Our favourite dysfunctional couple is back 😍

Killer felt as if he'd been dunked into a fish tank. His movements were sluggish as he shifted on the sheets, his vision blurred by sweeping waves that bore resemblance to ripples in water. Breathing was difficult too, chest shuddering in heaving gasps as he ran a hand across his face.

My god-

Above him Dream grunted, his fingers slowly relaxing from around the assassin's throat as he breathed in deeply. The night was finally silent except for the sound of their own breaths, the room hot and stifling despite the cold temperature outside. For a brief moment their eyes met and Killer groaned, managing a wonky smile up at the Guardian who scowled.

"You- you enjoyed that.." He mumbled, a hand raising for a moment to rest on Dream's jaw before his wrist was grabbed and pinned sharply above his head, earning a muted gasp. "Round two already? Ah you're.. really addicted to me."

Scoffing Dream released him, pulling out of the man beneath him to hear a strangled moan followed by silence. "You're the one that's addicted, coming back to my house every other night just to be fucked like some rentable whore."

"And yet you don't pay me." Killer rolled over and cringed at the feeling of his sticky thighs pressing together and rubbing. His body ached, pelvic area sore and spine stinging. Dream really knew how to break him in the best of ways.

"And I never will." The skeleton stood up to clean himself off, eyes flicking over the other as he weakly dragged the sheets over his bruised body. "You're not sleeping here, Killer."

"Mm.. I know.." He murmured, snuggling under it with a loud yawn. "I just wanna rest for a moment, c'mere.."

Arching a brow he stepped round the bed to watch as Killer sleepily reached for him. "We're not a domesticated couple, stop acting so shamelessly." None the less he stepped over to get into his own bed, his weight dipping the mattress slightly as he settled to face him. It was becoming less and less of an odd sight to see Killer naked in his bed with each passing night, but the image of him getting comfy under his covers as if he were his long standing partner of two years just back from work to sleep with him, it was strange and he didn't quite like it.

"Can I stay the night?" It was a sleepy mutter, one he already knew the answer to.

"Not in this bed."

A smile twitched at his lips and he nodded, silvery pupils flicking across his face hazily, studying him. "Yessir, just give me fifteen minutes to remember where my legs are."

"Five minutes." They always played this game, the back and forth pushing with timings and requests. Dream always won in the end of course, he couldn't have the smaller make such requests in his own household. "You're hardly crippled."

"You'd understand if you'd just had your brains fucked out." His tone was sour, though had expected some sort of rude remark anyway. Shifting on the sheets he buried himself under them deeper, letting out a slow breath. Dream's bedroom was simply comfortable, always warm and oddly consolidating in the moments when he managed to weasel his way under the covers for five minutes or so. He knew he'd most likely never be allowed to sleep a full night in the double bed, forced to limp to the spare room on the occasion when he was allowed to stay. Nights like tonight. It was so much nicer than having to stagger all the way back to Nightmare's residence and hide himself in his room from the other's questions. They were already suspicious enough, they really didn't need to see his awful limp and hazy expression as he recalled how Dream (the enemy)  had railed him within an inch of his life.

"It's something I don't care to imagine." His golden pupils studied the smaller skeleton, lingering over the dark bruises that littered his shoulder blades and peaked down to his cherry ecto below. Leaving hickeys on the faux flesh was so fun to Dream, to mark up another's body so carelessly to leave marks that'd last weeks. The main advantage was that marks on an ecto body would disappear once un-summoned to avoid anyone seeing anything, yet when it was formed again the lingering signs of the last session would paint your body in all its glory. He liked to mark Killer, it made him feel like an object, his own little possession.

"I could have bet money you'd say that - I know you so well. In fact I might be the number one Dream expert." He smirked lazily, pursing his lips for a moment. "Like I know you wouldn't give me a kiss if I asked, not even a goodnight one."

Dream was silent to his words for a while, clicking his tongue. "Ink is the number one Dream expert, you'll have to take.. fourth place." The kissing comment went ignored. To kiss Killer would be too intimate, too much emotion and words could be said through a kiss, things that he didn't want passing between the two of them, ever.

"Forth? I'll need to work harder." He rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling for a moment, face twisting in momentary discomfort at the new position before he settled. "Hey, I have a question."

