Chapter Text
The enormous room is exactly as it has always been, and it is completely different.
The curtains billow, the chandeliers sway, the gold capillaries in the marble floors travel out in every direction forever. But, there is a thrumming energy that vibrates in every impossible atom in this impossible room.
John stands in the distance. His gray shoulders are a stark, contrasting color to the deep red velvet. He is the same as he has always been, and he is entirely different. He thrums with energy.
Arthur?
His voice, everywhere. In and out. In the base of Arthur’s stomach, on the crest of Arthur’s cheeks. It thrums.
“John.”
John stands in front of him, inches away. His golden eyes flit across Arthur’s face, searching, questioning, studying.
Arthur thrums.
Do you—
Arthur yanks John down by his baggy sleep shirt collar and kisses him. Deeply.
John staggers with an Mmph!, his eyes nearly crossing with surprise. Arthur pulls harder.
“John?” Arthur impatiently says against his lips.
John shakes his head, springing to life. Right, yes, thank God—
John crashes their lips together again. His hands wrap around Arthur’s waist, large fingers nearly encircling him completely, and he grips Arthur hard. A desperate gasp is ripped from both of their throats in unison.
John’s lips are soft and feverishly warm. They wrap around Arthur’s inexpertly, but with ambition and fervor that tastes like exultation. The sheer relief of John’s lips sliding between his would make Arthur faint if he were not a man on a mission. Arthur releases his tight grip on John’s collar, scraping his fingernails through the coarse hair on John’s chest as his hands travel upward. John’s body practically convulses underneath his touch. Arthur’s hands slink up and around the thick muscles of John’s neck, and he pulls John ever deeper into the kiss.
John stumbles again, nearly toppling them both. Arthur would laugh if his tongue weren’t busy snaking behind John’s teeth, physically pulling whines out of him. John involuntarily digs his fingernails into Arthur’s back as he struggles to find their balance, and Arthur finds himself whining in chorus.
Jesus, Arthur— John pants heavily, breaking for a moment to stabilize them.
“Why are we stopping? ” John’s lips are forced back onto Arthur’s and John’s eyelids flutter wildly.
Arthur squeezes every muscle that he can reach. John’s body is corded with them, and Arthur marvels at their resistance against his firm grip. John follows his lead, but he is far more gentle with Arthur’s slight frame. While Arthur's clutches linger, John seems to want to touch every inch of Arthur’s body at once.
Arthur cannot fully comprehend the overwhelming incandescence of his own body. He is glowing, molten lava. He is a twinkling firework. He is popped champagne. Every caress of John’s wide fingers leaves an everlasting trail of fire, and Arthur will gladly burn.
John’s kisses have switched from thorough, passionate things to frenzied quick pecks on Arthur’s lips and all over his face. Arthur giggles through the assailment.
Arthur, John says quietly, in between pecks, with an ardor that makes Arthur’s toes tingle. He punctatues every word with a kiss: Do — You — Believe — Me — Now?
Arthur responds with bubbling laughter, “I think I’d better, at this point.”
John gives a short, low chuckle before turning his efforts to Arthur’s neck. Arthur shudders violently.
“John— ”
John pulls Arthur’s skin between his teeth, teetering the line between gently and sharply. Arthur’s hands scramble up John’s body and behind his head, clawing through John’s short hair.
“John—!”
Arthur feels the rumble of his laughter more than he hears it. John presses smiley kisses back up Arthur’s neck and showers him with pecks on his lips again.
“Christ—” Arthur sounds winded. “Why didn’t— You tell me— Sooner—”
John stops abruptly to look Arthur square in the face, a particularly hysterical look of bewilderment in his golden eyes.
What? I did!
Arthur has whiplash from the sudden lack of movement. He does not at all like the lack of movement.
“W-what?”
When we were dancing! I told you this was me!
There continues to be far too much lack of movement. Arthur pulls John down by the lips again as his hands wander from John's neck toward his spine, peeking beneath his shirt collar.
“No— I mean— In reality—” He says between hot presses of his mouth.
What— Are you— Talking— About—!
“Why— Didn’t you— Ugh!” Arthur gives up on kissing in favor of scratching his nails down each of John’s vertebrae. “Why didn’t you tell me when we first started dreaming together?”
