Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The world turns, and the move goes… as well as it can. They’re out on time, happy with the state they leave the apartment in, the new apartment is clean and painted and furnished with a nice new bed for Drista and ‘Dream’s’ room kitted out to house the Kwami, though it does double as a guest room for if they need it.

The stress of it all does spur the first actual argument that Dream and Punz have, one over them eating take out for the fourth day in a row and Dream not having the energy to cook and Punz not wanting to eat fucking pasta and-
Once they start shouting, Drista slips out of the house. It’s that, the quiet “See you later,” that stops Dream at least in his tracks. His mind and his therapy catches up to the heated words and flared tempers and he takes a deep breath.

“Okay,” he says, irritation still evident in his voice, “We- we- we need to- I need to take a few minutes and breathe and shit.”

Punz looks for a moment like he’s going to argue. Then he closes his eyes, inhales hard.
“Yeah. Right. Yeah. I’m gonna take a walk, get some milk. Maybe- I dunno. Potatoes.”

“I’ll see you when you get back.” Dream replies, and feels the anger drain, replaced with uncertainty.
“I love you.”

Punz exhales.

“I love you too. Just- stop yelling at me. Please.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me, too. Talk about it when I get back.”

By the time he returns, they can barely remember why they were so angry. Of course the solution was easy, to just go grab something that Punz can cook that isn’t pasta. They have baked potatoes that night, and Dream falls asleep on Punz’s shoulder almost immediately after they’ve eaten. Drista does the washing up, and they sit down to talk it over the next morning.

A back-and-forth over Dream being exhausted handling the majority of the move, and Punz being exhausted from working overtime with Puffy to set up the business for the years to come. They swap apologies, for expecting too much, for shouting, for overreacting. Progress takes time. Arguments will always burn in the wake of stress. They have done the best they can, and they will do the best they can.

Drista spends the last few weeks before school, between work packets, working on a paint mural on her wall with Niki and Orikko. It’s spirals of designs switching between art movement styles, from lines and planes of De Stijl to winding intricacies of Art Nouveau, fading to shadow behind a graffiti-style tag of a monkey in the centre.

Dream’s room is green. His curtains are green, his plushies are piled by the pillow, and he gets to put up new photos of his family. There’s the re-framed photo of him and Drista at the side of the pool, and he adds brand new ones. One of Puffy and him side by side beside a ‘you must be this tall to ride’ sign that Puffy doesn’t make. One of himself, bright pink, being carried bridal style by Sapnap. A photo he took of a group picnic, with Wilbur laid out dead to the world, and Techno and Tommy both hovering over him with sharpies whilst 5up and Drista both call ideas.

And over time, the photos grow.

Drista, looking thoroughly perturbed in her mandatory school uniform on her first day. Punz and Dream in their matching Halloween outfits, accompanied by a group photo from a Halloween party a few days later where the polycule dressed up as the mystery gang. 

Punz was Fred, Dream was Daphne, Sapnap was Velma, Karl was Shaggy, and George has his arms splayed in his Scooby-Doo onesie. (Quackity and Wilbur are behind the camera- Quackity as Scrappy-Doo at Karl’s insistence.)

There’s one of George and Dream on bonfire night, with Dream’s head tucked under George’s chin and George’s hand- sweater paw- pressed over the ear not resting against his chest as they watch the glitter of the lights above. From the same night, one of Sapnap and Karl giggling over an absolute disaster of an attempt at s’mores.

Christmas at Foolish’s place, the only one of their apartments big enough to fit all- mostly- of them. Crumb is on facetime when she can be, naturally spending it with her own family, and Eret and Elaina call in from California but otherwise-

Dream sits on one sofa with the others of the sober squad and laughs at his friends. At Punz, who has gotten caught under the mistletoe by no fewer than five separate men, only two of which are Sapnap and Karl. Sam got him once, followed by an amused dig and similar smooch from Ponk. Foolish keeps getting him. Dream genuinely isn’t sure if the two of them are trying to bump into one another under the doorways, or if it’s accidental.

The funniest one is Tommy and Ranboo bumping into one another between the hall and the bathroom. Tommy makes a loud comment about the mistletoe, and Ranboo stares at him for a solid three seconds before replying,

“Yeah, sure,”

“Wait, what?” Tommy replies.

“A kiss, right? That’s what the,” he points at the mistletoe.

“I- yeah- I mean I was fucking around but,”

“No, it’s tradition, yeah? Here.”

And he- Dream nearly screeches with laughter- produces, from the pocket of his letterman, a bag of mini Hershey’s kisses. He picks one out as Tommy’s stuttering halts, and when Tommy doesn’t immediately offer a hand, Ranboo pops it on the top of his head, instead.

“Merry Christmas!” he says cheerfully, slipping past Tommy into the main hall, “Have a nice piss!”

Ranboo plops down next to Dream and huffs, burying his face in his hands. His hands, because he does finally have use of his left back, even if it’s weaker than the right and exhausts easier. He’s still in physical therapy, but he can at least use it.

“That was pretty slick,” Dream comments, leaning forward for another J2O and clicking the cap off with the opener on his keys, “Orange and mango, or glitter berry?”

“Glitter berry,” Ranboo muffles into his palm. Dream nods, though it goes unseen, and hands him the newly opened bottle. He grabs a second for himself. Ranboo takes a few good swigs before he leans back into the couch and eyes Punz and Foolish on the kitchen counter.

“I knew- I knew he was gonna try that.”

“What- try kissing you?” Dream snorts, “Tommy didn’t strike me that way.”

“No! He doesn’t want to, that’s like- that’s- not the worst part, that is how I like my friends, but he just wanted to get in my grill. It’s a chess game living with Tommy, and I’m winning.”

“So why do you sound like you’re having a breakdown?”

“Sorry, you try having him in your face acting like he wants to- I don’t know.” Ranboo rolls his eyes. The tension is leaking out now, and Dream feels for him. It’s not a big deal, but tell his anxiety that.

“It was a slick move, though.”

“Oh, I know. I checkmated him. Look at Tubbo,” Ranboo nods at Tubbo, currently sat on the edge of Fundy’s armchair whilst 5up bats his head with a roll of wrapping paper and is ignored, all of Tubbo’s attention on his phone.

“I’m looking.”

“Tommy is texting him right now. I don’t even need to bet, I just know. They’re planning on teaming up on me, and Wilbur has been ‘spiking’ Tommy’s drinks all night, so it’s only going to get worse.” It’s said with a lilt of amusement, no actual concern.

Dream watches him curiously over a sip of glittery juice for a moment before his attention pulls over to Foolish and Punz again. They’ve at least given up on the pretense of mistletoe, because Punz is sat on the cabinet and Dream can’t tell if Punz is actively making out with him or if they’re just pressed close as they talk. Either way, it’s cute, and Dream knows fine well that Punz will be all over him soon.

There’s the clatter of the front door going, and then George’s voice calling that they’re back. The clink of glass, more J2O set on the sober squad’s table, the multipack of Dr Pepper cans dropped in the ‘game room’ (Foolish’s room, where Sapnap and Drista are currently warring it out on some game or another whilst they wait for Tommy to return) and the alcohol is popped on the side. Karl shucks out of Dream’s coat and comes bouncing over, giving Ranboo time enough to shuffle a little to the side before Karl plops into Dream’s lap.

“Hi,” he greets, and tucks his face into the side of Dream’s neck. Dream yelps as the cold tip of his nose presses to skin, but the hand he threads through Karl’s hair doesn’t pull him away.

