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Sunset Boulevard

Chapter 8. (Clean version), Nightcross, Driller.

“Maybe we can be friends"

Synopsis: Dream was so sure that Cross might be the one. Even in the short time they’d been together, he would have told you that things had been perfect. But when a past history between Nightmare and Cross is revealed, it throws a wrench in the works and sets into motion a series of events that spiral relationships out of control. With things crashing down around them, it’s hard to say if things will ever find balance again.

P8 After the party, new relationships will form, both platonic and not.

Clean version: Below the cut.

Director’s Cut, full version: on AO3 and the Link goes up on @jann-the-bean Tumblr same time this goes up.

Credits.

Original Cross belongs to jakei95

Original Killer belongs to rahafwabas

Original Nightmare and Dream by jokublog

Studio verse by @zu-is-here

Inspired by Atos by @atosofficial

Writing was mostly gayfish split editing between us.

Art work by Jan.

More info

Enjoy ;) (be aware, even in the clean version there is some lightly suggestive content)

Last part

Dream's Hotel was a walk away from the venue, so they walked together in silence, after circling round one last swing of goodbyes, and dodging any remaining press outside.

Honestly, the two had hardly spoken a word to each other since the day in Dream's flat. Only sending a few texts back and forth to arrange travel to this city. Killer had set most of it up, booking the hotels and flights. He'd made sure that the hotel was far from Dream's; it was best to give space to the other. While Dream's was only 10 minutes away, Killer's was at least a 40-minute drive.

Killer felt as though he wanted to say something to the other, maybe thank him for coming? Maybe not. This whole night, Dream had put on a front of tolerating Killer. He and Night were similar in their body language, so he could easily recognise that hidden dislike. It's not as if Killer had expected much.

Dream had been a help, though, sticking to his side for most of the event and standing up for him when it came to answering questions. The gossip about what had happened to end his arrangement with Night was like chum in the water, and the press had been circling like sharks.

As they approached Dream's hotel, the other let out a huge sigh of relief.

“Dream I….”

The golden-eyed skeleton turned to look at him.

“....”

“Thanks…for coming”

Dream only gave Killer a nod before walking inside the building. Not a word.

“.....”

Well, Killer shouldn't have expected more…it had been a long night after all.

As Killer pulled out his phone to call a taxi, he couldn't help but notice some clouds starting to roll in.

********

Fast forward… 20 minutes later…

For one, he cursed himself as yet another taxi service told him there would be at least a 90-minute wait. Killer should have known better…the premier had caused fans of the series to flock to the city from all over the country, taxis were booked up quickly, and the traffic on the road was heavy.

For two, he cursed the sky as the few drops of rain falling started to get heavy. Things like this had perfect timing…

So now both stranded and wet…Killer simply cursed.

“fuck this”

He'd normally try to limit his profanity in public, but he couldn't help it. Perhaps he could go back to the after-party? It was due to continue for another hour or so. But the thought of running into Cross and/or Nightmare alone made him shiver worse than the rain.

He called again.

And was told the same thing.

The rain started to wet his phone and make it harder to use the touch screen, causing him to miss dialing a few times.

Maybe this is what he got for being stupid…

But whenever he'd gone to things like this, Night had always…

No…God, don't start thinking about him again. The pit in his stomach dropped harder.

And he rang again.

Still nothing.

At this point, he was tempted to just walk.

“Hey”

He jumped and spun round fast, only to be met by the sight of Dream.

He'd changed out of his suit, wearing a baggy band t-shirt and a pair of sports leggings. The colours clashed, but they were clearly for comfort, not style. How tired he looked all of a sudden made Killer realise that he must have been wearing makeup before that he'd now taken off.

He winced as some raindrops hit him, giving Killer a perplexed look.

“Any particular reason why you are hanging around out here in the cold?”

“Uhhh”

He clicked his phone to stand by.

“No.. no taxis…How did you know I was still out here?”

“I can see you from my window,” he said dryly and then waved his hand. “Come on…”

“Huh?”

Dream let out a long sigh. “Do you wanna wait in my room until one comes available?”

Oh…

Oh!

“Oh, Dream, you don't have to-

“Shut up. Come inside.”

