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Ink has noticed his boss' tension as of late. And it's not something he's very fond of.
The meme squad had really been going all out this week with their pranks and other nonsense, so it was understandable how frustrated his boss must have been to be so close yet so far from catching his wacky brother.
He could remember the last Monday, it being a Friday evening right now, when Nightmare had come barging in with Error and Cross, claiming that he'd go absolutely haywire this week to apparently celebrate him and Cross hooking up. Honestly, Ink would be lying if he said he was expecting them to get together. He knew those two were pretty close, but never in Ink's life would he have expected the two to start dating.
And obviously, Dream was less than happy to be interrupted by his brother. Ever since then, he'd seen his boss shooting through the sky on multiple occasions, calling out Nightmare's name in utter rage. Ink would have found it funny, if it didn't end in Dream sitting so stiffly in his seat, mindlessly writing away on his contracts and files with clear bags under his eyes. Although he had seen that face more then once, it wasn't his main focus.
No, what really caught Ink's attention, was Dream's wings.
Usually they'd be so pristine and well kept, shining gorgeously with every smooth flicker of a feather in the wind. Now though, they were completely disheveled, feathers scrunched as some of them even fell from his wings, creating a little mess of them on the ground. His wings had become duller too, and were rested in an awkward and clearly uncomfortable position from the way Dream kept shifting and flexing his back.
Even as Ink sat on the couch in his Boss' office with nothing to do, he kept sneaking unappreciative glances towards said person, who blew a strand of hair from his face as his wings twitched and rustled minutely, obviously trying to rid themselves of their tenseness.
"You seem rather tense, Boss." It was about time Ink had brought it up, the way his boss looked so displeased and miserably dull just didn't sit right with him. "It appears so, Ink." Dream hummed, taking a moment to rub at his eyes before he planted his palm against his cheek, elbow on the desk as he continued to write, the occasional mumble floating from under his breathe.
Ink huffed, sitting up from where he was and crossing his arms. "Really?" Dream spared him a glance, sighing as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I understand what your implying Ink, but I need to finish my work." He responded with a tired tone.
"Not even a break, typical you." Dream lightly scoffed at that, wings furrowing up and moving about, the miniscule flash of discomfort passing the tan man as Ink deadpanned at him. "This is just so miserable to watch." Ink grumbled. "I assume so." Was the response he got.
As Dream went on to grab another file full to the messy brim of papers, Ink let his magic crackle up a bit, forcing a pencil out of the cup at the edge of Dream's desk and pressing it against the folder, moving it away. Dream's hand twitched as he spared him a disapproving glance, frown deepening as he instead went for a different folder.
Ink just repeated his action.
"Ink." Dream huffed in a warning tone, said artist feeling a smirk curl at his lips. "Yes, boss?" He spoke as Dream shot his hand out for the file, but Ink just continued to move it out of his reach. "Don't start this." Dream hissed, but Ink merely rolled his eyes. "Then take a break." He mused as Dream stood up and lunged for the papers. Ink used two pencils to hold onto the folder, shooting it off the desk and hovering just a few inches in front of Dream, who now was growing annoyed at Ink's antics.
"Ink, I swear to god don't," Dream jumped for the the folder, knocking more papers and the cup of pens and pencils to the ground in his hassle, collecting a hiss out of him as he jumped over his desk, the folder being always a few inches out of his reach. "Don't do this to me!" He all but huffed.
"Like I said. Take a break first." Ink said as he practically strung Dream all around the room, forcing him to chase after the documents he held hostage from the winged human. The moment Dream was at the opposite end of the couch from where Ink was, the pencils let go of the document, zipping back and pulling Dream by his jacket, the blonde yelping as he fell back onto the couch, wings fluttering with the sporadic behavior of a flickering outlet spark.
He crashed onto the couch with a grunt, flipping over on his stomach to look up and send Ink a glare. "What is the meaning of this Ink?" Dream asked as said person stood from where he was, walking over and sitting next to Dream, crossing his arms and swinging one leg over the other. "Your taking a break, whether you like it or not. Your tense as shit and it's bugging the hell out of me."
Dream sighed and planted his elbow against the cushion, holding his head as he shut his eyes. "Fine, just this one night though." He finally gave in, Ink letting a smile grace his face at the statement. "Well, I can only think that you have something in mind."
"Yeah, are your wings alright?" Dream pursed his lips, glancing away as his wings twitched pathetically from where they were curled up on his back. "I can give you a message." Ink suggested, and Dream rose an eyebrow. "Do you even know how to do that?" "Of course, I wouldn't be suggesting if I didn't know how to."
Dream gave him a blank face. "Boss. Just take off your top." Ink rolled his eyes, he could visibly see Dream's cheeks dust in embarrassment. "Jesus Christ, no Ink. I'm not doing that." Ink stared at him, Dream staring right back at him. It took a while, but finally Dream caved.
"Oh my- fine! I'll do it." Dream sat up, shrugging off his jacket and bunching it up before letting it drop to the floor next to the couch. "Shirt too." "I know, Ink." Dream hesitated for a moment, the soft blush on his cheeks growing stronger as he pulled off his shirt as well.