John trembles, and Arthur can feel goosebumps fly up John’s back. You said you— Ah— You said you didn’t remember these dreams! Why didn’t you say anyth— Ah! Arthur—
Arthur scrapes his fingers in one long stroke up John’s entire back, over his shoulders, and to his pectorals, where he gives a hearty squeeze. John arches into Arthur’s hands with a growl.
Arthur looks at John like he’s certifiable. “Are you mad, John?” John’s body shakes beneath Arthur’s grip.
Ah— What?
“I didn’t even know it was possible for you to dream with me! I assumed it was just… Normal dreaming!”
So?
“‘So?’” Arthur digs with his fingernails, earning himself a smothered cry. “You can’t just tell someone you’re having those kinds of dreams about them!”
Why not! Before Arthur can squeeze again, John grabs his hands and places them on his hip bones. Arthur squeezes the meatiest part of his sides with all the strength he can muster, and John roars.
“B-because that’s improper! That’s inappropriate! Especially with— Uh—” Arthur slides his fingertips under the hem of Jon’s shirt, partly to hear him pant again and partly to contemplate the worth of explaining societal norms. When John delivers an exceptionally titillating gasp, Arthur decides against that particular waste of time. “Fuck, John, that could’ve make our whole situation so awkward! Imagine if that’d made you uncomfortable!”
In one impressive swoop, John grabs the back of Arthur’s thighs and lifts him, pressing their chests together tightly. Arthur yelps in surprise, but reflexively wraps his legs around John’s middle. Arthur grabs ahold of John’s shoulders for balance as he rears himself back, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline when he finds himself looking downward at John. If he hadn’t been sweating before, he is now.
But I feel the same way, Arthur! John manages to say before Arthur assaults him with heated kisses.
“But— I didn’t— Know that— John—!” Arthur’s words are slurred by the commendable but unsuccessful acrobatics of his tongue. John slips away from his mouth and begins to suck bruises into Arthur’s neck. Arthur gasps through clenched teeth.
“We don’t— Ah— Act like this in real life— Fuck, John—” Arthur tears himself away from John’s lips and immediately has his revenge. John tenses with a strangled yell.
B-b-but— You know I— John sways unsteadily on his feet when Arthur nips right below his jaw. You know I care about you—
Arthur nips again. “That’s a long way from this!”
So you— You lied about remembering these dreams— He stumbles and sways again when Arthur nips his earlobe. Because you were scared?
“Yes, John!” Arthur pulls back to press their foreheads together. “For fuck’s sake, I had no idea how you’d react to this! I was worried I might have crossed a line! Crossed several lines— Kept crossing lines! And the further we got into the dreams...” Arthur cradles John’s face in his long, trembling fingers, “The more I’d have to admit to. And the more scared I got.”
John readjusts his grip to circle a soothing hand on Arthur’s lower back. His golden eyes are fraught with sympathy.
“But the dreams... They were— They were intoxicating,” Arthur plants a firm, close-mouthed kiss on his lips. “And I figured...”
John kisses him back in kind. What I didn’t know wouldn’t hurt me?
“Exactly.”
So long as I never found out.
“And you’ve always been too nosy for your own good.” Arthur pinches John’s nose playfully.
In this particular instance, Arthur, John presses Arthur to him, forearm aligned with Arthur’s spine. Then, he grazes his tongue along the roof of Arthur’s mouth, eliciting a warbled cry, and says, I’m rather glad that I am.
Arthur, slightly debauched but mostly enamored, chuckles fondly. With all of the sincerity in his heart, Arthur replies, “As am I.”
It’s challenging to kiss someone who is smiling so wide, but Arthur is a determined man. After a few false starts of probing John’s mouth with his tongue and sucking on thin lips one at a time, he grabs John’s cheeks with enough force to send John’s eyebrows skyrocketing upward, and he physically pushes John’s lips into a pout.
When Arthur sinks his teeth in John’s lower lip, John’s legs finally give out.
With a simultaneous Oof!, Arthur finds himself splayed out on the marble floor, pinned by a beast with a rabid look in his eyes.
Arthur squirms beneath John’s spine-tingling gaze. His heart pounds so fiercely, he can feel his back beating against the floor. The marble is not kind to his shoulder blades.
John grasps both of Arthur’s wrists as he straddles Arthur’s narrow hips, and Arthur is paralyzed.
In one lightning-fast motion, John slides those wrists along the floor until Arthur’s elbows lock, and he bites down hard on Arthur’s neck.
