Chapter Text
Several months later, under the dusk of sundown, shadows lurked ominously. Vague silhouettes flickered to life and vanished between the warm glow of lanterns. Snow crunched, barely audible above the murmuring fall of white precipitation.
Technoblade had a visitor.
Gloved hands landed on a metal knob, warm breath clouding in short puffs. A lock was broken with a sharp crack, alerting several foxes, who yipped softly in curiosity. Desperate whispers told them to quiet, but the huffing of a giant white bear told story to the fact it would have no avail.
Sheepishly, Dream waited in a cold entryway as heavy feet lumbered down creaking stairs.
Vermillion eyes stared into a white mask, and several seconds of silence passed. Eventually, their mutual comprehension was broken by a yawn.
"Sorry, ya woke me up. What'd'ya want?"
Dream spoke hesitantly, though there was no trace of sleep in his tone. "Leggings."
Technoblade raised his eyebrows and looked pointedly outside at the moonlit winter landscape. "Right now?"
A nod.
Technoblade sighed and beckoned him inside. Dream shut the door, swirls of snow following him and skidding to rest at his feet. He wasn't wearing armor aside from a heavy chest plate, perhaps courtesy of the fact his old leggings did have cum on them.
A tired pink-haired god led Dream through several rooms, each one carefully observed by the latter. Soft comments and compliments followed every new area, all ignored or acknowledged with a grunt.
"Your art is... Egotistical."
"Mhm."
"I like your fox."
"Yea."
"You have a lot of chests, you know?"
"Sure."
Dream gave him a blank look, realizing belatedly that his mask was still on. As they walked into the fourth room, Dream scoffed and laid his hand on Technoblade's arm.
The taller man stopped walking, not even giving Dream a glance.
With a sigh, Dream slid his fingers down a hard forearm.
"Come on, Technoblade. You know I'm not here for leggings."
A huff. "That's what ya said."
Poking his cheek with his tongue, Dream could feel himself getting more impatient. "I say a lot of things. I don't mean all of them."
That got a reaction, and Technoblade turned to him with a low growl. Fangs flashed in the dim lighting of the room, and the air grew warmer. "Ya think I don't know that? 'Consider me intrigued.' Lot a' good that whole intrigued thing does, huh?"
Dream regarded him curiously, head tilted. He was not at all perturbed by the sudden shift in attitude.
"Were you waiting on me?"
"I don't wait on anyone," Technoblade snarled, "but the last I checked, five months is a little more 'an enough time to get yer shit together."
A sly smile, a cocky crook of an eyebrow- all hidden by white porcelain. "You were waiting on me."
Growling, Technoblade reached into his inventory satchel and tossed Dream an unenchanted pair of Netherite leggings. "Take your fuckin' leggin's and get out."
Dream paused, slightly shocked that Technoblade had carried the leggings with him, presumably since the comment had been made. It spoke volumes to just how eager Technoblade had been for the return of the shorter.
"I said get out."
"I don't think you want me to leave," Dream noted, head tilted at a curious angle. He watched as rough hands balled into fists. "I think you want me more than you're willing to let on."
It was funny, the things lust did to people. For Dream, it made him reckless, stupid even. For Technoblade, it only seemed to enhance some primal urge to fight, because, within seconds, Dream was pinned to the wall by his neck, hot breath fanning across his face dangerously.
"I'm gonna need ya to shut the fuck up, Dream. Forget all your talk of killin' everyone I love, I'll kill you. "
Laughter, golden and dripping with dark humor, fell off chapped lips. "I don't think so. You may be able to beat me on even ground, but I have the advantage."
Hatred glowed in ruby irises. Lips peeled back to reveal sharp teeth, sharp enough to tear even flesh. "How so?"
Dream had never done anything with less hesitation in his entire life. Peeling off his gloves and throwing them to the floor, he shoved his hand into brown trousers. Hastily working past a pair of boxers, he grabbed a half-hard dick.
The hiss that flew out of Technoblade was another that Dream locked away in his head for cold nights. The taller's grip tightened on the blonde's neck, but it did nothing to deter the eager pumping.
"I told ya-" A puff of breath washed across Dream's face- "that I'd cook for ya."
"How long have you been thinking about me?"