“Why would you do this to me?” he whines, and Karl giggles.

“Warm.”

“Yes, I’ve been inside the whole time.” Dream replies, audibly smiling. He goes to take a swig of his drink, and cold fingers cover his to drag the bottle down so Karl takes a gulp first.
“Rude.”

“You love me.” Karl turns back against his neck.

“Yeah, doesn’t stop you being rude.” Dream kisses the side of Karl’s hair.

“Ranboo!” Tommy yells from the other room, “C’mere!”

“Oh God,” Ranboo says, and gets up, grip white-knuckle on his bottle, “Wish me luck.”

“May you escape Christmas Day without being kissed by Tommy.” Dream lifts his bottle in salute, and Ranboo exaggerates a grimace before he disappears. Almost as soon as he’s gone, George is plopping down on Karl’s legs. He grunts a little in pain, but hooks an arm out to cuddle George in with him.

“Fucking- you’re both so cold,” Dream complains, despite looping an arm around George, too.

“Deal with it,” George replies, and is distracted immediately by Karl dragging him into a kiss. Dream rolls his eyes, lets his attention stray back to Punz and Foolish, who have gone back to making out. It’s gentler this time, really straddling the border between making out and just kissing, with Punz’s hands on Foolish’s waist.

Dream feels a flicker of… something. 

It’s not a particularly pleasant something. He thinks, for a moment, it might be jealousy. He’s not immune to jealousy, but he doesn’t really feel it when Punz is off kissing people because… well, he does that a lot. Karl does it more than Punz. Dream doesn’t mind that- or at least, he doesn’t mind them kissing friends. It’s a conversation they’ve had, of within their friend group they don’t care particularly for physical displays of affection. Generally, it’s not more than a peck.

Dream knows that Punz is, without a doubt, down fucking catastrophic for Foolish. He’s so in love, it’s sickening. 

(“So why don’t you ask him out?” Dream had asked him, and Punz had groaned,

“I have, Dream. Like- multiple times. He doesn’t get it, and I don’t wanna come on too strong like- oh hey, you’re so sweet and so hot and I think I’m in love with you please date me.”)

Foolish very obviously reciprocates at least some of Punz’s feelings, because Dream has caught him more than once watching Punz do something or other with a dopey smile on his face.

So why is he jealous?

They’ve stopped kissing again. Punz has his forehead pressed to Foolish’s and Dream can faintly hear the squeak of laughter.

Foolish is a little dense. He’s not stupid, not by a long shot- he’s an incredible fucking architect, able to estimate measurements by sight to within an inch, usually less, able to identify materials and spit up ideas at will. Dream has been audience to more than one of Foolish’s architectural rambles- he works as a designer for Canary Wharf (hence the apartment) and takes the occasional freelance architectural design job elsewhere. 

At one point during a visit with Punz to Foolish’s apartment, they’d found the dining table scattered with all sorts of information packets, no less than three separate digital screens with multiple tabs.

Foolish broke into a ramble about different types of red brick. Dream learned that day that there’s a specific place in the north of England that makes- or made- a red brick known for being stupidly tough. Not in that it isn’t as brittle as brick tends to be, but in that it is known to ruin power tools like drills when they run through it. Blunting tips, stressing motors, all that sort of stuff. 

Foolish isn’t sure how it’s made- not his specialty- but he knows the qualities of it, and he compares it to other types of red brick and then to sandstone and then-

On. And on. It’s actually kind of fascinating, how he rambles at full speed whilst he sorts through his work.

He’s not stupid, but he is so fucking dense. Dream knows from conversations with Punz that Foolish genuinely just hasn’t realised that Punz is in love with him. And yes, it is that serious- but from what they can gather, Foolish just thinks he’s kind of fucking around and having fun. (Not wholly untrue. It’s not just that, but that’s part of it.)

It clicks- Dream isn’t jealous. This isn’t jealousy. It’s irritation, protective worry. Punz deserves the world, deserves to be loved wholly and without abandon. It’s not exactly Foolish’s fault, but it’s still hurting Punz.

“Hey,” he half-shouts across the gap. Both Punz and Foolish whip around to turn to him, and Dream gestures to the couch beside him like two of his partners aren’t trading spit under his chin, “Quit being antisocial, come join us.”

There’s a pause, a brief murmur of conversation between Punz and Foolish, and Punz leaves first. He comes over, plops onto the sofa next to Dream and leans over to kiss him.

“Jesus,” Dream says when Punz pulls back, “How much have you drank?”

“Bit,” Punz replies with a grin. Foolish wanders up beside them, eyes the lack of space on the couch, and perches on the arm instead. Dream’s head tilts, and Punz gets into it before Dream can make a joke, scooping Foolish off of the arm and into his lap. Foolish makes a noise of surprise, and Punz laughs, face pressed into Foolish’s shoulder. 

George unpeels from Karl to lean back, eyeing Punz and Foolish.

“Weren’t you making out about ten seconds ago?”

“Maybe,” Foolish replies cryptically, “Weren’t you?”

“Maybe.” George replies. “But we’re dating, so…”

There’s a silence. Dream winces a little bit. Not that he would have been any more elegant with it, but God, George is heavy handed.

Thankfully- or to their chagrin- Foolish just blinks at him a couple of times and tilts his head.

“Huh.” he says, “It’s fun though.”

George sighs. Opens his mouth. Dream knows that whatever is about to come out of it is gonna be awful, so he jabs his fingers into George’s ribs and tries to hold on as he wriggles and yelps in protest. Whilst George is distracted hissing like a cat, Dream leans over toward Punz, who automatically follows the gesture.

“He’s drunk,” Punz says. It’s half a warning, half concern, and Dream pulls a face.

“I know. Look, Punz-”

He glances at Foolish, who has caught on that this whispered conversation is meant to be private, and has his head tilted back and fingers in his ears. He’s humming faintly, barely audible over the relatively quiet music.

“Don’t,” Punz says quietly, without any real dedication behind it. Dream smiles, a little pained, and frees his hand from George’s claws to twist and lay over Punz’s on the back of the sofa. Weird angle and positioning, but gentle.

“You need to be just- really upfront,” Dream half-whispers, “I know you’re worried about coming on too strong, but seriously.”

“We had this conversation over Sapnap, too,” Punz says drily, “And it’s just the same. I like how it is now. Coming on too strong will fuck it up.”

“You want more, though,” Dream frowns, “And he’s not gonna catch on with you asking for it quietly, dude.”

Punz groans. Dream continues,

“And- yeah, we went over this with Sapnap. And what happened with Sapnap?”

“He loves me,” Punz replies, a half-drawl, a reminder he’s given often when the demons creep up. Usually gentler and more routine than this, usually accompanied with entwined fingers and looks so warm and soft they could melt snow on contact.

“So what makes you think it’s gonna be different?”

Punz just… sighs.

“I hate you,” he tells Dream, “I love you.”

Dream beams, stretches further until Punz gets the message and leans in to kiss him. He still tastes like vodka and orange juice, but whatever.

They hear Sapnap yell in the background, and then half-words about losing- sounds like Mario Party? Chased by Drista laughing at him, Tommy insulting him, and Ranboo… making Ranboo noises. Then in stomps Sapnap, over to the sofa, where he perches like a bird on the arm by Dream and leans over them. Karl tilts his head back against Sapnap’s thigh and reaches up to pat at him.