"Let me cut down your options; no, you can't sleep here in my bed, no I won't kiss you, no I won't get you a glass of water or food, and no you can't stay late in the morning."

"Ouch." A snicker left the assassin and he shook his head. "Don't be so uptight, I wasn't going to ask you any of those things. Nah it's a more deep question."

"Oh dear." The guardian sighed and shifted a little to stare at him, lazily tugging his blanket off of Killer and getting comfy under it himself. Why should he get all the comfort when it was his house, his bed and his blankets? "Fire away then, ask the question, I'm all ears."

"Alright I'm curious, as you've made it clear that you think of me now as being only a 'rent-a-whore, what was your initial thoughts of me?" His gaze moved from the ceiling to the other. "Like, in our first meetings in battle."

"My first impression of you?" He seemed surprised by the question, thinking for a long moment. "Well.. I suppose, ah, give me a second." He let his mind wonder back, entertaining Killer's question - it wouldn't hurt to answer. "To be fair, I thought you were a pain. You slunk around behind Nightmare - who was my primary target - and then never let me come near him because I was too busy having to fight you. You were relentless, never giving me a moment to even consider battling anyone else. I suppose I thought you were sly and sneaky; which you still are. And you were fast, really fast - I could level you with long distance fighting, but the moment it came to close combat you and those knives of yours would nearly get the best of me every time." He recalled battles, scenes of the assassin twisting his body to avoid his firing arrows and shooting forwards to knock him to the ground, a knife at his throat. Yet every time, in each opportunity to kill him, he hadn't. "You were like a predator, playing with his food." He muttered, watching him. "Yet in every opportunity to kill me, you didn't. Why?"

Killer's mouth twitched into a wide grin. "Isn't it obvious? As you said; I was playing with you. Well, I suppose it started a while back - my interest in you. I'll be real before I met you I hated you, because Y'know, Nightmare enforces that idea into your mind quite early on - tells stories about you, Ink and Blue and hypes you up to be this big enemy we needed to get rid of. So I had this big vision of you, and then we met and it was all.. changed? I can't explain it. You seemed so stoic and stone like with your weapons and cold demeanour that my first thought was 'I would love to be the one to make that man break', and that's why I targeted you, chased you and fought you, because I wanted to be the one that would strike you down and see that calm persona torn away into fear and terror. I suppose I didn't quite manage that, but I'm getting close, aren't I? I'm seeing more vulnerable sides to you."

"You are most certainly not." He grunted, lip curling in disgust at the mere thought of 'breaking' beneath Killer. In his sick dreams maybe, but not reality. "And that then turned into the desire to be my whore?"

"Not just like that, you make me sound so lowly. It was with each failed attempt in battle that I realised you weren't likely to break through fear of my blades - even when I had them to your throat you simply stared at me, eyes betraying nothing. It was almost disappointing in a way, but I was still determined. And then with each fight my desires turned a little more sexual. I still wanted to tear your bravery and confidence away, but also was curious to know if you could do the same to me, if you know what I mean."

Dream scoffed, almost amused by his words. "I think I've certainly done that, don't you?"

"Mh, I don't know, maybe your attempts have been a little half-assed tonight." He grinned and ducked the hit aimed for him, shoving the blankets into his face to effectively blind and smother the other so he could make a rather undignified escape, fingers scrabbling to grab his clothes as he wobbled around the bed.

"Consider yourself lucky I don't snap your spine-" Dream hissed once having wrestled free of the sheets, expression a dagger that felt like nothing but a weak tickle to the other.

"Oh daddy please~" He mocked, struggling into his shirt and poking his tongue out lewdly at him, eyes rolled back in a ahegao. It took a lot of his composure to not make his legs shake as he stood.

Standing in the silhouette of his doorway, half naked, Killer looked quite good, the curve of his hip and round of his thighs sharp against the hall light behind him. Dream almost had a half mind to order him back into the bed and bite those thighs until he begged for no more, fucked him until he felt his spine truly snap. That would teach him. But he resorted to grabbing the pillow, the soft mound being flung at the other.

"Get out."

"Already on it." He winked at him and waved, blowing a kiss soon after as he ducked the flying object with a delightful laugh that had Dream's cheeks tint. Killer's laugh could be more like a cackle, the type that villains do before describing their master plan. It was rare that he ever heard it. As quick as the thought came it was dismissed, Dream's scowl deepening. "Enjoy the needles and staples I littered across the bed."

