#Tob Hob Gadling

[notallsandmen]

Look, the bratty bow has haunted me since September, and frankly, someone had to do something about it.

[tj-dragonblade]

[FIC] Ambrosia

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling (Hob x Dream) Rated: E Word Count: 3965 Tags: Top Dream, Bottom Hob, Tob Hob, Bottom Dream, multiple orgasms, body hair appreciation, scent kink, Dream of the Endless has a human kink, sweat is sexy, armpit appreciation, Hob is at his most beautiful when he's most human, rimming, felching, anal sex, oral sex, cumslut Dream, Dream of the Endless is a Horny Little Weasel, hair pulling, unnegotiated hairpulling, both of them are on board, but it's heat-of-the-moment not talked about beforehand, in case that's a strong point for anyone, overstimulation

Notes: This got sidelined for several months behind other inspiration but I've finally come back and pulled it all together. Springboarded from several of the monthly smut prompts posted up by @staroftheendless, to wit: 3/23/23 chest hair 3/24/23 weakness 3/25/23 scent, teasing 4/10/23 hair pulling

Summary: An exercise in celebrating the human messiness (and messy humanness) that Dream finds so attractive in Hob

On AO3

Hob is sheathed to the hilt in Dream's arse and holding himself desperately in check, Dream trembling in the grip of climax astride him, prick in hand. Long stripes of come decorate Hob's stomach already and there is still more dripping between Dream's fingers, smearing into the hair trailing down from Hob's navel.

"You've made a right mess of me, love," Hob gasps, breathless, waiting only for Dream to come down from the high enough that he can resume.

The rigid lines of Dream's body collapse at last and he pitches forward, a satisfied smile curling his mouth. His wet hand he wipes purposefully in the thick hair across Hob's chest.

"And I would have you. Make, the same of me," he breathes, accompanied by a sinuous roll of his hips, the tightening of his body on Hob's cock—and that's all the sign Hob needs.

He considers for an instant surging up and over, tumbling Dream onto his back and driving him into the mattress; ultimately, though, he'd rather finish just like this tonight: hands tight on Dream's hips, keeping him lifted into exactly the right position, Dream's hands braced on his chest and Dream's heavy-lidded gaze holding his, fucking fast and smooth up into Dream easy as anything and thrice as hot. It only takes a moment until he comes at last, clutching Dream's hips flush against his own as it hits and making the commanded mess within him.

Dream settles down over him as he goes boneless in the aftermath, laying atop him fully with absolutely no care for the semen smearing between them. He doesn't even pull off of Hob's cock properly, instead letting natural softening separate them a moment later; there is a wet squelching sound as Hob's dick slips free and then Dream is kissing him, languid and sated.

Hob kisses him in return, slow hands running up Dream's body and back down, blissed out and content. But then Dream shifts, draws back from the kiss, and Hob is reminded of the mess between them.

"Ugh," he says, poking at the wet smears on his chest. "Wow. That's…a lot."

Dream smirks. "I enjoy the sight of you wearing my spend."

"Clearly." Hob makes a face, wiping his fingers clean in a bit of chest hair that's still dry. "Well, if we're going to make a habit of it. Maybe I should shave all this off."

Dream stiffens, pushes up further, gives him the most affronted look possible. "You will not."

"Oh, I won't?"

"Hob Gadling. I will not allow it."

Hob is ready to say something lightheartedly over-dramatic about 'you DARE presume to tell me what I can or cannot shave', but something in Dream's tone stays him. There's a note of flagrant alarm underneath the imperiousness, and Hob smirks as the lightbulb goes on.

"Got a real weakness for body hair, haven't you."

Dream gives him an unimpressed look that nevertheless has shades of smug satisfaction in it. "I have a preference—"

"Sorry, yes, a preference for body hair."

"—for your body, and all its features, as it is now."

"Including all this hair."

"Yes, including this hair." Dream is running his fingers through it now, heedless of the sticky mess, clearly enthralled with the texture. "It is. Delightful. I enjoy, the feel of it, against the skin of this form. It is very much a part of you, and I would not see it removed."

