applesaucedream | Sweeter than the First Time [Open to All]

Current Music: Evening of August 14th/Morning of August 15th, 2013

Sweeter than the First Time [Open to All]

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Hello, dreamers of Manhattan. The Rift knows that things have been kind of rough, lately. The last dream didn't go as well as it had hoped. Consider this an apology of sorts, and a hearkening back to the good times you've shared.

It's a grand old (and potentially familiar) cabin house that the dreamers will find themselves wandering. The furniture is plentiful and comfortable, the floors are strewn with cushions and blankets, and there are cheerful fires burning in the grates. It seems a little odd that the house still manages to be on the chilly side despite looking so warm, yet it is.

Oh, well. You'll just have to find another dreamer or two and ~~spoon up and fall asleep like little baby cats~~ get cozy. It shouldn't be difficult; most of the dreamers (excepting those with strong telepathic defenses or deeply ingrained cuddle-averse personalities) will find themselves feeling friendlier than usual, along with an almost overwhelming desire to snuggle up to someone. How convenient that the house seems designed for that very purpose!

~~And if some of the cushions are Hello Kitty themed, well, that's just coincidence.~~

[OOC: Standard dream party rules apply. Characters will be affected by the dream-whammy to whatever degree makes the most sense for them, and will remember or forget the events of the dream at the player's discretion. Backtag into infinity.]

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Peter's shivering with the chill, apparently not having worked out he can wrap a blanket around himself while he walks. Maybe it's something more than that, too -- ever since he became aware of himself here, he's been filled with a craving for human contact. Angelic contact would also be acceptable, and contact from other species would at least be taken into consideration. He feels perfectly safe wandering about this place, but he also feels unable to settle in and rest, desperately not wanting to be alone. When he finally locates a likely prospect he stands looming over them like a confused stork, reluctant to ask even though he knows what he wants from them.

"Is that seat taken?"

After his disastrous run-in with Gabe, Johnny retreated to a smaller sofa in one of the less populated rooms and curled up in it, covering himself with blankets so it's only the top of his head poking out, staring at the fire. He doesn't notice anyone approaching him so the question takes him by surprise, but not nearly so much as when he tilts his head to look up at the asker.

For a moment he just stares, wide-eyed. He's 100% certain, no matter how comfortable this dream is making everyone feel, that Peter didn't recognize him, or this would not have happened. After a solid several seconds of staring, he starts laughing, a little embarrassed, pulling the blankets up over his face.

"Yes," he says, muffled, between giggles. "I mean, no. Yes, you can sit here." He pulls the blankets down again to look up at Peter. "If you really wanna."

He'll take what he can get right now. And he's morbidly curious to see if this is actually going to happen.

Peter doesn't recognize him until he looks up, but he doesn't share in the giggling. His stomach turns and he wraps his arms around himself, scowling down at the man hogging all those blankets. "Oh, stuff it," he snaps. ~~Johnny~~ Rabbit Man didn't have to laugh at him; it was an honest mistake.

He should go. He didn't mean to ask him for a cuddle, of all people. Somehow Peter's feet stay rooted to the spot, though, even as he looks toward the door as if hoping he can see a more desirable couch partner in the next room. "It's just cold, alright?"

It's more than the cold, though. Peter wants to crawl in -- and so, in a fit of contrariness, he suddenly does. "Budge up," he says as he all but pushes Johnny to the side to make room for himself and plants his skinny rear next to the other man. "And give me some of those blankets."

"Yeah, yeah," says Johnny as he scoots over, spreading the blankets around as demanded. So this is really fucking happening. He can't seem to feel annoyed - company is company, and maybe they can have some kind of truce in this setting. He turns his faint smirk toward the fire.

"Comfy?" he prompts. He can't help but enjoy the weird novelty of this situation.

"No," says Peter just to be contrary. He tucks his feet up under him on the couch and sets about arranging the blankets as though they've personally offended him. He side-eyes Johnny, trying to tell himself he's content with being on the furniture and being wrapped up. He's going to get punched if he tries to touch the other man, isn't he? He's fairly sure that's how it would go if their roles were reversed.

"I'm not doing this because I like you," he informs good old Rabbit Man as he scoots close enough to press his hip against Johnny's.

"Ooh, wait, not all at once." Johnny presses the back of his hand theatrically against his brow. "All that charm, I may swoon."

Is it just the dream, or has he calmed down about Peter? Who ~~cares~~ knows. Far from being annoyed, he's almost delighted by Peter cuddling up next to him, perhaps because he suspects Peter will be mortified upon waking, while Johnny can probably live with it. Hell, that makes it all worthwhile. He treats them both to an incredibly transparent fake yawn-and-stretch, looping his arm around Peter's shoulders. He's not above that old chestnut.

"That's better," he says, and part of him notices that yes, it actually is - the warmth of a fellow body is a lot more effective than the blankets - but one can't build sass on that vaguely embarrassing revelation. Instead of acknowledging it he drops his chin to Peter's bony shoulder, looking up at him with a smug little smile.

Peter stiffens, but doesn't try to get out from within the loop of Johnny's arm. It's...nice. He tries not to relax, really he does, but the tension is already leaking out of him by the time Johnny gives him that smug look and he finds himself sliding his own arm around behind Johnny's back. "You're such a prick," he informs the shorter man. "Alright, we're doing this."

And with that, he tightens his grip and pulls Johnny over sideways with him, squirming to get situated side by side in a more horizontal sort of position.

Oh - okay, well now this is happening. Johnny lets out a startled whup sound and then lies there motionless for a while, trying to figure out how he feels about this.

He feels - okay. It's kind of nice. Not because it's PETER. Just because it's nice.

