Concordia: Dreamnoblade Oneshots and Songfics

Roki

Dream doesn't know when the stench of cheap alcohol, the sound of rough guitar riffs and sight of the barely lit stage started becoming home. Maybe it was when he was twelve years old, attention drawn to the neon signs of nightclubs and the muffled music coming from inside that was audible even from the inside of his family's car as they pass it by. Maybe it was when he was sixteen years old, picking up an electric guitar for the first time and finally turning the incessant abstract nonsense in his head into lyrics that speak of teenage angst and invasive doubtful thoughts. Maybe it was when he was he was eighteen years old, coughing through the burn in his throat after his first swig of... something at a college party. Regardless, he was now twenty-one years old and at peace with the heavy metal ringing in his ears and the constant chatter from the tables around him, leaning back in his seat as he absentmindedly runs his fingertips over the neck of his own instrument.

C'mon, now we're makin' good progress

You writing a good song? We gonna get mobilizing?

He glances to his side through half-lidded eyes, taking in the visage of his partner despite having known each other for years at this point. It's not like he ever got tired of looking at his face, anyway. He had met Techno at around the same time he started this whole journey, back when the only time he really had to himself was staying late in his classroom after school ended. It was their little secret, it always was and always will be. Dream hid his more intense and personal songs in the last pages of school notebooks, sometimes afraid of the poison dripping off his mouth and staining the sheets with the greens of envy and the reds of rage and the blacks of despair. Techno lost his frustrations in the dull ache of fingers frantically sliding across strings and the gritty feedback of old speakers, letting his rough edges show in the way that the elegance of fencing and violin playing never truly allowed. It was always just them, behind locked doors and thick walls exploring music until the sun started to hide behind the horizon and painted the blue sky orange.

"You have a reputation, but you're not all that popular, so things are a bit tough, huh?"

It isn't entirely clear what pushed them both to be so close. It could've been Dream's desire for escapism or Techno's need for a break from the expectations imposed on him, but either way they've grown to be the closest of friends. Well, 'friends' is a rather broad term, really. They're certainly something more, something more primal and raw and beyond the general boundaries of a reasonable platonic relationship, but they haven't put a name to it yet. It's not like anyone knew, anyway, so there was no need to slap a label on what they were. So long as it's just them, so long as it's something between them, it doesn't necessarily matter what it is.

Dream sighs out abruptly, the memories running through his mind and images flashing at the back of his eyelids making him far more nostalgic than he had mentally prepared himself to be. His hand reaches out for the half-full glass of alcohol sitting at the table, about to take a sip but then it's unceremoniously plucked out of his fingers. His eyes snap open, glaring at a pair of crimson ones as a complaint builds up in his throat.

Say what you mean, anonymous icon

Won't show who you really are, live-action icon

"I hate to see pretty lips drunk on budget beer." Techno drawls nonchalantly, before putting the rim to his lips and tipping his head back to empty the glass himself. Dream doesn't hide how he stares at the expanse of his neck as he gulps it down, doesn't hide how his gaze rakes over defined collarbones in the low lighting.

"I wouldn't look in the mirror if I were you, then." Dream rolls his eyes and bites back, the back and forth banter somehow even more familiar to him than the way taut strings dig into his fingers.

Grow up and lose the self-consciousness, boy

"You flirt back." Techno sets the glass down and puts his arm around the back of the chair Dream is leaning back on, putting his face close enough for the other to feel his hot breath on the tip of his ear. "I like it."

"Only with the ones that are worth it." Dream shifts in his seat, turning to the side so that he's facing Techno completely, reveling at the view just before his eyes. Techno is lucky he's hot, otherwise Dream would find the situation a lot more annoying and bothersome.

I'm gonna level with you, no matter how clever or sly you are

That makeup's gonna fade away after ten years

"You're really going to do this, Dream?" Techno mutters under his breath, but even through the loud music Dream is able to hear it. It's almost like the world around them melts into nothing whenever they're like this, and neither of them can find it in them to mind. "Right when we're about to be called up there?"

"You started it, Tech. It's only right if you finish it." Dream lifts a hand to tug at Techno's collar, pulling him closer so that their noses are touching and their lips are just a temptation away. It would be so easy, really, for him to close the distance and reclaim Techno as his. However, he doesn't really feel like moving so he'll have to leave that to Techno.

"Perhaps." Techno whispers, a hand coming up to rest at the back of Dream's neck and guide him.

We ain't dying

Neither of us are!

Alcohol is somehow sweeter when he's tasting it from Techno's mouth, somehow more dizzying and intoxicating when he's licking it off his tongue. His fingers are running through long pink hair, pulling at it ever so slightly to elicit a groan from Techno. Dream smiles into the kiss, canines peeking out to nip teasingly at swollen lips. Like all things when it comes to Techno, it's comforting, it's natural, and it feels like home. Forever seems to have passed by the time they finally part, cheeks flushed and breaths heavy and slow in tandem with the closing notes of the songs playing from the speakers. Techno looks at him through lidded eyes and whispers just one last thing as he looks at the stage.

"That's our cue."

Roki-roki-rockin'-rock'n'roll

The strumming of the electric guitar

Don't stop! Don't stop!

Dream wheezes out a laugh and shoves him off lightheartedly, shaking his head at the grin on the other's face as he picks up his guitar and starts walking towards the stairs. He puts the guitar strap over himself, smoothing out the creases of his hoodie while he waits for the other to finally catch up to him. While the host is introducing them, he fixes Techno's collar and tucks stray strands of hair behind his ear with a fond smile. Familiar nervous excitement courses through his veins and thrums beneath the surface of his skin just seconds before the first notes to their first song for the night, and he loves how it just never gets old.

And if he and Techno share knowing looks while performing songs that speak of love, then that's for only them to know.

C'mon, now, let me see you

Let it all out

Roki-roki-rockin'-rock'n'roll