"It really does make cleanup a sight more difficult, though."

"Then I will. Assist you," Dream purrs, and suddenly he's got his tongue on Hob's chest, licking the smeared and half-dried semen out of the hair with thorough, unhurried strokes and Hob's not really inclined to go again quite so soon but this…this cat-like grooming, it's almost enough to change his mind.

"You make a convincing argument, love, but I don't know if I'm sold," he says, voice wobbling just a little bit.

Dream makes eye contact as he finishes a gloriously long swipe; he smirks, runs the tip of his tongue along his upper lip. Still holding Hob's gaze, he raises up and reaches behind himself, returns with messy fingers and smears them deliberately over Hob's chest, and then his tongue is back at its work again.

Hob drops his head back with a groan; his dick is not going to get hard again for a good while yet but by god, it's certainly trying. "Okay. Okay. I concede; the hair stays." Dream makes a pleased little sound into his chest and Hob feels himself smiling fondly. "Still need a shower, once you've finished there."

Dream lifts again to regard him intently. "Then I will assist you, in the shower as well. But not yet."

"Oh?"

Dream closes his eyes, rubs his face against Hob's wet chest hair like he's savoring the feel of it against his skin, and inhales deep and slow.

"You smell of your sweat, of your spend, of yourself." His eyes are still closed, and the drag of cheek-to-chest reminds Hob of nothing so much as a cat scent-marking. "You smell of my spend; you smell of me. You smell of the love we make, and I would. Linger, awhile, to appreciate it."

"Ah." Hob lets his smile turn into a grin. "Got a thing—preference, sorry—for my scent as well as my hairy chest, then?"

Dream shifts atop him, shimmying gracefully down his body a ways. "Yes," he says, succinctly, and licks a slow stripe up Hob's well-furred abdomen where the mess is thickest.

Hob bites his lip, settles his hands lightly on Dream's shoulders, and lets him work.

"You smell exquisite, here," Dream says moments later, nose pressed into the wet thicket of curls at the base of Hob's cock, and while that's never been the word that Hob would use, he's not going to argue. Especially not when Dream is taking him into his mouth, soft as he is, and suckling him clean again. It's a sharp sensation, close to being too much with how recently he came, and he groans.

Dream releases him a moment later, laves wetly over his balls, hands settling on the insides of his thighs and pushing his legs further open for easier access. Hob spreads them readily, happy enough to comply.

"I would have you. Spend for me again, Hob," Dream breathes then, a soft exhalation against Hob's tender flesh. "Into my mouth, where I might. Savor it."

Hob whimpers, arousal kindling in his gut, but his dick only manages an interested twitch. "The spirit is willing, love, but the flesh is of the waking world and needs just a little more time?"

"Then perhaps—" Dream's hands slide underneath Hob's thighs, pushing up, back, encouraging his knees toward his chest "—I might find a way to assist you, in your recovery." He noses his way under Hob's balls, laps up the runaway come that has gathered there, and then his tongue is probing slickly at Hob's arsehole.

"Oh yes," Hob gasps, grabbing the back of his thighs to hold himself open for Dream, who hums his pleasure and goes to work in earnest.

There is nothing quite like being opened up by Dream's tongue; he shapes it as long and as thick as it needs to be and his saliva is better than any lube. Hob is panting in very short order, pleasure blossoming through him as Dream delves deeper and deeper, softening and stretching him. Dream seeks out his prostate, lavishes it with curling rolls of the tip of his tongue, plays with it lovingly until Hob cannot see straight.

"Please," he breathes, when it's gone on long enough that he's dizzy with how good it is and ready for a proper fucking. "Dream���"

Dream slurps out of him, lifts his head so Hob can't help but see the hedonistic expression on his face when his over-long tongue licks all around his mouth before shrinking away, and then Dream is rising up and flowing into position over him, lining up and sinking in with the same smooth motion. Hob arches into it with a whine of satisfaction, letting go his legs as Dream bottoms out; he wraps them around Dream's bony hips, urging him closer, deeper. Dream bends down to kiss him, draws out and fucks back into him smooth and slick, again, and again, and Hob groans into Dream's open mouth before his head lolls bonelessly, eyes rolling.

