Staggedduo. Punz, after the Egg, started smoking to cope. When Dream escapes prison they quit, both because Dream's newly fragile health can't take it and because Dream worries about them.
--
Punz trudged into their bedroom, inhaling deeply as they made one final push to the bed, before collapsing into a heap on top of it. The soft comforter smelled freshly washed, and he sent a small prayer of gratitude to Dream for making the effort, if only on Punz's behalf.
A four-fingered hand rested lightly on top of their head and began to skritch.
"Long day?" Dream murmured. Punz made a noise that was muffled by the bed. He knew Dream understood though. He always did.
He heard the sound of a book being set on the bedside table, before hands were gently tugging on their shoulders. Groaning, they pushed themselves up, letting Dream reposition them until they were sheltered in his arms. Surprisingly steady hands wrapped around him, and Punz buried their face into his shoulder to hide away from the light that seemed to hurt their eyes the longer they were exposed to it.
Dream rubbed soothing circles into his back. "Do you need anything?"
He needed to never move again. He needed the ache in his muscles to go away with a bone deep pressure. He needed people to stop being so fucking stupid and horrible to talk to, and he needed Dream to stay right here.
"I'm good." Punz mumbled. Fingers gently ran through his hair, picking out the blood.
They stayed like that for a while, Punz soaking in the quiet that had been denied to him all day. Dream seemed content to hold him in silence, and Punz let their mind drift until they began to doze, the knowledge of absolute safety loosening the tension that they'd been holding for so long.
Dream leaned in, and suddenly he sniffed.
"You smell like smoke."
It was a mild tone. It was a dangerous tone. Punz untangled themselves from Dream just enough to meet his eyes. "I didn't-"
Dream pulled at the fabric of his hood to bring it to his nose. He grimaced. "It's on your clothes, too. Punz?"
"I wasn't smoking." Punz shook his head, fighting the urge to get defensive. It made sense, it was just a question, but God did he want to just. Throw this entire shitty day further into the trash. "I ran into Wilbur. He was going through a pack."
Dream's expression turned sour, before smoothing out into something gentler. "Are you alright?"
No. He wasn't. Punz sagged into his arms.
"Yeah, it was fine. Just annoying." A moment passed. "He offered me one."
Dream sucked in a breath. Fingers gripped tightly into the back of his hoodie, and Punz could sense the murderous intent. It was nice, to be cared about so deeply. It felt good. Like maybe even if he could still feel the itch in his head, it was worth it to turn down the nicotine if it was because someone was actually giving a shit about his health. Giving a shit about him.
"I'm sorry." Dream said. There were fingers scratching at his scalp again. "We can kill him if you want."
Punz laughed tiredly. "I'm good. Just wasn't expecting it. Better to lay low, anyway."
Dream hummed. It was meaningless noise. Then it was a tune, something vaguely familar that made their eyes droop. They pressed their face into his shoulder again.
"Your eyes are blue, by the way." Dream whispered into their ear. He began to hum again. Punz let themselves drift again, safe. Always safe, with Dream.