Technoblade squeezed, watching ruthlessly as Dream winced under his hold. "Ever since ya sucked me off. Your fuckin' mouth haunts me."
"Yeah?" Dream wheezed, running his thumb over the slit on the head of Technoblade's cock. Pre-cum guided his motions, making the slide easier as he continued to work the man to full hardness. "I..." An attempted breath, "can do more... than just that."
"Ya can, can ya?" The pressure on Dream's neck vanished, and his vision took a moment to cease swimming. Technoblade crossed his arms, forcefully yanking his thin off-white shirt over his head and throwing it to the floor. "Prove it."
A blur, hazy and dull with deoxidation, occupied the next couple of minutes. Dream's memories would forever replay bruising palms, hot skin, and sharp teeth, though Technoblade's told story of pathetic whines, weak scrambling, and impatient fingers. Sheets, cool from exposure to air, were shoved off the bed entirely, pillows tossed haphazardly as Technoblade pressed Dream to his mattress.
Dream came back to himself about the time Technoblade was mouthing along his chest, free of both his chest plate and shirt. Panic was a brief, fleeting, and wholly unimportant concept compared to the wet presence of Technoblade's mouth. Lips wrapped around Dream's nipple, and he arched, gasping with breath he didn't have.
"I can't stop thinkin' about ya," Technoblade grunted, pushing roughly against hips that desperately bucked up. "Your mouth, your hands, your eyes..." Calloused fingers, without finesse, unclipped the white mask still secured to Dream's face despite the lack of any other clothing. Red blush roared in Technoblade's vision, paired with full lips and unfocused green irises. "Ya drive me crazy, Dream. This mask is a fuckin' waste."
In an instant, porcelain dust floated through the air, courtesy of the cracked mask gripped in Technoblade's hands. Two even halves glinted in the moonlight spilling from a high window, and Dream struggled to breathe, though Technoblade had let go of his neck long ago.
No one aside from Technoblade had ever touched his mask before, let alone tried to break it.
Shock pulled his eyebrows up and mouth open, clarity reentering his gaze briefly. Dream had the decency to mumble, "You have to replace that," before pushing himself up onto a hand and using the other to restlessly guide Technoblade to his lips.
Hot air fanned across his face momentarily, and then Dream knew only Technoblade's tongue in his mouth and eager teeth. They kissed unlike either had ever kissed before, violent and full and desperate , like they both knew it was wrong but neither cared. Technoblade's body draped across Dream's, their cocks dangerously close to touching where they pressed against the hard planes of their abdomens. With infinite time to spare they stayed, impatiently touching but coming back, over and over, to slot their lips together. Spit welled in the gaps they left, a harsh ray of dawn sunlight slipping through a window pane far above their heads but not illuminating the dark lust shrouding the two like fog.
"Thought ya didn't kiss people," Technoblade grunted when they separated for a moment. A shrug lifted Dream's shoulders, rustling the sheets below.
"I don't."
Something scalding and possessive flared to life inside ruby irises. "Jus' for me? Ya only like it when my tongue is in your mouth?"
Just as carnally territorial, Dream whispered, "Just you."
Without care of being seen as desperate, Technoblade pulled Dream's legs apart, slotting himself between tense thighs. The shorter gladly complied, groaning as their dicks touched briefly against Dream's stomach.
A finger prodded against pink lips, and blonde eyebrows rose. Compliantly, however, Dream opened his mouth and diligently coated the digit in spit. When Technoblade deemed it wet enough, he pulled it out as Dream frowned.
"Don't you have lube?"
"I do. Ya jus' like to suck things, and I didn't wanna get up."
Dream rolled his eyes. Trailing his finger down, Technoblade pressed his finger against Dream's rim at the same time he pressed his lips to the younger's neck. A groan filtered out of swollen lips, blush staking claim across more of the shorter's torso as Technoblade sunk his finger further, pushing past the tight ring of muscle.
"Fuck, you have big fingers," Dream complained, slightly squirming as he tried to adjust. A cruel laugh left Technoblade's throat as he pressed further without mercy. Dream hissed. "I'll kill you."
Technoblade grunted, not without humor. "Good luck wi' that."
"I'll cut off your dick."
Garnet eyes rolled, and another finger slid in next to the first as Dream slowly started to open up. "No, ya won't. Ya want me to stick it in ya too bad."