“Are you okay?”

“Stupid fucking stupid- stole my star. I was this close to winning!” He holds his fingers up, almost touching. Both Karl and Dream laugh at him, and George sticks his tongue out. Dream watches Sapnap’s eyes flick from them over to Punz, expecting the usual ribbing, and his head tilts slightly so Dream turns to follow his eye.

Punz and Foolish are leaned slightly away from them, foreheads near-pressed together and a few strands of Foolish’s hair fallen to curtain them partially off. Dream can hear them whispering, can’t make out words, and doesn’t try to.

“I thought it was private,” Foolish tells Punz, quiet, “Little bit of space. Didn’t want to move, though- uh, not that I could. I think you’re bruising my thigh.”

“Shit,” Punz replies, and lightens his grip. “Sorry.”

“I didn’t complain about it!” 

“I didn’t let go! ” Punz replies, and then sighs, “Okay- just- like… man. You are- you’re the densest person I’ve ever met.”

“Rude. True, but rude.”

“Shhh, shh, let me finish or I’m gonna just- like- spontaneously shit or something.”

“Not on the couch, this is expensive.”

“Everything in your apartment is expensive. Everything you own is expensive.” Punz wrinkles his nose.

“Eh- you’re cheap.” Foolish half-shrugs, and Punz fake gasps in sort of real offense.

“What? Okay- okay, first, no, I’m fucking not. I’m worth more than everything in here.”

“True.” Foolish grins. Punz rolls his eyes, and blames the alcohol for the flush.

“Second- you don’t own me, bitch.”

“Okay, I don’t own you- most of the time-”

“What?”

“Overwatch. Anyway. I don’t own you, but you’re kinda mine, right?”

Punz opens his mouth.
Closes his mouth.
Opens it again.

Not how he imagined this confession going, but you know, if the shoe fits, he supposes.

“I mean- I wanna be. I’d like you to be kinda mine, too.”

Foolish blinks, and Punz sees familiar confusion cloud his vision. Right. Doesn’t get hints. He has to be upfront.

“I mean- fuck, dude, you’re so dense. I mean I’m not just like- I’m not fucking with you or whatever. I mean I actually like you. Have feelings for you. Am romantically interested in you. Would like to take you on a date. Did any of that actually register?”

“Uh.” Says Foolish intelligently. Punz groans. He’s thinking about how to reword it when Foolish visibly perks up and says,
“Like- boyfriends?”

“Yes! Oh my God, which one was it?”

“The taking me on a date.” Foolish tries to nod, forgets they’re huddled in together, whacks his forehead off of Punz’s by accident. They both groan, Punz pulls his hand from Foolish’s thigh to press to his head, and Foolish tucks his face into the crook of Punz’s neck and whimpers. It’s all fake. Punz can tell, but he lets it happen anyway, and when the ache has subsided from his own head, he strokes through Foolish’s hair.

“You okay? That wasn’t really an answer.”

“Where’re you takin’ me?” Foolish muffles into his shoulder. Punz laughs a little.

“I’unno, I feel like you wouldn’t like a fancy meal or whatever. And laser quest I think we’d either destroy a bunch of kids and feel bad, or yell at each other about it and that’s not really first date material. Can’t do picnics in winter. Oh- Sea Life! They have sharks.”

“Sharks?” Foolish pops up from his shoulder. “I’m always up for sharks.”

“Yeah, it’s an aquarium. They have a rainforest section with turtles and shit, but, uh- they have fuckin’ bugs in there. I mean- I’ll do it if you want.”

“Aww,” Foolish ducks back in to rest his forehead to Punz’s, “You’d tolerate- what bugs?”

“Tarantulas, centipedes, I dunno. Spiders.”

“You’d put up with spiders for me?”

“Sure. For a bit, anyway, I don’t think like- not for a long time.” Punz smiles despite the obvious wrinkling of the nose at the idea of bugs.

“I’ll pass on the bugs. I’ll take the shark, though.”

“Oh- uh- no, let’s… go over that when we’re sober. I don’t trust your decision making skills right now.”

“What?”

“Just- I think they’re offering something to do with snorkelling with the sharks for a bit.”

“Oh cool, but yeah. Maybe in the morning.”

“This was painless. I mean, getting here? Painful. Foolish, d’you know how many times I’ve tried to ask you out?”

“You’ve never asked me out?”

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Punz replies, and kisses him.

On the other side of the couch, Karl cheers and presses his phone into Sapnap’s hands until he wriggles around to take an awkwardly angled picture of the six of them all bunched and piled up, pink-cheeked and beaming. The photo gets framed in Dream’s room.

Dream and George go on a solo date in early January, after a New Year much the same as Christmas except with Crumb there and less Tommy trying to kiss Ranboo. (He picks Tubbo as his victim this time and Wilbur has to peel him off of the floor when Tubbo panics and headbutts him. It’s actually very funny.)

The others are busy or just simply not feeling the last minute plans, which neither of them really mind, because they all met up for a movie date quite literally the Saturday prior. But Drista is in school, Dream’s freelancing job finished up yesterday, and George is between jobs again so they just have time. Also, Dream’s sick of sitting in the house. 

So off they fuck to the beach. They grab ice cream, Dream stops in at one of the expensive cheese specialist shops, and they duck under the pier to perch up on the rocks. Dream gives a friendly wave to the group of older teenagers down by the edge of the tide, and they return it. He’s learned that they’re pretty polite, and they have a decent understanding of ‘don’t call the police for us smoking weed, we stay quiet about your magic animal’ so it’s one of the places the Kwami can be free from the confines of hiding. George sets the little tub of strawberry and honeycomb crunch ice cream down, hands Tikki the pink plastic scoop, and Dream leans over him to set down the box of mid-range camembert. Plagg sighs, but opens his mouth to thank him and doesn’t get far before Dream also pops down the box of variety cheese tasters from the specialty shop.

“You’d be surprised how much of a pain in the ass it is to get camembert. The shop only had hard and semi-hard cheeses. I guess storing softer cheeses is a pain, or something.”

“Oh,” There’s a tinge of disappointment to Plagg’s voice, but he’s hovering excitedly as Tikki begins devouring, “Thank you, anyway.”

“Mm!” Tikki adds, finishes her mouthful of ice cream, “It’s nice to be able to get outside sometimes. I know it’s difficult now, but thank you.”

Dream and George are quiet, for the most part, pressed shoulder to shoulder. George hooks his ankle around Dream’s calf and they blink out over grey water and chill wind. It’s strange, how a dark and dreary day becomes so pretty and pleasant in good company. It’s definitely too cold to be having ice cream, but they’re both enjoying it, and it means that the occasional rivulet of melted ice cream that drips over the edge of the cone is quickly swiped up.

Dream finishes first, being apparently immune to brain freeze. He withdraws the baby wipes from his bag with his cleaner hand, wipes himself down, and settles his head on George’s shoulder whilst he finishes his ice cream.

Tikki and Plagg are talking quietly between bites off to the side. Even with all the time they spend together now, it’s rare it’s just the two of them, and they have about a millennium to catch up on. It’s nice, or at least Dream thinks, that they finally get the chance to be happy, too. It’s easy to forget about them, sometimes, especially since Plagg tends to follow Punz around most of the time now, and the Kwami in general are often off doing their own thing. Dream thumbs over the ring. It always feels weird to be wearing it again. Even when he’s wearing it, it still looks like Punz’s ring- gold, instead of the black it used to be. He only has it on so that Plagg could come out with them.

