Part of my collection of SBI-centric flufftober oneshots. These can all be read as standalone.
Flufftober three: "you're not related?" with twinsduo
They're eight years old, the first time they're mistaken for one another.
Phil brought them to the park, as he often did when it was Sunday afternoon. Phil's house didn't have a big yard, and it certainly didn't have the swings and slides and climb bars that the park did. All they could really do in Phil's yard was dig holes; which was fun but their foster dad had asked them to stop doing that. Techno suspected it was probably because Phil had tripped into one once and almost broke his ankle.
So they were brought to the park instead, where they could run around and have fun and not worry about becoming potential hazards to Phil's weak old man bones.
Technoblade was sitting on the swings by himself, using his legs to push himself back and forth a bit. He didn't know where his brothers had gone but that was fine since Techno preferred being alone sometimes. Apparently, the universe hadn't gotten that memo yet, because his solitude was rudely interrupted by some random kid. They had dark, messy hair that stuck out at odd angles and big brown eyes that Techno could feel burning into his skin a little too eagerly. They smiled at him happily.
"You should push me," they said, sitting down on the swing beside him. "It's more fun that way."
Averting his gaze, Techno drew up his shoulders shyly. "I'll pass," he mumbled.
That must have been the wrong thing to say because they frowned, their mouth pulling down into a pout. "Why not? We can switch places afterward and I'll push you. We should see who can swing the highest!"
"I'm good," Techno said, hoping that this time they would get the message.
Instead they huffed, getting up again. "You did it earlier, I don't see what the problem is now?"
And that did give Techno pause because he was pretty sure that if he had pushed a kid he didn't know on the swings today, he would remember that. It didn't sound like something he would do in the first place. Techno was notoriously bad at making new friends, it was a remark teachers often put down on his report cards and everything. Taking his silence for him ignoring them – Techno wasn't, but he wasn't going to complain if taking too long to answer would make them leave – they walked off angrily. Techno was left behind slightly puzzled.
But when he told his family about it later, Wilbur's eyes lit up. "Oh, I think I know who you mean! I was playing with them before."
"Why were they bothering me about it though?" Techno complained half-heartedly. "It was super awkward."
Wilbur shrugged. "They must have thought you were me."
"What?" he squeaked. Techno couldn't get why that didn't seem to come as a surprise to Wilbur himself.
"Yeah! I don't know if you noticed but we kinda look the same. Like twins!" His brother bumped their shoulders together affectionately.
Technoblade bit his tongue, feeling stupid for admitting he never did pay attention to that. Then again, he didn't look in the mirror much at all. Phil always had to remind him to comb his hair and straighten his clothes. Did he really look that much like Wilbur? Enough for them to be mistaken as the same person?
That night, after he was done brushing his teeth, Techno stared at his own reflection as if he was looking at it for the first time. Obviously, Wilbur and him shared the same wavy brown hair and hazel eyes. That was kinda obvious. He poked at his face. Their noses were sort of similar in shape, he supposed. They both had round chins. Techno hated to admit it, but he could see where the kid had been coming from.
It just felt weird because Wilbur and Techno weren't twins. They weren't even really related. Technoblade's parents were dead and Wilbur's parents were... Well, Phil wouldn't tell them where they were. They were bad people, Techno knew that much. They didn't take good care of Wilbur, so that's why he was taken away and came to live with Phil instead.
Sometimes, Techno thought he hated them. Which was strange since he had never met them. But he hated anybody that would be mean to his family.
Lying in bed, it kept churning through his head. He wasn't upset that some random person had thought they were family. Of course not, Wilbur and him were practically brothers in everything except blood. Phil always said that family ran deeper and that those made by choice were arguably even more important than those that were made by birth but which treated you badly, and other mushy shit like that.
Yet it made Techno's stomach feel all weird and tense. He thought he might puke.
The next day, he told Phil to cancel his appointment to get a haircut because he wanted to grow it out. Wilbur looked at him funny but didn't say anything. Techno still couldn't meet his eyes, the guilt tightening up his throat.
They were never mistaken for being the same person again.
Technoblade was watching Wilbur tear into the wrapping paper with glee, his brother's grin close to manic. They all knew what was in that box. Wilbur had been begging Phil for weeks to get this particular gift for his birthday and the shape was very distinct.
"I hope you're happy with it, mate," Phil still said, as if there was any doubt. Wilbur pulled out the guitar, the exact same one he'd shown Techno online every day for a while now. It was made by some manufacturer that a lot of big, famous musicians used.
