on the couch and fell asleep for the third time that morning.

Techno settled down next to him and ran his hands through the boy's long blond hair. He kept looking at Phil with concern in his eyes. He needed to know what was wrong with his son.

The doorbell rang, and Tommy ran to answer it. A loud voice from the door woke Phil up. Phil huddled even closer to Techno.

"Hi, Techno!" Tubbo shouted as he walked into the living room. Techno shushed him as Phil flinched and buried his head into Techno's chest. Phil lifted his wings to hide both of them from the intruder. "Who's this?" Tubbo asked, not bothering to be any quieter.

"This is Phil. He's my son." Tubbo's eyes went wide at that. He approached the pair and reached towards Phil's wings. Phil chirped and flapped his wings in a panic causing a lot of feathers to fall out. Tubbo shrieked and jumped back into Tommy.

"Yeah, the baby's broken." Tommy laughed before leading Tubbo away. Techno could feel Phil's panic. Phil started crying. Not knowing what else to do, he hugged his son tightly. He whispered comforting things to the boy.

Soon enough, Phil had calmed down and was once again sleeping. Wilbur finally made his presence known.

"What's wrong with Phil?" Techno shrugged and observed the child. "I think- is he molting?" Wilbur suggested. It did make sense. Birds did it, so what if avians did it, too? Wilbur grabbed a muffin before returning to his room with the promise of research.

An hour and two muffins later, a verdict had been reached: Phil was simply molting. He was losing his feathers to grow new ones. If he was anything like a bird, then this would happen twice a year.

Techno was relieved to know that Phil wasn't sick, that this was normal. Now, all he had to worry about was the feathers coating almost everything in his house. He had so much cleaning to do, but that could wait.

For now, he cuddled with his son and combed through the boy's wings, ignoring the growing piles of feathers surrounding them.
~*~
(764 words)