Work Text:
It’s Dream’s first day at college.
It’s his first day at college, and he’s nervous as hell.
His legs are shaking so hard he can barely walk. Honestly, he’s not sure how he even managed to get up this morning, let alone make it all the way to campus. Yet here he is, standing in front of the administrative building and staring at the door.
Dream forces himself to take a deep breath. You can do this, he tells himself. Slowly, he approaches the door and uses his ID to get in. Once inside, he heads straight to the office to get a map of campus and confirm his schedule.
The lady at the desk greets him with a cheerful “Hello!” At the sound of her voice, yellow swirls appear in his mind’s vision. Well used to the effects of his sensory condition, Dream ignores them and focuses on the lady. He musters a small smile, which luckily seems to satisfy her.
“What’s your name, dear?” the lady asks.
“Dream Wastake,” he replies.
“Dream, Dream,” she mutters as she thumbs through a thick sheaf of papers. “Ah, here we go.” She hands him a map, then scans a sheet with his name, picture, and information on it. Her eyebrows shoot up, like most people’s do when they see his IDs. “You have synesthesia?”
“Yeah, I do.” Dream shuffles his feet awkwardly as the yellow swirls appear again. It’s a little distracting, but only because he doesn’t like yellow. “I already included that in my application and everything, so it shouldn’t be an issue, right?”
“Oh no, of course not,” the lady hurriedly says. “It was just interesting. Anyways, you’re not staying in one of our dorms, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Well then, you’re all set to go! Have a great first day!”
“Thank you,” Dream murmurs. He clutches his map to his chest and hurries away. From memory, he knows that his schedule is all classes for his major, which is fine arts. Using his map, he navigates to his first class. He settles in his chair and prepares for a long first day.
---
Many hours later, Dream’s final class ends. He quickly leaves the building and speed walks across campus, eager to reach his bike and get back to his apartment that he shares with his childhood best friend, Sapnap. He’s also excited to see his cat Patches again and, most importantly, get back to his in-progress painting. Painter has been his career choice for many years now, and he’s already started. He’d sold his first painting a few months back for a fairly good profit, and he’s hoping that he’ll be able to do the same with this one once he’s finished with it.
Dream is so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice the guy until it’s too late. They crash into each other, and Dream quickly scrambles back. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” he yelps.
“It’s okay,” the guy says. His voice is deep and monotone, and it instantly causes Dream’s senses to go haywire. Shades of blue burst in his mind’s eye, swirling together like water. White specks rush by like flurries of snow, mixing with the blue to make a gorgeous blend of winter colors. It’s perfect and overwhelming and beautiful all at the same time, and Dream… Dream loves it.
He realizes the guy is staring at him and quickly snaps back to attention. That’s also when he notices that the guy is super hot. His face, framed by long pink hair, is handsome and angular, with a jaw sharp enough to cut glass. His irises are red, and he’s tall- at least 6’3- and has broad shoulders and muscular arms.
“Sorry!” Dream squeaks again. His cheeks burn from embarrassment, and he takes a few more steps back. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“It’s okay,” the guy repeats. The mesmerizing colors appear again, and Dream frantically tries to clear them away.
“I’ll just go now.” Dream ducks his head and begins to turn to leave. He’s stopped, however, by a hand seizing his arm. Startled, he turns back around to face the guy.
“Y-yes?”
“Wait,” the guy says, and the colors return once again. “What’s your name?”
“Dream,” Dream responds cautiously. “What- what’s yours?”
“I’m Techno. Techno Blade.” The guy hesitates, then continues with, “Would you like to meet up somewhere sometime?”
Dream’s breath hitches. Is Techno asking him out on a date? He mentally shakes away the thought as soon as it pops up. Don’t be an idiot, he scolds himself. He probably just wants to get to know you better as friends. That’s all.
“Sure,” he agrees. “I’d love that, actually.”
“Cool.” A small smile curls across Techno’s handsome face. “Do you know the cafe near campus?”
“I’m new to this area, but I should be able to find it.”
“Alright. This Saturday at 4?”
“Yeah, that works for me.”
Techno’s smile grows a tiny bit wider. “Great. I’ll see you then.” He waves before turning and jogging away.