Hatred spilled from green irises, but just below it was a thin sheen of something softer, something akin to fondness and harbored desire. Feelings that Dream felt deep in the bottom of his chest but would rather die than voice.
Feelings overshadowed by the raw sensation that was Technoblade sliding a third finger in next to the first two with little to no regard for the blonde’s pain.
“Fuck, Technoblade,” Dream snarled, hips rocking back to try and avoid the stretch. The older man ignored him, using a large, scarred palm to hold Dream in place. The three digits twisted in unison, and the blonde nearly yelped, body tensing in a minor effort to evacuate. “That fucking hurts!”
“Ya haven’t told me to stop,” the man said flatly, curling his fingers and watching as Dream gritted his teeth against a whine, spine arching away. Green glittered like shattered emeralds, but Dream said nothing, and Technoblade sneered.
"I've hit ya one too many times with a sword jus' to be told ya don't like pain. Like hell ya don't." Technoblade pressed against Dream's prostate, seeming intent on proving his point, earning a loud moan even as the shorter squirmed. "Should I go ahead and sit ya on my cock? Jus' like this, half-stretched and hurtin'?"
His voice was dead serious, but Dream could hear the question lurking under the words. Technoblade was genuinely asking, and for some reason this in itself made Dream hesitate. However, the blonde slowly said, "No." Maybe later, but not today, because today he wanted to take Technoblade the best he possibly could.
Rumbling sounded deep in Technoblade's throat, but he diligently continued to pump three fingers in and out of Dream, taking initiative to restart their kiss. Warm spit strung between their lips, and they both gradually lost themselves to the morning dawn and each other. As minutes ticked by, Dream became more pliant, relaxing more and more in the presence of his sworn rival. His throat spilled sounds easier, and Technoblade reacted more candidly, not hiding how affected he was by the blonde.
Then something shifted. Technoblade pulled his fingers out, nudging Dream away for a moment. Whining prefaced compliance, but Dream backed off, waiting impatiently as Technoblade half-leaned out of bed and blindly rummaged around in a drawer nearby. When he sat back, a small glass bottle was in his palm, and Dream felt skittering restlessness run up his spine.
"Lay down," Technoblade huffed. Dream did as he was told, shoulders flush with the sheeted mattress. The taller of the two globbed a decent amount of the lube onto his fingers, rubbing to warm it up, which Dream was fondly surprised by. Smearing it across the blonde's rim, Technoblade fucked the lube in with two fingers, the stretch nearly non-existent. As he did, Dream attempted to work himself down on the hand, teeth gritted with anticipation and sheer lust.
Laughing shortly, Technoblade removed his fingers. "Good?"
"So good," Dream instantly responded, a moan edging the words. "Please, good god, please hurry."
Technoblade's nose wrinkled slightly. "I don't know I feel about ya sayin' 'good god,' kinda sounds like you're praisin' me."
The glare Dream shot at him had Technoblade chuckling dangerously. "Shut up and put your dick inside of me. "
"Yes, Dream," the taller mocked, but the joke fell half-flat as he pushed Dream's legs further open. The sight was sinuous and something Technoblade had been picturing for five months; Dream laid out and waiting for him, mask off and preferably thrown out the window (breaking it was close enough). Along with a slick hole, hard dick, and precome glistening across his abdomen, Dream was also flushed from the tips of his ears to the tops of his shoulders. Saliva dried in a small string on the corner of his mouth, his green eyes were half-lidded and wanton, and his lips were popped open as he gasped in air.
He was everything Technoblade had been waiting for: for five months.
"Whenever you're done eye-fucking me," Dream said, annoyed, "can you actually fuck me, because I swear Technoblade, I am seconds from riding your dick myself."
"Don't know why you're usin' that as a threat," Technoblade grumbled, but he leaned down over Dream, lining himself up, "sounds jus' fine to me."
Whatever Dream was going to say was lost to a sudden moan as Technoblade pushed past his rim. Legs tensing, the blonde automatically dug his nails into Technoblade's back, clamping his mouth shut against a chorus of noises that begged to be freed. Pressing forward relentlessly, the blood god didn't stop until his cock was seated fully inside Dream, both men gasping- Dream with the overwhelming sensation, Technoblade with restraint.