"You're so thoughtful-!" Killer's voice rang out in down the hallway, the assassin snickering as he ignored the other's yell to close the bedroom door. Bare except for his shirt he made his way to the bathroom, closing the toilet lid and sinking down on top of it with a groan. It had taken a lot of composure to not collapse when walking; his legs felt like cooking spaghetti, slowly losing stiffness and resistance with each second that he took a step.

Looking down at his body he arched a brow, ankles moving to show off more of his bitten thighs. They were everywhere, crawling up his faux flesh like a stain - quite a pretty stain at that. He'd quickly realised with the passing nights that Dream really liked his thighs, biting, scratching and bruising them whenever he had the chance. He wasn't exactly opposed.

Tearing a roll of toilet paper he wrapped it around his hand over and over before running it under the tap, soggy paper wiping away at the sins across his lower region. The session had certainly been messy. What he really wanted was a shower, but he doubted he'd be able to stand for long enough, and Dream probably wouldn't approve of him using his shower without permission. Perhaps in the morning he'd ask but for now he simply used what he had at hand, ignoring the towels as he remembered the guardian had a fit last time his dark tears and fluids had left the white towel 'un-saveable' in Dream's words.

It was messy and a rather slow process but eventually Killer deemed himself clean and dry enough to sleep. His tears he left be, knowing they'd only leak more through the night in the afterglow, he might as well scrub them all off in the shower in the morning.

With a limp almost comical he left the bathroom, the light flicking off. A brief glance down the corridor saw that Dream had been forced to shut the door himself (something that made him grin) as he shuffled to the spare room. In the moment he considered clambering in bed beside him, ignoring his hisses and threats until he fell asleep with him. But he decided against it and went to the single room, ignoring the open curtains and window. Dream would most likely wake him up long before the light of dawn would to have him kicked out of the house with 'his tail between his legs' as it were.

A few steps closer and he realised that the bed had been freshly made, new sheets and covers, the pillows plumped. Dream had remade it, maybe with the intent for Killer to sleep in it. The thought made his cheeks warm, arm pulling back the sheets before he collapsed into the bed. Ah it was comfy, body snuggling under the blankets and digging his skull into the pillow. He'd stain it grey, but that was okay - in the moment when he started drifting off, he couldn't care less.

—————

Surprisingly it was the sunlight that woke Killer from his deep slumber, the expected of Dream shoving and pushing him having not materialised. Killer's first thought as his eyes cracked open was that he wished he'd closed the curtains, mentally cursing past him for believing the guardian would be so predictable.

He considered burying himself under the blankets and hiding from the sun to fall back asleep, but he knew that if he did then Dream would truly wake him up and give him an earful. Groggily pushing himself up to sit he stared across the room, his eye sockets feeling sticky and heavy with the black slime that clogged them. His bones felt stiff as cardboard and his skull spun like a wash basin. Oh he felt disconnected from reality for a good moment.  Last nights treatment was sharp on his bones.

Glancing to the clock on the bedside table he felt a slight smile twitch at his mouth. 7:32 AM. Dream hadn't specified a time he had to be out of the house, but last time it had been at 7 am he had to leave - perhaps he was being more lenient this time. That or the ancient beast was still asleep in his cave.

Swinging his feet over the edge of the bed he realised that he was only wearing a shirt, the worn white fabric draping down to loosely brush over the curve of his pelvic bone in a way that felt ticklish. A quick search located his shorts at the bottom of the bed and he snatched them up. As much as he was sure Dream wouldn't mind seeing him walk around the house near-naked, he felt it was best for the case of his diminishing pride if he didn't.

Unsteadily he slowly stood, the balls of his feet making contact with the ground and sending shoots of pain up both his legs and burn sharply. Killer only had one issue with being rawed by Dream, and that was the pain and aches in the aftermath. They were never too much or too overwhelming, but a right pain when he wanted to walk out the next day and go on missions. Last week he'd had to pretend to be hit badly by Dream to explain why he was walking like he had some awful bone disease. He wished he could wake up the next day lively and bright, full of energy and without a pain to care.