"Holy shit, it's even cooler in person," Wilbur said in awe. His fingers slid down the glossy back surface. Technoblade didn't know much about instruments, but he could admit it was a nice guitar.
"Can I play it?" Tommy asked, gesturing with his fork and spraying food all over the table. Wilbur clasped the guitar against his chest protectively in response, trying to keep it away from Tommy's spaghetti assault.
"Absolutely not." Tommy frowned, and Wilbur rolled his eyes with a smile. "If you want, you can have my old one. Since I don't need it anymore, I can use it to teach you."
"Pog!"
Techno snorted. Wilbur trying to teach Tommy 'impatience incarnate' Craft a skill that took extended practice to learn? Oh, he was definitely getting a front-row seat for that.
A waiter stepped up to the table, subtly taking away some of their empty plates and checking up on them needing refills. Her eyes fell on Wilbur holding the guitar, a scattering of torn-up paper in front of him, and more still wrapped gifts scattered on the table.
"Happy birthday!" she said brightly to Wilbur. Techno didn't know if she was hoping for a bigger tip or if she was just a nice person. He supposed it didn't matter as Wilbur thanked her. Except then she looked at him. "And to you too, of course."
"My birthday is three months from now," he heard himself say automatically. Inwardly, Technoblade was cringing because why would you even want to celebrate your birthday in a public restaurant to begin with? Wilbur was totally weird for being okay with that, Techno would rather die than get any more attention from strangers than he could reasonably avoid.
"Oh!" Her face became red at a startling speed, her shoulder's straightened. "I just thought you two were-" she started before cutting herself off.
"We're not twins," Techno said. He could see where the presumption had come from, especially when a lot of the gifts still on the table weren't really in front of Wilbur specifically, what with them sitting across from each other.
She nodded absently, but there was a firm crease in her brow trying to figure out the logistics of two pregnancies in such a short span of time.
"We're not related at all," Techno said for clarification. Phil gave him a look that made him glance away. That look often meant he'd said something callous without realizing it. He didn't get what the big deal was though, she was clearly wondering about it.
A moment later she snapped out of it and suddenly realized she probably ended up coming across as very rude. "Sorry, I'm- Gosh, sorry about that. Can I get you guys anything else?"
Techno didn't hear whatever Phil's answer was, suddenly very aware of Wilbur staring at him from across the table, expression unreadable. He picked up the menu and pretended to consider the dessert options instead, hiding his face behind the plastic-wrapped paper.
The week after was when he went out to buy pink hair dye.
Technoblade's biology teacher was an idiot.
Today's lesson was about genetics, and whenever twins were mentioned even vaguely the man would look over at their desks. Gawking at them like Wilbur and him were two zoo animals. Techno didn't get it.
"You probably all know by now there are two types of twins. Maternal or paternal. Does anybody know the difference?"
Somebody near the front of the class raised their hand, eager to suck up to the teacher. His eyes completely bypassed them, as if they did not exist.
"Technoblade?" he prompted. "Would you happen to know?"
"Bruh…" Techno muttered under his breath, hearing Wilbur snicker next to him. "We're not twins," he added a little louder, so others could hear.
The teacher blinked. "What did you say?"
"Twins. We're not twins. No twins here, no sir. Neither paternal nor maternal. We're not even related, actually."
Some more laughter scattered around the room. The teacher grew a little pale with embarrassment, sputtering through some justification. "Y-You're not related?!"
"Was it the hair that threw you off?" Techno deadpanned, gesturing at his long pink braid.
One student behind him snorted so loudly Techno was sure they had just spit their drink all over the desk. The teacher found this less humorous.
Techno spent the rest of that period in the principal's office, getting seriously chewed out for 'talking back'. As if the guy wasn't in the wrong for making a dumb assumption in the first place. Techno spaced out through most of it, then got scolded again for not paying attention.
Wasn't that just his life?
Wilbur met him after school was over.
"I need to go to detention," Technoblade said. He couldn't entirely keep some slight bitterness from slipping into his voice.
"It's kind of your own fault," Wilbur said with a shrug. He was trying to lighten the mood, clearly. But Techno's sour attitude wasn't that easily chased away. "There was no reason to make a scene."
"It's not my fault he made a mistake. We're not twins."
Wilbur opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, before shutting it with an audible click. His fingers tensed around the strap of his bag. Techno turned away, unable to deal with the guilt he felt at that expression.
