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We all know that one girl: the one that has all the boys drooling all over her. The one that has too many friends that only want to be considered as such for the sake of popularity. The one obsessed with eating healthy and most likely has an eating disorder. The one always on her phone during class, which she only gets away with because she gives the teacher a ‘fun time’ after class so she can even pass the grade. Curly blonde hair, slim waist, daisy dukes, crop tops, captain of the cheerleader squad, has a collection of all the jocks varsity jackets in her closet, a smoothie always in hand, you get the gist.
Okay- maybe that seems like a pretty specific description, but at Esempii High School, every student knows this girl, or rather boy, all too well. His name? Dream. Dream Clay Schlatt, and this male cheerleader? A walking star- no, god at his school. Not one person has ever been able to take him off his pedestal, and he never plans on being knocked off ‘till he graduates.
He lost his virginity about a week into his freshman year, and by a sophomore named George. Rumor has it he topped that bitch five minutes in. A couple months later, he made the cheerleader team, and easily made his way to the top of the pyramid. Sure, his friend group was filled with jealous cunts and horny sex freaks, but he had his school life going for him. Now, he’s a junior, and he has the whole school wrapped around his pinky finger.
“Dream? Hello? Are you gonna eat?” His obnoxious friend, Skeppy, waved his fork in front of Dream's face, knocking him out of his daydreaming. He shook his head ‘no’, muttering something about the amount of grease and carbs in the school meals. The diamond hybrid took that as a hint, and slid the tray next to his own.
“Dream, your anorexia is showing. You need to eat something,” Badboyhalo, his demon hybrid friend, points out with a joking smirk on his face. He tosses a cereal bar over to the blonde, who curses him out when he sees that the nutrition facts are scribbled out by sharpie. “I think it might have ranged from 60 calories to 340. I may or may not have forgotten.”
Dream sighs, unwrapping the food and taking a small bite off the top. He grimaces at the sugary taste, still questioning the amount of sugar in the snack. Bad’s glare convinces him to keep eating.
He pulls out his phone from the pocket of the oversized varsity jacket hanging off his revealed shoulders. He swiftly unlocks his phone, and scrolls through Twitter, crossing his legs under his cheerleader skirt. He takes another bite of the snack bar in his left hand.
“So, how do you guys think you did on the history homework from last night?” Skeppy quips, a grin obviously spread across his stupid face. Dream nearly chokes.
“I mean, it really wasn’t that hard. Just a couple pages of vocab and questions from the lesson,” Bad responds. Dream never pays attention in class, and he only has twenty minutes of lunch left until his next class: History.
Somebody please just kill him right now.
“Shit, shit…” Dream curses, shoving his phone back in its pocket, and swinging his legs over the bench so he can stand up. He shoots his friends a dirty look as they both begin laughing at the boy’s forgetful nature. “Look, I had practice yesterday, okay? I didn’t have time for dumb, fucking history homework!”
Dream growled under his breath as Skeppy’s giggles grew louder, and flipping Bad off when he wheezed out a mock-offended gasp, screeching the word language as if he doesn’t curse on a normal, goddamn basis. The blonde storms off, making a beeline towards the library.
Once there, he paces around as he tries to find someone who will allow him to . . . borrow their answers. He finds himself sitting down on a table near the back, where another student with a long braid of pink hair sat in a cushioned chair, reading a book with a plain red cover.
This student is none other than Technoblade Minecraft. The piglin hybrid has a broad frame, piercing red eyes, and scars that litter his arms and face. Square glasses sit on the bridge of his nose, and the man seems to have a love for reading. Many people who see him in the library, which is where he is happiest, are prone to calling him a nerd, but not one person has ever been able to take him in a fight, and very few seem interested in trying.
“Hello? Are you busy?” Dream leans on the back of the chair, whispering into the pinkett's ear. The one in question doesn’t even glance up from the book he’s reading, muttering a sound of confirmation that he is, in fact, busy.
Dream has seen Techno around- he knows just about everybody by name. He just refuses to let people know. However, he doesn’t know about the man’s reputation throughout the student body. So, it’s obvious that he’s going to underestimate some ‘rando’ just trying to read so he can avoid failing class.
“Well, I was just wondering if you could take some time out of your . . . book to do me a quick favor?” Dream wraps his arms around the piglin hybrid and rests his hands on his chest and his chin on his left shoulders. He smirks when he feels the man tense up, and shift his position slightly. His smirk quickly falls, however, when Techno releases an annoyed groan, marking his book and placing it on the side table next to him.