"Fuck, Dream—" He shudders, grasps helplessly at Dream's shoulders as Dream nuzzles against his throat, still fucking him with long gliding strokes. It feels good, so good, better than practically anything and Hob has just enough presence of mind to remember the preferences Dream has confessed to; he loosens his legs a tiny bit around Dream, just enough to let Dream's body shift between them with each thrust so he'll feel the hair on Hob's thighs rubbing over his skin. He sends the thought out as a vivid daydream, how the slim prick in his arse is raising gooseflesh all over him, how that makes the hair stand up on his thighs, perfect for Dream to brush against with every motion.

Dream inhales sharply against Hob's throat, shudders, lets out the most wanton sound Hob's heard from him yet and moves faster, fucking into him harder. One hand moves to Hob's thigh, grips it tightly and strokes down the back of it, fingertips scratching at the hair; Hob grins, threads a hand gently around the back of Dream's head and tucks him close underneath his raised chin. He unhooks one calf from around Dream's hip and runs it slowly down over his buttocks and thigh, brushing the texture of his leg hair against smooth alabaster skin. Dream whines, short and sharp, bites at Hob's throat and starts fucking in earnest.

Hob just hangs on for the ride, awash in the hazy pleasure of getting fucked without his own cock clamoring for attention. The angle Dream's at would be awkward for a regular human but Dream being Dream of course manages effortlessly, smooth gliding thrusts that hit hard and fast while he sucks tender bruises all along Hob's neck. Then abruptly he raises up, out of Hob's hold, leans back and pulls Hob's hips up into his lap; his hands settle on Hob's waist as Hob wraps his legs loosely around Dream's hips, adapting to the inclined angle.

Dream eases his prior pace, pulsing deep up into Hob and holding, relaxing then thrusting again. His eyes rake over Hob's body, sleepy prick to furred abdomen to the pelt of his chest and up to meet Hob's gaze, where they hold on another languid thrust. Hob can't keep back the moan that trembles out of him, doesn't even try, and the slow little smile that lights Dream's eyes says indeed that was the right choice. Dream likes to know his pleasure, delights in the orchestra of sounds he can draw from Hob, and Hob has no interest in denying him that enjoyment.

Dream thrusts in deep and stills, slides his hands slowly up Hob's body, along his sides, into his armpits and on up the arms themselves, pushing them up over Hob's head. Hob lets himself be moved easily, warm and hazy in the moment as Dream crosses his wrists and pins them to the mattress, holding Hob's eyes as he leans close above him. He circles his hips, a lazy thrust that makes Hob's breath catch in his throat, and smooths his hands back down to Hob's chest.

It's clear in his demeanor that Hob should leave his arms where they were placed, so of course he does.

Dream presses into him again, still deep and good and the furthest thing from hurried. He curls his fingers in Hob's wet chest hair, traces patterns through it slowly, enjoying himself at his leisure. Every thrust sends pleasant warmth seeping into Hob's veins, heightened by the play of Dream's touches, and he would be utterly content to stay like this for hours, if Dream should ask it of him.

Dream bends down and kisses Hob, deep and unhurried, still fucking him at a lazy pace. He nuzzles up under Hob's chin when he leaves off, and Hob tilts his head back towards his crossed wrists, giving Dream room to nibble or bite again if he likes. But Dream just breathes him in, licks up the length of his throat and and then moves sideways, across his collarbone and into his armpit, where he buries his face with a sigh. "Divine," Dream murmurs, inhaling the scent of him. "You are. Fragrant, with exertion, with the needs and wants of your human body." He mouths at the thick hair there, ardently, and the languid pace of his hips picks up. "I would taste—" His tongue laps firmly behind his words and he groans. "I would. Consume you, Hob—"

