Work Text:
“Technoooo…!”
“Dream, love of my life, my other half, my sunshine, my moon and stars, my most precious, can you pretty please move? I’m trying to do my job.”
“You’re playing Minecraft.”
“I’m recording a video, and I already know I’m going to spend a good time editing your clinginess out.”
“But Technooooooo!”
Technoblade finally looks down at his boyfriend, cursing his weak simp heart. In his defense, not even SapNap is able to resist Dream’s kitty eyes most of the time, and they’ve been friends since childhood. How can anyone expect him, Technoblade, not to give in? He is far too gone for the blonde to resist, so he stops the recording—thank God it’s a recording and not a stream, that would be a whole new mess he really doesn’t have enough coffee to deal with—to direct his whole attention to the boy sitting on his lap.
Dream is heavily armed, eyes wide and lips in an adorable pout, wearing one of Techno’s big hoodies, mask nowhere to be seen. The blonde clutches Techno’s shirt, or at least he tries to, but the hoodie is too big and covers his hands, leaving him with cute sweater paws. Techno is, obviously, a very weak pig, surrendering himself to his little lion with a heated kiss.
“What’s makin’ you pout, babydoll?”
“AO3 crashed.”
Silence.
Of course, of course that the lion hybrid would come whine about losing his main source of entertainment. Not that Techno can say much, he had read and written fanfiction in his dark past, and he is still trying to prove that fanfiction is some sort of highly addictive drug.
“How?”
“Apparently, a super popular fic updated.”
“What fic?”
“I never read it, but I think it’s one that ships me with George…?”
Ah, yes, the Fandom’s OTP. The second biggest reason why Techno and Dream keep their relationship a secret from the world. Dealing with fans trying to use any interaction as evidence of their ship being canon and asking them to act this way or that way is already tiring enough—granted, a bit unfair to lump them all together, a lot of shippers are mostly chill—, but seeing the Fanom collectively lose their shit just brings a tsunami of exhaustion. Just imagining what the fans would do if they found out that their OTP is not canon—and never will be if Techno has any say in it—sends shivers down his spine.
If there is a God, please protect them from the fury of the Fandom.
“What were you reading?”
“Ah, you know…” Dream blushes, hiding his face in Techno’s chest. “Just some fluff.”
“You’re trying to convince me of that with that blush? I bet you have three smut works open.”
“I do not!”
“Then what are you reading?”
“... dreamnoblade fluff.”
Techno blinks once and twice, looking down at his pouting boyfriend while the words process. As soon as they do, his face quickly burns in embarrassment and his brows furrow in annoyance. To think he has been replaced by a fictional him so quickly. Dream is glaring directly at him, just as embarrassed, ears pressed against his blonde hair, and the pig hybrid can’t fight the urge to hug the living daylights of him.
“Was my little kitten that needy to go look for me in fanfiction?”
“Shut up. I was bored, and the tag has some great stuff.”
“And your ship with George got in the way. Poetic. Life really does imitate art.”
“If you’re going to make fun of me, I’ll just go read on Wattpad.”
Before the lion hybris could even think of getting up, Techno throws away his headphones and gets up, supporting the blonde by holding his thighs. Dream yelps at the sudden movement, then latches on to complaints and weak hits on the pig’s back. The blonde doesn’t usually act like a brat, but it’s a pleasure for Techno to spoil him even then, so he quickly makes way to their bed, throwing them both on the mattress with abandon.
“Or you can read them to me and we can make fun of them together.”
“It’s a date.”