"Tell Phil I'll be home late, I guess." He left quickly before Wilbur could answer.
It all boiled over a week later, while they were in Walmart of all places.
Tommy was sick, Phil had to stay at home to take care of him. So Wilbur and Techno were tasked with going down and getting their groceries, as well as some cough medicine for their brother. Techno was following Wilbur around the store, not really feeling up to social interaction today; or any day for that matter, but particularly today.
Which made it very bothersome when an employee set their sights on them.
"Sir," they started, which already made Techno viscerally uncomfortable because oh god had his sleep deprivation really become bad enough that it would make his teenage self read like a withered old man to strangers? He hated that.
"These are our very new store-brand taco cups." They held up the box proudly, displaying more care in cradling it than you would your firstborn. "Would you like to taste one?"
"No thank you," Techno said, trying to move on.
"What about your twin brother there, I'm sure he would like-"
"We're not twins," Techno cut in tiredly. He really wasn't ready to have this discussion again. Wilbur froze, making Techno bump into his tensed back. Awkwardly, Techno pushed past him and Wilbur followed him after a few more seconds. The toilet paper aisle was mercifully deserted.
"Why do you keep doing that?" Wilbur said from behind him, voice pinched.
"Do what?" Techno said, pretending to be looking at the toilet paper. Why were there so many different brands? Who the heck needed six layers to wipe their ass with?
"Say we're not twins."
He exhaled, feeling shaky. "Because we're not?"
"So? What does it matter if other people think we are? Literally, who cares if they assume we're related."
And suddenly Techno was eight again, looking at himself in the mirror and wondering why he even cared if somebody thought Wilbur and him were related by blood. If Phil hadn't been right, that family by choice is more important than family by birth.
"We're not though," he said lamely. There was no other answer he could give.
Wilbur's fingers curled around his elbow, nails digging into his jacket. He was making a scene, in true Wilbur fashion he didn't care that they were in public. Techno should have just taken that damn taco cup.
"Yes, but what does it matter?"
"I don't know, why does it matter that I correct them?"
"Don't you think I prefer it when somebody thinks you're my family and I don't have to be reminded my real family are those fucks who left me to die?!"
Techno felt his heart skip his beat, felt his blood run cold in his veins. "Wilbur-"
But his brother's voice only got more frantic. "Don't you think I'd rather have you as my twin brother than have anything my birth parents could have ever been for me?!"
The silence that fell over them was awkward, Wilbur breathing just a little too heavily to play it off that he hadn't just been screaming at Techno in a supermarket while surrounded by toilet paper. No matter how empty this aisle was, people had definitely heard and were judging them silently. Techno wanted to shrivel up and die, for more reasons than just social anxiety.
"I'm sorry," he said.
Wilbur let go of him, head snapping up in surprise. "What?"
"I'm sorry. I didn't… I didn't know that's why it's important."
"You don't have to apologize."
"Fine, then I won't." Wilbur huffed, pretending to be offended. "But I… I don't mind it when people think we're twins. I never did. I just… I don't know, I didn't think you'd like it. Because your real family is still alive and mine are like, dead." He tagged a shrug on at the end, to show he wasn't trying to make the conversation emotional. That'd be terrible.
"Technoblade, you are my real family. So are Phil and Tommy. You're leagues better than the shitheads who birthed me," Wilbur said.
"Well, I agree with that."
"I kinda like it when people think we're twins. It's hilarious," Wilbur added.
Techno smiled. "I mean, it is kind of funny. And like I said, it's not like I mind."
"Good, because then I can do this."
Wilbur grabbed his wrist, dragging him along out of the toilet paper aisle and back to that poor minimum-wage worker with the taco cups. Techno should probably apologize to them but then again, anxiety…
"Excuse me," Wilbur started, ignoring their apprehensive look at seeing them again. "Yes, sorry, hi. Me and my-" he elbowed Techno in the side, really enunciating the words "-younger twin brother here would really like to try your tacos."
The man stared at them, unimpressed. "They're taco cups."
Wilbur's grin did not falter. "Yeah, whatever."
Techno was mildly surprised they did not get banned from Walmart forever after that. He was even more surprised at the dumb smile Wilbur couldn't seem to wipe off his face, especially every time he referred to Technoblade as his (twin) brother. It was adorable and very, very stupid. But hey, it meant Techno didn't have to bother with correcting random strangers anymore, which meant fewer social interactions for him. They could keep believing they were twins for all he cared.
They were definitely family either way.