For a moment, Dream stands there, frozen. Then, he turns and bolts to the bike racks. He hops on his bike and pedals home as fast as he can. Upon reaching his apartment, he practically throws his bike into the racks before racing up the stairs and through the front door.
His best friend, Sapnap, looks up as he enters. “Hey dude. What’s up? You look red.” At the ravenette’s words, warm shades of red and orange lick across Dream’s mental vision like tongues of flame. Sapnap’s voice has always been his favorite to look at, at least until now.
“Hi, Sap,” Dream pants, out of breath from the ride. “Nothing happened.”
Sapnap raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that? You look like a tomato.”
“I’m just tired, that’s all.”
“Dream.” Sapnap stands up and walks over to Dream. He places his hands on his hips. “What happened.”
“I ran into a guy today,” Dream admits. “He was, um, really hot.”
A Cheshire Cat grin spreads across Sapnap’s face. “Really? Do tell more.”
Dream blushes. “His name is Techno. He invited me to have coffee with him this Saturday.”
“Oooh, it’s a date!” Sapnap croons. “Do you like him?”
“It’s not a date, Sap,” Dream protests. “We barely even know each other.” Then, in a much smaller voice, he says, “His voice is really pretty, though.”
“What color is it?”
“Blue. Lots of blue, in every shade possible. There’s bits of white as well. It’s like looking at a winter wonderland.”
“That does sound nice,” Sapnap agrees. “Are you going on the date?”
“It’s not a date,” Dream mutters. “But yes, I will go.”
Sapnap’s grin grows even wider, if that’s even possible. “Good. And if you don’t, I will personally drag you over to the coffee shop.”
“You don’t even know where it is!”
“I’ll find it.”
Dream rolls his eyes. “Duly noted. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go paint.”
Sapnap’s face softens. “Sure, dude. What do you want to order for dinner?”
“Um, pizza, maybe?”
“Good choice. Alright, see you later.” Sapnap flops back down on the couch to continue watching football. Dream kicks off his shoes before going into the spare bedroom that he’d converted into his painting space. There’s not much natural light, and it’s a bit tight, but it works well enough. In the middle of the room is an easel, on which stands his in-progress painting. His cat, Patches, is curled up next to it on the floor.
Dream walks over, bends down to give Patches a pat on the head, then straightens and inspects the painting. The canvas is covered with strokes of red, yellow, and black. Like his other painting, it’s inspired by the colors he’d seen when hearing certain sounds. The first one had been about wind chimes, while this one is inspired by traffic.
He puts on his apron and picks up his palette and brush. Then, he plays a clip of traffic on his phone. Instantly, the colors burst to life in his mind. He watches them for a moment, and when the clip ends, he begins to paint. The familiar movements soothe him and help take his mind off the events of today. Painting is by far his favorite pastime, and the moments when he’s putting his brush to an easel are the moments where he feels happiest, apart from hanging out with his friends.
He paints until about 6 PM, at which time he stops for the day and goes to eat dinner with Sapnap. After that, they watch a cheesy romance movie and play Uno. At around 10, when Dream’s eyelids have begun to grow heavy, he bids goodnight to Sapnap and wanders into their shared bedroom. He changes into his pajamas, flops onto his bed, and quickly falls asleep.
---
As soon as Techno gets into his car, he begins to regret everything he’d just done.
Why, oh why, did he ask out some guy he doesn’t even know? It’s the first day of the semester and he’s asked someone out on a date. He’s gone 21 years without doing anything remotely romantic- why has that changed now? And with a random person, nonetheless!
He was pretty, Techno’s brain whispers. Really pretty. What else were you supposed to do?
Techno scowls, hating that his brain is right. The guy- Dream- had been extremely pretty, with his fluffy blonde hair and gorgeous green eyes. Techno’s stupid bisexual heart has still not calmed down from the effects of those viridescent irises looking into his own.
Shaking his head, he starts his engine and begins to drive back to his apartment. He shares it with his twin brother, Wilbur- they’d decided to go to the same college in order to stick together. Wilbur is a pain to be around most of the time, but Techno would much rather share an apartment with the brunette than some random person he doesn’t know.