Killer might have stood there slightly too long, blinking like an idiot. The mask of sweet and perfect Dream was way off now. His expression was of someone currently annoyed to be alive. So to avoid passing him off more, he followed him inside.

***********************************

Dream's Hotel room was a complete and utter mess. Clothes tossed on the floor, a pizza box on the bed. A box that Dream knocked off when he flopped onto his mattress.

It was a stark contrast to how Killer had always expected Dream to be. He was so neat in press shoots. His Instagram had been tailored to perfection. He'd always given the most perfect clean energy. It’s one of many ways that he and Night were similar. Both seemed to embody this organised, neat, perfect lifestyle.

Killer was beset with guilt over it. He felt like it was his fault that Dream was like this. He felt as though he'd ruined someone. Again.

He picked up the pizza box and set it on the bedside table.

“You doin’ alright?”

Dream let out a laboured sigh and rolled onto his back.

“Yeah….”

Killer sat next to him.

“Dream…I'm sorry, really, for everything that happened.”

“I know you probably hate me, but-“

“Stop. Don’t.”

He looked at the golden-eyed skeleton as he sat himself up.

“I've not been fair to you, Killer. And, I may not be happy with you. But, I never hated you.”

Dream sighed again, looking around the mess of the room.

He'd gotten here a day early, mostly just to avoid the press, and it was already a mess. This massive slump was taking a toll. He didn't even want to go back to his apartment and confront the rubbish piles. His bones were starting to get stiff. How long had it been since he'd last gone to yoga?

He stretched and clicked his back. No break-up in the past had left him feeling like this. Even breaking it with his college TA hadn't left such a weight on him. Yet here he was…and here Killer was checking in on him…again.

“......”

“I am not like the persona I play, Killer. I don't need you to act like you care about me, though.”

The words split from his mouth harshly, and Killer visibly winced.

“Dream…I'm not ac-“

”I said Stop Killer!”

Silence.

He put his head in his hands as Killer shifted on his feet.

The silences that fell between them were becoming more and more laboured. Killer opened his mouth to say something, but promptly closed it.

“.....”

“It…looks like it's stopped raining…” He said, shifting again. I think I'll just have a smoke and leave.”

Dream looked up, but Killer had already crossed the room and stepped out on the

balcony.

*************

Killer sat on the floor of the balcony, his legs dangling through the bars. A cage of smoke curled around his fingertips as he took the first puff. He'd been telling himself he was going to quit for a long time.

At this point, he was smoking more than ever. It was a given that he'd always find himself addicted to something.

The city stretched under him, bustling. For the first time in a while, he felt completely out of place. He should have just left Dream alone rather than trying to fix everything. He was never good at fixing things.

He heard the sound of footsteps behind him.

“I couldn't bum one off you, could I?”

Killer grimaced and chuckled bitterly. He must be joking.

“Trust me, Lil light, you don't wanna start smoking these things”

The golden-eyed skeleton sat himself next to Killer and sweetly plucked the cigarette from Killer’s fingers.

“Yeah, I know, but this isn't my first one,” he said, taking a drag. Killer must’ve been giving Dream a look because he quickly followed up with, “Don't act so surprised.”

He handed it back to Killer, who couldn't hide the amusement. “I had no idea you smoked…you’re all smoothie bowls and supplements”

Dream rolled his eyes. “Ha. Ha.” He sighed. “I don't really, not anymore …but I used to.”

Killer took another “Full of surprises.. aren’t ya.”

Dream let out a sigh and pulled his knees to his chest. “Killer, I want to apologise.”

There was a brief pause before Killer quietly responded. “It's fine.”

“It's not…” Dream curled himself tighter, face dropping, “You've been nothing but kind to me…” He took in a breath. “I didn't mean to be so rude…just.. You're just not what I thought you'd be like.”

The Playboy paused mid-puff before smirking, letting smoke slip between his teeth.

“Really?”

His companion nodded before stealing his cigarette again.

“Yep…”

“From what my brother and the press said….” He took a long drag. “I always thought you were just an unfeeling heartbreaker.”

Regret filled his golden eyes as he flicked away some ash. “Which means I could have blamed everything on you.”

