Dream ends up falling asleep, which is a good thing because he needs the rest, although this means he is awake at the ass crack of dawn from sleeping way too early the day before, just existing.
He can't fall back asleep and it is too early to try to do anything meaningful, he is too lazy to clean up when it is so cold, his stomach rumbles though so that gives him an idea of what he could spend the next couple hours doing.
He gets up to brush his teeth first, throwing away his covers and shivers at the cold draft that envelopes him, sniffing erratically.
He had a cold from falling asleep in the tub the day before, his nose was partially clogged and dripping at the same, it was horrifying.
He grabbed a handful of tissues from the box on his way to the bathroom and blows into it, the cold was going to fuck up his nose for a while.
He sighs miserably, going to brush his teeth anyway and to wash the grime off his face.
The living room is dim and he is relieved that he at least remembered to put off the lights, or did he? Something makes him glance away from his direct path to the kitchen and he sees something out of place, a body figure, draped all over his couch.
His first thought is to get something to protect himself from the possible intruder, could it be one of the girls from yesterday? How had they gotten into his apartment?
He curses under his breath, had he forgotten to lock up yesterday? He moves as quietly as he can so he does not rouse whoever it is, already mentally mapping out his kitchen for where he kept his pans in the dark.
He grabs his favorite frying pan, the weight of the metal cooking utensil, a comfortable weight in his hand, his right hand wrapped around the handle, grip firm as he makes his way back out to the living room, breathing steady.
Although his vision is still taking its precious time adjusting and his nose has gone wonky on him, he still easily navigates the living room, careful to not bump his shins on a side table.
He gets close enough, roughly guessing from the position of the person where their head would be, good thing he had locked the door to his room, the person was probably waiting for him to wake up this morning so that they could ambush him, well not if he did first.
Clenching his teeth, he lifts the pan high and delivers a particularly hard blow, huffing in exertion and satisfaction when the pan makes contact with the person's head.
A howling scream gets ripped out of Dale's throat when his peaceful sleep gets interrupted by pain - a lot of it.
Dream freezes at this, pan gripped in his hand as he hears a particularly familiar voice. "Dale?" He calls in a panic, rushing to go put on the light.
He flips the switch and looks around to see that it was really Dale, the Alpha was dressed in ridiculously patterned pajamas, his annoying pillow and blanket thrown to the ground, no doubt when he had been startled awake by Dream's frying pan.
He was curled up to the side of the couch, clutching his head and whimpering pitifully.
Horror sets in for Dream, he had swung the pan really hard. "Oh my god! Dale, I'm so sorry" He starts to apologize, hurrying back to him.
"Are a-re you crying?" Dream blinks when he gets close enough to see Dale properly.
Dale nods fiercely, hands still clutching his stinging head. "It hurts." He pouts, voice teary. "Why did you hit me so hard?" Dale half sobs.
Dream looks away, guilty. "I thought" He starts to say, about to explain about the girls but he stops himself in time. "I thought you were an intruder, what the fuck were you doing in my apartment anyway?" He accuses, glaring suspiciously at him.
Dale just whimpers some more. "I came to check up on you when you didn't come back yesterday only to find your apartment door ajar"
Dale starts to explain, occasionally punctuating his tale with sniffles and whimpers, he decides to omit that he had nearly gone crazy when he finally mustered enough courage to go check on Dream only to find his door wide open, clothes thrown everywhere ominously.
Dream on the other hand has his blue-grey eyes wide in horror as everything starts to fall in place.
"Then I'm worriedly calling out for you and you don't respond only for me to come into the bathroom to find you passed out drunk in the bathtub, nearly drowning." Dale finishes up, quieter now, although his hands are still on his head and he looks up at Dream with teary eyes. "I was just being nice."
Dream swallows at this, that would explain his cold this morning, when he woke up and found himself on the bed he had legit thought that he was the one who took himself there but now that he thinks properly about it, it sinks in that he has no memory of leaving the tub or dressing up.
Blood rushes up to his face as soon as this thought registers, Dale had to be the one who had dressed him up, had he seen him naked?? --- NOPE! Just no, he wasn't going there.
"Um thanks." He says gruffly, clearing his throat. "Then stop crying." He half pleads when Dale's whimpering picks up again. "I really am sorry for hitting you." He apologizes sincerely thinking that perhaps the Alpha did deserve it.
"But it still hurts!" Dale complains pettishly.
Dream sighs in exasperation. "What do you want me to do then?" He throws a hand up.
"Kiss it better?" Dale suggests sneakily with a pout, managing to still look teary eyed and miserable while at it.
Dream resists the urge to roll his eyes. "Trust me, ice would be a way better option"