Chapter Text
Fundy never noticed before how Dream never changed with the people and world around them, standing tall as a steady constant in an ever-changing rush of events. To be honest, it was probably because he wasn’t bothered at all or had anything to really check it against.
It was only after Dream teasingly pointed out that his stubble was growing back after Fundy went on a rant about the razors he was forced to use in Manberg since Schlatt took all of them one night that he really took notice.
“Your chin is all scratchy when you give me kissies,” Dream pouted, leaning against the shorter man. Fundy rolled his eyes, pressing a chaste one against the mask. “You need to shave, dumbass.”
“Acting like you’re much better,” He grumbled, scrunching up his nose at the former.
Dream’s breathy wheeze was contagious, and he had to suppress his own chuckles to stay ‘mad’ at the man. “Enlighten me, how am I?” He grinned cheekily, flicking his lover. “What’s my stubble?”
“Oh, shut up.”
But it made him think- What was Dream’s stubble, figuratively speaking of course. Dream didn’t have stubble.
He asked about that at some point, his fiancé just shrugging in response. I just never grow it, I guess, he had said.
Fundy’s hair became more streaked with white over the years, Dream comparing it to leaves slowly becoming covered in snow. It always made him blush whenever he got compliments, so used to the ‘old man’ comments.
It only made him fall further in love.
Dream’s hair didn’t change besides the length, and occasionally the colour with the seasons and sun. It became paler during the winter, almost a white if he strayed in the cold too long. In contrast, it changed to a vibrant gold colour in the spring and summer, like honey. Fundy swore it sparkled if he was in the sun, but Dream never believed him.
Being a fox-hybrid, he aged more rapidly until maturity. After adulthood, it sort of levelled off, but he still got aches in his bones that his grandfather complained of in letters.
Age took root in all of those that he knew- His father’s face slowly gaining more and more permanent wrinkles with the added stress, Tommy and Tubbo’s soft features gaining a sharpness that came with maturity, even just the simple act of gentle hands turning more calloused and rough as the years past.
Yet Dream seemed immune to age. Perhaps a perk of being a god, seeing as Techno displayed similar traits.
The god was simply as he always was, with broad shoulders that never grew weary with age and a laugh that rang as true as the first time he heard it.
It was glaringly obvious now that he thought about it, but Fundy didn’t want to see it before.
No, it wasn’t that he was jealous or even concerned about it. He didn’t mind at all, most physical attributes he gained were minor and it had only been a couple of years, all things considered.
It was the simple reminder that Dream would outlive him. Outlive them all, in fact.
And maybe it was the realisation that the subtle weariness in his legs whenever the two raced would only grow as he got older, yet his lover would remain unaffected by time hurt him slightly.
Dream would always remain young, immortal and immune to most types of damage because of his healing factor.
One day, Fundy would grow too old to stay up all night, watching the stars.
One day, he wouldn’t be able to accompany the chaos duo and their tired caretakers for that day to the meadow they always went to and pick flowers to weave into crowns.
One day, he would die and leave all his friends behind.
One day, he would have to abandon Dream.
And one day, their generation of settlers would all be six feet under, with only ruins and scraps of books to tell their story. Just like all the others
Dream would be alone once more, for another thousand years.
(It was actually much, much longer than that. Dream didn’t like delving into his past aside from a few sarcastic quips that made the others worry for his sanity, and Fundy was good at respecting that. But a long night of stargazing a few drinks loosened his tongue just enough to blurt out a couple of questions, which Dream humoured enough to answer partially.
“How long were you alone for?” Fundy asked, completely out of the blue. Dream chuckled lightly, tracing shapes in the grass.
“My dearest Fundy,” he drawled, dropping his voice to a low rumble. Dream leaned his head back to lazily grin at the flustered fox hybrid, “why are you asking?”
Fundy shook his head, feeling the blush on his cheeks grow. “No real reason. Curious.”
He heard a hum, watching as the masked man propped himself higher up on his elbows. “Count the stars in the sky. Right now.” Fundy blinked in surprise, to which he received a grimace. “Exactly.”
“Longer than the number of stars in the sky?” He asked innocently. Dream barked out a bitter chuckle. “Or can you not count them all?”
Dream sighed. “The latter was what I was getting at, but…” he mused under his breath. “For the former?”
“There are not enough stars to count them all.”
But for now, he would lace his fingers with Dream’s, the impossibly soft and gentle weight of his hand grounding him to the world around him.
Yes, Dream was a god and would never change physically.
But he changed emotionally- He opened up more now, spilling his heart out to Fundy on cold and rainy nights when it seemed like the sun would never rise again. The wheeze of his laughter was a frequent sound and the tender touches he gave Fundy made his heart flutter.
For now, it didn’t matter if he would eventually leave Dream behind. All that mattered was the here and now, and he was happy to spend it with him.