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He never should have let it happen in the first place. Dream had been manic earlier in the day, one of those moods that made Punz question what the hell he was doing here. But every time, Dream would sink into mind-numbing planning afterwards, a tinge of exhaustion in all of his words and those reminders of how wicked he is absent for the moment. His shoulders slump in a way that reminds Punz he’s still human and Dream’s concept of personal space disappears, pressing against his business partner’s side without a thought to reach something on the table.
With plans and stresses constantly crowding his thoughts, small nudges like those serve to remind Punz he has needs too. Needs for emotional connection and friendship and things outside of these cold, emotionless nights full of blunt words and evil intentions. But he’d lost that when he’d gone all-in with Dream. All connections are fake and shrouded in deception, all except this one with Dream that lays bare between them, painted with ultimate trust despite themselves.
So, when Dream leans a hip against their work table late one night, meeting his gaze with narrowed green eyes, fingers splayed on the surface to his right, and tells Punz he’s bored, well, the man didn’t have many choices.
“What do you want me to do about it, Dream? The whole point of this,” he gestures to the plans spread in front of him, “Is to fix your boredom.”
“Yeah, and we’ve been at it all day,” Dream says leaning in closer and holding Punz’s gaze, “And I’m bored.”
Punz rolls his eyes, turning to face him fully. This isn’t the first time the man has come at him with this complaint, but usually he yells it a few times before picking up his axe and leaving to do who-knows-what. This time, he’s intense, the same kind of intense Punz has seen him use on enemies, and it makes his skin crawl. “Again, what do you want me to do about it?”
“I don’t know, Punz, something new. I picked you because you’re smart, you know,” Dream says with a smirk.
Curling a hand into the front of Dream’s shirt, Punz ignores the implication that he had no say in this partnership, instead bringing the other man’s face closer to his own. “I get sick of you sometimes, you know that?” Punz asks, gaze flicking down to smirking lips. Before Dream has time for another taunting remark, their lips are meeting in a harsh kiss, both biting and neither forgiving, as they tumble into their first sexual altercation.
Punz comes to think of them as altercations. There’s no give, only take, and neither man survives them without looking like he spent an evening fighting for his life. Very little is off limits, and Punz learns things he feels like he isn’t supposed to know. The one time he comes close to fearing Dream is during the second time it happens.
He can’t remember what taunt Dream used to goad him into it the second time, but he’s kissing down the other man’s neck with fervor, images of the last time flashing through his mind. When Dream smacks his ass and pushes him against the table, Punz retaliates with teeth. Almost immediately, a hand is wound through his hair and yanks him off hard, neck forced back so he has to look up into Dream’s blown out pupils, the venom there nearly overriding lust. “Do not mark my neck,” Dream growls, hot breath against Punz’s lips. He spits and it lands sticky on Punz’s cheek. The fingers in his hair hold firm as Dream’s eyes track the wetness until it drips off his jaw. Punz scoffs as his face is shoved back into the other man’s skin, but he knows from that display he’s not going to win the fight for dominance tonight no matter how hard he tries.
Occasionally, though, he does, and that is when Punz feels he’s been gifted with forbidden information. He’s figuring out how to bring Dream to his knees, push him into that headspace so the other man lets him fuck him stupid. He’s under no delusion that Dream isn’t learning these same things about him, but to have the man who has toyed with the submission of countless people and manipulated so many into compliance trembling under his fingertips, well, he won’t say it isn’t a power trip. When it happens, Dream comes back with a vengeance the next time and Punz doesn’t mind that at all.
They never talk about it. Punz comes to think of it as a necessary human release for two men walking the line of human and something else. Maybe it’s the one thing keeping them human. He doesn’t know how Dream thinks of it and he doesn’t want to know.
“Fuck, oh my god,” Punz curses into the cushions of the couch Dream has him bent over the arm of, fucking him without a single ounce of mercy.
“Consider this punishment for tomorrow’s betrayal,” Dream says with a breathy laugh.
“Your plan, you- ah- bastard,” Punz groans. Instead of responding, Dream shoves a couple of fingers in his mouth and thrusts impossibly faster, free hand pressing down on Punz’s back. Drooling over the fingers in his mouth and cock hanging neglected between his legs, Punz dwells on the reminder of their looming separation. For the first time, perhaps, he treasures the feel of Dream against him and wonders absently if he’ll miss it.
