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He absolutely should not.
It’s wretched to even think about it.
SapNap would be furious if he ever got wind of it.
Fundy would crumble where he stands in a million pieces.
Wilbur would kill him cell by cell, revive him and then kill him again.
And worst of all, Dream would blame himself to oblivion once he remembered.
It is way too risky, way too dangerous. Way out of the original plan.
But, then again, what did Technoblade expect from his free-spirited rival if not the unexpected? It is part of Dream’s charm, being almost impossible to predict. Even SapNap has trouble sometimes, and he is Dream’s oldest friend, practically his brother.
It is one of the reasons Techno now finds himself with such a dilemma.
SapNap had asked him to take Dream out for the day while he tried to talk with George about that disaster of a wedding—or in Dream Team speak: beat him to a bloody pulp and then asking what the fuck he was thinking when he kissed the blonde in his wedding after years of leaving him pining. According to the ravenette, Dream had fallen into some profound moping state—he refuses to say “depressed”, and Techno can only guess that it’s because that word in the same phrase as “Dream” just makes no sense—and only left his house when forced. And since Dream’s other friends were either occupied or going with SapNap to make sure he doesn’t burn George to a crisp before they get some answers, the arsonist asked the pinkette to cover for them.
Today will go down in history as the hardest challenge Technoblade has ever gone through. Starting with Dream’s get up, the red dress that shows off his shoulders and the flowy skirt down to his shins to allow a peek of the fishnets hugging his skin, the messy mane of hair falling like an angel’s halo around his beautiful face, the dark eyeliner bringing attention to the pieces of emerald he calls eyes, the vibrant red lipstick in thin but soft lips… If self-control was a skill, Techno would already be level +100.
The date—Dream insisted on calling it a date—had gone smoothly despite the many temptations the pinkette had to overcome. It’s been a while since the two of them could enjoy themselves together, with friendly bickering and playful competitions. Sure, Dream had flirted with him sometimes, and he couldn’t just not answer, but overall their interactions could pass up as just friends being friends.
Friends, however, don’t pin down the other on their bed and kiss them breathless.
And friends definitely don’t kiss back friends who are technically married.
And that is why Techno ends the kiss of his dreams—pun not intended—as soon as his senses return to him. Dream looks divine—when doesn’t he?—and it feels like there is fire burning inside his veins, trying to push him into taking the blonde’s lips for himself like he’s been wanting for some time now. Before he can say anything, however, Dream throws him a pitiful look, squeezing his heart painfully.
“Don’t you want me?”
“Dream, you’re married.”
“I love your eyes, you know?”
“Are you even listening to me?”
“They always look at me like I’m the only thing they ever want to see.”
Ah, he knew he should not have let Dream drink so much. The striking red against the golden freckles—a love letter to his status as a server saint—just makes him more enticing. Techno definitely shouldn’t be thinking such things about a technically married man, but his heart has been beating for the man straddling him for some time now, and even his ever so rational mind has betrayed him by now, giving him excuses to take up this sinful opportunity.
“You look at me like I’m everything you can trust and everything you could ever want… I feel so beautiful when you look at me…” The blonde gently caresses the pinkette’s cheek. So close, Techno can smell the blonde’s perfume, fruity and refreshing like a recently picked apple, mouth watering just like the rest of him. “No one else looks at me like that…”
“What about Fundy? You know, your husb—!?”
One moment, all it takes is Techno’s hold on the other’s shoulders to weaken for a moment, and he’s soon back to the beginning, kissing Dream like there might be no tomorrow to taste each other again. He’s a little ashamed to admit that he kisses back just as fast, losing a bit more of his already weak control, but the warm body on top of his and the soft lips that part for him make it hard to feel anything that isn’t immediate satisfaction.
Something warm falls on his face, and shaky breaths join Dream’s pleased sighs.
Dream cried too back then, at that disaster of a wedding, when Fundy looked at him like Dream had betrayed his trust after George tried to take him by force. How bitter is it that Technoblade, Dream’s sworn rival and secret unrequited crush, trusts the blonde more than Fundy, the man who technically married him? Does Fundy really think Dream would just leave him like that for an old flame? After how much Dream suffered with George’s selfish games? After seeing how happy the blonde was with him? After making Techno so envious by stealing his beloved so effortlessly?
Techno had been pretty ok with Fundy up until then, but now he can’t help the anger that fills him when he thinks about the ginger.
All because of the beauty who now separates from him, sitting on his torso while trying to wipe salty tears. The moonlight coming from the window illuminates him like a holy light, making both his golden hair and his golden jewelry shine. Techno remembers the necklace and earring set, he’s the one who bought it because Dream was made to wear gold, or perhaps gold was made to be worn by Dream. They are rather simple, both the necklace and the earrings, the biggest charm being the dangling emeralds trying to shine as much as the blonde's eyes; they fail, of course, but still look beautiful against the sun-kissed skin.
The word “sacred” comes to his mind, convincing him once more that more than the creator of a server—a server saint, as they are called—, Dream could easily be the creator of everything beautiful, the title of God of Beauty maybe even not enough for the blonde.
And here is Techno, the so-called Blood God, a mortal who acquired the favor of an actual server god, not a saint nor an angel, an immoral immortal that does nothing but lust for what isn’t his to begin with. First the rankings, then the money, then the fame, and now he lusts for a man who is already another’s, even if only under the eyes of the Almighty Lord of this entire Universe.
“This is kinda wrong… even if it isn’t official in the eyes of the Law, your marriage did happen.” He brings his hand up, gently wiping away the warm tears rolling down his beloved’s cheeks.
But does the Almighty care about what is done in between four walls?
“Will you regret it?” Dream asks, not even bothering to talk about the validity of his marriage. They married in the church, but the actual papers were supposed to be signed the day after. Needless to say, they were postponed, and no one but Fundy knows when it’ll happen, if it happens.
Does the Almighty worry about the fallen saints and corrupted gods?
“Never. I’m not that nice,” he answers, sitting up to bring the saint to his arms, “Will you?”
Does the Almighty even look down on these little dots from time to time?
“No.” Dream goes easily, allowing the pinkette to change their positions. Now sprawled under him, the blonde looks less divine and more sinful, like a wicked succubus hiding under the skin of a pure angel. “I’m sorry for being greedy.”
Does the Almighty even care if Technoblade is using him as an excuse for his sins?
“Then allow me to apologise too.”
Technoblade is no higher being, no saint or angel or god or devil, just a mortal favored by a server god, but he might as well take the title of demon for taking for himself a blessed being, knowing that he will never be able to let go now that he has tasted the forbidden fruit.
Though some part of him wonders, in between Dream’s loud calls of his name and his insatiable need to mark Techno’s skin with his nails, who’s seducing who.
Not that it matters, Adam and Eve did fall together regardless.