Shit. Is this guy straight?
“Look, as . . . ‘enticing’ as that sounds,” sarcasm laces his voice as he pushes Dream’s arms off of him. “I truly am busy, and I’m not looking for whatever you have to offer, okay? So just go find some other person to bother.” Techno reached for his book again.
Normally, Dream wouldn’t care and he would move on to the next. However, not only has Dream never really been told no by a fellow student (other than his close friednd’s Bad and Skeppy), but this guy had a challenging aurora floating around him, and it fueled Dream more than the blonde realized. This is what led him to do what he did next.
With one hand on the armrest of the chair, and his other hand on Techno’s, he leaned in close enough that their breaths blended together. All it would take is a slight nudge from behind and- no. He has a goal, and he doesn’t have time to think about that. He does take pride in the way that Techno’s breath hitches, though. He tilts his head.
“Alright, tough guy. You wanna play this the hard way? Fine by me, I prefer it that way anyways,” Dream’s voice is nearly above a whisper, and his emerald eyes shamelessly trace Techno’s face, looking for at least one sign of defeat, but he finds nothing. From his deadly, narrowed eyes to his pursed, moist lips to the prominent scars that decorate his face, he found nothing. “All I’m looking for is the answers to the history homework from last night, and maybe I could repay you in a,” Dream bites his lip, ”different way than you're used to.”
Techno quirks an eyebrow, and pushes the blonde off of him, much to the latter’s disappointment. “I already told you, cheerleader, I’m not interested, m’kay?” And with that, he walked away to the small café in the corner of the library. Despite the failure of his mission, Dream couldn’t push down the smile on his face.
He went back to the cafeteria. Without any context, he asks the two if they had ever had any interactions with the hybrid. They both exchange looks before Skeppy jumps up, suddenly remembering something.
“Oh, yeah! Technoblade! He’s my roommate in a small apartment across town. He’s barely ever home, and he usually leaves me a list of chores to do while he goes to the library,” he rambles on. “I met him in the main lobby when I was looking for a place to move, and he was in the same place. One thing led to another, and now we live together.” He concludes his speech with a satisfied nod.
Bad presses his lips together with suspicion painting his face. He turns to talk to Dream, however the blonde teen is now running through the double doors of the cafeteria. The demon hybrid shouts when he sees his black book bag slung over the blonde's shoulder, ”You son of a bitch! Give that back!”
“Tah-tah, fuck stain,” Dream smirks slyly, spinning around and offers a two fingered salute before continuing out the foodhall.
Good news: Dream got all the answers in time before history class, and even better news: he realized that he had Techno in many of his own classes. Therefore, he was able to bother the man throughout the entirety of the week, and he enjoyed every bit of it. At some point, Techno even tried to take longer routes to class just to avoid running into Dream, who would constantly flirt with him.
Now, it’s a dark and rainy Thursday afternoon. Dream just finished practice, and even though all of his possible modes of transportation are taken up by something, some of the girls from the cheer squad offered him a ride so he should be fine, right? Wrong.
A white BMW pulls up, purposely driving through a deep puddle and splashing water all down the front of Dream’s outfit. The man gasps, stumbling back as the tinted window rolls down revealing a girl with wavy brown hair in the driver’s seat. She pulls a pink lollipop from her mouth. He scowls at her, and she narrows her eyes with a rude smirk.
“Oh, my bad Dreamie! I don’t know how I didn’t see you there with that hideous lime green hoodie,” she insults, a few laughs from the back seat acting as an unnecessary echo for her words. “Plans have changed, by the way. Turns out I don’t have enough room for you because this seat is reserved for my purse. Guess you’ll just have to find someone else.” She fake pouts, and more laughs ring behind her, and Dream bites the inside of cheek. Suddenly, thunder booms through the sky and large drops of water fall from the dark grey sky.
“I’m sure I’ll manage, Tiffany,” Dream grits through his teeth. She cackles and rolls up her window, driving off and splashing the blonde with muddy water again. Dream shoots a bird at the expensive vehicle, cursing out the girls under his breath as he walks through the parking lot in the pouring rain.
“Too bad you can’t seduce the storm clouds, huh?” a deep, monotone voice says behind him, sending chills down his spine. Also, the rain stops hitting him due to a large black umbrella shielding them from the freezing water. The blonde teen spins on heel, face to face with his pink haired obsession of the past week. It was his turn to feel his breath catch in his throat.
