28

4 1 0
                                    

Hangovers aren't fun, Tommy discovers, and his initial nausea and headache were only the beginning of a long list of consequences. He stays tucked into Dream's side well into the late afternoon, and when the older prince stirs him, Tommy grumbles to show that he's still alive despite how much his body doesn't want him to be.

"The baby's first hangover," Sapnap coos, left to watch him while Dream grabs something from the other room. Tommy pins him with a murderous glare Sapnap snickers from where he's perched on a couch, knowing full well that currently Tommy is helpless to do anything other than spit empty threats and bare his teeth.

What a prick, Tommy thinks. "You're a prick," he informs Sapnap, flipping him off, and receives another self-satisfied grin in return.

Dream comes back into the room with another jug of water.

"You'll have to suffer this one through," he tells Tommy, refilling a glass, rubbing patterns in his back as he gulps it down till the last drop. "First time is the worst, and you've gone way over your limits."

"There's a limit?" Tommy asks, then keels over with a groan when the smallest movement sends another bolt of pain through his skull. "No, don't answer that," he says, squeezing his eyelids together. "I'm not doing that shit ever again."

"Everybody says that," Sapnap says. "But it seemed like a good decision yesterday, didn't it? Enough that you chucked, like, two bottles of wine?"

Tommy makes another noise to signal his uttermost misery. He sinks back into the pillows, eyelids fluttering shut. Dream's arm comes to loop around him in a way that he had only seen him do with Sapnap before - and that's such a casual, confident gesture that it tears a gap through Tommy's chest - yearning, demanding, scarfing down every little crumb of attention and howling for more.

And the thing is, Dream gives so easily. Every whim of his troubled soul, every disbelief and question hummed in a half-delirious state is answered with a squeeze of his arm and a constant reassurance of the other's presence. Tommy nestles his head under Dream's chin, basking in the warmth and the sense that he is wanted, that he belongs - a feeling more addictive than any wine ever could be. If Tommy is a planet then Dream had come to be his sun, the new star at the center of his shattered universe. Maybe that's a word too strong to say so soon, but that's how he always knew love to be. Loud, absolute, so intense that it sometimes burns.

Soon a servant comes with some dishes to fill the parlor table. One glance at food summons nausea and makes Tommy's stomach churn, but when Dream offers him a piece of buttered bread, he takes it and starts chewing on a corner, sipping on lemon tea to soften the hardened crust.

Sapnap and Dream chat about nothing, occasionally flicking a grape at one another or cracking a joke that would have both sides guffawing and wheezing. It's different from the so-called family meals that Emperor likes so much; nobody forces Tommy to talk when he is content with just listening, and if he quips in it doesn't feel like he's walking on eggshells. Tommy would never admit it out loud, but he missed this - missed feeling simple, missed feeling at home. Maybe, just maybe, the day will come when he can get used to it once again.

A cloud blocks out the sun. Tommy feels, rather than sees, how the light behind his eyelids starts to gradually fade. He pries one eye open and watches a green feather painting patterns in the air, pushed around by the wind blowing through the fireplace's yawning jaws. Gray front brews on the horizon, threatening to bury the rest of the afternoon in shadow, and some crow perched on a branch outside ruffles its feathers in uncertainty. It's not safe to fly in this weather. Come to think of it, Tommy hasn't seen Prince in a long while... not the parrot himself, at least.

Butterfly Reign - SilentTeyzWhere stories live. Discover now