Dream’s thrusts get harder as he finally hits his prostate intentionally, pressing his fingers in further until Punz gags and is thrown into his orgasm, making a mess of the couch while Dream fills him up. They catch their breath and then Dream’s touch is gone.
Punz grabs a towel from where they now keep them in the workroom and wipes Dream’s cum from between his legs with a grimace. Once he has his clothes back on, he turns around to find Dream fully dressed and pouring over their plans again. This is business. He won’t miss him.
Days turn to weeks turn to months. Punz misses a second presence in their workroom, but he tells himself every day he doesn’t miss Dream. His thoughts turn to correcting minor issues with plans gone slightly askew and he dives into working almost as much as Dream did before he went to prison.
Without Dream’s presence, Punz finds it easier to rekindle friendships, finds there aren’t as many reasons to lie, fewer things to cover up, and learns how to exist without Dream again. But as he works late nights all alone in that room, Punz hates that he craves bruises on his neck and nails dug into his thighs, that intense gaze that’s impossible to look away from.
At first, he mostly feels relief. It's easier to keep up appearances without hiding his rendezvous with Dream. But friendships he's less afraid to engage in now slowly turn to loneliness. He's alone in this secret, alone in wanting Dream out, especially as the prison stay extends past the deadline Dream told him. There's nothing he can do. There are countless late nights of staring at the ceiling, itching to get up and make an appointment for a prison visit. But he doesn't. Fear holds him captive.
When the last deep scratch in his back is gone and the final bite mark on his thigh has faded, Punz's chest begins to ache. He tells himself he just misses their collisions, the unpredictability and the trajectory that would eventually set them crashing and burning. He pretends not to think about Dream's genuine laughs that would sneak through late at night or the offering of a piece of bread or an apple when they've been working too long.
The longer Dream is in prison, the quicker Punz's hesitantly rekindled friendships die again. He's been falling asleep in the workroom so much that he eventually brings a bed in. Alone, he tries to puzzle out how to get Dream out of prison, even though Dream promised him over and over that he had a plan. He checks and re-checks the coordinates for the meetup spot until he has them memorized, ensures the set of armor and weapons he has for Dream are polished and ready. He waits. He waits for Dream, waits for the alarm, and ignores the emotions pushing at the edges of his mind. He wants Dream back.
Punz is probably the most prepared out of anyone for the day of the escape, perhaps even more than the ones breaking him out. He'd spent every day since the approximate deadline Dream had given preparing, ear cocked for the sound of an alarm.
He’s ready when Sam calls on him and Sapnap, running to the south side of the prison so fast his lungs burn for a while after he gets there. Again he waits, thoughts willing Dream and Techno to get out of there faster. Tommy’s words make him want to clap his hands over his ears, but instead he listens. Tommy professes the horrible things Dream has done to him and they cut Punz deeper than they should. He can’t help but wonder if he’s just another of Dream’s pawns.
But he’s different. He knows that. All doubts wash away the moment he sees Dream’s head break the surface of the sea outside the prison. His face is covered in blood that’s made worse by the water and a tired body struggles to get to shore with all that armor already on. Despite everything, he still fights just as well. Though Punz knows he can't say anything to him, he steps in close, delivers some fake blows, mentally begs for Dream to meet his eyes, but he never does.
It's an exhausting hour of acting, but eventually Punz breaks away and heads for the rendezvous point. He could almost cry he's so happy when he finds Dream there. Dream sounds happy to see him too. The escaped prisoner won't stand still for a moment, immediately grabbing the armor from his hands when Punz offers it and securing it quickly with nimble and bloody fingers. His hair is matted and his eyes have that crazy look in them. Maybe their reunion isn't exactly as Punz hoped, but he smiles as Dream runs off in the snow with the excuse of having lingered too long and a promise of seeing him soon.
