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“It’s because Dream messaged me! The second Dream messaged me advice, my kill rate goes up 150%.”
Dream would’ve never thought that’d he be sitting in the stands during an MCC, watching everybody else compete for the title of winner, and not being mad about it in the slightest. To be fair, he wasn’t exactly happy when he found out he wouldn’t be in this championship, but after learning that Technoblade, the man he’s admired and followed for so long, was going to be in it, he found that sitting on the sidelines wasn’t so bad.
When he had first messaged Techno, he hadn’t been expecting much. He had thought the messages would sit until Techno sees them after the entire event had ended, or they would be lost completely in the millions of messages the man must get daily. He hadn’t expected the pinkette to respond, tell his team about the messages, and then proceed to both grin widely and scan the crowd until his eyes met Dream’s mask, his sharp grin turning softer.
If teenage-Dream could see him now, he’s sure he would combust.
Dream had discovered Techno when he was fifteen, passing by a flyer in his hometown advertising a competition called MCM, and being immediately intrigued. Dream, who was practically obsessed with sword fighting at the time, had immediately canceled his plans with Georgeーeven though he was looking forward to exploring the dark oak forest near their home villageーto grab his horse and ride the five miles it took to the capital city.
He had sat in the stands with the rest of the fans of the event, much like he was doing now, watching with awe as a pink-haired warrior cut through competitors as if they were simply blades of grass swaying in the wind. At first, he had been memorized by the incredible talent of the boy, who seemed to be the same age as him, and he found himself wanting to fight the boy himself more than anything else in the world.
As time went on, however, and he began training himself and watchingーwho he quickly learned was namedーTechnoblade, he found himself being more attracted to simply him than his skill. He had originally thought it was a small thing, something that would go away with time, something he would forget about in the future. He knew the boy was conventionally attractive, with sharp features, strong arms, and a smirk that made people go weak at the knees; surely many people who know of his existence have small crushes on him, right?
As time went on, however, and his feelings didn’t lessen, but grew, he realised that this wasn’t a small, juvenile thing.
“Dream just messaged me, he said ‘doing great!’”
When Dream finally managed to gather the courage to message Techno about partnering with him for MCM, he had thought the pinkette would at least respond; sure, he’d probably reject the offer, but at least he’d be aware of Dream’s existence. He knew the warrior wasn’t unknown at the time, but he thought that Techno couldn’t have that many messages sent to him every day, and he’d surely see Dream’s message. Based on the fact that he never got a response, Dream supposed the boy was either more famous than he thought, or he simply didn’t know how to let Dream down lightly.
Life went on, and Dream spent the majority of his free time training. If he wasn’t good enough for Techno to notice him before, then he has to be stronger. When he wasn’t training or studying other people’s techniques, he was following Techno to almost every competition the man went to. He had crafted a mask out of some wood he found in the forest, painting it white and letting a child in the street draw a smiley face on it, to wear while he competes, so in the off-chance that Techno notices him in the crowds of every single one of his competitions, he wouldn’t relate him to the steadily-growing-in-popularity warrior with the smiley face mask.
Not long after Dream started watching Techno compete in MCC, his popularity skyrocketed. He was gaining supporters at breakneck speed, his name was becoming mentioned by people who he considered leagues above him, and he was being sent event offers left and right. He had a fleeting thought, throughout all the stress of having millions of eyes suddenly scrutinizing him, that Technoblade probably knows who he is.
Turns out, he was right. When the organizer of MCC had approached him and offered him a spot, he took it without a second thought. When he remembered that Techno would be in the same competition as him, he became giddier than he had in a long, long while. He was nervous beyond belief, but the thought of finally being able to meet Techno, of finally being able to impress Techno, overshadowed it all.
He hadn’t thought Techno would make him so nervous. When the pinkette was, jokingly, simping for him, he didn’t think a flush would appear behind his mask. He didn’t think he would lose his composure even before the event started, pretending like he didn’t hear the words and continuing to kill time around the arena. He had to deal with Techno’s comments to him during the entire event, but it didn’t stop him from getting third place individually, and, hopefully, claiming a space of respect in Techno’s mind.
“Can we swap in Dream? Dream, please?”
His duel with the pinkette had been fun, until it wasn’t. They both knew it was only for show, a way for the sponsor of the event to gain more popularity and for their respective fans to know that they don’t actually hate each other, despite what their “rivalry” implies, but Dream was terribly nervous anyway. His nerves didn’t stop him from almost winning, and having more fun than he had in a long while, but it did stop him from realizing that Techno’s sword had cracked his mask. He hadn’t cared about accidently face revealing to his fans, he didn’t care about their opinions or critiques, all he cared about was if the most powerful warrior he’s ever met would notice him from the stands of every single competition he’s been to.
He also had a fleeting wish that Techno found him attractive, too, but he pushed it to the back of his mind.
Techno had found him in the locker rooms after he had run out of the arena in a haze of panic, and he had pointedly looked away from Dream’s face before taking his own mask off, handing it to the blond without a second thought. Dream was glad Techno wasn’t looking at him at the time, since his face was, without a doubt, as red as Techno’s ruby eyes. To this day, he still doesn’t know if the pinkette recognized him, but for his pride’s sake, he believes that he didn’t.