Arthur's primal scream lasts for all of half a second before his rational brain catches up to him. He snaps his jaw shut, his tightly closed lips like a dam against a roaring flood. John immediately releases, scanning Arthur’s face with mounting concern.
Are you—? I-I’m sorry, was that—
“Not painful! Nope. No pain here.” John gives him the most perplexed look. “I’d like to stay in this one, thank you.”
Uh. John has a trace of doubt in his eyes, but he acquiesces. Good? Okay... Wait, what do you mean ‘stay in this one’?
Arthur wriggles uncomfortably against the hard, flat marble. “Y-you don’t remember...?”
Remember what?
“Well,” Arthur coughs, “This isn’t the first dream you, uh, tried to kiss me.”
John's face goes cherry red. He bolts upright, falling backward onto Arthur's lap. Arthur’s vision briefly goes white.
You vanished! The whole room vanished right when I— You were in pain?
“No, no, I wasn’t! Quite the opposite, actually, uh—” Arthur props himself up on his elbows to face John properly. “But, er, there’s a very thin line between pain and pleasure, and— Well, let’s just say my subconscious wasn’t prepared for all of the nuance.” Arthur gives an embarrassed smile.
Jesus fucking Christ, Arthur! John balls his fists. Do you have any idea what that was like for me!
“Listen, John—”
A nightmare, you called it! A fucking nightmare, Arthur?
“I didn’t say a nightmare, I said a bad — Look. I panicked, okay? I was trying to get you off my case a-and I— I’m sorry. Truly. Deeply. It wasn’t a nightmare; I never thought that! I’m sorry, John, I am.” Arthur places a delicate hand over John’s fist.
“...But what was I meant to do when I woke up shaking and you wouldn’t let it go!”
Be honest for once in your fucking life!
“You said it didn’t matter to you anyway!”
Because I was mortified! You said my foolhardy attempt to kiss you was your worst fucking nightmare! Why would I admit to that!
Arthur rubs his thumb in a gentle circle over John’s tightly curled fingers, and he purses his lips sympathetically.
“…Okay, I never said the worst —”
ARTHUR— John cuts himself off with a thunderous growl, gripping Arthur by the sleep shirt and colliding his forehead with it. He heaves a massive sigh into Arthur’s stomach.
We are, by far, the undisputed worst communicators on the entire fucking planet.
Arthur chuckles, rubbing John’s shoulder comfortingly. “I’m afraid you’re right about that one.”
Mostly you, though.
“I—!”
John’s head snaps up. You’re going to remember this, right? When you wake up?
“Yes, John. I’ve remembered all of them. I won’t stop now.”
And you’re going to tell me you remember this, right?
“Cross my heart!”
And we’re going to be able to act like this is reality?
Arthur stills his hand. “Y-you want to?”
What? Yes, Arthur! Obviously!
“I-I-I mean, sure, then. Yes, we can... We can act like this is the real world. I suppose— Well, it wouldn’t quite be exactly like this, b-but the, uh, sentiment will be there.”
John stares into Arthur’s eyes, hope set deep in the rings of gold. I love you, Arthur.
Arthur smiles shyly. “Yes, John, you’ve told me before. And I, you.”
No, Arthur, that’s not— It’s more than that. I’ve loved you as a friend for a long time, but... But now, after all of this— He exhales sharply.
I adore you.
Arthur feels a different kind of heat rise to his cheeks. Something sweeter, something timeless.
“John...”
I adore you, Arthur. I am so lucky to have found you.
Arthur tugs at John’s chin with his fingertips. Arthur kisses him softly, tenderly.
“Yes, I... I very much feel the same way.”
John kisses him back, then Arthur replies, then John, then Arthur, then John, and they trade gentle kisses until Arthur’s back is on the floor again and his shoulder blades are really starting to complain.
You’d better sit up before you vanish again.
“You are not kidding.”
Here. John helps him up, maintaining his seat in Arthur’s lap.
“Not really sure why we’re still on this fucking marble floor,” Arthur grumbles while John rubs his sore shoulders.
Does it have to be?
“What?”
Does it have to be marble? Can’t we just... Make it something else? It’s our dream, right?
Arthur hums. “That’s quite a good point, actually.”
What would you prefer?
Arthur ponders for a moment. Then, he digs his thumbs into creases of John’s hips, making John’s breath hitch. Suddenly they are, and have always been, sitting on top of plush, rippling, red velvet curtains.