It's three days before Punz sees him again and even then it's not intentional. Dream had said he'd give him a sign, so Punz had taken the time to relax, but after three days he wanted to be useful again. The sun is just setting when he makes his way into the secret workroom and nearly jumps when he finds Dream sitting at the table. He looks exhausted and ragged, armor hanging off of a thin frame in a way it didn't before. Punz takes a seat near him and Dream offers a slight smile. They slip into conversation that quickly becomes plans and Punz feels normal at last. But Dream speaks less than he used to, letting Punz run away with theories and ideas, mouth set in a grim line as he studies the map in front of him.
"Have you discovered new information about anyone's attachments?" Dream asks, tracing a finger over a spot on the map.
Punz tells him a list of things he learned, glad the relationships he's somewhat kept outside of Dream can be useful. Dream just nods in response and they fall into silence. Punz watches him for a while, observes half healed injuries and dark bags under his eyes, notes how he keeps his left shoulder from touching the back of the chair. "Do you have attachments?"
The look Dream pulls is probably supposed to be a scowl, but it comes out as more of a grimace. "No. I severed them." He retreats back to silence for another moment before he looks up suddenly, catching Punz staring. "I think I'm starting to understand your attachments, Punz." A smirk creeps onto his face, "Do you even know what they are?"
A handful of things flit through Punz's mind before he realizes what it actually is and it makes him shutter. His attachment is sitting right in front of him and he feels disgusted with himself. Dream's smirk only widens as he watches his partner sort through those emotions and his attention returns to the map.
Punz has his chin resting on his fist, nearly falling asleep, when Dream speaks again. "Where does George live now?"
He's wide awake once he registers the question. Something flares in his chest as he thinks about the way Dream's tongue curls around the name. He says it in a tone that he never uses with anyone else. "Kinoko Kingdom, I think," Punz answers flatly, "Apparently he sleeps almost all the time now like some kind of sleeping beauty." He scoffs, expecting Dream to laugh or at least crack a smile, but he doesn't.
Time ticks by in the silent room and Punz only breaks it when his chin slips off his fist for the third time. "We should probably get some sleep. You must be exhausted. You can have the bed, I'll take the couch."
Dream shakes his head, "I can only sleep for about half an hour at a time these days. You can go home, Punz. I have work to do."
"Come on, Dream, you need a break even if you won't sleep. You haven't even cleaned up since escaping, you've still got dried blood everywhere," Punz says, standing and walking toward him. Dream flinches when he rests a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm fine."
"You're stupid."
"Go home, Punz."
"Make me." Dream turns to look up at him with a raised eyebrow and Punz grins, "At least take your armor off and lie down. I can even help you relax, if you know what I mean. I won't even fight you this time."
The other man stares down at the table for a long moment before giving in, pushing back his chair and beginning to take off his armor. Punz wets a rag for him so he'll clean up too and then minds his own business for a while, giving him space.
When Punz's attention returns to Dream, he's laying on the bed on top of the covers in only his underwear, arm over his eyes. Punz has to hold back a gasp at the ruined skin on display, nasty cuts and blooming bruises and burns, so many burns that he doubts will ever heal properly. Every single one of Dream's ribs stick out, more pronounced each time he breathes. He looks like a grotesque painting. He’d taken the time to cut his hair short. Though it’s choppy, it’s much better than before. Punz doesn't even realize he's reaching out a hand to touch him when Dream's arm slides off his eyes.
He snatches his hand back and asks, "What the hell happened, Dream?"
The man laughs without humor, "I went to prison, Punz."
Punz rolls his eyes, "Yeah, in isolation! Did you do this to yourself?"
Dream clears his throat, eyes going anywhere other than Punz's face. "Quackity tortured me for the book."
"How did he get past Sam?"
"Sam let him." Dream meets his eyes again and Punz sees unbridled anger in green irises and tense shoulders. "They'll pay."
Punz nods, gaze drifting down his body again. He feels anger too, but a small part of him whispers that the man before him deserved it. No. No one deserves this.
Lifting himself on an elbow, Dream sits up halfway and wraps a hand around the back of Punz's neck, pulling him down for a sloppy kiss, pulling and pulling and pulling until they're forced to come up for air. All their time apart comes crashing down on their heads and Punz climbs onto the bed between Dream's legs, stripping his shirt off before kissing him again.
"You gonna fuck me, Punz?" Dream asks with a grin as the other man kisses roughly down his torso, avoiding the injuries. "You gonna fuck me like you mean it?"
