dream a little dream of me | Glowfic Constellation

Camillo will snuggle right up.

“It wasn’t a leg wound pity fuck! It’s not like that!”

“Oh, yeah?”

He tucks in the blanket around him.

“What’s it like?”

Z is the warmest thing in the entire world. Camillo tucks his head neatly under Z’s chin.

“I dunno. I think he’s kinda shy. But I think it might be serious.”

“Serious, huh.”

He puts one very warm arm around Camillo under the blanket.

“I’m gonna need some names.”

“I mean. I don’t know. I’m just — don’t laugh.”

“No laughing. Promise.”

“…Anatole.”

“…oh, shit.”

Well, he’s definitely not laughing.

“Not just a one-off party thing, huh…?”

“We talked afterwards and then we … didn’t just talk.”

This is really bad infosec and he’s totally implicating Anatole as a suspect in anything he does. But it doesn’t actually matter. Once Dorothy wakes up, Anatole won’t even exist anymore.

Which is fine.

“I’m happy for you, man, but…”

He tucks him in a little more securely.

“…if it were me, I wouldn’t go there.”

“Okay, I know he can be kind of a dick, but that’s literally never stopped you.”

“It’s not just him being a dick, it’s—”

…his eyes flicker back and forth, looking for close bystanders.

“…I’m not gonna say anything I couldn’t take back. Just. Sometimes he gets a bug up his ass about somebody, and…bad shit starts happening to them.”

“Aw, c’mon. It’s not like he can take anyone in a fight, you can’t hold it against the guy if he shortsheets someone’s bed.”

“He — no, you don’t get it.”

He takes another glance around.

“Bruno’s horse had a foal a couple months before you showed up. — I know Bruno’s an asshole too, just — it was really sweet, his kid really loved it. And Bruno said some shit about Anatole’s mom, and…couple days later the foal went missing and we only figured out what happened halfway through dinner. Nobody would own up to cooking that day.”

“…Jesus.”

He can see it, is the worst part. Absolutely. It adds up.

“Yeah.”

“It’s all stuff like that. Nothing for sure. But.”

“…he’s kind of a fucked-up guy,” Camillo admits.

“Hey, you have a type.”

“I feel like you’re very different actually!”

“I sure fucking hope so!”

He pulls him in a little closer.

“…I’m not gonna try to tell you what to do. Just…if you still want to see him — be careful, okay?”

“I will. Promise.”

He nestles up cozily.

“Maybe we just need to have another party where I can hook up with more boys.”

“We’ll be back out there soon. I think we’re waiting to sell off some of the pile of gold, our guy should be around soon.”

"I guess I'll just have to wait for my irregularly scheduled dose of extra-snuggly drunk Z."

He's so smooth. Look how smooth he is.

“It’s not like I never get drunk on normal days. Besides, we’re about to get resupplied. Which means somebody’s going to come up with an excuse for everyone to eat sugar and get wasted.”