The smirk on Killer’s face fell. His reputation had never been a good one. It could be said that his body count rivalled his screen counterpart, as he'd spent the last week sleeping anywhere but his bed.

“But.. that's not what you're like…” Dream continued, “I... was angry... because I couldn’t blame you. It’s stupid.. it wasn’t even really your fault..”

Their tired eyes met. “Killer, I'm sorry.

It was quiet for a while. Nothing but the sound of the city rang between them. Until Killer finally spoke.

“Well, you aren't what I expected either.”

Dream looked up.

“I thought you'd be nice,” Killer said.

Dream widened his eyes and then…

A genuine laugh rang out of Dream. So loud and bright it almost made Killer jump. It was a sound that melted Killer a little, a weight slipping from his shoulders.

“Oh yes, well, excuse me for not being the goody goody embodiment of positivity”, he laughed again “, you caught me.”

“You’re actually a jerk that steals cigarettes.” He sniggered as he snatched his cigarette back. “It’s allllll an act.”

Dream placed his hands behind himself and leaned back on them, throwing his head back a little. He laughed for a little more.

“I may not be a ray of sunshine all the time, but... No…not all of it is an act.”

Dream had a distant gaze. “But the squeaky clean soft boy image has always been embellished.”

Killer didn’t say much, just nodding, encouraging Dream to continue.

“I was always friendly,” He explained, “but my manager told me playing it up was good for PR”.

There was a light spot of resentment in his voice. Recognisable frustration at the performative nature of the industry.

“It... used to not bother me. But sometimes I don't know when I'm pretending or not. I don’t always know who... the real me is.”

Killer knew exactly how he felt. In all honesty, he couldn't believe how he hadn't thought about it before. The more famous they became, the worse it got. This job was truly wonderful in many ways. But the expectations that came with it almost made it not worth it.

Dream sighed as he pulled his knees to his chest again.

“I think that's why…” Dreams' voice trailed off like he didn’t want to finish the sentence.

Killer, however, felt he knew where Dream was going with this. “That's why you and I happened.”

The awkward energy hung high in the air. It swirled around the two of them like cigarette smoke. The regret and shame of the act were still weighing heavily. While Killer wished Dream hadn't brought it up, he understood what he meant.

“Hey, I get it. You got tired of being Mr. perfect and wanted to... well.. mess stuff up. Take control.” He chuckled, but it felt hollow. “I’m good at turning good boys bad.”

“......”

Killer kinda winced at himself. The words sounded better in his head.. Now saying them out loud felt very inappropriate.

Dream had a half smile. “You don’t get to claim all the credit. I was already bad before meeting you.”

At that, Killer offered a small smile.

“Killer….” Dream started, leaning to tiredly rest his head on Killer’s shoulder. Killer couldn't help but tense slightly, yet didn't move away. He glanced at Dream, whose eyes sleepily scanned the city skyline.

“.....”

“Thank you….for being a friend..”

A friend?

He couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. Perhaps it was childish…but it was nice.

“Of course, Dream…”

***********************************

All in all, the event had gone alright for Nightmare. Despite who was in attendance, he'd managed to leave mostly drama-free.

Throughout the night, he'd gotten the sense that his brother had wanted to talk to him. Those golden eyes had been following him around. But Night had enough sense to stay away. Any chance of a civil conversation had been thrown out the window the moment he showed up as Killer's date. Nightmare wasn't sure if it was Dream's way of trying to brag, but it didn't matter. His brother was as good as dead to him.

He cursed himself as he caught himself eyeing Killer. That bastard, Killer, looked deliciously handsome all night.

The low-cut top, carrying himself with confidence and charm, and flashing his signature smile, Killer made sure to give as much fan service as possible. How Nightmare loathed the reaction his body had to that skeleton monster. The warmth had flooded his bones right to the core.

In any other circumstance, Nightmare would have ended the night in his hotel room.

That fact made him hate Killer all the more.

And then there was Cross. He hadn't helped much either. Tall and gorgeous. A sight that sent Nightmare back to the night outside the bar, getting grabbed in those hands.