He quickly reaches the apartment and parks in the street. Using his key, he lets himself in, making sure to lock the door behind him. He’s greeted by the sound of guitar playing. It leads him into the bedroom, where Wilbur is sitting on his bed and playing his guitar.
“Hey, Techno.” Wilbur stops plucking the strings and looks up. “How were your classes?”
“Good. My professor already assigned me a writin’ prompt, so that’s fun.”
“Your fault for choosing creative writing as your major. Us music majors get to play our instruments all day.”
“Never have I wanted to bash you with your guitar more,” Techno grumbles. He gently cuffs his brother upside the head and sits down on his own bed. “So, uh, I also did somethin’ very dumb today.”
“Oh boy,” Wilbur says. “What is it?”
Techno explains everything, albeit with a bit of trepidation because Wilbur can never be fully trusted with confidential information. When he’s done, the brunette stares at him for a good minute. Then, Wilbur bursts out laughing.
“What?” Techno snaps. “What did I do?”
“Oh, Techno, that’s so funny,” Wilbur gasps. “You- you just asked out someone you don’t know because they’re hot! You of all people!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Techno grumbles.
“It’s just that you’re not very romantic, Techno.”
“I know that. Maybe he won’t see it as a date.” Techno very much hopes that that will be true. He’s not confident in his abilities to carry out a romantic date. Also, he’s pretty sure that he might die from embarrasment long before Saturday comes.
“I doubt it. Coffee shops are very much romantic. You say his name is Dream?”
“Yeah.”
Wilbur frowns thoughtfully. “Dream, Dream. I feel like I’ve heard that name before.” His eyes light up. “Oh, I know! Is his hair blonde?”
“Yeah,” Techno says again.
“Oh my god, Techno, you’ve just asked out a famous person!”
“Have I?”
“Sort of.” Wilbur whips out his phone and frantically types something in before holding it out. Techno takes it and scans the web page. It reads: Dream Wastake is an American painter. He has synesthesia and utilizes it in his art style. His first and only painting so far, named ‘Wind Chimes’, sold for 5000 USD.
“Wow,” Techno murmurs. So Dream is a painter who’s famous enough to have his own web page. He’s not quite sure what to make of that information other than that it somehow makes the blonde even more attractive. He briefly wonders what kind of synesthesia Dream has. Maybe he’ll find out this Saturday, if he survives until then.
“Yeah,” Wilbur says. “That’s a lot of money for a college student.”
“What do I do, Wilbur?” Techno falls back on his mattress. “I don’t know how to do dates!”
Wilbur shrugs unhelpfully. “Just make small talk. Crack some jokes. Make him laugh.”
“What if I don’t want to date him?’
Wilbur shoots Techno a deadpan look. “Do you really believe that?”
“I hate you,” Techno grumbles. It’s annoying how Wilbur is, in a way, right. Techno doesn’t want to rush into dating a person he barely knows, but he can’t deny that Dream is very pretty, interesting, and might be nice to date. He also can’t deny that he really, really wants to get to know the blonde better.
“Guess I’ll go,” Techno sighs. He sits up. “What should I wear?”
“What you usually do. You might be emotionally constipated, Techno, but you do have a nice aesthetic.”
“Gee, thanks, Wilbur.”
“You’re welcome, my dear Techno-” Wilbur is cut off by a pillow smacking him in the face. “Okay okay, I get it. I’ll just go back to playing my guitar.”
“Please do.”
---
On Saturday, Dream dons a emerald sweater and black jeans. After searching up the location on Google, he hops on his bike and travels to the coffee shop. It’s a quaint little building, with large windows to let in sunlight. He enters, immediately spots Techno sitting at one of the tables, and goes over to join the pinkette.
“Hallo,” Techno greets. He’s wearing a white button-up shirt and jeans, with his hair tied up in a bun. To top it all off, there’s a pair of glasses perched on his nose, making him look even hotter than before. And, of course, there’s his voice- his impossibly deep voice that fills Dream’s mind with swirls of azure blue and periwinkle and every shade in between.
Trying not to blush, Dream takes a seat across from Techno. “Hello. How are you?”
“Good. You?”
“I’m great.”
There’s a moment of awkward silence. Finally, Techno breaks it by saying, “Not to sound creepy, but I searched you up online. You’re a painter?”
