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Being a raven was fucking wild. He had wings! And feathers! And the colors! He couldn't have described it if anyone asked, but the world looked different as a raven. Some things had a sort of glow, or the colors weren't what he was used to. Leaves, for example. Green, right? Nope. A thin shade of… burgundy?... coated the tops of the flat leaves that shivered on the tree he was sitting in. If he was a human he would have been cold, but now the cold breeze merely ruffled his feathers.
It was cold because it was stormy, and it was stormy because the Boss was in a surly mood. It was the Dream King's own fault. The Endless lord didn't have to pick fights with Lucienne, but whenever he did he ended up sulking for hours before dragging himself back to the Library to apologize. Sometimes Matthew wondered why Lucienne put up with it. But then… sometimes he understood.
Lord Morpheus was infuriating. He was passionate and determined and emotional. Wherever he went people looked at him. How could they not? The thing was, the Boss was sexy, no two ways about it. Matthew had always appreciated the beauty of both men and women, though he had sort of assumed that would no longer be an issue after he died. Who could have predicted he would become a fucking raven and the assistant to the personification of dreams or whatever Dream was, or that Matthew would fall in love with the guy?
Love was a strong word, but Matthew had known it as soon as he'd seen Dream, pale and fragile, fall to the floor of Lucifer's palace. Getting trapped in Hell would have sucked but the thought of losing Dream had held far more terror. Funny, since he hadn't known Dream for more than a couple hours, but hey, love at first sight was a thing, right?
Not that he could do much about it. He was – and he could not stress this enough – a fucking bird. Dream was not. Probably. Hmmm. Matthew considered this. Could Dream turn into a bird? Was bird sex a possibility? That would be too weird, right? Right. He stowed that thought for later and turned his beady raven eyes to Dream, who was currently moping in the field of Fiddler's Green. His long robe and his wild fluff of hair were black, though with a faint iridescence that Matthew wasn't sure his human eyes would have been able to pick out, and the faint shimmer was striking to see.
Matthew hesitated. In this mood, it might be better to leave the Boss alone. Below, the angry wind whipped the long robe around Dream's slender frame, making him look small and vulnerable. Human. Fuck it. Matthew took wing, battling the windy currents so he could circle above Dream's head.
"Hey, Boss!"
Dream looked up, starry eyes flashing, then held out his arm. Matthew perched, grateful; he hadn't mastered riding the wind yet.
"Matthew," Dream acknowledged. The tiniest of smiles softened his sharp face. His dark hair fluttered in the wind, and Matthew noticed some small leaves caught in the uncombed mess. He hopped along Dream's arm to rest on Dream's shoulder, then carefully picked out the leaves with his beak. For a moment he missed his human hands. If he had them he would have run his fingers through the soft hair, mussing it even more, and oh god, he was head over heels for this idiot. The wind quieted to a light breeze.
Now that he was close to Dream he couldn't think of what to say, so instead he settled himself against the side of Dream's head, almost nuzzling him. They walked in silence, Dream deep in thought while Matthew internally panicked. Would Dream appreciate a joke? Or random chatter? Uncertain he decided to stay quiet until Dream spoke, and let himself enjoy being carried around on Dream's shoulder. It was nice. Not exciting or anything, not like they were getting high off their asses and having drug-fueled sex, but nice. Baby steps. Ride his shoulder now and maybe later he'll let you ride other things.
The storm slowly faded until streaks of blue were visible beyond the sullen clouds, and after a time Dream paused at the edge of the Green. "Thank you, Matthew."
Matthew cocked his head. "I didn't do anything. CAW! "
"Your presence was enough."
Oh. Matthew puffed his feathers proudly. He would have smirked if he'd had lips.
He tightened his grip as Dream's shoulder shifted, and Dream reached up and touched Matthew's back. Long, slender fingers gently stroked along the pattern of Matthew's feathers from the back of his neck to the start of his tail. Matthew shivered. Emboldened, he butted his head against Dream's palm. Dream's fingers stilled then resumed petting in a light and soothing rhythm. Screw the Silver City, this was heaven. Matthew closed his eyes, huddled against Dream's hair.
They were interrupted by a deep rumble that spread across the Green in a low ripple. Matthew opened his eyes, alarmed. "What was that?" He fluttered his wings, nervous. Another dream vortex?
Dream sounded amused. "Fiddler's Green. He is reminding us that we are not alone."
Irritated, Matthew clacked his beak. Why couldn't the stupid meadow let him get horny with the Boss in peace?
"I have been remiss," Dream murmured. "I have duties to attend to."
Fuck you, Fiddler's Green. I'm going to shit all over your precious leaves! "Oh, yeah," Matthew said, as casually as he could. "I have bird stuff to do. Flying around…." That was it. There wasn't much to do as a bird in the Dreaming. Maybe he could go pester Merv. First, though, he had to figure out how to take care of the dirty thoughts crowding his head. Maybe he could find a raven in the waking world who would let him work off his sexual frustration.
"Later, Boss!" Matthew eyed the trees and the clear sky, then, after daring an affectionate nip on the edge of Dream's ear, he spread his wings and took flight.