When Dream started a server for him and his friends to goof off in, which later turned into a server for him and a bunch of other people to create a storyline and act it out, he had to restrain himself from inviting Techno immediately. He didn’t think the pinkette would accept, so he kept his mouth shut until he physically couldn’t anymore, sending an invite out to Techno before shutting his communicator off and smothering his face in his hands.
To his surprise, Techno accepted, and after some time, their respective characters’ story lines somehow interlocked and bounced off each other. Now, the two were spending hours a day sitting in a dingy little cell, talking about whatever-comes-to-mind during the breaks they get between shooting scenes. Instead of the somewhat-awkward small talk that occurred between the two of them at the beginning of their relationship, Dream now feels comfortable talking to Techno about literally anything.
It’s safe to say that the more Dream talks to Techno, the more he realizes that he genuinely has feelings for the pinkette.
“I have Dream on the line, I’m just sayin’.”
Every past action of his has led up to this exact moment, with him sitting in the stands as Techno gets eliminated from Survival Games. The pinkette had made it far, but based on the leaderboards, not far enough. Their team had gotten third place by 2 points, and Dream had a fleeting thought that if he had been swapped in instead of Phil, they would’ve made it to the final, but he immediately dismissed it as jealousy for not being able to compete alongside Techno again. Their team seemed happy nonetheless, and Dream, once again, marvels at how respectable it is that Techno’s never been a sore loser.
He stayed in the stands for the final event anyway, cheering on Illumina, despite their past “rivalry.” He should really reconsider making rivals, he’s not good at the whole “hating them” part of it. Once the event was over, however, and the fans around him started filing off to their own servers, Dream found himself lingering. For what? He doesn’t know. (It wasn’t for the off-chance that Techno would visit him, his stupid wishful thinking needs to be put under control).
When he finally decided to leave, he cast one last glance at Techno, who was talking to the rest of his teammates with a smirk on his face, and smiled at the sight, turning and making the long walk back to the portal that’ll take him back to his home server. He waved to a couple people, mainly competitors (not Techno, as much as he wishes), on his way to the portal, but he was generally left alone.
Just as he was about to step into the purple mist, a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He glanced back at who the owner of the appendage was and suddenly thanked his mask and its coverage when he noticed it was Techno gripping his shoulder. He fully turned to face the man, smiling, even if it wasn’t seen, at the somewhat-sheepish expression on the pinkette’s face. Technoblade wasn’t shy, so why did he look so nervous?
“Oh, Technoblade!” His voice might’ve come out a little too enthusiastic, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care, due to his entire focus being on the piglin hybrid in front of him. “Good job! You continue to impress me every day, and even though you look perfect wearing the first place crown, you don’t look too bad with just the third place medal.” So Dream likes to flirt with him sometimes, so what? He likes being able to make a hardened warrior blush and look away, even if it doesn’t help his crush on the man.
“It was all thanks to your advice.” Techno has this crooked little smile on his face, and Dream had to clamp his jaw shut to stop himself from cooing at the sight. One of Techno’s hands rises to fiddle with the aforementioned medal resting on his neck, a gesture Dream distantly recognizes as a nervous habit. What does he have to be nervous about? “Maybe, uh-” Techno cut himself off, clearing his throat before continuing, his eyes cast towards the ground instead of Dream’s mask, “maybe you can teach me how to duel wield sometime? Since I couldn’t do it during Sky Battle.”
“Like, a private lesson?” Dream was caught between two parts of his brain; one side was telling him don’t get your hopes up, he just wants to get better at fighting, while the other screamed Techno doesn’t act like this with anyone else, this is your chance! He didn’t know which one to believe, so he went with the first thing that came to mind: horribly flirting. Does this even count as flirting? You know what, it doesn’t even matter.
“Yeah, private lessons sound good.” Techno seems distinctly less nervous than before, and Dream wonders where the confidence came from. “I do better with one on one lessons, especially if they’re from someone as skilled as you.” Is this flirting? No, this- is it? It doesn’t even matter if Techno’s attempting to flirt with him, since the smirk on the pinkette’s face was enough to cause a blush to rise high on Dream’s cheeks.
“Yeah, uh, pri- private lessons sound good! Yeah.” Techno must’ve sucked the confidence out of Dream and given it to himself, because what the fuck was that? Dream could hardly look at Techno, casting his eyes to the ground and not reacting when he noticed Techno’s boots moving closer to him, settling directly in Dream’s line of view. “I’m free tomorrow, if, um, if that works for you.”
Techno’s smirk turned into something softer when Dream finally glanced up, his eyes half-lidded and his lips transforming into a small smile. “Tomorrow works just fine, Dream.” The blond nodded, cracking his knuckles, a nervous habit of his, and not reacting when Techno walked even closer, shifting so he could walk past Dream. He stopped directly next to the blond, their shoulder nearly brushing, and looked over at the masked face. “Meet you at the usual sparrin’ place on your server?”
“Sounds good.” Dream did an awkward thumbs up, matching perfectly with his awkward agreement. Techno chuckled, bumping his shoulder against Dream’s own before walking into the portal behind the blond. The man stood there for a moment more, collecting himself, before following the pinkette through the purple mist. On his entire way home, he had one thought ricocheting throughout his head:
Did he just score himself a date?