“Uh,” Dream stutters quite eloquently. “Y-yeah, yeah. That’s funny,” he laughs breathlessly. Give him a break! He’s pissed and soaking wet! Technoblade chuckles, making Dream’s face heat up despite the cold atmosphere.
“So, why are you out in the rain? You don’t seem like the type of person to enjoy getting soaked to the bone,” Techno comments. Dream looks down at the pavement before looking back up at the piglin hybrid in front of him.
“Well, freezing half to death was never on my bucket list for high school, but people can change I guess,” the blonde jokes, putting a hand on his hip. He continued bitterly. “I originally had plans to ride with a group, but the driver decided her purse was more important than a fellow student. Therefore, my seat was taken by a cheap, inanimate Micheal Kors handbag.” Dream spat out the end of the sentence, and Techno hummed a sound of understanding.
“Oh, I see. So your friends weren’t actually your friends. Yeah, I get that,” Techno smirks. Dream gives a thoughtful expression, and Techno waits for evaluation.
“Well, I wouldn’t say she was ever my friend. The bitch has always been jealous of me, but it just so happens that we have to put up with each other because of a similar hobby: Cheerleading. Life is so unfair,” Dream states dramatically, causing Techno to roll his eyes. Dream lets out a defensive gasp when he sees this, and Techno sticks his tongue out at the blonde playfully.
“So, anyways, do you wanna ride home?” Techno offers nonchalantly. Dream looks at him like he just told him it was currently bright and sunshiny.
“Wait, are you serious? Just like that?” He asks bewildered. Techno nods, and Dream just realized how much he’s been shivering. Techno seems to notice as well.
“Well, come on. You don’t wanna catch a cold, do you? I don’t think being sick looks good on anyone,” Techno turns around and starts walking in the direction of his car, Dream quickly scampering behind him to keep under the umbrella. They don’t walk for too long before they come across a red, beat-up pick up truck. Techno fumbles around in his hoodie pockets, pulling out a Ford key that matches the truck. Dream simply gawks at the man, eyes wide and jaw dropped.
“This is your car?” he screeches. “I’m not riding in something, so-“ he can't even finger the words for how old, and dirty this truck looks. Maybe it’s better on the inside, but Dream seriously doubts it.
“Actually, it’s a truck. What? Gonna turn down a perfectly good ride because it’s not in a fancy Lamborghini? Sorry, blondey, but not everyone can afford a Mercedes as their first car,” Techno tosses the keys around in his hands before unlocking the drivers door and climbing in, leaving Dream in the rain on the passenger side. The pinkette swiftly reaches over and unlocks the door, allowing Dream to hop up onto the cotton seat.
Dream observes the cabin of the truck. It’s a basic black interior with beige seats, and a crown charm hangs from a golden chain on the rear view mirror. There was also a faint smell of Taco Bell and coffee reminiscing throughout the vehicle. The radio hums quietly when Techno starts up the engine, and Dream takes note of the pop station playing the song ‘Heatwaves’ by Glass Animals. Disgusting memories replay in his head.
“Are you still cold? I don’t have an ac or any heating systems, so if you want you can borrow my hoodie. I’m planning on taking it off anyways,” Techno knocks Dream out of his thoughts a bit too quickly, and Dream just stares at him for a moment while he processes what the pinkette just said. Techno gives him an expectant gesture, and Dream stutters out a response.
“O-oh! Yeah, that- that would be fine, thanks,” a Dream laughs slightly, cringing at his awkwardness as the piglin hybrid to his left discards the sweat shirt and tosses it into Dream’s lap. The latter pulls the maroon fabric over his head, settling in the warmth of the cotton clothing. He pulls his seatbelt over his lap before slinging the hood over his head, startling when the oversized hood covers his eyes.
A smile creeps on his face when Techno lets out a small chuckle. “So, cheerleader, where’s your usual charm, huh?” he quips. Dream giggles a bit, biting his lip as he thinks of a response.
“I mean, it’s kinda hard to act cool when you're soaking wet and caught off guard,” Dream finally says. The piglin driver shakes his head with a smirk.
“With how much you complain about bein’ wet, you would think you’ve never had a shower,” he chuckles. “All the more reason to get you inside so you’ll shut up about some dumb water.” Dream releases a defensive gasp, however he is unable to contain the smile on his face.
After a few minutes, Dream catches Techno mouthing the words to the song on the radio. He listens to it for a moment until he recognizes it, and he grins again.