“Yeah,” Dream replies. The blue dances through his mind, gorgeous and mesmerizing. “My major is fine arts.”
“If you don’t mind me askin’, what kind of synesthesia do you have?”
Dream hums. “When I hear sounds, I also see colors. My ‘Wind Chimes’ painting was based off what I saw when I heard the wind chimes on my mother’s porch.”
“It’s a very beautiful paintin’.”
“You looked it up?” Dream’s mind briefly short circuits at the fact that Techno searched up his painting.
“Well, yeah.” Techno’s cheek turn faintly pink. “Like I said, it’s really pretty.”
“I suppose. I never thought that orange and silver mixed well together, but here we are.”
Techno chuckles, and oh. Dream stiffens as navy blue, as deep as the night sky, rushes into his mind. He usually doesn’t like dark colors, but this one… this one might as well be the most beautiful shade of blue he’s ever seen. It’s smooth and rich, and he instantly wants to find a paint of its color so he can coat his room in it.
“What’s wrong?” Dream snaps back to attention at the concern in Techno’s voice. The navy disappears, replaced by the swirling blues. He blinks a few times and focuses on Techno. The pinkette’s expression is worried.
“Oh, sorry,” Dream hurriedly says. “I just saw colors.”
Techno’s expression clears. “Ah, okay. What was it?”
“The bell on the door,” Dream lies. “It was golden.”
“That reminds me. What do you want to drink?”
“Um…” Dream twists around to look at the menu. “I’ll have the black tea. I can pay as well.”
Techno waves him off. “Nah, I’m payin'. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be right back.” He stands up and goes over to the counter to order. A few minutes later, he returns with a cup of tea in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other.
“Thank you,” Dream says as he gratefully accepts his tea. “Oh, and I forgot to ask you. What’s your major?”
“Creative writin’. I’ve already got a ton of work for it.” Techno shakes his head. “I’ll have the skill to become an author, but at what cost?”
Dream giggles. “Aw, c’mon, it can’t be that bad.”
“Dream, you have not met my professor. She’s the strictest person I’ve ever had the misfortune of being in a class with.”
“Well, I’ve heard from my friend that the computer science professor is really mean.”
“I don’t doubt it. Computer professors are always mean.”
Dream giggles again. For the next 2 hours, he and Techno talk about various topics, from college life to cats versus dogs (Dream is a cat person, while Techno is firmly on team dog). Techno is such a nice person to talk to, from his dry humor to his beautiful (in more ways than one) voice that Dream barely registers the passing of time. It’s only when he glances absentmindedly at his watch and sees ‘6:48’ does he realize how much time has passed.
“I should probably get going,” Dream says. “Sap will want me to come back to the apartment for dinner.”
“Sure,” Techno replies easily. “Would you like to do this again?”
Dream blushes and smiles as the blue continues to swirl around. “I’d love that. Same time, same place next week?”
“Yep, that works for me. See you, Dream.”
“Bye, Techno.”
---
One Friday evening, Techno is driving to Dream’s apartment. A week before, during their 5th ‘coffee outing’ (Techno still isn’t sure whether those count as a date or not), the blonde had invited him over to have dinner and watch a movie. Of course, Techno had agreed because, well, it’s Dream. He’d have to be an idiot to refuse an invitation from Dream.
He parks his car and hops out. After a bit of looking around, he locates the correct apartment and knocks on the door. A moment later, it’s answered by a guy with black hair and blazing orange eyes.
“Uh, hallo,” Techno says, startled by the appearance of someone who’s definitely not Dream.
“Are you Techno?” the guy asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah. Who are you?”
“I’m Sapnap, Dream’s friend and roommate. Don’t worry, I’ll be leaving soon. Dream’s painting right now, but you can go get him. He’s in the room down there.”
Sapnap steps aside to let Techno in and points down a hallway.
“Thanks.” Techno enters the apartment. He kicks off his shoes and cautiously makes his way down the hallway. It ends in a door that’s slightly ajar. He carefully pushes it open all the way and enters.
The room very clearly belongs to an artist. Cans of paint line the wall, and there are splatters of paint all over the floor. There’s a painting standing in the windowsill, as if on display. And in the middle of the room, standing in front of an easel and holding a palette and paintbrush, is Dream.