Each step to the door was slow and shaky, little penguin steps, as if he'd never walked before. It was embarrassing, truly. It only took a mortifying 45 seconds to get to the door, fingers curling around the handle to tug it open. He was pleased to see that Dream wasn't waiting outside to mock him, or to tell him that he wasn't allowed to use his shower. Because he'd use it whether Dream wanted or not.

Timing it in his head Killer was pleased to note that the trek from the bedroom to the bathroom one door down and across took only 12 seconds. Yes, maybe he could do it in three seconds in regular circumstances, but these were difficult times. Once inside he was quick to lock the bathroom door, grinning. Now Dream couldn't get him out. Perhaps the concept of teleportation had fled his scrambled mind along with the knowledge that it would take two seconds for the guardian to appear, grab him and force him out. But that was no matter; he was busy wrapped up in his own little bubble of self confidence.

The shower was large, hanging over a wide bath tub that stood proudly in the corner. The room was spotless, truly, and Killer (only for a second) felt complied to clean his own bathroom back at home. You see, the mansion he laid residency at must have had at least nine bathrooms, and with five permanent residents, they had the room for a bathroom each. Killer's was smaller than Dream's a little poky and odd with deep forest green tiles that ran around the room. He could certainly admit he hadn't taken the best care of it - but at least it wasn't as disgusting as Horror's bathroom, or even Dust's. Of course Nightmare's and Cross' were always clean, with the soldier being quite the clean freak - when he got bored and had nothing to do, he'd clean. Maybe Killer should start trying that.

Stepping into the tub he wrestled off his shirt, tossing it to the side and staring up at the shower eagerly, fingers grasping the handles and twisting. The moment the water hit him he nearly shrieked, staggering back quickly to avoid the literal ice blocks that stabbed at his bones like needles. He knew that showers often started cold and took a moment to warm, but that had been ridiculous. Waiting for an impatient moment he stuck his hand back under only to hiss, eyes narrowed. It was still beyond freezing. Squinting through the water he scowled, confused for the sight that the temperature handle had been twisted all the way to the maximum cold temperature, as if on purpose. Did Dream really like to shower in the freezing cold?

Hand shakily reaching through the icy torrents he was quick to grasp the handle and rotate it, hand recoiling soon after to avoid the icy torrents. His feet froze beneath him as the water washed over them, heels rocking as he waited for the telltale sign of a change in temperature. It must have taken at least a minute, if not more for the temperature to become plausible for a skeletal body to stand under.

Mentally taking note to ask the guardian why on Earth he'd ever shower so cold he stepped in, letting the now warm water wash over his body and sooth the marks of yesterday. Oh he felt sore and shaky, his bones stiff and feeling as if they'd been split open by Dream's searing fingertips. He took five minutes to simply stand under the water, arms limp by his side and head tipped back to let the water to the main job of washing away his black tears, fingers occasionally sweeping to rid any overbearing excess. It felt as if he were washing away the sins of last night, though he knew he could never truly escape them, the marks crawling up his body in an abstract stain. Still the feeling was nice.

Since he was using Dream's water he figured he might as well make use of his soaps and lotions, eyes flicking across the rather large choice of scents on show. Deciding to at least be merciful he reached for one that looked hardly used, not wanting to anger the other by using up his favourite brand, or something like that. With words from the golden skeleton echoing in his mind he picked up the cherry lotion, a smirk twitching at his lips as a generous capful poured across his fingers and hand. Dream had called him cherry, might as well play the part.

———

"I don't recall saying you could use my shower."

Killer paused just shy of entering the kitchen, glancing to the living room where Dream sat staring at him with an impatient expression. "I don't recall asking."

"You're wasting my water bill, Killer." He clicked his tongue, eyes flickering up and down the smaller's body as he stood staring at him in amusement. "And you don't pay for my services, get over it. Now, I'm hungry."

Now it was Dream's turn to look amused. "What do you expect me to do about it?"

"Get me food?" Killer scoffed, as if Dream had asked the most stupid of questions. "You make me out as some rentable whore, yet make no effort towards the rentable end of it. You can pay me in showers, food and beds to sleep in. I know you're loaded for cash, don't be so thick with it."

For a moment Killer might yell at him or kick him out of the house instantly, maybe bend him over the sofa again and teach him a lesson. Instead he only sighed, expression irked as he took out his phone. "We can order McDonalds - I'm certainly not cooking you breakfast like some malewife."