“You’re thinking loud.” George wiggles him, and Dream exhales, amused.

“I always think loud.”

“True. It’s annoying.”

“You love me though,” Dream tilts his head to grin up at George, who rolls his eyes, but smiles. He doesn’t reply, though, just laps at his ice cream. He has- had- a scoop of bubblegum, parma violet, and strawberry cheesecake. Bit of a weird mix, or so Dream says with his triple of white chocolate, mint, and key lime pie. (George made fun of him for picking two of the three green flavors, but he likes green. Sue him.)

“Tell me you love me, George?” It’s intended as light, teasing. Most of the time when he says it, it is, he knows that George loves him. The words aren’t always in George’s wheelhouse, it’s not how he expresses himself.
But like Punz, sometimes, Dream struggles to remember and he needs to be reminded. George holds the cone a little away from himself and wrinkles his fingers in the baby wipe to make sure they’re not sticky when he wriggles to reach up and brush strands of Dream’s hair back. He ducks down, kisses him gently.

“I love you,” he promises. Dream sighs through a smile as George goes back to his ice cream.

“I love you too.”

The wind doesn’t feel cold across them. Not really. They’re sheltered down here anyway, from the wind, the occasional spatter of light rain, from the world. The guys by the tide back up as it comes in- Dream waves at them when they decide it’s too close to stick around. They’re really quite polite, they hear them talking about not getting too close to Dream and George because of the smoke. 

Dream, George, and the Kwami head up not long after them, stand hand-in-hand as they watch the tide pull up over the pebbles of the beach, both Plagg and Tikki sheltering in Dream’s collar because George’s coat isn’t big enough for them. Floridian benefits, they suppose. Feels the cold harder, sure, but the hood’s bigger and fluffier and the perfect spot for the Kwami to hide.

“I think I wanna visit home,” Dream says, quiet, “Maybe in summer. When Drista is out of school for a bit.”

“Florida?” George asks, tilting his head a little, “How long has it been?”

“It’ll be about seven years.” Dream shakes his head, sighs, “Too long. I don’t know. I miss the beach- my beach- and I- I wanna-”

George reaches out and brushes a thumb across his cheek. Dream didn’t even realise he was crying. He turns into the hug George offers, presses his face into George’s hair.

“Take your time,” George soothes, “It’s okay. You have time.”

Dream shudders a little. Muffled, into George’s hair,
“Sorry,” he says, stuffy, “I didn’t wanna cry on our date.”

“We’ll have plenty more, idiot. It’s okay.” George rubs little circles into his back and waits until his breath evens again before he eases back a little to meet Dream’s eyes. Doesn’t fully let go, though. “Can you finish your thought?”

Fucking therapy. It makes Dream laugh, he’s heard that exact phrase so many times. It’s so gentle, so genuine.

“I wanna visit my parents’ graves.” He says, and doesn’t break this time. His hands flex on George’s waist, squeezing briefly, and George pets his side like a quiet congratulations.

“She gets two weeks at Easter,” George says.

“Huh?”

“Drista. The school holidays. And a week in February.”

“Oh,” says Dream, quiet. He thinks about it for a few long seconds before he shakes his head. “No. Summer holidays- I don’t wanna be in Orlando for spring break, and I wanna give Drista time to- I dunno. Recover, if it’s a lot for her.”

“Okay,” George nods, “But if you feel like you need to go earlier, we’ll all have both of your backs.”

“I love you.” Dream tells him, blinking away the tears that burn at the edge of his eyes. George grins at him, brighter than the sun itself.

“You too, idiot.”

“Your idiot.”

“My idiot.” George agrees, and Dream kisses him.

Punz quits the café just after Easter.

Puffy holds none of it against him. Why would she, when they spent the last nine or so months preparing specifically for this eventuality?

She closes the café down early on his last day, after all the regulars have been in to say goodbye. It’s a Saturday, so Drista and Crumb aren’t in school, none of them have uni classes- assignments is something else, but there’s a collective promise not to talk about it.

They have a goodbye party for him. Puffy sobs. Then cries. Then starts bawling her eyes out, and Dream slips in to sit next to her, lets her cry into his shoulder. Punz glances over, looks like he’s going to make for them, and Dream shakes his head faintly.

‘Wait,’ he mouths, ‘Let me, first.’

Punz nods. Leaves them, gives them space. Niki follows his eye, and Dream sees sympathy and pity flicker across her expression, but she just sort of blinks slowly at Dream, leaves it to him. Wilbur is shaking her right now, anyway.

“Are you okay?” Dream asks Puffy, quiet, pulling her water bottle across the table and flicking the cap open before he hands it to her. “You can just nod or shake, I’ll get it.”

“‘M sorry,” Puffy sobs, and swigs her water, slow. “I don’t wanna cry. I don’t wanna.”

“It’s okay,” Dream assures, “I cried at a really cute bird the other day.”

She laughs. It’s watery, and she’s still struggling to breathe or talk through tears. Her voice has the nasal edge of someone barely holding it together.
“I’m not sad for him. I’m just sad.”

Dream rubs her back, small circles, helps her steady the bottle in shaking hands. He thinks he understands- that Puffy isn’t upset at or with Punz for leaving, but is sad to lose him. Puffy is kind of like an adopted parent, or at least an older sibling with the same sort of vibe. She’s always looking out for them, protecting them, caring for them. Dream supposes it must be like watching a child fly the nest, except in this case the nest is a drug business but you know. Different strokes. He was here, once.

“We’re not going far,” Dream assures, “You’re still… our… our Puffy. I dunno- I was trying to think of a title, but I don’t think any of ‘em really fit. You’re just our Puffy.”

She cries harder. Dream flails.

“Sorry.”

“S’okay, ‘s sweet,” she blubs, turning back to press her face into his shoulder. Dream doesn’t mind the wet patch. He’ll steal Punz’s hoodie before they leave.
When Puffy is a little more sniffly and a little less blubby, Dream decides it's probably time to tag out. He looks over, intending to call for Punz’s attention, but he finds he doesn’t need to as Punz is half-watching them. He waves, instead, eases out from next to Puffy as Punz crosses to them.

“All yours,” he says, and smiles into the quick peck Punz gives him.

“You know where my hoodie is,” Punz says, nodding at Dream’s shoulder, and slips into the spot he’s just vacated to hug Puffy.

Dream changes. The party rages. Not really, but it is fun, and Ranboo surprises them all by producing a really well-made and beautifully decorated cake, and they watch the Kwami chase one another around in circles on their sugar highs. Sam falls asleep curled up on a bench, and Barkk grows tired of tag in her sugar crash so settles in his hood. When Sam wakes up, it’s not just Barkk in there- he’s gathered Pollen, Daizzi, Wahyya, and Nooroo, too. 

Dream is honestly always just happy to see Nooroo finally able to relax. The brooch passes back and forth between himself and Drista- it’s him, today. He watches Sam sit up, jostling the Kwami in his hood, and Ponk laugh a little at his confusion, piles his own sweater in his lap like a little nest and offers himself to the still-sleepy, somewhat irritated Kwami. They take the offer, and Sam fake pouts about Barkk abandoning him as she and the others settle in the little nest. Over the course of the next hour or so, Ponk becomes the favoured resting place, until only Kaalki remains, perched on Ranboo’s shoulder. He offers her apple slices that she takes with quiet thanks.

