Dream don't like storms
909 words
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It was a stormy night. At about 5 pm, it had started raining. Cross thought it would be a light shower, a bit of rain that actually would go away.
It's been going for 2 hours.
The rain wasn't the nicest. It rained steadily hard, occasionally softening or going harder. It was like white noise to Cross now, just background noises he wished did not exist. It was terribly cold in the castle as the heaters broke the day before, and it was raining in November which just made everything ten times colder. Even Cross, who normally dressed up as if he was going to goddamn Antarctica, was curled under a blanket. He sat as close as possible to the fireplace, his eyes gazing into the embers of the flame.
As of right now, Nightmare and Killer were in Nightmare's room doing god knows what, Horror and Lust were asleep on a bean bag, Error was at Ink's house, and Dust was with Blue at Underswap. Cross was currently cuddling Dream, the two lying down on the couch. The thing is, raining was multiversal. If it was raining in Australia in one timeline, it's raining in Australia in every other timeline, unless something was preventing it.
Dream had come to Cross about 5 minutes into the storm. He was shaking and shivering. Dream hated storms. He associated them with the first fight Dream and Nightmare had as corrupted Nightmare, which made them more stressful than they already were. Not to mention the rumble of the thunder every few minutes and the flash of light that followed afterwards. At first they just sat on the couch. Cross had already offered a blanket to Dream, who gladly accepted it. Cross thought Dream looked cute in a hoodie and sweatpants, which Dream was wearing when he came in. He curled up in the blanket, sighing contentedly at the warm feeling. At first, Dream sat on the opposite end, thinking Cross might want some personal space, despite the thought of curling up with Cross sounded so nice though. Cross saw the yellow boy shiver under the blankets, flinching every time the thunder greeted them. Cross got an idea. He was cold, Dream was obviously antsy due to the storm, and they could both use a little relaxation. An attempt wouldn't hurt, right?
Cross slowly got up, shifting off his mountain of blanket. He gently took Dream's hand from under the blanket fort the other had created, both blushing as he did so, and slowly led Dream to him. Just, on his knees, on the couch, slowly guiding Dream to his side. After a few seconds, Dream was sitting shoulder to shoulder against Cross. They sat like this for a few moments, before Cross made the next move. He wrapped his arm around Dream's neck, slowly pushing it's way to Dream's lower back (aka his waist) and rotating him so that Dream's back was facing Cross, Cross wrapping his second arm around him while he did so. He pulled Dream to him, moving Dream, until Dream was laying right on top of Cross. Dream tensed before Cross pulled him closer, making their entire bodies press against each other, relaxing as he did so. Cross held him tightly but gently, closing his eyes as he bowed his head to bury itself into Dream's shoulder. Cross was like, 7 inches or so taller than Dream, after all. He used his magic to lift the blanket on top of both of them, rewrapping them in it. Cross had his right leg slightly bent up while his left leg stayed straight, flat against the cushions. Dream shifted so that he was leaning on both his side and the wall of the couch, hugging Cross's upper arm in a way that would still allow him to hug him.
Dream said nothing throughout this, his golden, but somehow muted blush being enough confirmation for the oreo.
Dream felt safe, secure even in the arms of Cross, despite Cross being one of the Multiverse's most notorious serial killers. Cross has long since abandoned murder, but his record hasn't exactly been wiped clean.
Neither had really said a word about anything since Dream came in, and that did not change. Cross focused on the silent breaths that Dream was taking. The flames were almost dead by now, the cold trying to give it closure, but Cross summoned a small portal leading sticks into the fire, enough to feed it until early morning. Dream felt so warm to Cross and Cross felt so warm to Dream. Cross checked the clock, straining to see the clock as the fire had been their only source of light. It was 8 pm. Cross normally slept by 9, but the weather and Dream and the fact that they were cuddling seemed to make his eyes droopy. He looked down at the golden boy, only to see him sleeping peacefully, breathing in slowly and evenly. The storm had somewhat died down, but was still audible.
The last thing Cross saw was Dream's face, before finally allowing slumber to take the drowsy soldier. He closed his eyes, and left to the wonders of his dreams.
Somehow, he knew he was going to sleep well.
And he did.
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i dont kow how i wrote about 875 words worth of cross and dream cuddling on the couch, but i have no regrets also this was heavily edited, sorry not sorry
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