Eyes shining silver the assassin was quick to settle himself down next to Dream, their shoulders brushing in such a way that made the golden skeleton's gut twist. Did the other have no sense of personal space? However he had to admit that the close position was beneficial in terms or looking at what they could buy, fingers tapping at his phone to bring up the McDonalds app. "I have little care for their breakfast menu, but thankfully I have premium, meaning we can access the normal menu whenever we like."

"You can do that?" Killer arched a brow, skull resting on his shoulder for a moment. "I didn't know that was a thing."

"It is if you have enough money." He muttered, fingers tapping away to place his order. He was a person of habit, getting the same thing each time. The mango fruit smoothie drink, the pancakes with syrup, and a regular Big Mac. Once added to basket he passed his phone together, confident that no compromising messages from Ink would pop up while the other chose.

Grinning at the options Killer stared at his choices, fingers swiftly moving to select the 10 chicken nuggets box, a chicken sandwich, a share box of mozzarella bites,  two hash browns, a large fries, a large hot chocolate and an Oreo McFlurry.

"Does Nightmare starve you?" Dream muttered, watching the money total top up slowly and drain a chunk of his bank account. But killer was right; he was rich and it hardly mattered.

"No. But you fucking me takes up a lot of energy - I feel hollow." He whined, as if expecting sympathy.

"You're a skeleton Killer. Of course you're hollow." He muttered, taking back his phone and paying for it all. "It'll be here in a few minutes."

"Time to relax." He muttered, eyes falling shut for a moment as he thought, not yet moving to slip away from his position nestled next to Dream. The position was comfy, and he was still tired from their late night - why move?

Dream certainly noticed Killer's lack of enthusiasm to move yet didn't comment on it in the moment, more focussed on the sweet scent that lingered up from the other. He couldn't quite place it, eyes narrowed as he let the smell fill his nose once more. "..Have you used one of my lotions?"

Killer's gaze flicked up to him smugly, mouth twisted in a smirk that could turn a straight man bent. "Perhaps. Can you guess which of your many scents it was?"

Staring down at him Dream frowned and reached out a hand to grip at the smaller's jaw, tipping it harshly to shove his skull into the head of the sofa and expose his neck. The action startled Killer momentarily and his limbs flailed before going limp as he realised the reason for Dream's action. The golden skeleton leant down, lips barely shy of brushing his collarbone as he breathed in his neck silently, thinking. "It's fruity."

"Mhm." Killer rather enjoyed the feeling of Dream's hot breath on his neck, mind wandering. "By the way, why is your shower so damn cold-?"

Chuckling lowly he rolled his eyes. "That's just how I like my showers, Killer." With his aura constantly making him and everything around him so warm, a cold shower was always a nice contrast, one that he welcomed each day that came. That's one of the reasons why he quite liked Killer too; years under Nightmare's cruel aura and influence had left the assassin feeling rather cold to the touch. It was refreshing. That was until they got down to business and then he whore would become hot and sweaty all over, burning to the touch. "You better not have changed the setting; it's the perfect temperature."

"Perfect temperature? It could have froze me to death." He muttered, not quite seeing eye to eye with the ex-guardian. But they never saw eye to eye on much anyway. "Now hurry up. Here's a clue; my ecto."

"Your ecto..?" He arched a brow before it clicked, tongue lazily pressing to the bone of Killer's neck for a moment. "Cherry?"

"Bingo." He mumbled, cheeks warmed slightly at the action before he pulled back. "Thought it might have pleased you."

Deciding it was better not to give his opinion Dream leant back, giving a push to the other. "Yeah, sure. I mean, it suits you." He didn't feel the need to compliment Killer, thinking it could give him the wrong impression. Little domestic comments really weren't necessary in their 'relatuonship'. It was turn up, small talk, sex, and then Killer would scamper off into night or manage to score a bed for the night. He was realising that he'd have to start becoming stricter soon before the assassin got too used to the concept of sleeping in the spare room. He didn't want it becoming a habit.

Humming softly the other slumped into Dream, lazily sinking into his lap, shoulder blades poking against the Dream's right leg as he settled, head resting comfortably on him.

"What are you doing." It was hardly even a question, just a blunt sentence of words to jab at him. The guardian hadn't expected it brows shooting up as his eyes locked with the grinning skeleton beneath him.

