Fundy tapped his finger to each tick of the clock. It was late and the temperature outside was only getting colder. His eyes lazily wandered through the room, letting out a muffled yawn and rested his head in his arms. Meetings. Everyday was plagued with these goddamn meetings. He only wished he could get through the next five minutes without passing out. Ranboo and Tubbo were stuck on... some topic that he had barely paid attention to. Another yawn had escaped.

Within the past two weeks and a half, he felt as if the weather had grown more and more miserable, and he still had yet to construct the appliances to keep his home warm. Maybe he'd find the time to work on it if his schedule wasn't so filled with tasks from New L'manberg. What, in between the chilling nights of tossing and turning, running from one place to another, attending these long meetings, and feeding more time to just sit there and be exhausted— he couldn't wait for what the new year had in store for him. Perhaps if he politely asked for a day off...

His finger paused when the hand on the clock ticked nine o'clock. He straightened his back and looked over at Tubbo who, too, was focused on the clock. The young president looked around the room with a tired sight, rubbing his eyes. Clearly they hadn't made as much progress as he had hoped. "Okay," he whispered to no one specifically. "You're all free to go home. Don't come in tomorrow, you deserve the break."

The whole room stood up at once. Quackity went through the room wishing everyone a happy New Years— oh that's right, he wasn't attending the party. Tubbo looked over at Fundy, Fundy looked away. Everyone filed out and soon the seats surrounding the table were empty. "Fundy, I don't want to keep you long but," Tubbo started out, nervously playing with the end of his tie.

Fundy nodded and smiled tiredly. "What do you need?"

"The party," he said. God, Fundy wished he didn't RSVP for that damn party. "I- I was wondering if you could stay indoors with me?"

"Indoors?" Fundy questioned, eyes still flickering to the clock as it still continued to tick.

The president sighed and looked down at the table, pushing the few sheets of paper back into a neatly piled stack. "Tommy really wants to set off fireworks and I just— I'm not ready for that yet," he said hesitantly.

Fundy took a breath, he had the next day off anyways, he could spare a few minutes for Tubbo. "I thought you said you didn't want fireworks at the party."

"It's the least I can do," Tubbo said, head down.

Okay, Fundy took it back. He really doesn't have the energy for that. "I'll stay indoors with you, Tubbo. It'll be fun, we can even put on a movie and stuff, alright?"

Tubbo smiled, "thanks, Fundy. I'll see you on New Years, alright?"

Fundy waved as his last bit of energy carried him through the door. And like an unwanted hug, the outside air wrapped its arms around him in it's icy breath. He took the zipper of his jacket in shaky hands, slowly zipping it up to his neck, as if it held any of the escaped warmth from before. Long and agonizing steps led him back home. Staring straight ahead, the right foot went forward and then the left. Maybe if he wasn't so lost in the satisfying crunch of the snow, he would've noticed his husband calling out his name. He did, however, see his home growing closer in the distance.

Upon finally reaching the door, he just stared at the frost glistened lock. If the gods went easy on him, then maybe he could just stick in his keys and turn the lock with no problem. Digging the keys out of his pockets, he pushed it towards the keyhole and felt it stop. He hit his head against the door with a groan. His nearly white morphed hair tickled his nose which burned from the cold. The gods were most definitely not going easy on him. He kept pushing it in, hoping the ice frozen within the lock would just chip away sooner than later.

Chip— Chip— Chip—

"... Fundy?"

Chip— A hand suddenly grabbed his. Fundy didn't have the energy to pull away, but to look up and see the familiar mask with that poorly drawn smile, he dropped his keys and wrapped his arms around him. "Hey," Dream chuckled softly, "are you okay?" Fundy only shook his head, and kept himself close to Dream, the only source of heat in a mile radius. Dream, however, held a worried look, bending down to pick up the fallen keys while also holding Fundy close to him wasn't the easiest task, but it worked well enough. He tried his luck in digging the key into the hole but was faced with the same results. "Fundy?" He nudged him, making sure that he hadn't fallen asleep in his arms.

Fundy hummed.

"I'm going to teleport inside. Are you alright enough to stay out here for another moment?" Dream asked, tapping Fundy's upper arm. The other nodded and hummed. "Okay," Dream sighed, slowly peeling Fundy off of him. "I'll be back in a minute."