It’s karaoke time, bitch.
“Oh, baby when you talk like that, you make a woman go mad,” Dream looks over at Techno as he sings, taking note of the faint smirk embellishing his features. “So be wise and keep on reading the signs of my body.”
Dream moves his hips despite the restraint of the seatbelt, dancing mainly with his head, neck, and shoulders. He continues singing, leaning as close to Techno as he can, “I’m on tonight, you know my hips don’t lie and I’m startin’ to feel it’s right. All the attraction, the tension. Don’t you see, baby, this is perfection?”
“Have you looked up the lyrics or somethin’? I’ve never met anyone who actually knew the ending part of the chorus,” Techno questions, keeping his eyes on the road despite the blonde being right next to his face, sending slight shivers down his spine as he whispers his response.
“I mean, I’ve had my fair share of karaoke,” he hums. They sit there and listen to the song until Shakira’s chorus comes up again and Dream sings again.
“I’m on on tonight, you know my hips don’t lie and I’m startin’ to feel you, boy.” He reaches over for Techno jaw, but the man quickly pulls away. Dream felt a tang of disappointment. Sure, they were on the road, but it still felt like harsh rejection.“Don't you see, baby, así es perfecto?”
Dream never stopped singing, but it soon became somewhat mindless. The stunt he had tried to pull along with Techno’s response to it never left his mind. He really can’t understand why, of all the things, something only slightly suggestive made him feel so queasy and terribly . . . guilty? Maybe it was the apathetic, almost disgusted expression on the pinkett's face when he pulled away? Maybe it was the sliver of hope that was shattered by the simple movement of this head? Dream didn’t know, but didn’t need to know when he was yet again yanked out of his own dazed off state by a warm hand meeting his cheek.
“You alright?” Techno mutters, looking into Dream’s eyes. It appears as though they have arrived somewhere, but it’s definitely not his house. The blonde’s vision blurs and it’s just now that he realizes he’s crying.
And that he’s in the fetal position. Shit.
“Y-yeah. I’m fine,” Dream lies, wiping away the pricks of tears forming in his eyes. “I’m just tired.” He fakes a yawn, and Techno narrows his eyes at him. He glares at him for a moment before shrugging and shoving his door open so he can jump out of his truck. Dream follows the others actions, stumbling slightly from the height of the trucks. He takes note that he is, indeed, actually tired, so he didn’t really lie to Techno.
The rest of the night is pretty much a blur. Once they made it into Techno’s apartment, Dream collapsed on his couch. Soon, he was ambushed by a shirt stack of neatly folded clothes to change into because his current clothes were sticking to his body. He changed quickly, and settled onto the couch across from Techno. All he remembers is blacking out after that.
But that’s not exactly where it ended.
Skeppy fumbles with his keys, cursing himself out for never organizing like his roommate always suggests. He silently mocks the pinkette, acting out all the times he has lectured him about not being able to keep track of things. Finally, he unlocks the door, shoving it open and greeting the two people on the couch. Wait, two-
“I’m home-“ he drags out the vowels, his voice quickly dropping when he sees one of his best friends cuddling with his roommate. He gawks at the scene in front of him, fighting the temptation to pull out his phone.
On his couch is Dream, wearing Technoblade’s burgundy hoodie, resting against the latter’s shoulder. Dream is sleeping, but Techno is not. In fact, he is currently wide eyed and glaring at Skeppy with an index finger pulled up to his lips.
The ore hybrid suddenly starts making wild gestures towards Dream and Techno, miming out his confusion as best he could. He never was the best charades player. With a series of thrusting motions with his arms and hearts formed by his hands, Techno just purses his lips in defeat, giving up on his attempt at understanding his friend.
He looks over at the sleeping blonde, taking in the serenity that the teen gives off. With the freckles dotting his cheeks, his long, blonde lashes brushing his cheeks, the tiny scar on his slightly pink lips. Even Technoblade can admit that this boy is almost perfect, it’s just a shame that the whole school body sees it differently than they should.
Techno sighs and kisses the boy’s head, whispering into his dirty blonde locks, “I promise to never take advantage of you the way so many others have. I swear it on my life.”
“I love you,” it was quiet and muffled. It was so innocent sounding coming from someone who has been seen as a man whore since his first day of highschool, but Techno didn’t miss it. He smiled, his response even quieter than the sleeping teen.
“I love you, too, Dream.”