A Demonic Dance

Chapter Eleven: Dry Weetabix

This sleeping arrangement soon became a routine, continuing on for many nights after that, their daily schedule being that of eating breakfast together, Dream doing his usual task of annoying the hell out of George, George streaming and recording YouTube videos whilst the fascinated demon watched him like an absolute creep, other daily activities included going for walks, cooking monstrosities of dinners, and then repeating the cycle again, walking up in each others arms despite having gone to sleep meters apart.

Like usual, Dream was the first to wake up, his eyes squinting at the seemingly perfect splinter of light that danced through the gaps in the curtain that seemed purposely placed to blind him.

Going to move out from the suns reach Dream realised he was unable to, a sleeping George curled into his chest, gripping onto him despite his sleeping state.

Over the nights Dream had come to the recollection that this was one of Georges favourite position to sleep in, sometimes he would wake up to his arms wrapped around George, the smaller's back pressed against his stomach. Other times he'd be lying next to Dream, his head resting on his arm or his chest, some times with his head pressed in to Dreams chest or sometimes his neck, a position that would leave the two boys blushing furiously and on the odd occasion Dream would find himself practically on top of George.

On mornings like that, and now he thought about it that in most mornings in general, he would slowly shuffle away from George or slink out the room to find some poor sleeping person to feed off.

But today he felt content in his position and instead of pushing off the human he held him closer, squeezing him close despite the numbness in his arm from George lying on it, it was around 11 o'clock and the time he would be waking soon anyway, which yes sound like an unhelpful time to get up, but with some nights the British staying streaming up till the early hours of the morning it seemed quite reasonable.

George always looked peaceful in his sleep, cute even. Dream often had to tell himself to stop staring at him with the worry George would wake up and it would seem like a real creep.

He couldn't deny though that over the past weeks they'd gotten closer and sometimes, especially after a day of being kicked into the living room while George streamed, he found himself looking forward to the night time.

He used to dislike the night times. He needed considerably less sleep then his human companion and often found himself lying bored on the sofa for hours before George woke up. Often he would end up wandering around the house, looking at things and trying to figure out what they were. Having died a few hundred years go there were many things that hadn't been created by the time he died and obviously with out a 101 demon guide to the human world there had been a few things he'd been uncertain of.

Phones for example he'd seen on many of his summonings, also with things he now knew to be big filming equipment and things. He'd caught the jist of that rather quickly, along with the TV and Georges computer which he would sometimes go on when the human was out meeting up with friends he was so rudely disallowed from meeting. That had more buttons however and was harder to get the grisp on.

There were three things however he'd NEVER understand that George had shown him: Elevators, Planes, and the devils he now knew to be called Electric whisks.

Never going near one of those again.

Now however, instead of disliking his weird nights of learning about the human strangeness, he found the nights calming, being able to know George was in his arms and hearing his rhythmic breathing calmed him slightly.

Talking about breathing, George slowly began to wake up, yawning slightly and snuggling closer in to Dream before freezing, as if only now noticing the mass of flesh and heat he had nuzzled his way in to.