It didn't take long before Fundy saw the front door open up to reveal his husband and torch. "Please don't burn down my house," he quietly laughed as he walked inside quickly and kicked the door closed. He kept his jacket on as there wasn't much of temperature change between the indoors and outdoors. He looked over at Dream who extinguished the torch and placed it back into his inventory. The blond smiled as he looked back at him, the two caught up in the silence and comfort that they were both there looking at one another. "So," he started off, "I take it you're back from your business trip?" He asked.

Dream cringed and looked away. "I- uh, well that trip got cut short."

Fundy frowned, "I see."

Dream laughed nervously. "But, regardless, I was planning on visiting for New Years anyways—"

"That's nice." Fundy nodded, he turned on his heel and made his way down the hall to his bedroom.

"Fundy?" Dream questioned.

"Yes, my love?" Fundy called back.

"You're mad at me," he said. "Aren't you?"

Fundy stopped outside the doorway, he looked at Dream and smiled. "I'm just... tired. And I'm sorry I don't have the energy for this conversation right now, about how I'm upset that you've spent more time with an exiled teenager than me after our wedding... I am just so tired and so cold. Please, just spare this conversation for a day and can we just be happy that we're next to each other again?" He asked.

Dream nodded, "yeah, I can do that."

Fundy mouthed a thank you and went back into his room. Changing out of the days clothes went by fast and he was suddenly walking back out with an armful of blankets. Dream was knelt down by the fire, stoking it with the poker. Fundy dumped the blankets down on the couch and walked over to Dream, kneeling down next to him. "Is there a reason the house is a literal ice box?" Dream asked, looking over at him.

Fundy simply just shrugged in response, letting the fire's warmth kiss his freezing hands. "Are you going to go change? I can go make something warm to drink."

Dream smiled, he went to kiss Fundy's forehead and ruffled the new white hair. Fundy sunk deeper into the touch as Dream moved to rubbing the underside of his chin. "Fuck..." Fundy sighed, his eyelids threatening to close themselves, "...you."

"You tired?" He whispered, continuing to rub around his husband's ears. "You said you were tired. Wanna get some sleep?"

"You," Fundy yawned. "You get changed. Now..."

"Are we sleeping upstairs or— oh... and you're out," Dream chuckled to himself when looking down at his husband who fell asleep on his shoulder. He picked Fundy up and carried him towards the couch. "Okay, I'll be back," he said, though he was sure Fundy was too deeply fallen to even hear him.

Dream walked over to the bedroom and changed into his pajamas (sweats and an old T-shirt Fundy had gotten him for his birthday). He dropped his inventory into his chest. He stood there looking at the empty slot where his old pickaxe usually sat, a long sigh left him, but he shut the chest and ignored it the best he could. He untied the straps that held his mask up, weighing it with thought, he left it on the table and finally made his way back towards the living room, where there was now a vacant couch.

"I made drinks," Fundy spoke up. Dream looked over towards the kitchen that held an opening for his husband to smile at him from the fridge. "Don't look at me like that."

"I thought you were asleep," Dream pouted, looking over the two mugs that sat in front of him.

"Oh, I was," Fundy nodded. "But then I got cold and woke up." Dream lifted an eyebrow while Fundy brushed it off. "Don't worry about it, hopefully I can set up the heater tomorrow."

"Wish I could help," Dream said while pulling one of the two mugs closer to him. He eyed it carefully and looked up towards Fundy, double checking for that mischievous smirk.

Fundy laughed, "it's just hot cocoa, no booze tonight, babe."

Dream took a sip and smiled. How lucky was he to have a husband that made the best goddamn hot cocoa in the world. He smiled and smiled and smiled. Looking at Fundy across the counter triggered no other action but a smile. He moved so he could trap Fundy in his arms, the fox hybrid relaxed and rested with his back against Dream's chest. They moved through the small kitchen. No music was needed as they danced to the beat of their hearts.

"Dream?" Fundy whispered.

"Yeah?"

Fundy turned, looking up at Dream, his eyes soft as he took in the blonds face. "I..." he was breathless. "I love you so fucking much."