Morning came soon enough. By the time Dream awoke, it was still dark out. He shivered and dug himself deeper into his pocket of warmth. He faced his husband who was still dead asleep. Raking his fingers through his grayish white hair, he could see small hints of ginger but it was a cute quality nonetheless. The blond pressed his lips to his forehead before untangling himself out of bed, to which he was met by a sharp wave of icy cold. The option of running back under the covers was tempting.

He yawned, stretching out his back. Several cracks being let out, he cringed at the sound and took a deep breath. The watch on Fundy's side table said it was only half past six. Early enough to actually be productive within the day, but the sudden hand dragging him back down onto the bed inferred otherwise. Fundy subconsciously pulled Dream over on top of him.

Fundy was warm and Dream was cold. It was inevitable that he wasn't going to deny the embrace from his husband. He propped himself up by holding his arms on either side of Fundy. Leaning down, he pressed his lips in the crook of his husband's neck, earning a content sigh from the once ginger.

After a while, he wrangled himself out of Fundy's hold. Stepping back and kneeling down beside the bed, he traced his finger along his jawline. "Funds," he whispered. Only soft snores escaped his mouth. "C'mon, Its, you gotta get up. You can't sleep all day," he whispered.

Fundy turned his head, looking at Dream with soft, tired, eyes. He reached out, setting his hand on Dream's head, mumbling, "yes, I can."

Dream took the hand off his head and held it in his hands, warming it up between his two palms. He placed multiple kisses along Fundy's knuckles, absorbing the sight of his husband's flushed cheeks in his mind. "I'm making you coffee, alright?" He tempted, squeezing his hand a bit.

Fundy frowned, holding out his other hand in a grabbing motion. Dream dragged him out of the bed and held him up with his arms. "I hate how only you can get away with calling me that, Fundy mumbled.

"Calling you what?" he mused

Fundy hummed, "you're too pretty to play stupid, D." He let one of his hands stray up to Dream's hair, fingers playing with the subtle golden curls.

They stood together with their arms wrapped down around one another. Fundy wasn't used to this much physical affection, if he were to be honest. The past month of neglect and here he is being spoiled. He'll relish the touch he can get before Dream would eventually go off on another trip, no contact or message for weeks at a time.

They shivered under the cold, Fundy dug himself deeper into the embrace. "Give me your sweatshirt," he said. And Dream made no comment, slipping off the green fabric off over his head— he had put it on in the middle of the night, the peak of the night too cold for the few layers of blankets. He kept an arm held onto Fundy's waist, the other struggling to slide the sweatshirt over the white haired head. Fundy assisted the rest of the process, embracing the already warm sweatshirt like a second hug.

Dream dragged Fundy along to the kitchen. Already setting up a kettle for boiling water, he hummed a familiar tune to himself, watching steadily as Fundy sat down and rested his chin in his hands. They shared the soft atmosphere of tranquility, knowledge only so far that they could tell it won't last for long.

The sudden 'clink' of a glass made him look down in front of him. The dark swirling brown of the coffee let out a subtle steam. Fundy took a sip, eyes widening when he tasted a familiar caramel flavor. He looked over at Dream, who had already turned to prepare his own cup. "You remembered?" He questioned, breaking their silence and making Dream look up from his routine.

"You sound surprised," he replied, his back turned as he focused on his own cup.

Fundy tilted his head. "I thought you only paid attention to the extravagant things," he pondered to himself. "We only got coffee together for our third date. It just seems like an odd thing to remember from something so long ago." He tapped his finger against the table. Dream still faced away from him, he could hear the 'clinks' of the spoon hitting the ceramic, but when Dream turned back around, he held this warm smile while looking at him.

"I remember you ordered your coffee with whipped cream," he said, looking down at the ground. He sighed, shaking his head, "which I definitely pointed out as kind of odd, but you made me taste your sweet caffeine. It's hard to not remember such a childlike smile on your face as you were practically bouncing off the walls that day." He tilted his stare and held his own cup to his lips. "I want to see that smile again... even if it's just a fraction of what it was, I'll be content."

"And here I am, just shocked that you remembered that I like a bit of caramel in my coffee."

"You don't always have to have such low expectations from me."

"I don't, just sometimes I begin to think that I expect a little too much from you. I mean was it too much for you to even stop by or even talk to me after the wedding?"

"I had work to do, you know that."

"Oh, yes, manipulating a child."

"You mean protecting the SMP and L'manburg– which may I remind you, is your home."

"L'manburg stopped being my home after everyone forgot what they were fighting for. I could care less of what happens to that land."

"Why are you quiet?"