The blonde snaps his head towards the door as Techno enters. “Oh, hi, Techno,” he greets hastily. He sets his palette and brush down and shuffles over a bit so that his body is hiding the canvas on the easel. “Come on in.”
“Um, okay.” Techno takes a few steps into the room and gazes around. His eyes are drawn to the painting in the window, and he points at it. “Is that one finished?”
Dream nods. “Yeah. It’s called ‘Traffic’. I’m trying to sell it right now.”
“It’s beautiful.” Techno leans closer and stares at the mix of red, yellow, and black. “Is this what you see when you hear traffic?”
“Well, technically it’s what I see when I hear car horns, but that’s traffic in a nutshell anyway.”
Techno lets out a snort of laughter. “Yeah, it is.” He almost misses the way Dream tenses- key word being ‘almost’. Deciding to ignore that for now, he moves towards the easel and promptly freezes.
His own face stares back at him from the canvas, eyes sharp behind a pair of glasses and lips curled into a small smile. It’s set on a navy background with swirls of other shades of blue and white specks. The whole thing is unbelievably detailed, from the shading to his facial features. Dream had even gotten the small dimple on his right cheek.
Techno feels like the air has been sucked out of him. Dream painted him. Dream painted him, and it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen- apart from its artist, of course. Tentatively, he steps forward to admire it better. “What…”
“I’m sorry!” Dream squeaks. “I know it’s creepy. I usually don’t paint portraits, but I just couldn’t help myself. I’ll throw it away right now if you w-”
“No,” Techno says quickly, cutting the blonde off. “No, I- I like it.” He glances sideways at Dream, whose eyes are wide with disbelief.
“You… like it?” Dream whispers, shock evident in his tone.
“Of course I do,” Techno says, smiling softly. “How are you so good at paintin’?”
Dream laughs breathlessly. “Practice, I suppose. You’re pretty hard to paint.”
“All the more impressive, then.” Techno steps closer and inspects the background of the painting. “What’s with all the blue?”
“Oh, that.” Dream looks away, his cheeks flushed a dark red. “The navy is what I see when you laugh, and the swirls are your voice. Well, close to them, anyway. No paint can do you justice.” He turns back to Techno. “Your voice and your laugh… they’re the prettiest things I’ve ever seen.”
Techno’s breath hitches. He watches as Dream comes closer, blonde lashes fluttering delicately and green eyes sparkling. He very badly wants to reach out and feel Dream’s fluffy hair, or maybe trace the freckles on the blonde’s cheeks.
Dream stops a few inches away from Techno. They’re so close that Techno can count every brown dot on Dream’s beautiful face. The blonde’s lips, plump and pink, taunt him, begging to be kissed.
“Go on,” Dream murmurs.
So Techno does. He leans down and presses his lips to Dream’s. They’re soft and warm and every bit as perfect as he’d imagined. When he pulls away, after several long moments, his lips continue to tingle with the feeling of the blonde’s.
Dream blows out a shaky breath. “That was…”
“Fun,” Techno supplies.
“No, you idiot,” Dream giggles. “It was nice, though.” He smiles shyly. “You know, I painted your portrait so I could see you and your laugh every day.”
“Well, now you’ll be able to do so without the paintin’, because I’m not leavin’ anytime soon,” Techno says. “Keep the portrait, though. I like it.”
“Okay,” Dream agrees. He reaches down and entwines his fingers with Techno’s. “Should we go get some dinner? I was thinking of Chinese food.”
Techno smirks. “I mean, I can think of somethin’ tastier.”
“Techno!” Dream exclaims, blushing. The blonde gently whacks him on the arm. “What if Sapnap can hear?”
“He said he was going to leave.”
“I’m still here!” Sapnap’s voice yells from down the hallway. “Did you really think I was going to leave you two alone?”
“Oh my god.” Dream releases Techno’s hand to slap his own forehead. “This is so embarrassing. Sap, please leave,” he calls.
“I will when you two come out of that room!”
Techno chuckles and reentwines his and Dream’s fingers. “Come on, let’s go get some food.”
“Okay,” Dream says happily. Hand in hand, they walk out of the room and into a very lovely-looking future.