Dreamnoblade one shots for funsies

Prison makes you touch starved

Dream sighed as he dropped the quill he had been holding, tilting back his head so it lightly thumped the obsidian walls. As he did, Techno noticed, looking back from the cascade of lava he’d been standing at while trying to cook their potatoes. “Done already?”

Weakly, Dream opened his eyes, but failed to glare at him. “Can’t I take a break?” Techno simply shrugged.

For a few minutes, Dream rested, his scrawny body familiarly uncomfortable against the black stone and his left hand subconsciously gripping the fabric around his right elbow. All he could hear was the low bubbling of lava and Techno’s infrequent hums of dissatisfaction. The promised warmth teased him from across the room and gradually he felt his breathing get faster as he got lost in his thoughts.

“Welp, I’m hungry, you?” Techno blurted out, distracting him.

He was always hungry lately, not entirely because Sam didn’t give him quite enough food, so he was pretty good at annoying his frustrated stomach. But eating would be a good idea. “Yeah, did you manage to cook them?”

A slight snarl came from Techno as he walked over, sitting just far away enough to be respectful. “No. Lava doesn’t radiate heat as well as fire does, there was way too much heat over way too little of an area. It’ll probably take an entire day to cook thoroughly.”

Taking a potato from the pile, Dream almost flinched. They were hot to the touch and the skin was charred and flaking off. The heat was hopeful, but once he bit into one, it was as cold and as hard as they usually were. Shivers of disgust ran through him. Stupid manipulative potatoes.

“Told you.” Techno commented, making Dream suddenly remember that he didn’t have his mask on. He automatically reached up to start fidgeting with his cheek.

Once Techno finished his meal, while Dream was still nibbling on his, he reached over to grab the unfinished book that Dream had left in his lap. Quickly scanning through it, pausing a few times to squint closer, he exclaimed, “Looks great! Obviously just a start, but coming along nicely!”

Glancing over, Dream saw that Techno was giving him a wide, honest smile, the same one he’d seen directed towards Phil. Then he gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder, put the book down, and went over to their chest. For some reason, Dream felt like crying. Ignoring it, he finished his food and went back to writing.

For a while they wrote in peace, Dream in his corner and Techno while walking around the room muttering to himself. His brain got burnt out eventually when Dream could no longer force himself to think too hardly, so he laid down on his back, silently communicating that he was going to sleep. As he stared cross eyed at the ceiling, he thought about what he always thought about, the power he lost, the friends he lost, the life he lost, everything. Emotions bubbled up and he started gripping his garish orange jumpsuit as a weak attempt to relieve them. It didn’t help, it never helped.

“Goodnight roomie.” Techno said, putting his cape down as a makeshift mattress before laying on top of it.

“Night.” Dream mumbled, his focus shifted. Ever since Tommy got out, he’d felt increasingly lonelier. It’s not like the two got along, but having someone there for the first time and then suddenly losing them had shocked him into realizing just how lonely he was. He’d felt empty, but now Techno was here.

Techno had been so confident, so friendly, so positive, it’s exactly what he’d wanted for so long. But he still felt empty. Mindlessly, he gazed at the fur collar being used as a pillow, the fancy silk shirt, the rolls of soft fat beneath it. Ever since he’d arrived, Techno had made him feel a little safer. “Can we cuddle?” Dream blurted out, quietly hoping he was asleep.

“Huh?” Techno looked at him, wide awake.

“Just... can I just hug you, it’s been hard to fall asleep and... I won’t be weird, you’ll forget I’m there...”

Frantically, Dream rambled on, but in the corner of his eye he saw Techno’s expression soften. “Sure, go ahead.”

Dream practically teleported over, scrambling faster than his mind could process, barreling into his cell mate. With strength he didn’t know he still had, he assertively spooned him, squeezing his arms tight around Techno’s chest and his left leg around Techno’s hip bone. Scraggly hair was in his face, but he didn’t care, Techno was snuggly and so, so warm. As he breathed in the smell of freshly cooked potatoes, he shed a few tears of relief and fell asleep.

The next night, Dream laid down in his usual corner, too embarrassed to talk about the cuddling. Instead, Techno brought it up, calmly offering and already in position to be the little spoon again. He even left room on his cape. Dream, of course, accepted.

As he was writing one day, Dream started to stare into the floor. Quackity was coming back the next day and he was terrified. What would happen? What would Techno do? What would Quackity do? He had no clue, and that in itself sent shivers down his spine. Cuddling with Techno helped his mental state, but it wouldn’t help this time, he could tell.

As he had his existential crisis, he thought back to when he was dating George. Back then, George was the only thing that mattered, the only thing he cared about. The romantic feelings they shared blocked out everything, made everything else inconsequential. Life would be okay as long as he had his boyfriend. He wanted that feeling back. And as he thought more about it, he needed that feeling back.

Glancing up, Techno was sitting down across the room, bored as he stared at the potatoes he’d set down next to the wall of lava, occasionally writing something in his book. “Techno. I need to make out with someone.”

This instantly drew his attention. “What are you talking about.” He stated, looking at him with confused concern.

“Please, I just... I’m going crazy from the stress... a distraction, I just need a distraction... and I’m sorry, but...” His voice trailed off as he desperately tried to explain his convoluted, messed up thoughts. “Please.” Just over a whisper, his last plea was the most vulnerable he’d ever been.

The cell turned deafeningly quiet. Seconds ticked by extremely slowly as both men sat in silence on opposite sides of the room. Dream’s heartbeat thundered in his ears until the distinctive click of Techno’s shoes reverberated around the room. Dream violently flinched as Techno took slow, careful steps towards him. He refused to look at him. This was a mistake, Techno was about to beat him for saying such a thing.

Instead, Techno’s deep, monotone voice softly called out from above him. “Okay.”

With wide, watery eyes, Dream looked up and locked eyes with Techno, who was meekly smiling and had one had extended to him. Placing the book to the side, Dream took his hand and stood up so their eyes were on the same level. His heart swelled as they gazed into each other, and with a thankful smile he dove forward.

Their lips clashed in a passionate dance, Dream automatically taking the lead as he explored Techno’s mouth, his chapped lips rough against the slightly softer ones he was kissing. It felt good, it felt so good, hormones racing through him to flush out the fatigue, their constant exchange of hot breath and spit a monument to their mutual trust. He’d gotten rusty, his lips and tongue sore from their lack of action, but it only made the experience more raw, more unrestrained, more violent.

Soon Techno’s back was shoved against the craggily wall and Dream was clutching at his hair. All the frustration and anger that had built up over 5 months was bursting out all at once. He even tasted a bit of blood from when he went feral on Techno’s lower lip.

Their make out session escalated for hours until Dream’s exhaustion finally started to catch up with him. They still went at it though, merely forceful rather than violent. Eventually Dream planted one last long, passionate kiss on Techno’s lips before collapsing into his arms, breathless from the experience. Techno effortlessly held him up, slightly flustered and worn out, but still plenty strong.

They ended up on the floor, Dream in Techno’s lap, being held close and safe in a soft, cushion-like embrace. When he recovered enough strength, Dream hugged him back. “Better?” Techno said, gentle as a mouse.

“Thank you.” Dream responded, invisible tears in his voice. “Thank you so much.”

He felt as Techno smiled sweetly into his hair. “You’re welcome.”