"M' getting comfy." He rolled his eyes and settled down nicely, either not catching on to his annoyance or simply not caring. After Dream was so rude to him before he wasn't just going to let him boss him around as if he were nothing. Even Nightmare could spare him a slither of respect, he was sure Dream could find it within himself to do the same and it wouldn't damage his ego too badly to do so. "Stop acting so uptight, I'll move once the food is here."

"I hope it gets here fast, then." Dream hissed, unsure where to rest his hands without it seeming like an affectionate gesture. He had to settle for crossing them over his chest.

He shot him a wink, pupils dancing across his face with a gleeful shine. To see the Guardian falter for what to do, compromised for ideas of how to shove him off or degrade him in a way that wouldn't give Killer the reaction he wanted. The man may have denied any chance of Killer managing to sneak his way into his heart, under his bones to start the little cracks forming in his cold exterior. He was working away at him slowly, little chips in that golden plated armour to reveal the softer side beneath.  It was exciting. "I hope it takes forever."

Unfortunately for Killer  the food only took around 15 minutes to arrive, his body being shoved off of the man's lap as the doorbell rang. Groaning in discomfort he curled up on the sofa to play the dramatic card, of course very upset that the other had so cruelly discarded him like he were a toy he'd grown bored of.

Thankfully he was quick to forgive Dream as the smell of McDonalds wafted into the room. He'd read countless articles of the poisoning effects of the food he'd devour, how the nuggets were made of chemicals and awful add-ins of disgusting shit. It was a fun thing to do in his bedroom, scroll through his phone (with McDonalds sat steaming in front of him) reading articles written by vegan women desperate to save a few fluffy chickens. He couldn't care less himself, simply enjoying the taste.

"Here's your meal.. big enough to feed a small village." Dream muttered, passing over his nuggets, his sandwich, his mozzarella sticks, his fries, his hash browns, his McFlurry and his hot drink.

"Enough to feed me, I'm the small village." He grumbled at Dream's constant jabs, taking the food and eagerly popping a nugget in his mouth, not bothering with sauce for the first one as he chewed. He had to admit Dream's smoothie looked nice but he knew asking for a sip would probably end with it all thrown across his chest.

"You certainly have the mixed personalities of a small village." He scoffed, taking a bite of his burger. It was true, one moment Killer would be cruel and cold, then suddenly relentless with no filter, so focussed on the goal in task that he forgot his surroundings. Then he could become snarky and quick witted, forever throwing little comments to rial you up. Then he could turn all stupid and giggly, acting like a high school girl after texting her crush at the sleepover. And then he could act all whiny and desperate, pleading for stupid stuff knowing fully well if he asks loud enough he'll get it just so everyone else can shut him up. And then he'd become a filthy whore desperate for his cock. It was rather hard to keep up with sometimes.

"You love me for it." He spoke with his mouth stuffed full of hash browns and ketchup.

"You wish." He stole one of Killer's fries, ignoring his cry of distress in response. "You won't starve, get over it."

"You're incredibly rude." He muttered, ignoring the disgusted look he received as he scooped up a generous dollop of McFlurry ice cream with a chicken nugget before munching on it. A sudden thought jumped into his head and he grinned over at him. "Hey, this is a lot like a little breakfast date, isn't it?"

"No."

"When will you actually take me out somewhere? Somewhere fancy and rich that isn't McDonalds for a proper date."

"Never."

Despite their harsh jabs at each other the atmosphere was light, a few laughs even shared between the two of them as they spoke of features of their friends that were laughable, as all good friends do. The food was eventually shared as Killer admitted he'd maybe ordered a little too much but insisted it was necessary for his high pay rate. It was nice, as if they were partners, friends, more even. The day was young.

"You're leaving as soon as you're finished, you know."

Smiling, Killer nodded. "Yeah, I know."

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Longest chapter at 5,500words 😩

Killer is slowly domesticating them both and there's nothing Dream can do about it 😍😍😍

Ah I love their dynamic it simply makes me so happy I can't explain, hope you like too.

Lots of the convos between them both were inspired by the long on going rp I have with zyebana_yaoistka It's so yummy

Probably some soulmates next, we'll see. Hope you liked 🥰

My phone is broken smh this is so glitchy 😡

-Jess-