John looks at the bare walls in surprise, then twists a bit of the soft curtains between his fingers. Hm. Very creative, Arthur.
“Anything you’d like to add?”
John taps his chin. Actually, yes.
There is, and has always been, a quiet cello somewhere in the distance.
How’s that?
Arthur tilts his head, considering. “I think we could do better, actually.”
Oh?
John is not currently, and has never been, wearing a shirt.
John’s face darkens to the deepest shade of red Arthur has seen yet. Arthur snickers, tracing John's jaw with one finger.
“I think I figured out...” Arthur walks his fingers down the center of John’s neck, feeling him swallow.
“...Why there are red velvet curtains here.” He walks his fingers down the center of John’s bare chest, feeling him shiver.
W-why is that, Arthur?
“Well, I’ve always found them to be...” He walks his fingers down the center of John’s stomach, feeling him tense.
“Quite fitting decor...” He pauses his fingers just beneath John’s navel, feeling him tense.
“...For a bit of lasciviousness.”
Arthur winks. John’s pupils eclipse his irises.
“Wouldn’t you agree, John?”
The cello plays enthusiastically.
—————————————————————————
Arthur becomes aware of his breathing first, then the rough texture of the cushion beneath his hand, then the blinking of his eyelids. His consciousness trickles in like a steady stream, gradually floating him into the waking world on its current. He takes a deep inhale, and then he sighs it out contentedly.
Good morning.
Arthur smiles, stretching all of his limbs at once, luxuriating in the heady feeling of bonelessness as he sinks deeper into the couch cushions. “Indeed,” he murmurs.
Almost shyly, John’s hand comes up to rest on Arthur’s chest. Did you... Did you have a nice dream?
Without hesitation, Arthur scoops up John’s hand and presses a firm kiss to his palm. John chuckles, a bit surprised and a lot pleased. Arthur presses more kisses to his knuckles, the back of his hand, and his wrist as he says,
“Absolutely. And you?”
It was wonderful, Arthur.
John’s hand nuzzles against Arthur’s face, giving one meaningful swipe of his thumb over Arthur’s bottom lip. Arthur shivers.
And quite a relief, if I’m honest.
“Seconded.”
I’m glad I can be... Open, now. With you.
“And I, with you!”
I love you, Arthur.
Arthur presses a kiss to the pad of John’s thumb. “My friend, how I love you.”
Though I maintain that this was mostly your fault.
“You don’t have to ruin the moment, John.”
Well, then. John lovingly pats Arthur’s cheek. What should we do now?
“Well!” Another kiss. “I’m feeling well-rested. You?”
Quite.
“And the only thing on our schedule is our afternoon appointment with Mr. Harrison.”
True.
“...Which I’m willing to push.”
Arthur! John gasps, mock scandalized.
“We could reschedule him for Friday.”
We certainly could.
“Which would leave today completely free.”
It certainly would.
“So,” Arthur glides his fingers up John’s until their fingertips are aligned. “Shall we do a little rescheduling?”
Hm. John wiggles their fingers together. Depends. What else are you proposing?
“We could pop over to that fancy new apartment complex down the block, take a look around.”
There’s an idea.
“We could get ourselves spiffed up and head to the dance hall for a waltz.”
Or a tango?
“Or a tango!”
Also very tempting...
“We could even... Take a trip to the lake?”
Hmm. You drive a hard bargain.
“If we get up now, we could make a picnic lunch. Pack some extra bread for the ducks?”
Hmm...
“And we’ve got plenty of money for another trolley ride!”
John chuckles. You win, Arthur. That sounds perfect.
“The luxury trolley convinces you? You are not a cheap date; you know that, right?
I was sold the moment you mentioned the lake, actually.
“And you haggled for more! Right bastard, you are!”
We’ll need to leave soon?
“What time is it now?”
John pauses as Arthur turns his head toward the coffee table. A bit past seven.
“I swear that alarm clock has slowed down since I—”
Nearly split it in two? Arthur huffs. It's correct, Arthur, I’ve reset it recently.
“Then yes, we’ll need to leave soon. Let’s get up to call Mr. Har—”
Or.
Arthur frowns. “...Or?”
John lightly runs his fingertip down the center of Arthur’s lips, catching his bottom lip with a gentle tug.
Or, we could go back to sleep for a few minutes.
Arthur smiles giddily, rolls himself onto his side, and intertwines both their hands against his heart.
“Or, we could go back to sleep for a few minutes.”