DNF Oneshots (Dreamnotfound)

Protective

"Hey I'm home!" Dream shouts as he closes the front door. He waits for the normal cheery 'hello' to be shouted back at him, except nothing but the sound of a fan blowing cold air throughout the house comes back at him. He closes the front door all the way and locks it before limping a little to the kitchen.

    When he arrives he's welcomed by the pleasant smell of his husband's cooking, and of course, his husband. Dream can't help but smile as he watches his husband stir away at some sort of delicious soup and takes a seat at one of the bar stools at the kitchen island. He waits for his husband to turn around and probably scold him because he scared him, but as his husband turns around he has a sort of saddened look on his face. He places his hand towel down on the counter and sighs.

    "Wait, what's wrong, George?" Dream asks, concerned. George normally wasn't like this, so sad by such a simple thing. Was he stressed? Did Dream do something? He sits up in his stool and looks at his husband, worriedly.

    "Nothing, nothing... You just weren't supposed to be home yet." George wipes away imaginary sweat off his forehead and returns to his soup. Dream smiles and gets up from his stool only to walk over to his husband and wrap his arms around from behind.

    "And why's that?" He whispers into his ear. He can sense George smiling without even having to see it. Dream waits for a response but one doesn't come, so he sways them both while George stirs the contents in the pot. Then, George mumbles something under his breath. "Huh, what was that, Georgie?"

    "This was all supposed to be a surprise." He says a bit clearer. Dream wishes George would just smack his smile off his face but it just gets larger. As he sways them both, he peppers a few light kisses onto George's neck. George leans back into his chest and looks up at him lovingly. Dream just smiles down at him and places one last kiss on his forehead.

Suddenly George speaks up again, "Were you limping?" Well that sure ruined the mood.

    "No." He lied and let go of his husband to walk back over to his stool. He tried his best to not limp as he could feel George's eyes peer into his back. Dream scoffs, "No, I swear."

    George rolls his eyes and turns back around to focus on preparing his soup. Dream just watches as he normally did. Watching his arms and wrists tense with every stir. Watching how he would sway back and forth impatiently for the food to cook. Finally after a little longer, George begins to dish the soup into mismatching bowls. "Want to go sit at the table?" Dream blinks awake from his little daydreams and nods to his loving husband.

    When Dream goes to get up, he stumbles a little due to his little limp he got from work. Luckily for him, George didn't see the little stumble, so he just casually walks it off as if nothing happened. Their hallway isn't long but frustratingly enough it's just long enough for Dream's leg to go limp again. This time, George undoubtedly saw.

    "See! I knew you were lying! Why can't you just not act like a tuff guy sometimes?" George shouts and points at Dream's leg. "Like, come on!"

    Dream rolls his eyes at his overprotective husband. What does he expect? Dream was a police officer after all, sometimes he's going to get a little hurt. "I'm fine, can we just eat dinner without you worrying?"

    "How did you injure yourself this time, huh? Some criminal come 'n punch you in the gut?" George persists, talking fast enough that his word slur a little and making exacterative movements with his arms to demonstrate.

    "No. Now can we please-" but Dream's interrupted.

    "No, no! Please do explain." George stops and places both the bowls on the table in front of them, then turns to face Dream. His face is full of frustration. A frown on his face and his eyes scanning Dream for visible wounds.