"I feel like we're on the verge of needing to make a blood pact that no one ever finds out about this," he says, settling in more comfortably and pulling the blankets up. There, that's better. He considers saying something else snarky, but it doesn't feel right. "Hey, listen, man... I'm sorry about... uh. Well, I'm not sorry about the first thing because of previously discussed moral high ground, but I am sorry about punching you the last time. And being a jerk."

How uncomfortable. He squirms a little more under the blanket, wanting to burrow into it like a rabbit. HA. HA HA.

Peter was pretty sure when he did this that he was pranking Johnny, pushing him too far just so he could see the smaller man hop up and scurry away in the face of his overzealous approach to cuddling.

It is nice, though.

Johnny's apology is met with stunned silence followed by Peter turning his head to stare at him, watching Johnny attempt to burrow under the duvet. He holds that pose long enough for it to be awkward and uncomfortable before sniffing in a deep breath. "I do know your name," he admits at long last. "Have done for a while."

Johnny glances back at him, half-smiling in amusement over that admission, which is probably as close as Peter will get to apologizing for anything, and he'll take it. "I know you do," he says with a mild eyeroll. "The damage has been done. A lot of people call me Rabbit Man now. So thanks for that."

Getting along with Peter is ... weird. And easier than he thought it would be. Right now he can practically picture drinking with the guy. All right all right, let's not get ahead of ourselves.

"You're welcome. At least you're known for something now." As if Johnny has Peter to thank for his...popularity? Fuck, Peter knows jack shit about Johnny's social life other than that he's fucked Lucy, he knows Seth, and he ~~hogs Gabriel~~ has a relationship with Gabriel that absolutely does not feed into Peter's ongoing dislike of him.

It's not jealousy that prompts Peter to ask, "Why the hell is it you seem to know everyone I know?"

"I don't know. Small world?" Johnny shrugs, mostly unconcerned. "I mean, once you know Gabriel his whole social circle seems to kind of follow, doesn't it? He sort of draws people to him, that's... that's what he does."

He didn't really mean to bring that up. Fuck.

He covers his face and sighs heavily.

"That's not how you met Lucy," says Peter sharply, the words briefly cutting through the warm haze of the dream. He falls silent a moment later, though, taking Johnny's moment of regret to take a moment of reflection himself. He could have gone a lot longer without seeing Johnny again if it hadn't been for the encounter in Gabe's flat. He still feels like shit when he thinks about all that. Still worries about Gabe. He's not used to worrying about anyone, let alone the holy messenger of God himself.

"That was just..." Johnny shrugs. "Really unlucky coincidence." Unlucky for Peter, he means, but he doesn't feel the need to clarify that.

And now they're both being really awkward and silent. Great. Johnny liked the vague snarky antagonism they had before, that was better. How does he get that back?

"Does Gabe, uh..." Well this is not working. Fuck, what's he even trying to ask, here? He shifts uncomfortably. "What does Gabe talk about? With you?"

Peter snorts. "What doesn't Gabe talk about with me."

That's not an answer, though, and he doesn't particularly want to lay here in silence any more than Johnny does. He sucks in a breath and squints at the ceiling. Feelings, he doesn't want to say. Peter's fucked up love life. Peter's fucked up life in general, though unless Gabe's been peeking where he shouldn't there's thankfully a lot he still doesn't know. "He wants me to get back on the stage," he grunts after a moment, deciding on that as something fairly safe to share. "Says he'll put up the money."

"That's nice of him," mumbles Johnny. Characteristically nice. Gabe really cares about Peter, cares about everyone. Cares about Johnny. Johnny knew that. Why does one fucking word of difference make his gut twist so much?

It's an insufferable fucking question, but he can't resist, especially not with Peter's initial answer: "Does he ever talk about me?"

Peter groans and flops a forearm over his own face. That is an insufferable fucking question, Johnny, thank you. "Constantly," he replies sarcastically. "Unendingly. He sings your praises from morning to night, is that what you want to hear?"

Sighing through his nose, he adds more honestly, "He doesn't want me to punch you again, that's mostly what I've got."

"No," says Johnny with a brief flash of irritation. "That's not what I want."

It was a dumb question and he knows he shouldn't have asked it. He sighs loudly and looks away. "Nevermind. I don't know why he'd tell you this shit anyway."

"You don't want me to not punch you again? Weird, but I think I can manage." Peter's not obtuse enough to actually mistake Johnny's meaning, but suddenly he can smell a kettle of fish he doesn't want to open. Or would that be a can of worms? Either way, slimy things that best stay in their container. Peter has enough problems of his own.

"We haven't talked as much in a while," he admits cautiously, deliberately not asking what it was Johnny did want to know.

"Yeah, no, nevermind," Johnny reiterates, flapping a hand. "Forget it. I shouldn't have asked, it was stupid."

He leans his head back for a moment, a brief groan, and then curls back up deeper under the blanket.

"I might nap," he says, somewhat sulkily. Sometimes even the unnerving oddity of sleep within sleep is better than talking.

"You're already asleep," Peter points out, and then he isn't sure why he's trying to argue Johnny out of it. He doesn't want to know what that was about, and it's not like there are other topics he's dying to discuss with the man.

"I've done it before," Johnny counters, already feeling himself drift off. Everything is so cozy. And he doesn't want to have to think about things. He wants to cling to the warmth and the comfort, and not think about anything else.

This is happening. Peter's cuddled up with Rabbit Man, of all people, and his arm is trapped to boot. He contemplates extricating himself, but Johnny's already going all limp and noodley and....

Well...

...It's comfortable. "You do that, then," he mutters, glancing around and hoping they're not going to get company any time soon.

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Sweeter than the First Time [Open to All]

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for the sake of comedy I'm gonna say he was too bundled for Peter to recognize him, hope that's cool

Ohhh Johnny

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