Deal with a Demon

nine

Dream and George really needed to stop going clubbing.

The last time they'd gone out, they were stopped by a skeptical Fundy, and now, they were being watched by some guy in a beanie.

It couldn't be connected, honestly, and Dream knew that. Maybe Fundy was simply friends with the guy, or even going out with him as far as Dream knew.

But, in the morning, when the pair left the club, the guy in the beanie was leaning against an outside window, smoking a cigarette. He glanced at Dream and George with a dubious expression as they walked past, and Dream couldn't help but feel like he knew the guy.

Chills crept onto the blonde's neck as he looked at the pale-faced brunette. He looked so familiar, and yet Dream couldn't put his finger on who it might possibly be.

They walked back to Dream's apartment with the cold morning air, and the sense that someone was watching them.

Upon opening the door, Patches was waiting for them. She went straight to George's leg (no, Dream wasn't jealous of this at all) and rubbed her nose against his sweats until he scooped her up into his arms.

In the past week, Patches was annoyingly obsessed with the brunette. She'd leave Dream's side in favor of George's lap, and would make a huge show of how comfortable George was before finally settling down with a purr. Dream would be upset with this, anyhow, if the whole exchange wasn't so goddamn adorable.

He never really brought anyone back to his house, so he had just assumed Patches wouldn't like any new intruders. But, this thing she'd established with George, it was pretty cute; they just looked so endearing together.

The brunette flopped onto the couch with Patches in his lap, so Dream settled down across from him. The TV played static in the background as George gave Patches pets while Dream zoned out, trying to place the brunette from earlier.

After a moment, George whispered, "Dream?"

"Hmm?"

George paused and stopped touching Patches altogether. "I know you told me about how you became a vampire and everything, but, I was wondering, when was all that exactly?"

Dream chuckled. "What?"

"Like, how old are you, technically?" George blushed, cheeks burnt with a feverish red.

"Awe, George. Are you scared you've been making out with a crippled 80-year old or something?" Dream's grin hardened as he continued. "Don't worry. All that was like 20 years ago, so, I'm 42, I guess."

The brunette's eyes widened. "So you could be a dilf then."

"Sure. What? Did you think I was born in like, the early 1900s? I am no Edward Cullen."

George laughed, and started petting Patches again. "I guess I just assumed that all vampires are really old. It's weird to think you were born in the 80s. Most of my favorite music is from that time."

"Oh yeah? Who's your favorite band then?" Dream asked, smile teasing.

"Queen, of course."

"They're still around nowadays, George."

"Yeah, but they're not the same without Freddie," George paused, realization sparking in his eyes. "Oh my god, you were alive during Freddie Mercury's supreme reign."

The way he said it made Dream laugh. "Yeah, I was. I still remember the day we found out he died. I cried for weeks, and at that time I barely even knew the band."

George grinned, "You were such a softie as a human, I bet."

"Maybe I was," Dream smiled.

It was quiet for a second, before George asked another one of his many daunting questions. "I actually was wondering about something else, too?"