"I would let you," Hob breathes, hands flexing above his head as if they truly were restrained, everything in him thrilling to the want in Dream's voice, the worshipful press of Dream's mouth to his armpit. "Darling, I would let you devour me—"

Dream keens, drags his face back up across Hob's chest, across the sweat and saliva and remnants of semen there, scenting it all as he fucks Hob now with abandon. His hands are clenched on Hob's hips, nails digging little crescents into Hob's skin as he moves faster, harder, his cock perfectly angled to punch against Hob's prostate at the peak of every thrust and Hob arches into it, gasping open-mouthed, arms still crossed above his head. It's good, it's so good getting railed like this, Dream's panting little whines against his chest only pushing him higher and he can feel his own dick waking up again at last. He moans, loud and low, breathless and encouraging as Dream speeds up, rhythm growing erratic; when Dream cries out and buries himself deep at last, trembling, Hob abandons the pretense of restraint and wraps a hand around the back of Dream's head, holds him cradled to the hollow of his throat while Dream's spend blooms hot and wet inside him.

As soon as Dream's orgasm lets him go he's wriggling free of Hob's gentle hold, pulling out with a squelch and slithering down Hob's body, pushing his thighs up and apart and diving between them. His tongue darts over Hob's open hole, laps inside once, twice, again and again, licking his own spend out of Hob with a desperately hungry little noise.

"Fuck," Hob gasps, squirming at the press of Dream's tongue, alight and swollen with pleasure inside. The sweetest sort of ache is rising in the wake of the pounding Dream has given him and his cock is standing now at full attention, finally ready, twitching at the wet little sounds Dream is making.

Dream lifts away and Hob is disappointed for half a second, and then Dream's slick wet tongue is dragging eagerly up the length of his dick. "There you are," Dream breathes, the hitch in his voice both wanton and hungry. "I await your offering, my Hob—" He laps at the head, makes a show of savoring the taste, then takes him fully in, tongue squirming like a living thing as he goes down.

Hob moans, enthralled by the sight, the feel, riveted as always by the sheer unfathomable reality that Dream of the Endless likes sucking his cock; Dream's eyes flick up to his, hold them while he slides down and back up, the red of his lips stretched prettily around Hob. He is skillful and enthusiastic, making sounds in his throat like he's consuming some posh delicacy and Hob moans along with him, overwhelmed. It's so good he can't see straight, can't properly breathe, and the fact that he gets to have this is just. It's amazing.

Dream pulls off with a lingering lick, runs his mouth sideways down the shaft, over Hob's balls and then his tongue is squirming back into Hob's arse, curling deep before withdrawing. He raises his head and lifts up, poises over Hob's cock and locks eyes with Hob again as he briefly opens his mouth, for show. There's a wad of spend on his tongue, his own retrieved from Hob's body, and then he's closed his lips, is letting it dribble between them to decorate the head of Hob's prick in wet white-ish rivulets.

It's possibly the hottest thing Hob has ever seen and he whines, cock jumping; Dream's fingertips take hold of the base delicately, keeping Hob still while he finishes drizzling his own come over Hob's dick like he's glazing a pastry. He takes his time licking it all back off again, thorough and relentless; Hob is tense and shaking by the time Dream decides he has finished.

And then the wet tip of Dream's tongue is tracing patterns along the underside of his prick, worrying at the little seam of flesh beneath the head, right where Hob is most sensitive and Hob feels orgasm building fast in his blood. "Fuck—darling—" he gasps, pushing clumsily at Dream's shoulders, because Dream had specifically said he wanted it in his mouth and there are much better angles to accomplish that than with Hob flat on his back. "Up—your mouth—want to see—"

Dream, bless him, understands Hob's half-coherent babble and slides off the bed to his knees. Hob scrambles to his feet in front him, leans shakily back against the wall, takes his dick in hand and strokes it once, twice, then holds it steady. Dream leans up, mouth open, tongue out, inviting; Hob lays just his tip against Dream's tongue while Dream holds his eyes, unblinking. His hands come to rest on Hob's thighs; he smooths them gently through the thick hair, scratches softly and Hob whimpers, slaps his dick very lightly against Dream's tongue, whimpers again at the eager sound that Dream makes. He's so fucking close; he can feel it rising hot in his gut, drawing tight in his balls.