"Because I don't know what the right thing to say to you is," Dream exclaimed. "You either let me embrace you or you want to argue about something which, yeah, admittedly everything is my fault. Are you happy? I apologize for everything I've ever done to hurt you. I apologize for George crashing one of the happiest days of my life. I apologize for feeling so ashamed from after what George did that I had to leave cause the thought of hurting you anymore was like a thousand knives."

"You hurt me more when you left!"

"I'm sorry," Dream whispered.

Fundy sighed, he dug his head into his arms, leaving his coffee untouched. "I hate getting upset at you."

"But you can't just move on from this and ignore it just cause it's easier."

Fundy reached out and took a long drowning sip. His eyes ignored the temptation to look over at Dream and accept that he was right. Instead, he took a deep breath and stared at the old wooden table instead.

"I'm going to go visit Niki," he said abruptly as he stood up. "Do you need anything while I'm out?"

Dream let out a sigh as he nodded slowly. "Yeah, where did you put your book that translates the alphabet?"

Fundy quirked an eyebrow. "Why do you need it? You already write the ancient language perfectly."

"No, Funds, I need it to translate to English."

"Sorry, the concept of you reading is odd to me."

"Fundy, please?"

"Yeah, okay, it's on the coffee table," he complied. "Don't rip the pages or crack the spine or anything..."

"I'll take care of it," Dream reassured. "I just need to translate a few directions and I'll put it back right where I found it. No need to worry."

"Somehow worry is a common feeling around you."

As if the light conversation of Dream's poor translating skills, the two seemed to find a comforting balance from the disagreement. They'll tread softly as for hope to not tip it too far down the wrong side.

Fundy got up with his empty mug of coffee. The warmth of the morning drink and exchange of words finally catching up to him. "I'll be back in an hour or two," he said. "Message me if you burned down the house or anything."

***

And so Fundy came back in the midst of Dream working. The blond sat in the middle of their living room surrounded by a display of metal parts and books.

"Dream?" Fundy questioned, stood at the doorway.

The mentioned looked up, his mask back on despite once being the only one in the home. "Fundy," he nodded, looking back down at the pages.

Fundy stepped forward, looking at the scene bestowed below him. "So... what is this?" Fundy asked as he sat next to Dream on the floor. He watched the confusion dance across his husband's eyes as the blond stared at the paper instructions.

"This is a uh..." he flipped the packet around, revealing the title of the contraption in English, along with scribbled symbols in pencil below it. He read aloud, "portable heater?" He looked up. "You're back quite soon. And what time is it now? It's—"

"It's ten o'clock, and you're still in the house. It's far more surprising seeing you still here than for me being back early from a grocery run." Fundy said, setting down a paper bag in front of him quietly. He watched in amusement at the blond who flipped the pages and stared at the pieces that matched up to it. "Dream, what are you doing?"

"I am assembling a heater thing," he answered as if it explained everything.

"Why?"

"Because it's cold and seems simple enough to do."

Fundy facepalmed. "Honey, you can barely feel the cold. And I thought you didn't know how to read English, despite basic words. Where's the rest of your posse today?"

"Out," he said, "and well, that's why I'm translating it... very slowly..." he trailed off. "And good husbands do things to make their spouse feel comfortable. Sue me if you prefer the cold more!"

"Okay." Fundy crossed his arms. "I'll bite into whatever the hell you're playing. Where's George and Sapnap?"

"What? I can't do something for my amazing husband out of pure will?" Dream gasped. Fundy gave him a look which had broken the facade fast. "Okay, Sapnap is out of town with Quackity and Karl. And George is either still asleep or he's out with Ninja."

"Oh, I see," he scoffed.

Dream rolled his eyes and fell back. "Shut up."

"The trio split up to be simps for the weekend, huh?"

"Its and D time is long overdue," Dream chuckled. "Just embrace the love!"

Fundy shifted and dragged the warrior up over his lap, more comfortably so he was in his arms. "Were we not affectionate enough last night and morning?"

"Mm, yes," the blond sighed as he grabbed the white haired man's hands. "But cuddles..."

Fundy smiled down at him before looking back at the mess on the floor. "We can cuddle after this heater is finished. Would you like some help?"

Dream shook his head in his lap.

"Okay," Fundy stopped. The two stared at one another. Pink flushed Dream's cheeks and he looked back down at his mess. Fundy stood back up, ruffling Dream's hair as he passed him by, avoiding the arms reaching out to pull him back down. "Then I'm going to go clean up the rest of the house. Call me if you need help."

Dream scoffed as he watched his husband leave the room. He sat back up, attempting to read the instructions and rough translations. "Fundy!" He whined, "I need help!"