Chapter Text
He sits up in a cloud of his own sweat, chest churning like a lobe pump, feet and face freezing cold. Everything's pink. Steven breathes and the glow starts to dim. The dream is branded to his eyelids, so it comes as a surprise when Lion licks his face again.
Steven unfolds from his curl in the back seat. He blinks away the crescent of Cookie Cat's teeth. "Hey, buddy," he says, wiping off on his shoulder. "How'd you get the door open?"
Lion bumps Steven's arm with his nose. Steven scratches his head, avoiding the puppy-dog eyes he knows his pet is deploying. He gathers himself up in the Dondai. Steven snags the blanket from where he'd kicked it and tucks his feet in. He shivers as they start to warm.
The windshield and front windows are still frosted-glass foggy, but the back is cooling clear steadily. Gibbous moon. He can see Homeworld. Lion has managed somehow to pull open the locked door – which he really hopes isn't permanent damage, that would be just his luck – and now has a foot on the bowed-forward front seat, his head practically in Steven's lap. There's a glimpse of his pillowcase past Steven's best friend's pink mane, dirtying on the department store parking lot.
Steven steps on empty take-out trash getting out, shooing Lion back. Lion complies, staring at him still, tail thrashing. Steven winces at the sound of crushed plastic. The pillowcase endures a quick pat-down and toss into the back. Steven looks at the RV to his right, but the windows are solid black. The parking lot street lamp winks off and on. A cool breeze resolves the sweaty Dondai funk to sour sea salt. He flips the front seat back up and sits down, sandals flat on the parking lot.
Steven buries his face in his palms. He exhales.
Lion makes a sound and noses him. Steven lets the big cat worm his way back into his lap, and feeds five fingers into his mane.
"Mhm," he says. Lion talks to him again, grumbling miscellaneous catspeak. Steven laughs against the heel of his hand.
"I'm okay, Lion," Steven says. "Just a bad dream."
Lion says, "Grrrarorow?" Which probably means, like, Really? Again?.
"Yeah, yeah. I know." Lion gives him the eyes again. He pushes his head back into place when Steven turns it, so Steven lowers his other hand and rubs Lion's cheeks until he can't keep them open any more. Lion snorts wet cat-breath in his face. "Thanks, bud. Must have been something I ate."
He can't get one over on Lion, though, who's known Steven as long as Connie and probably better from sharing a bedroom for four years. Steven receives another whiny admonishment before Lion shuts up. He's warm, and real to hold. His mane is gentle on Steven's face. When Lion breathes, Steven can feel it in his elbow.
The streetlight goes out again. Lion sits with him like that, silent, until it turns on.