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It’s cool, shady, and surprisingly quiet inside. Five or six dogs huff and lol lazily in the play area, which is a large pen in the center of the cafe filled with chew toys and dog baskets. It’s serene, peaceful - they’re the only customers there, and even the counter and coffee machine is quiet.
“Two ice lattes, please,” Dream orders, as the Corinthian walks close to the pen and peers in. A goldendoodle notices him and wags its tail invitingly.
There’s a soft touch on the Corinthian’s shoulder.
“Have a seat, Tom. I’ve got the drinks.”
The Corinthian turns to see Dream already at a table, chatting with the barista.
“We double as a doggy daycare on slower days like these,” the barista, Olla, says. “We have a structured programme and everything, so the dogs have some routine when they’re here. These bunch here are the regular ones, they’re dropped off regularly when their owners go to work.”
“They’re all very well behaved,” Dream observes.
Olla chuckles. “Yes, they’re surprisingly calm today. I suppose it’s the cool weather. They’re supposed to be having indoor play time now, and they’re usually a little rowdier then. Nap time comes a bit later. Are you interested in registering here too? Any dogs of your own?”
"Just one. An extra large thing by the name of Rascal,” Dream replies, and the Corinthian quickly sips his drink to stifle an indignant cough.
Olla lights up. “Oh! Do you really? He sounds adorable. Go on, tell me about him!”
The Corinthian decides to take another walk around the pen. The goldie is trying to get his attention, after all.
But he can’t help but overhear - or is Dream deliberately speaking just a tad bit louder as the nightmare walks to the far side of the pen?
“He’s just the dearest thing to me. I’ve had him since birth. I say he’s a rascal because he keeps getting into trouble but really he’s the sweetest.”
“Does he get along well with Tom?” Olla asks, and ah, the Corinthian can’t help but feel a little satisfaction. Yet another successful believer in their cover as a friendly gay couple that kept to themselves, a story the Corinthian had carefully built and filled in over the months so he could do things like buy their house and get a human job without too many questions asked.
Dream laughs.
“Tom thinks the world of Rascal. He’s always taking Rascal’s side!”
“Erik exaggerates,” the Corinthian drawls. “Rascal is strong, smart and loyal. You just need to understand him.”
Dream’s expression softens.
“Yes. He is. I often catch myself thinking that I don’t deserve Rascal.”
Dream has no business saying things like that in public. The Corinthian drops his gaze back to the dogs. There’s an enormous samoyed standing with the goldendoodle now. They’re both looking at him and wagging their tails hopefully.
Gods, between Dream being all soft and the large fluffy dogs, the fluff is overwhelming him. How on earth had he, the strongest nightmare in all creation, sunk so low?
Because his creator had decided to visit a dog cafe, of all things, and make mean remarks about the Corinthian. He notices that he’s already reached a hand out, and two wet noses are already bumping encouragingly on his palm.
“Olla, is it alright if Tom goes in?” Dream asks suddenly. “He’s very gentle, he’ll be good.”
“Oh! Yes of course. It’s play time for them, anyway. I usually let them out around the cafe if there are more people, but they were being lazy today.”
The Corinthian ignores how warm he suddenly feels. He’ll be good. It sounds casual like that, fit for public, but he knows Dream meant it for him.
A chair scrapes behind him as Dream rises. He goes close to the Corinthian, under the pretext of being interested in the dogs too.
“Go on, little one,” he murmurs, and unlocks the pen.
The Corinthian feels himself getting red. He makes doubly sure Olla can’t see his face as he enters the pen and clicks it shut behind him. But he needn’t have worried - two large fluffy bundles descend upon him immediately and he goes down to meet them, running his hands through their beautiful glossy coats as they dance around him. Gods, but they’re happy to have a new friend. The others are running up to greet him too and really, every single one looks more like a teddy bear than a dog.
Also, gods, he’s going to kill Dream for treating him like this. For putting him in a pen with all the other dogs, and what kind of stupid name is Rascal, anyway? Trust Dream to get the important things wrong. He’s just going to have to come up with a damned name himself. Oh, but the dogs are warm, and so fluffy. And they’re so happy. They’re pushing him around with their noses and sharing their toys with him, and they very clearly want to be his friend.
He’s never quite had this reception, or friends to boot, in the Dreaming.
When he turns around, Dream is standing by the fence glimmering quietly at him. Smug bastard looks so knowing. He’s going to smack that look right off his face.
Dream and Olla return to their seats, leaving the Corinthian and the dogs to entertain themselves.
By the time nap time rolls around, the Corinthian is fast asleep, a fluffy bundle tucked under each arm.