Concordia: Dreamnoblade Oneshots and Songfics

The Other Side

"Blood God."

"Nightmare."

Even the breeze seems to quiet down at the tense moment. They're on a rooftop in the middle of the night, with only the distant streetlights of the city below and the faraway twinkles of the stars above to illuminate them. Still, despite the low lighting and the masks covering their faces, familiar features don't escape alert eyes. Even though it had been a while, the remnants of love aren't so quick to become fleeting memories. They're still as potent as ever, still as vivid and fervid as if they had never even been dulled in the first place.

"You don't have to call me that. You know full well who I am." The one in the green hoodie speaks out first, a hand coming up to fiddle with the porcelain smiling mask covering his entire face. The air is thick with unbridled tension, and he almost wishes he never confronted him.

"Then extend that sentiment to me. I would like to think I'm not that forgettable." The one in the regal clothing scoffs and flips his loose braid over his shoulder, quickly unclasping the straps that hold the boar skull mask upright. Stray strands of pink hair frame crimson eyes and pale skin, gaze sharp and unreadable as it focuses on the other man.

"Touché, Techno, touché." Dream laughs softly as he finally pulls off his mask and reveals his face to his world. It's the same messy flaxen hair, the same wild chartreuse eyes that Techno had fallen in love with long ago. That Techno is still in love with, even. "How long has it been?"

"Well, Dream, we graduated from UA three years ago. And I haven't heard from you since then." There's something bitter in Techno's timbre, something unsavory and distasteful like a lump in his throat that is tough to swallow.

"It feels like it's been forever. Did you miss me, at least?" Dream asks, even if he knows the answer. He doesn't know what else to do with himself, doesn't know how to explain what he's been up to even if he's sure the other is smart enough to figure it out.

"Would it really have hurt to leave a message?" Techno's voice is strained, laced with underlying tones of pain and saudade. It's indicative of how he's been without Dream, of dreary days and sleepless nights spent in endless worry and panic. It's indicative of pangs of hurt and twinges of torment, of the dull ache of emptiness settling in his heart.

"Sorry, sorry. It isn't that simple. You know how it is."

Silence befalls them, and none of them are sure what exactly to do about it. Like always, Dream is the first one to do something about it. He walks up to where Techno is sitting at the edge of the rooftop and sits down next to him. The pinkette still doesn't move, just follows his movement with his eyes and turns to the side to face him properly. Slowly, tentatively, his hand comes up between them to settle on the blonde's own. His thumb runs over the callused skin gently; it's like he's feeling, searching for the tangible and undeniable proof that Dream's here right now. It's a familiar sensation, and one they had both longed for in the past few years.

"So." Dream starts, attempting to fill the awkward and empty air with something, anything. "How are things going, mister top hero?"

"In terms of fighting crime? Not too bothersome." Techno waves that off, nonchalant. It's like it's nothing special, nothing impressive. "In terms of press and media? Hell." He deadpans, voice monotone which makes Dream giggle. It's so contagious that it brings a smile to Techno's face, too.

"I mean, I can't exactly blame them. It's almost baffling just how much you've done in just three years, fresh out of high school too." Dream intertwines their fingers and squeezes a bit, making eye contact with a soft smile and an honest statement. "I'm proud of you, you know?"