#Hob and Dream human au meeting at a pride parade

[littledreamling]

Here, have a half-coherent, sleep deprivation induced plot bunny with absolutely no context:

“Those will kill you, you know.”

Holb spun at the sound of the voice, deep and rumbling, barely audible over the chaos that was the pride parade filling the street around him. The voice belonged to a void of a man, a black spot among the riot of color. He was pointing at the cigarette pinched delicately between two of Holb’s fingers with a furrowed brow. He wasn’t sure if he was being flirted with or judged; it was the oddest opening line he had ever heard either way.

“So I’ve been told,” Hob said, almost a yell to be heard over the din.

“What’s your name?”

Definitely flirting. It was the most awkward attempt Holb had ever seen, but there was something almost endearing about it that made him smile.

“Holben.”

“Did your parents hate you?” The man asked incredulously. Holb snorted.

“Evidently,” he chuckled. “My friends all call me Holb, though.”

“Hob?”

Holb laughed, then realized the man really had misheard him. He wasn’t surprised; the entire street was a cacophony of sound. No one had ever called him Hob before. It felt good, like a warmth settling in his chest. He snuffed his cigarette against the bottom of his shoe and pocketed the butt to throw away later.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he said with a smile. “What about you?”

“Dream,” the man replied.

“Your name’s Dream?” Hob laughed. “Now who’s parents hated them?”

Dream’s lip ticked up in a minuscule smile and Hob grinned in response. Together, they continued walking, caught up in the flow of the rainbow stream around them, though they only had eyes for each other.