Ink had to say though, the guy definitely didn't skip being athletic.
He had what Ink could describe as the build of a swimmer, nice and firm yet lean and agile. If it were any normal person, they'd be swooning on the spot from seeing a guy as (admittedly) hot as his own boss, topless in front of them. Not Ink though, he was far from normal.
Although he definitely was having a gay panic in his mind from how fucking spicy Dream looked (which was pretty evident from the way his boss gave him a slightly perplexed expression, despite being incapable of understanding why the hell Ink's emotions suddenly went awry), he was more focused on the task at hand. Ink gestured to the couch, Dream sighing through his nose before he laid against the cushion, head buried in his arms.
"Why did I agree to this?" Dream muttered, more to himself then anything but Ink still heard him, a smirk arching on his face. "Dunno, why do you agree to anything I say?" Ink retorted as he got in position beside Dream, making sure to be careful around his wings. "Let's just get this over with." Dream grumbled.
Ink nodded, and proceeded to begin.
He went for Dream's shoulders first, pressing soft and firm on the smooth skin and rubbing slow circles. Dream stiffened ever so slightly at the unfamiliar contact, no doubt it probably being his first time experiencing something like this, but he slowly slumped again as his eyes closed. Ink pressed on smoothly, slowly feeling the tenseness began to dissipate as he made his way around.
Ink could feel how soft Dream's skin was, practically plush despite his physical appearance. Shoulder blades came next, but it didn't need much work since they weren't as bad as the rest of Dream's back. He glanced up at Dream's face after a moment, only to blink in a bit of surprise.
He looked so serene, a soft smile now gracing his lips as his breathing began to even out. It's not like he was falling asleep, but he was definitely relaxing into this a whole lot faster then Ink predicted. He had barely even started as well.
So the artist continued on, the soft press of his thumbs to Dream's upper back, deep rolls with his palms as the tension residing there let up gradually. It was nice actually, to finally see his boss so calm and at peace, and just not stressing about anything at the moment. Ink would definitely be a liar if he said he didn't find it cute, maybe even adorable. How the hell could Lord Dream pull off being cute and hot at the same time? He really didn't know, but damnit he did not regret getting this opportunity.
It had been about ten minutes of messaging, and it was a miracle Ink wasn't tired yet. But in that while he had been skirting Dream's wings, still a bit unsure if he should go for them. Sure, he said he was, but thinking about it now, he didn't know how sensitive Dream's wings were. What if he didn't react well to them being touched? Welp, Ink will just have to find out now.
And boy did he not expect this reaction.
Ink had glided his hand up to the tip of Dream's right wing, pressing his thumb down and running nice little circles at the tip. And Lord Jesus did Dream melt! His entire body was like jelly from what Ink could see, one arm now slung off the couch with his fingers barely touching the ground. Somehow his expression had gone more peaceful than ever as he shivered, the same smile becoming more giddy then anything as his wings practically went limp, forcing Ink to gently hold the one he was working on up a bit, but he managed to lay it against his lap.
Ink felt himself bare a smile, but who wouldn't when someone like Dream had the expression of some teenage girl daydreaming about her highschool crush? Weird phrase to think in a situation like this, but it really did look like it and Ink was starting to regret not bringing a phone or camera.
"You okay there, Boss?" Ink asked as he thumbed the tip of Dream's wing, slowly running it down in continuously patterned movements. The only response the other gave was some babbled nonsense, his wing pressing closer to Ink's talented hand as a way of telling to not stop.
The artist couldn't help but let out a miniscule chuckle, continuing on with messaging Dream's wing, his boss shivering in delight from time to time as he went along. Coming to the mid-section, Ink perked up when he heard a very noticeable noise escape Dream.
Was that...a chirp?
Like, a legitimate, bird fucking chirp??
Running two fingers through the mid-section again proved Ink's thoughts as more happy, babbled chirps fluttered out from Dream. Geez, he knew Lord Dream had bird-like wings, but the traits of a bird too? Beautiful, absolutely fucking beautiful. The warmth returned to his cheeks, feeling his heart and soul pound like a million tiny bullets in his head as he continued to absentmindedly comb and press his fingers through Dream's wings.
Honestly, ten out of ten Ink would do this every chance he got. He needed more of this, it was just too fucking cute for it to be a one time thing. As Ink continued on, going further and further down to the base, more chirps would come from Dream as he melted and shivered at every beautifully gentle sensation.
And when Ink reached the base, this man fucking died of delight.
A long, much appreciated sigh slipped Dream's soft lips, his wings twitching in happiness as his entire body relaxed until it couldn't anymore, the faint chirps raising in volume significantly, so much so Ink actually wondered if the entire castle could hear him. Even his face was covered in a golden blush, so bright and vivid, Ink could confidently say it was the most genuine golden color he had ever seen in his life. No amount of gold paint or golden bar could shine and sparkle as bright as the blush on his face. Ink's own face flushed just as bright, but he doubted it would ever be as beautiful as Dream's.
Ink loved it somehow. He loved every second of it, and he just wanted to see more.
Hands down, wing massages will now become the thing he looks forward to the most in his entire life, if he could see his boss like this more.