This is why he was single-handedly depleting bottles of wine. He kept himself mostly to the corner of the room. Even so, he managed to make small talk with the guests of honour and others his manager suggested would be good to network with.

He was waiting out the hours until he could leave without being rude. So after deciding he’d been there long enough, he made his swift escape to his hotel.

At least the talk with Cross had gone to plan. They could put everything behind them and in the past….even if Nightmare would always want more.

*knock knock knock*

Was someone knocking at his hotel door? Now that was strange, surely it was too late in the day for the maid. He stared at the door, as his thoughts whispered the possibility of it being Killer.

It couldn’t be, but it wouldn’t be the first time they followed each other to their hotel rooms.

Another set of knocks followed. He shook his head. It probably wasn’t Killer, as he would have said something gross by now. And, it’s not like he wanted to see Killer anyway.

He opened the door, only to be greeted by the last person he would have expected.

“.....”

“Cross?”

He blinked a few times. Trying to make sure he wasn’t a figment of his imagination. Cross was still there.

Of course, he'd show up right when he was fantasizing about him.

He furrowed his brow bones, perhaps it was wishful thinking, but Cross seemed bothered. There was a look in his eyes that Nightmare recognised. It was the same look he'd given him outside the bar right before locking mouths together.

“Hello, Nightmare.”

Nightmare didn't want to jump to conclusions, but a purple stain was also starting to work itself across the other's face. That shameful, all-telling blush combined with the look in his eyes was dangerous. It sent a shiver down his spine.

"You'd better give me a good reason for calling on my room this time of night.”

Cross’ face didn't give much away, but his eyes locked with Night’s in a way that made his knees go jelly.

“I knew you were staying at the same hotel….and I wanted some…” There was a little pause as Night could see the way he searched for an appropriate word, “company.”

His eyes flicked up and down Night's frame, which almost caused a moan to slip from Nightmare’s mouth. Thankfully, he kept himself composed.

He let his eyes devour Cross before smirking, "Isn’t it past your bedtime, old man? I thought you'd be tired after the party.”

Cross furrowed his brows. “You’ve thought wrong, I could stay up all night,” Cross replied.

The way he hung on the words ‘all night’, bounced around Night’s head, heating his bones more and more.

"Hm,” He leaned against the door frame, a coy smile forming on his lips. “Really, old man?”

A beautiful frown appeared on the other.

“Yes, I can.” Frustration bubbling to the surface. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

"I could... but why would I do that....”

Cross’s frown only deepened, regret starting to flash across his face.

Nightmare noticed, even though he wasn’t sure if he wanted what Cross was implying, he didn’t want Cross to leave just yet.

"Saw you fighting with Killer, is something on your mind, Cross?”

OK, now he knew that Night was messing with him. There was just a dash too much amusement in his tone. Well, two could play this game.

“You saw that? Guess I shouldn’t be surprised… Don’t like it when Killer attention is elsewhere other than you, right?”

Nightmare’s eyes narrowed. "Shove off,” He spat, making a move to slam the door in his face.

But all Cross has to do is place his hand on the door to hold it open, and Nightmare had to start questioning if he had a thing for strong hands.

“I’m not done.”

That tone and words had no right to the chokehold it had on him. It made his legs weak.

“Of course you’re not.” He gripped the door hard to ground himself. “So…what are you here for?”

“I think you know why I’m here…” Cross said, face falling serious. There was no question as to what Cross was indirectly saying.

It was a bad idea. He should say no. Tell Cross to leave before this web of lies, deceit, and hatred worsens.

"Let’s say.. I do know. What makes you think I want the same?”

A stupid question, really. Ten minutes ago, he'd been thinking about so many things he shouldn't have. His soul was hammering, but he was trying to remind himself of what his PR manager said.

"I saw you staring at me earlier, when I walked down the red carpet. And,” Cross locked eyes with him, “you haven’t said no.”

Darn it.

“A bit egotistical, don’t you think?” He snipped back. But as Cross lent his weight on the doorframe and towered over him, Nightmare almost dropped to his knees……

"Alright, Moony, let me in or don't.” He pulled away. “But if I walk away now, I won't come back.”

The logical side of Nightmare finally lost the battle. He stepped to the side, allowing Cross inside.

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