(reposting Bc I Fucked Up Formatting. Set In The Same Sire!Ranboo With Fledgling!Techno AU I Wrote Here.)

(reposting bc I fucked up formatting. Set in the same sire!Ranboo with fledgling!Techno AU I wrote here.)

The nest isn’t very warm.

And Ranboo is freaking out because he doesn’t know what to do about it. Turn on the heaters, obviously. But the buttons are all fiddly and Ranboo doesn’t know how to connect the plug because Wilbur always keeps pulling it out again since he’s scared one of the younger ones will give themself a burn messing with them and Ranboo should be figuring it out but he can’t, he can’t concentrate when his fledgling is shivering like that, curled up into a tight ball and making a low whining noise.

He’s hurt, Ranboo’s mind unhelpfully provides. As if it’s not clear by the misery coming off the fledgling in waves, hitting right into the sensitive epicenter of Ranboo’s brain that has been activated since he became a sire barely two hours ago.

Phil always said it could be a rather intense experience. He never warned Ranboo about this.

“I’m working on it, really, just… hold on, okay?” He doesn’t think his words are reassuring to the fledgling. The man hasn’t really been reacting to them at all. He’s in no state to speak, he hasn’t even been able to tell Ranboo his name.

Probably because Ranboo is a horrible sire who can’t even succeed in the most basic task of giving his fledgling a safe nest.

How can he already be screwing things up this badly?

He gives up on the heaters then, partly because he doesn’t want to wait a minute longer and partly because he knows the others will be back soon and they can just get them working. Ranboo can’t waste anymore time.

His fledgling needs to be held. Ranboo needs to be a good sire.

“Come here,” Ranboo tells him, rearranging pillows nervously.

The fledgling doesn’t move.

Ranboo let his thrall die down a while ago, too young to keep it up that long. His fledgling hadn’t tried to run away again and he had chosen to interpret that as a positive sign. But now he was refusing to get up from his spot on the floor.

“Look, it’s- It’s exactly as it should be, right?” Ranboo gestures at the bed. He almost sounds like he’s questioning himself. As if this isn’t the exact nest he’d spent consecutive weeks in when he was first turning. “It’s very comfy and soft and I’m sure we can get it warmed up in no time. You’ll feel better.”

Still nothing.

Something settles deep in Ranboo’s gut. It’s unpleasant and painful, and he knows it’s probably bad. But it eats at some uncertain part of him that clouds his mind. He’s angry. Angry that his fledgling isn’t listening.

Angry that he would deny Ranboo’s care. Can’t he see that Ranboo is trying to help?

But it’s gone as soon as it pops up and Ranboo feels terrible because of course, of course this fledgling would not recognize a nest when he was kept in a cell. of course, Ranboo will have to show him.

The man flinches a little when Ranboo grabs his wrist. He tries to grab high enough that his fingers don’t press into any bruises or scars.

“You need to rest.”

The fledgling struggle against him. Ranboo shakes his head, patient. He’s a lot stronger than his fledgling, especially in his current state, so it’s not too hard to drag him over to where they need to be.

Just as Ranboo thought, his precious one does not know what’s good for him.

When they’re both in the nest, the struggling dies down quick enough. As if a flip has been switched in his brain. The man’s pupils dilate again, not unlike what happened during thrall. But it’s a different kind of instinct he’s lost in now. His chest rises and falls rapidly with unneeded pseudo-breathes.

Ranboo holds his fledgling close to his chest, threading fingers into long pink hair gently and pretending he can’t feel the way he shivers at his touch. The fear inside his fledgling spikes, feeding through the bond until it has Ranboo cringing.

But he ignores it.

Soon this will be easier. Ranboo knows it will be.