“You’re regretting it now, aren’t you?” 5up teases as he slides into the seat opposite Ponk, eyeing him. The nest is full, and there’s… looks like Wesst and Orikko, nestled in Ponk’s hair, Stompp curled up against his thigh at an angle that won’t stab him with the horns if they’re careful, Trixx and Duusu are wriggled down into his collar and conked out. Dzeeh is half-awake, sat on one shoulder and crunching through sunflower seeds. 

“Nope. Not at all.” Ponk lies obviously, in a whisper. 5up barks a little laugh.

“Fundy and I are heading out, now. Where’s Liiri?” As he reaches over and gently scoops Wahyya from the edge. Barely even winces when she bites him automatically.

“Oh- oh no, I’m so sorry, pup.” She says as she realises what’s going on. 5up laughs again, already pulling a box of bandaids from his pocket.

“I knew what I was getting into, don’t worry. Do you want to pick the color this time?”

He offers the box out to her and lets her choose as Ponk eases up a hand- the arm with Dzeeh at the shoulder, so he doesn’t wake anyone accidentally- and he scoops something from the back of his head. Returns with a palmful of yawning Liiri.

“I think the birds like to nest in my hair.” He tells 5up as he hands him off. Wahyya affixes the pink bandaid to the little bite wound and smooths her paw nubs over it apologetically. 5up takes Liiri from Ponk with a smile.

“Makes sense. Nice to see you, thanks for babysitting.”

Ponk fake grumbles after him as he leaves.

Drista’s GCSE’s are… well, they’re an experience. An experience in stressed-out-of-her-mind teenager accompanied by two well-meaning but clueless guardians. Parent-teacher meanings are fucking priceless. Dream and Punz turn up and the teachers stare wide-eyed and cower when they finally get around to explaining the whole dead parents thing.

Drista is a good student, for the most part. She manages to avoid expulsion, though she gets more than a few after-school detentions for not quite fighting, but definitely getting physical. She’s fairly popular, mostly because she refuses to take shit, partially because she’s older than her classmates. She knows which college she wants to go to, has uni plans already, her grades are good, the only negatives the teachers have is her defiance and Dream spends so long arguing over the use of defiance as a dirty word that Punz has to make him chill out. 

But the GCSE’s, as with everything, eventually pass. And then comes the summer holidays, and they take a week after her last exam to celebrate, relax. 

“Are you going to prom?” Dream asks her, a few days before. She has a ticket and everything, it’s more about the emotions.

“Uh…” A frown, “I dunno. Maybe. I don’t think I’m feeling the dress anymore, though.”

“We can try and find a new one.” Punz says, sitting up from the couch, “We have the money.”

“Nah, I don’t- it’s the fact it’s a dress. D’you think we could get a suit on short notice?”

Punz glances over to Dream, who shrugs.

“I can ask Tubbo and his parents, I’m sure there’s at least a suit rental place. If not here, there will be one in London.”

“You’re the best, sometimes.” Drista visibly relaxes, and Dream half-sprints across the room before she can get away to wrap her in a hug that she yelps about.
“I have changed my mind, let me go!”

They get her a suit. It’s a nice, sort of dark emerald green and shiny, but not gaudy. A darker green waistcoat lightly patterned with gold to match the tie. And she goes to prom, and she comes home, and the next week they fly out to Florida.

It’s all of them. Not just Dream and Drista, but Punz, Sapnap, George, Karl, and Quackity, too. They split between two AirBnB’s that are about a thirty second walk from one another, loading Karl, Quackity, and George in one, and Dream, Drista, Punz, and Sapnap in the other.

George immediately complains about it being hot, and so in the afternoon of the second day, Dream walks into the main room of their place and finds George napping on the sofa with Karl curled on his chest, most of the way asleep, phone in hand. A lot like they used to, when they lived out here.

“Hey,” Dream whispers, and crouches beside the sofa to kiss Karl’s forehead.

“Hi,” Karl whispers in return. They don’t need to whisper. They know George could sleep through the apocalypse. Quackity is making food, judging by the sound from the kitchen.

“We’re heading to the graveyard in about an hour,” Dream says. It’s a little strained. “If you wanna come.”

“I’m not gonna intrude on that.”

“You’re not intruding,” Dream tells him firmly, “They were basically your parents too. And we want you there- Drista asked specifically, and I want you there. I want you with me. But I don’t want to force you, either.”

“No, I- I want to come. I just- are you sure I wouldn’t be intruding?”

“Promise,” Dream pets his hair, gentle. “I’ll come get you when we’re on our way out if you don’t come to us first.”

Almost an hour later, Sapnap hands off Dream’s light jacket and pauses to smooth a few curls back out of his eyes.

“You feelin’ okay?” He asks, low. Distantly, they can hear Punz feeling out much the same as he helps Drista with the flowers.

“Yeah.” Dream says, and it’s the truth. He leans into the palm that Sapnap curls around his cheek, though, because he’s never going to say no to affection.
“I’m- I’m glad that I’ll get to say goodbye properly. And I’m excited to tell them about… well, not everything that’s happened, but the future.”

Sapnap pulls him into a hug, and Dream exhales hard through his nose as he tucks his face into the top of Sapnap’s head. He glances over to Punz and Drista, where Drista is sorting out a couple of small bunches of flowers. Punz, beside her, is following her lead, pulling the blade of the scissors down the inside of the (biodegradable plastic) ribbon to make it curl.

They’re not talking much. Punz tried asking if she was okay, and she told him to shut up. It wasn’t unkind, it’s just not how Drista talks about her emotions and they know it- and she is, for the most part, okay. They can tell because she doesn’t flinch when Punz nudges her arm aside to go for the ribbon roll, and because she flashes a half-smile and an eye roll when he yelps as he stabs himself with the remarkably blunt scissors.

Dream does not expect her, when they finish, to turn and press into a very quick, very awkward hug. He doesn’t hear the raspy,

“Thank you,” That she whispers to Punz, but Punz hears it. Pats her shoulder as she pulls back from him. Doesn’t say anything remotely like the ‘Any time. We’re family now.’ that’s rattling around in his head.

He knows her better. He knows she knows.

Drista makes her way over to Dream, hands him his two bunches. She’s still holding four.

“The others are for Karl,” she tells him when she sees him look, and Dream nods.

“What do you guys want to eat when you get back?” Punz asks as he follows, “Your choice for the night, even Quackity agreed.”

“He was making something when I was in earlier.”

“He eats a lot. You’d be surprised how much he can fit inside of him.”

There is a pause. Dream stares at him, dead-eyed, until Punz realises what he’s just said and Sapnap starts cackling. Drista pushes up onto her tiptoes to give Punz the exact same expression that Dream is, over Dream’s shoulder.

“Phrasing.” She says flatly. Punz turns bright pink and does not even try to correct himself for fear of further mocking.

“What do you want to eat?” Punz says, instead of dragging on it. Dream wheezes. Drista rolls her eyes.

“I don’t think you can make specifically mom’s sausage casserole, so how about take-out? I think the chinese place we used to order from on special occasions is still open. Pretty sure we passed it.”

“We… can do that, yeah. D’you know what it’s called?” Punz has an odd look on his face. Dream’s head tilts at him.

“Uh… Golden Phoenix, I think? Dream?”

“I know where it is, I’ll pull it up on Google Maps. Can you go grab Karl so we’re not late to leave?”