" Fuck, fuck," seethed Dream, nails biting harder into his rival's skin. "You're so fucking big. "
The flicker of primal satisfaction that flared to life in Technoblade's chest produced a low rumble. "Told ya skippin' steps could be bad."
"We didn't. "
Danger underlined, "Next time."
Dream's reaction was glorious. His spine arched, his hips rocked, and his throat flexed with a sound that made Technoblade's cock spurt more precum. Dream could feel it inside of him, and he shuddered pleasantly.
"And there's going to be a next time," Technoblade snarled, lingering anger sweltering inside his garnet irises. He pulled out slightly just to thrust in again, and Dream ground his molars harshly against a moan. "I'm sick of waitin' on ya, Dream. Next time ya don't come back, I'll find ya."
Mimicking a phrase he'd heard repeated by the crows across the garden, Technoblade goaded, "'n' I'll fuck ya again, and I'll find ya again, and I'll fuck ya again. 'til you stop runnin'."
Viscerally, Dream reacted to his own threat thrown back into his face. His own dick spat liquid as his nails scratched deep lines into Technoblade's back, hard enough to draw blood. The taller snarled at the pain, snapping his hips impossibly further into his rival. Green irises rolled behind fluttering eyelids, gone in an instant.
Breathy, " fuck, " greedy, " more, " deep-toned, " dammit, " wordless groan. Technoblade pulled out to thrust forward, sending Dream rocking back on the bed. His fingers, which looked pathetically small next to the bulk of the man above him, fell down to grasp uselessly at the one remaining sheet. Blood scraped off his nails onto the pristine white.
They both saw crimson smear the sheet, and their eyes immediately snapped together. For a small handful of seconds, nothing happened, then Dream's lips slowly split into a wicked smile.
"Blood for the Blood God."
Technoblade began fucking the smaller man with abandon, hips pistoning cruelly in and out of his body. Sputtered syllables attempted to leave Dream's throat but died in the process, stringing together in a nonsensical train of pleasure. The hand still on Technoblade's back continued carving gouges in his skin. The wet sensation of gore prickled his spine, a few stray beads dripping down to the bed. It almost looked like they were fighting, bodies locked together yet still inflicting injury. The thought alone was enough to make Technoblade jerk his hips particularly hard, and Dream found himself wailing as the older's cock hit his prostate.
"Right there," Dream demanded, a certain amount of control still exuding from his voice even as a moan directly followed the words. " Fuck, Technoblade, you're going to break me."
Pink hair cascaded across broad shoulders as the taller shifted his angle, pressing against Dream's prostate with every thrust. His teeth glinted snow white in the morning haze as he bared them. "Finally. I've been tryin' for years."
Dream felt his own dick twitch as he thought about Technoblade wanting him during all of their spars, coming home and getting off still covered in bruises Dream had left behind with his axe. As the blonde's body once more shuddered with the force of his rival's movements, he threw his head back and let his neck arch up, the metallic tang of blood filling his mouth as he bit his tongue.
Immediately, as if drawn by nature, lips attached to the exposed skin directly above his carotid artery. Technoblade's teeth were sharp, Dream knew, and the thought came and went that the pink-haired god could quite literally tear out his throat with his cock still pumping in and out of Dream's body.
No such violence occurred, though canines did nip the surface with more care than necessary. A dark mark quickly bloomed under sucking pressure, then Technoblade was moving, purpling another area slightly higher up.
Dream lost himself somewhere between there and the moment when Technoblade reached down and grasped the blonde's cock in a massive fist. High and needy, a whine split the air, Dream clenching around Technoblade's dick as his own was worked toward an end. The man above him was quickly becoming erratic with his thrusts, lips parting and allowing deep huffs to pass through that Dream thought sounded a little like a twisted amalgamation of heaven and hell. Hot and godly.
"Come on," gruffed Technoblade, jerking Dream's cock faster. The shorter still had his head pressed into the mattress, eyes rolled half back and body tensed against the pleasure. "I haven't broken ya yet. Be a good whore an' cum when you're told."
Dream did. Ropes of white shot across his abdomen, painting Technoblade's palm sticky. The sight of Dream half-arched off the bed, moaning in broken syllables, sent Technoblade over the edge as well. He buried himself as deep as he could into his rival, body locked as he came in waves of unintelligible curses.
