Kréme / Driller Oneshots

Happy

Sorry it's been so long since I updated 💀here's a short little thing about (my personal) cannon relationship for Kreme

In which Killer considers death, and then
happiness

"I've been thinking lately.."

"Well that's never good."

"Nno no, seriously." Killer rolled over slightly, his head on his partner's lap, eyes silver as he stared up at him. "I've been thinking about death."

"Death? How morbid." Dream's voice was a soft murmur, his fingers ghosting over Killer's forehead and tickling under his chin until the other finally smiled. "What about death?"

"Whether I'd go to hell." He leant into his touch greedily, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Dream was always so warm, and after an eternity of living through the cold, he found he'd always chase after that fleeting touch. "I mean, I'm almost certain I will; I'm not a good person."

"Nor are you usually religious." Dream cupped his cheeks in his hands, pinching the bone. "Besides, you're only 23 - hardly at the brink of death. Stop this silly talk."

Killer couldn't help but snicker, tipping his head to press soft kisses to his wrist, fingers curling around the bone. "Mh, death can happen at any time, you know?"

The God regarded him silently for a moment, taking in his expression and relishing the way his mouth felt against his wrist. While what the assassin said was true, he wouldn't let it come to light so easily. "Maybe, but not to you."

While the answer seemed anonymous, Killer seemed to get the message, his mouth twitching in a sly smile before he silently urged the other to continue the petting. Maybe that had satisfied his morbid thoughts. Dream's hands continued to absentmindedly stroke the other's skull while his mind wandered. He himself wasn't too sure if he believed in Heaven and Hell. If they were real then he was sure he'd done a few things shameful enough to be frowned upon by God, yet his title as the Guardian of Positivity would most likely allocate him a spot by the pearly gates. But he was immortal, and the question of his fate had followed him for so long that he'd stopped caring about it.

But for a mortal like Killer, he understood why he might worry over the topic. Skeletons usually lived above 100, so he'd hardly lived a quarter of his life, but life was indeed dangerous. He'd known many people die unexpectedly before their time; whether by horrible accident, malicious intent or simple bad luck.

While he tried his best not to mull over it, the idea of Killer dying did scare him. He wasn't the only mortal he'd had relations with, no. But he felt.. special. Even thinking it made him cringe, and in the past he would have mocked himself for becoming so dependent on a creature so.. fragile. But Killer was different.

He was by no means the longest relationship he'd had, he'd only officially been with Killer for just over a year - that is once their odd relationship had developed from fighting and one night stands to something more endearing. He'd had many relationships last him near decades, but in the end they'd always die. That was simply the circle of life. While himself never considered it, someone could look upon his immortality as a curse. Everyone he befriended would eventually die - even Ink and Blue, one day would disappear, leaving him alone once more in an endless loop of rivalry against the man who was once his brother.

Nightmare had been better at staying out of relationships than him. He was used to being alone, and power became his new lust. There had of course been a few lovers, but Dream had still been in stone when the last partner had succumbed to sudden illness. He himself had always craved attention, so the list of relationships was longer, despite his time trapped in stone. Falling in love was dangerous when you lived as long as they did. Of course Nightmare now had whatever sick relationship he had going with Cross, but Dream tried not to think of it.

The reason Killer felt different from the others was because he was - well - different. Truly. His past partners had been carefully picked, strategic. They had been picture perfect people with smooth skin, pristine bones, doe eyes and soft hair. They'd been obedient to his will and worshiped him for what he was; a god. They'd obeyed him, waiting for his command and praying to him each night. While it has satisfied his ego, it never succumbed to much in the end, and when they passed away, the hollowness in his body never seemed to reach his soul.

But then there was Killer, a ragged skeleton with more bad habits than any of his previous partners combined. He wasn't pristine or soft, instead battered with scars, chips and cracks across every bone in his body. His face was constantly mucky with grime, and his black tears had stained his cheeks grey. Instead of soft doey features, he was sharp and deadly, an assassin trained to kill, not worship. He was beneath Dream every way, yet he acted as if they were the same; equals. If he ever gave indications of worship, it was only to mock him. He wouldn't obey, instead more inclined to disobey. He would play with him like some sort of animal, feral. And for whatever reason, he had Dream hooked.

When they'd first fought he'd thought nothing of him, that he was merely another kid off the streets Nightmare had picked up. But he was reckless, relentless. He had weaselled his way into Dream's life before either of them had really realised it, and all of a sudden it was to late to stop whatever sick bond they were forming.

At the beginning of their.. partnership, he had never considered they'd be anything more than flings to each other, quick nights of lust filled passion. But then Killer had started to stay over more, and he'd started to become more affectionate. To this day he was still unsure whether their relationship was a good idea or not. Killer was mortal, and despite how tough he was, he would eventually snap. Maybe it was selfish to cling onto him like this; Killer had so much potential, and maybe he was wasting away here in this place, playing house with a man who was once revered as a God. But he was a selfish person, and he knew he was too far gone to let Killer flee.

"Are you.. happy here, with me?" His own voice sounded distant, hollow. He must have zoned out, for it was only Killer's touch that dragged him from whatever unconscious state he was in.

"Happy? What a silly question." He reached up to prod at him, but found his wrists caught between firm fingers.

"Killer."

He stared up at him, and realised that for whatever reason, this had turned into a serious conversation. He let his hands fall limp, and the guardian kissed each fingertip slowly until he felt giddy, lightheaded. "Nno I'm happy, really." He leant into him, eyes fluttering shut as he basked in the other's warmth. And it was the truth.

He didn't miss his old life, not one bit. Childhood hadn't been kind to him, but these years of his life could he just what his life needed. "Are you happy - With me?"

Dream hummed, pressing his lips to the other's palm and watching how a faint hue of pink dusted his cheeks. "I couldn't be happier."

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They're so silly and sappy and silly and in love and sappy and silly

I was struck by inspiration on the train so here we are 😎

Okay I promise I'm still writing I just don't have as much time as I used to smh. Anyway I'm working on a bIG oneshot rn it'll be like um 20,000 words if I finish it

Enjoy

-Jess-