“Sure.” Drista shrugs, and off she goes. Once the door closes behind her, Dream turns to Punz and before he can ask,

“You keep your mom’s recipes in your notebook, don’t you?”

Dream smiles a little.

“I do. I have the casserole in there, there’s a meat mains section. Red tab.”

“Got it. Come back here, if you can, we’ll work on it at Quackity’s place. He’s the best cook besides you, anyway.”

“Don’t hound him over it,” Dream makes for the door, and Punz snorts a laugh.

“It was his suggestion. Oh- wait, do you wanna take Plagg?”

Dream hesitates. 

“I… I don’t know.” Quiet. “Drista is taking Xuppu and Nooroo, obviously, but they’re not planning on staying out. I don’t know if the Kwami ever got to meet our parents.”

“We did,” Plagg says, quiet, crawling up onto Punz’s shoulder, “Way, way back. They were kids. My last holder-” he pauses, coughs up a few bubbles. Dream recognises the side effects of trying to name a holder.
“When they were kids,” Plagg says lamely.

“Mom used to tell us that she and dad had been friends since they could barely walk,” Dream muses, “The jewelry we got was from grandma’s side, I think.”

Plagg nods.

“So… who met them, in the end?”

“Me, Fluff, and Barkk. The ones they could pass off as weird pets.”

“You know, this whole conversation boils down to: do you want to go, Plagg?” Punz picks Plagg up off of his shoulder, to a protesting noise from the latter. He stops struggling quickly, uncharacteristic of him. Pollen joins Longg on Sapnap’s shoulder, sharing concerned looks.

“I didn’t really know them,” Plagg says, sounding unsure, “Not the people they were when they died.”

“How well did you know them as kids?” Dream asks, taking a step closer. The door stays closed. Plagg sighs.

“It was a long time ago, Dream- I don’t know, a few years. They stopped believing in Santa, there’s no way they thought I was still a kitten.”

“None of this is an answer,” Punz says gently, wriggling Plagg a little.

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” Dream frowns, “But if you’re unsure, and don’t mind, I- uh. I’d like you with me- I mean, you were my best friend for seven years, and I feel- call me crazy- way safer when you’re there.”

“Safe?” Plagg’s head whips to boggle at him, “Me?”

“That’s why I said call me crazy. It’s true, though.” Dream shrugs, “You were with me through everything. My best friend.”

Plagg makes a noise halfway between pain and a huff.

“If you want me to come, I’ll come.” He says in a tone that lets Dream know that he wants to, he just couldn’t bring himself to say so. It makes sense, Plagg has never really been one to show any sort of weakness, emotional or otherwise.

“Dream!” Drista calls from outside, “You’re gonna make us late!”

“Coming!” Dream yells back. Punz slides the ring off and hands it to Dream, chases it with a quick kiss pressed to his cheek.

“See you later.”

“Love you,” Sapnap adds, and Dream flashes them both a smile as he pulls the door open.

“Love you too. Bye Pollen, Longg.”

They call farewell as he slips out, half-jogs down the stairs to Karl and Drista at the bottom, and they head off to the graveyard, quiet.
Drista and Punz have put together little bunches of flowers, their mom’s favourites, and their dad’s favourite color- blue. But a light, purple-ish blue, more along the lines of cornflowers and forget-me-nots. They each have a bunch for each parent, and Karl fiddles with the curls of one of the ribbons as Dream and Drista scan the headstones looking for their parents’ names.

It’s a strange sort of experience, sitting between the headstones and talking into the air. Karl is quiet for a while as Dream and Drista tell what feels like nothing about everything that has happened, skipping no details. They talk about Ash, about the good, about the bad. They talk about Greece. They talk about Chile. They talk about Canada. They talk about Mexico.

Dream takes Karl’s hand, there, but can’t bring himself to look at him. Karl squeezes in silent reassurance. There is no resentment, not anymore. Maybe there never really was.

The three of them talk about London in turns. About the downfall, about all of their new friends, their new family, and then about losing Ash. About his death. Dream says the words quietly, shaking.

“I killed him.” He tells the air, tears already rolling thick down his cheeks, “There was nothing we could do to save him. Nobody would have understood. It was the kindest thing we- I- ever could have done, and if there’s an afterlife, I hope he’s free wherever he is.”

“I didn’t love him,” Drista adds, voice barely above a whisper, “I don’t think I ever loved him. I never knew him before he was cruel, I didn’t have anything there to love. Does that make me a bad person?”

“No,” Karl says quickly, “It doesn’t. You can mourn what you should have had and never did.”

Drista sniffles wordlessly.

Plagg is quiet through the whole thing, but as they’re getting up, he slips out of Dream’s collar to fly down and settle on the base of their mom’s headstone. Dream doesn’t hear him say anything, but there’s a few long moments of quiet. He leaves that headstone, moves to their dad’s, and repeats the process. Moments of quiet, closed eyes, steady breathing, and he returns to Dream’s collar. Dream feels him shaking with near-silent sobs, and does not point it out.

“We’re going to do better,” Dream tells the air, determined. “I think we’ve found happiness. I know I have.”

“Yeah,” Karl agrees, tucking his hand into Dream’s. “Me, too.”

“You made a new family for us,” Drista nudges him with her elbow, “There’s still people looking out for us. Caring about us. Loving us.”

“What else can we really ask for?” The question is more for Drista than the formless concept of their parents, and she shrugs.

“We can’t. We’re already happy.”

When they get home, Punz isn’t there, but George and Sapnap are. Drista asks about it, and George rolls his eyes.

“Him and Quackity went out for- something. I don’t know, something romantic.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Karl wrinkles his nose, “Those are my boyfriends.”

“Not for each other, nimrod. For you two, obviously.” George rolls his eyes, opens out an arm- Sapnap is tucked under the other. Dream beats Karl to it, and wriggles until he can set his head on George’s chest and stick his tongue out at Karl.

“I’m gonna get the Switch,” Drista says, disappearing, “I have extra joy-cons, we’re gonna play Mario Kart.”

They get very into Mario Kart. So into it that they barely notice how late it’s getting until the sun disappears from the room completely and Drista shivers.

“It’s still so hot. How are you cold?” George laments, missing yet another jump on Mushroom Gorge.

“I’m Floridian, this is cold to me.” Drista replies, and wrinkles her nose. She sets her joy-con down, having already finished the race, and pulls her phone out to check the time.
“Are Punz and Quackity okay? It’s been a while.”

“Uh,” Dream pulls his own phone out. A text from half an hour ago tells him that they’re almost done. “They’re fine, it’s just taking a little longer than they expected, apparently- oh.”

Punz <3 [19:23]
okay we’re ready do you want to come over or are we coming to you cause we might need more hands if we’re meant to come over.

“Oh?” Sapnap asks, and Drista mirrors him, raising an eyebrow.

“They’re back at Q’s, and they want us to go over.”

The race has ended, with George in 7th place. Could’ve been worse, but Drista, Dream, and Sapnap got first, second, and fourth, so…

“Do I have to?” Drista wrinkles her nose, “Wasn’t it meant to be gay?”

“They asked for you, too!” Dream protests, “Maybe they got you something.”

“Fine,” she draws out the I, “Let’s go.”

They put the Switch on standby and lock up to head over. As soon as the door opens, the smell of food hits them in the face.

“No fucking way.” Drista says.

“Language,” George grins, nudging her shoulder, and passing her in the doorway where she’s frozen.

“Hey,” Punz greets, kissing George as he passes, “We know it’s not gonna be exactly the same as your mom’s, but we used her recipe.”