" God, " Dream pitched, breathless and fucked out as he squirmed against the sheets. "How can you possibly cum so much, fucking hell, 'm so full."
Chuckling drowsily, Technoblade lowered his forehead until it knocked against Dream's, connecting their lips messily. Slow gyrations pumped the cum in and out of the younger man, his body quivering from overstimulation.
Whining, Dream took a hand and pushed firmly at Technoblade's chest, forcing the taller to pull back. " Quit, " Dream half-moaned, loathing biting the edges of the words. "That- that fucking hurts, stop."
"No," Technoblade mumbled, garnet irises pinning his rival to the bed as much as his body. "Quit whinin' when I know ya like it."
Gritting his teeth, Dream couldn't even argue as his dick sluggishly responded, dribbling another white pearl against his stomach as it softened. "I hate you."
Technoblade didn't grace the shorter with a response, finally pulling out of the man and groaning as he flopped his body to the side. His bloody back hit the mattress, and he winced at the contact of the rough cloth and his bare wounds.
"You deserve that," Dream pointed out tiredly, letting his legs splay uselessly out in a more comfortable position. His chest was heaving, neck dotted in purple blotches, abdomen slathered in a rather nasty mess of fluids. He flinched upon the realization, propping himself up on an elbow and staring down at Technoblade, who had his eyes closed and was panting.
"I could kill you right now," Dream found himself saying, a sentence plucked randomly out of his wandering thoughts, "and you couldn't do anything about it."
Carmine eyes snapped open and latched onto emerald.
For seconds, they stayed. Silent, daring, defying.
Wordlessly, Dream leaned over and attached his lips to Technoblade's. The two melted like wax into each other, dawn glaring harshly into the rafters of the room, illuminating the strewn belongings. Half a porcelain mask here, a threaded white shirt there, forgotten Netherite leggings discarded next to a crown apparently knocked off a nightstand.
When Dream got up, it was not two minutes later. Technoblade huffed disagreement that they were already moving around, but rolled compliantly so Dream could get out of the bed. The blonde disappeared into the bathroom, where he found his hands shaking.
Ignoring it, he returned with a wet rag and helped clean as Technoblade stripped the blood-dripped sheets off the bed. From where Dream was standing, only a few of the claret dots were visible, yet the sight of the gore made skittering restlessness dance up the base of his spine.
When everything was done- sheet off, mess cleaned, clothes replaced- the two stood opposite each other, poised in tandem as if they truly were about to spar.
After several beats of silence, Dream hefted the Netherite armor that started this fight further into the crook of his arm for emphasis. Ruby eyes tracked the movement. "Thanks for the leggings."
"I owed ya," Technoblade responded gruffly. The words brought a tension that was quickly stirred as, offhandedly, the older man said, "Now ya owe me."
"How so?"
White gleam announced the presence of sharp canines bared. "One fuck doesn't make up for months o' waitin', Dream."
Dream faintly shuddered as Technoblade cruelly continued, "I expect a return. An' if ya don't… well. I think ya set your own expectations when ya talked to Tommy."
Lids half fallen to cover glimmering emeralds fluttered. Red raced abundant and carefree across Dream's cheeks and ears, spreading down to the pale pigment of his neck. His lips popped open in a shaking breath- he would be returning.
Soon.
However, their encounter had drawn to a close for the day, so Dream bowed a farewell and allowed himself to be whisked away by a fiery dawn and brisk arctic winds.
Two hundred blocks away, Dream looked back.
Technoblade stood on his porch, hands tucked neatly in the pockets of trousers Dream could vividly remember undoing with his own fingers just an hour before. When the god noticed the gaze of his rival, he lifted a hand in parting.
Dream waved back.
Never again would the two say goodbye. They would part to live their own days and wreak their own havoc, but at night they always wound up together under stars that scoffed at their intimacy. The breeze eventually found their secret in the wrong hands, and a disastrous turn of fate would spell the cohesive end of both of their stories.
Nevertheless, softly yipping foxes and surly polar bears provided a safe space for the both of them in the years leading up to their demise.
And Technoblade never did stray from that green-eyed man, who did much more than simply get on his knees for a god.