"This is the last time we're doing this," Punz warns as he rids him of his last piece of clothing.
Dream laughs, throws his head back and laughs, as he wraps a loose hand around his cock, Punz opening him up with only spit for lube. "Sure, Punz, it's the last time."
He glares up at Dream, but doesn't stop his work, knowing no matter how much prep he does, it's still going to hurt the other man. That's never been a thought for either of them before, but this time Punz worries.
Dream stops him after two fingers and some hasty scissoring and Punz opens his mouth to protest, words stopped by only a look. "Pain is all that's left to me," Dream says, guiding him up for a harsh kiss, "Just do it."
"Stupid," Punz mutters before doing as told, struggling to get out of his pants and then leaning back to line up, a couple rough strokes on his own cock forcing him to swallow down a moan.
For once, Dream stays quiet as he presses in, lip clamped between his teeth and expression twisted in concentration. Punz lets a hardy glob of spit fall from his mouth between them and then carefully gives a shallow thrust. The groan that bursts from Dream’s throat is a sound Punz could listen to for the rest of his life, so he keeps moving to hear it again. He leans down with his elbows on either side of Dream’s head, thrusting slowly and steadily, watching Dream’s face for signs that he’s adjusted.
After several long minutes of deep breaths and holding back, Dream’s eyes crack open and he smirks at the man above him, “I know you can do better than that.”
Punz rolls his eyes and thrusts a little harder, “You’re injured, Dream, I’m not gonna-”
“I know you’ve been having second doubts, Punz. Fuck me like you hate me.” Sinewy thighs press into Punz’s hips, urging him closer, faster. Blunt nails rake down his back and he hopes they leave marks.
“What if I did hate you?”
Dream grins, “You don’t.” Punz leans down to bite at his lips just so he won’t say anything else, shifting the angle of his thrusts until Dream moans out a low, “Fuck.” Having found the right spot, he picks up the pace, but it’s still not enough for the insatiable man.
“You’ve gone soft, Punz,” Dream says with a lazy grin, reaching down to jerk his cock with a pace that matches his partner’s. As much as he tries to act nonchalant, Punz can see the strain in his neck and the flush in his cheeks, so he bites at the skin just under his jaw, but not hard enough to leave a mark. Heels dig into his back as he starts to lose his grip, growing closer to orgasm and more irritated with Dream. The slapping of skin and panting breaths fill the room, but even as he reaches the edge, that annoying smile is still on Dream’s face.
“Fuck me like you- ah- hate me,” Dream says again, firm hand pulling Punz down for a meeting of lips barely resembling a kiss, breathing in each other’s mouths and biting at each other’s tongues. “Fuck me like you aren’t falling in love with me.”
Punz shoves a hand over his mouth too late; the words are in the air now and they make his eyes sting. He glares daggers at Dream as he completely abandons his resolve, fucking into the man like he wants to break him. Maybe he does. “Shut the fuck up,” he growls, nails digging into Dream’s cheek almost hard enough to make him bleed.
Dream’s eyes slip shut as he’s finally satisfied with the brutal pace, whimpering against Punz’s hand until he moves it to the headboard for better leverage. A string of incomprehensible curses flows from his mouth as he gets lost in ecstasy. Punz sees and feels Dream cum between them, but he doesn’t slow down until he’s blinded by his own release, breath stolen from his lungs and the name of the other man barely kept inside his mouth.
On shaky arms and legs, Punz keeps from collapsing on top of his partner, still worried about the injuries that cover him. He climbs off the bed and casts one glance over the obscene and messy scene. Dream is spread out on top of the rumpled covers, skin covered in ugly red wounds and scars, legs spread with cum dripping between them. His breathing is still slowing down and his eyes remain closed, hands idle at his sides. Punz surrenders to the routines of their previous hookups, leaving Dream to clean himself up. He manages to pull on some pants before collapsing on the couch and falling asleep.
When he wakes a few hours later, Dream is dressed, including his armor, and sitting at the table again. Punz joins him and is quickly presented with the beginnings of a new plan and they both proceed like nothing ever happened.
If Punz gives in the next time a sharp smile and lust filled eyes are thrown his way, well, he’s not the first nor the last to surrender to Dream. He never should have let it happen in the first place.