“What.” Drista says quietly, then whips around to Dream, “You knew.”

“I told him where the book was, that’s all,” Dream holds his hands up placatingly.

“It’s gonna get cold if you don’t come fuckin’ eat!” Quackity yells, not visible from the doorway. Sapnap gentle shoves at Drista’s shoulder.

“In,” he demands, and Drista finally manages to half-stumble in.

It isn’t perfect. It’s a little saltier than Dream remembers their mom’s being, but it’s still her recipe, and it’s still made with love. And then they produce a fucking apple and rhubarb crumble and Dream cries a little into his sleeve. There’s even enough food for the Kwami, and it’s just part of their little family gathered around a table, eating, laughing, smiling. They talk about the family back at home in England, about the family they’ve already lost, but there’s no sorrow to it. It’s just love.

It’s Christmas again when Dream does it. 

They celebrate at Foolish’s place again, just as they did last year. Crumb manages to make it physically, if only for an hour and a half, and so Foolish’s bedroom ends up being relegated to teenage hangout, occasionally featuring Sapnap as the local adult man that didn’t mature past sixteen in his sense of humor. Really, none of them did, but he’s Drista’s favourite.

Dream pops his head in a few times, finds Ranboo hanging upside-down off of the bed on his phone, and Kaalki napping in her new favourite spot- Aimsey’s shoulder. Tubbo, Tommy, Stomp, and Xuppu are playing some kind of mini volleyball with a ball of paper, and Crumb and Drista seem to be on Splatoon if the quick competitive calls are anything to go by. Dream looks around for Nooroo, but he doesn’t seem to be in the room. Mullo is watching the game from Crumb’s shoulder, and Wayzz is playing referee to the volleyball match. He catches Dream’s eye, and Dream offers him a sympathetic smile.

“You guys need anything?” Dream asks, and Ranboo drops his phone square on his face in surprise, yelping as he sits up.
“Sorry.”

“I think we’re okay?” Aimsey replies, sounding unsure. They pull Ranboo’s hand from his nose and gently poke it, ensuring it’s neither broken nor bleeding. It isn’t, just sore.
“Ran could probably take an ice pack.”

“I’m fine,” Ranboo says nasally.

“Ice pack,” Dream affirms, “Got it. You good, Dris?”

“Aside from losing? Yeah. Have you seen Nooroo?”

“I have not, but I haven’t checked the Kwami cupboard in a bit. Let you know when I get back.”

He heads toward the main room and the kitchen, and bumps almost straight into Techno on the way.

“Sorry,” Dream huffs, “I’m a physical threat today, apparently.”

He notes that Techno’s eyes are on the ceiling, and does not have to look up to be filled with dread, but does anyway. Ah. Yep. There’s the mistletoe.

“Absolutely fucking not.” Dream says firmly.

“Read my mind.” Techno agrees with a wolfish sort of grin, reaching up to grab for the mistletoe. He’s too short by about an inch, and Dream knows fine fucking well his pride will not let him jump. Dream decides to do something worse, and ducks down a little to wrap an arm around Techno’s back, one around his thighs, and lift. He definitely takes a whack to the head about it, but Techno grabs the mistletoe and rips it down.

“Never do that again,” he tells Dream, with the little upturn to his lips that lets him know there’s no real anger or discomfort behind it. Dream scoffs.

“Got it down, didn’t you?”

“Why does he even need it, anyway? Isn’t he already datin’ Punz? Who else is he after? Karl?”

“Eh, they already make out on a regular basis.” Dream waves a hand, “Don’t think there’s any romance to it.”

“Your relationships are so ridiculously complicated, you have no idea how glad I am I don’t gotta deal with that sorta stuff.”

“Y’know, queer-platonic rel-”

“No.”

“I’m just sayi-”

“Don’t mansplain aromanticism to me, Dream.” Techno pokes him in the shoulder, “That stuff’s not for me. I’m happy as I am, and I’m sayin’ I’m glad I don’t gotta deal with whatever spirograph stuff you’ve got goin’ on in your relationships. It’s free entertainment for me.”

“Aren’t you also a man?”

“Don’t pick the little things to latch onto.”

“Can you mansplain to a man?”

“You’re doin’ it right now.”

“Sorry.”

“S’fine. Seriously, though, why does he need it?”

“I think he just thinks it’s fun,” Dream shrugs, “It is, most of the time. Remember Ranboo and the Hershey’s last year?”

“That was pretty funny.” Techno snorts, “I guess it’s tolerable.”

“It’s not!” Bad slides past them to head into the main room.

“Just ‘cause Skeppy keeps gettin’ you,” Techno snips back lightly.

“Not once!” Bad yells, out of sight. Techno shakes his head.

“‘Kay, I’m goin’ to the bathroom, move.”

Dream plasters himself to the wall and lets Techno pass him. He grabs an ice pack for Ranboo, checks the cupboard they’ve specifically set up to be a quiet Kwami bed- yes, Nooroo is in there, curled up around Duusu. Plagg, too, is in there, and cracks open an irritated eye to peer at Dream, who mouths his apologies and closes the door again.

Once the ice pack is handed off to Ranboo and Drista is assured that Nooroo is fine, Dream heads back into the main room. It looks like they have a game of monopoly going in the back, and Sapnap is losing badly.
Arms wrap around Dream’s waist, and he sighs as he tilts his head back onto Punz’s shoulder.

“Hey, darlin’.” Punz muffles into his collar. Dream snorts.

“You’re catching Sapnap’s Texan.”

“‘M not.” He protests without any heat behind it, and presses a kiss to the edge of Dream’s jaw.

“Y’are.” Dream replies, and wriggles out of his grip only to pull him over to the sofa so they can sit down and cuddle. Or more accurately, so Punz can sit down, and Dream can crawl into his lap.

“Love you,” Punz says quietly as Dream gets comfortable. 

“Love you too.” Dream replies, pressed to Punz’s neck.

They listen to the monopoly game for a while. Phil is acting as the banker with Wilbur hovering over his shoulder, and it looks like Sam and Ponk are currently running the board. Sapnap scoots continuously close to bankruptcy, but manages to stay out of debt to his fellow players, much opposed to Karl who is doing deals every which way. Foolish is a steady third place, chased by Kristin and Fundy. George isn’t doing great, but they weren’t really expecting him to.

5up is cooking in the kitchen. Dream doesn’t understand how he’s cooking barely three hours after an absolutely massive Christmas dinner- which 5up also mostly cooked. Corpse was helping for a while, but the heat and smell seems to have gotten overwhelming, because he’s sat out on the balcony with Tina and Quackity, nursing a migraine. Skeppy and Bad are helping 5up, or… ‘helping’, in Skeppy’s case, because he’s really more causing issues. Techno is back and forth between helping- mostly keeping Skeppy out of the way- and reading whilst perched on the counter.

It’s all just… so calm. Dream falls asleep for a while, in Punz’s lap.

“Merry Christmas, Dream.” True XD greets him.

“I still don’t know what Christmas is.” Other Dream rolls his eyes, already pulling a trail of water from the doorway to coat Real Dream with. Ghostboo reaches out and taps it gently, crystallising it into ice around him in a way that is, at this point, incredibly practiced. True XD pulls him into a hug, the ice crystallising up the side of Real Dream’s face to protect him from the burns.

He pulls back, the ice melts away, and Dream turns to hug Other Dream, too. Then to Ghostboo, who he gently butts heads with in a very brief way. It’s still agonisingly cold, but there’s no real lasting damage, and he knows that Ghostboo prefers it to a hug anyway.

“You’re only here for a quick visit today,” True XD cannot be seen smiling, but he sounds like it, “But I do have some good news for you. At least- good for me.”

“Dubious for me.” Ghostboo laments. Other Dream shakes his head.

“It’s nice to see you, but I’ve got to get back. I’m hosting the New Years party this year, and I need to make sure Wilbur doesn’t try to have a drinking contest with the guy that’s immune to poison again.”

“How many times has he done that?” Real Dream asks, amused.

“Oh, every major holiday.” Other Dream waves a hand, “He knows he’s immune, but still chooses to drink with him. Alright- see you soon!”

He waves as he takes off, and Ghostboo startles.

“I’ll see you to the door.”

They disappear into the stars. Real Dream watches them go before he turns back to True XD.

“Good news?” he prompts.

“Oh. Yes. I- ah- I have mentioned, I believe, that I have not spoken to the First Page- I mean, Karl- since this all began?”

“You’re implied it, for sure.”

“I have called for him before.” True XD sounds wistful, turning toward the curtain of mist, “Many times, I have stood at the border and begged for him, and he has never answered. I thought that I had lost him forever. But the strangest thing- I called for him.”

A pause. True XD seems taken by the shapes dancing in the mist, and when Dream follows his general gaze, he swears he sees the shift of something and the shape of broken cogs in the spirals of vapour.

“I called for him.” True XD says, soft, “And he came.”

“He came?” Dream asks, incredulous, “Like, physically?”

“As physical as it is possible to be. I have missed him so dearly.”

It chokes in a throat that True XD doesn’t have.

“I do not know if I love him the same way that you love your Karl. Even if I did- do- I do not know if he can love me back. Neither of us are whole people any more. But I am happy just to be in his company, even if it is fleeting and irregular.”

“He’s watching.” Dream says quietly, eyes catching on a color-flick of chromatic aberration, “I see him.”

“He is minding you.” True XD says, smile audible. “Just as he minds Ranboo.”

“You sound much happier than the first few times I talked properly with you.” Dream points out, and True XD sighs.

“I am happier. I am not alone any more. I have the privilege to watch you grow, the privilege to call you my brother. It’s… it is fantastic.”

Dream smiles. He feels a tug from the doorway.

“I’m glad you’re happy, brother. I think I have to go- but I’ll see you soon?”

True XD turns from the mist as Dream begins to be pulled back to his world.
“I will see you soon, brother.” 

Seven hands raise from the shadow to wave, and Dream slips over the edge.

He wakes, bleary, to Punz pressing kisses to his hair in an effort to wake him gently. There’s more chatter than there was when he fell asleep, and Dream blinks over at the table to find it being set with plates of food in more of a buffet style than a set dinner. 

“Sorry,” Punz apologises, “I thought you might be hungry. 5up’s cooking is so fucking good.”

“Plagg is already on it.” Dream replies, amused, as Plagg darts down for a mozzarella stick. 5up rolls his eyes, but does hand him a little paper tub of the sauce they have for the sticks.

“Sleep well?”

“I always sleep well with you.” Dream gets to his feet, stretches. Punz follows.

So they eat, and Ranboo and Aimsey leave to walk Crumb home- they could Voyage, but Ranboo mentions he’s getting a little overwhelmed, so they dip from the party a little early.

Slowly, the party winds down. There’s less drinking than last year, so they don’t feel too much concern waving Sapnap and George off with plenty of traded kisses. Sapnap spends a touch too long in Dream’s arms, apparently, because George almost bites him to get his turn, and Punz snorts a laugh when Sapnap flees back to him and sticks his tongue out at George.

Karl is staying the night with Punz and Dream, but does take the chance to walk Corpse and Tina to the station, and since they’re the last to leave, it leaves Foolish, Punz, and Dream alone in the apartment.

They’ve mostly tidied up, and Foolish is a little drunk, so they pack him off to bed with the promise they’ll get the rest of the trash and start on the stains- the big stuff can wait ‘til tomorrow.

In the quiet, in the dim light with all of the Christmas lights and the tree glittering, Dream looks over to where Punz is rinsing out a couple of glasses, and his mind flashes to his jacket hung up in the hall. To the pocket.

“Just a sec,” he tells Punz, and slips out.

He’s been sort of half-planning it for months, but he’s never had a set plan. Just when it felt right, because he knows that Punz isn’t someone that really enjoys the big, showy things like Karl does.

So it’s quiet when he walks back in under the dim lights. Punz has moved to picking up the odd missed J2O bottle and setting them on the side to go to recycling, and he pauses at Dream’s demeanour.

“Are you okay?” Punz tilts his head a little. Dream takes a breath as he crosses the room. The edges of the ring box dig grooves into his palm.

“I love you,” he tells Punz, “And I’m still imagining it. I never stopped imagining it.”

There’s confusion for a moment, but it drops into shock when Dream drops to a knee.

“I think I half proposed a long time ago, but this is me formally asking: Will you marry me?”

The ring looks a lot like the Cat Miraculous. Gold, a little chunky, except instead of a cat’s paw, it’s engraved with a bee. On the inside of the ring, engraved, kindness should be the default.
It’s the first lesson he remembers learning from Punz. The first words he remembers said as the first stone in a long path of blossoming affection.

Punz snorts a laugh.

“Oh, my God. Stay there a second.”

“Punz?” Dream asks as Punz basically sprints out of the room, because that wasn’t an answer. Still, he trusts Punz, and he stays still. He hears scuffling, and a few moments later, Punz reappears looking victorious. He holds something up, and Dream can’t help but laugh.

It’s a fucking ring box.

Of course it is.

“I’ve had it everywhere for the last month, just in case it was right. I guess you’re braver than me.”

“Or stupider. Is that a yes?” Dream stands to meet him, and Punz has not stopped grinning.

“It’s a yes. I wanna be your husband- holy shit.” 

Dream laughs like the rush of emotion didn’t get him, too.

The ring that Punz gives him is simple, a white gold band engraved with a zoetrope-like design of a bee. They have discussed, in the past, giving the Cat Miraculous back, but Dream gave it to Punz as a real, meaningful symbol of his dedication and no mundane ring could ever mean that much.

This is just as sweet. Punz kisses him, he kisses back.

Dream cannot see the future, but the perk of narrating a story is that I can tell you pieces of how their lives will go. I can tell you how Dream finds Punz’s brother, online, in a game of Bedwars. He’s lucky, he finds, as Purpled does not play Bedwars all that much any more.

I can tell you, in brief overview, how they slowly re-opened that bridge of contact. A tentative talk between estranged brothers, heartbroken apologies for being too young and too much of the golden child to understand what was happening until Punz was already gone.

I can tell you that the wedding went well. That Dream chose to be given away, and that Puffy was the one to do it, with a cornflower tucked in the buttonhole of her lapel in stark contrast to the pale greens and whites of the wedding theme. It’s a quiet homage to Dream’s father, as are the rain lilies in the corsage that Niki has.

I can tell you about the house they buy, I can tell you about the back garden apiary, about the bakery, about Sapnap’s graduation, but all that I can tell you is that all of these things happened. And I can tell you that they are happy, and that happiness expands, and expands, and expands.

Dream cannot see the future, but he knows that it will all be okay, and that is so much more than enough.