Dream flicks his tongue, bouncing the tip of Hob's cock, then does it more gently, little squirming licks right in the very best spot and Hob sees stars. Dream teases his leaking slit, licks him underneath again, wriggles his tongue right there and Hob gasps, sobs, trembling ferociously on the edge. He sweeps the fringe of Dream's hair from his forehead, threads shaking fingers through it, holding gently; Dream tips his face up just that little bit further, curls the tip of his tongue just so, eyes full of darkness and starlight and locked with Hob's—and then Hob is coming, a sweet molten rush spilling thick and warm into Dream's waiting mouth.

Dream moans, the most sensually-fulfilled sound Hob's ever heard, and strains forward, nails digging into Hob's thighs as he takes the entirety of Hob's offering on his tongue—and Hob can do nothing but give it to him, grunting breathlessly with each pulse that throbs out of him.

Dream's mouth closes around him as the orgasm subsides; Hob has an instant to register his cock settling in the puddle on Dream's tongue and then Dream swallows, drawing him further in. Hob gasps sharply, trembling, hand tightening in Dream's hair, and then Dream sucks on his twitching length, draws another spurt of come from him that's swallowed down as greedily as the rest.

"Fuck!" Hob jerks inadvertently on Dream's hair and Dream inhales sharply through his nose, mouth still full of Hob's cock. He sucks again, harder, continuous, eyes flicking up to Hob's from beneath sooty lashes, bleeding back to vividly blue. Hob swears again, trembling, overstimulated; Dream's lips are flush against the wet curls at Hob's groin and he's sucking, swallowing, nursing—milking Hob dry for all he's worth, still clinging tightly to Hob's thighs. Both Hob's hands are buried in Dream's wild hair now, hanging on desperately; he knows he's pulling, knows he hasn't ever cleared this with Dream, but Dream is not objecting and Hob cannot for the life of him make himself let go.

"Dream—fuck—I can't—Dream, Dream—!" Dream doesn't stop, shows no sign that he plans to stop; Hob is swiftly passing the point where the continued stimulation has any pleasure left to it and finally uses his grip in Dream's hair to haul him bodily off his cock, collapsing to his knees as soon as it slides free. His hands are still clenched in Dream's hair and Dream is gazing at him, heavy-lidded and dangerous, mouth wet and ruby red, half open, inviting.

Hob dives into it, loosening his grip on Dream's hair at last, kissing him fiercely between panting breaths. "You magnificent, divine, insatiable creature," he manages, stroking dark feathery strands back from Dream's cheeks, settling that beautiful sharp angular face between his hands. "The hair pulling wasn't too much? I didn't hurt you?"

"You cannot hurt this form if I do not allow it," Dream replies, smug, satisfied, every inch the cat who got the cream and Hob is aware of how terribly aptly cliche that thought is right this second but he does not care, not in the slightest.

"Well, good, that's…that's good," Hob says, still catching his breath. "Gets a little hard to keep control when you go feral like that."

"You did promise that I might devour you," Dream says, utterly unrepentant, and Hob absolutely has to kiss him again at that.

Dream is perfectly amenable, kissing back with wet enthusiasm, open and eager and still slick with traces of Hob's orgasm. His tongue charms its way into Hob's mouth, apparently still intent on the devouring, and then he is rising up on his knees, tipping Hob's head back, bearing him over and down to the carpet and crawling atop him.

"Your smell, your taste, you are. Positively ambrosial," Dream breathes, scenting along his throat before briefly reclaiming his mouth. "I would have you again—" His tongue darts between Hobs lips, a fleeting tease. "I would have you fill me, repeatedly, in every orifice, until I am. Overflowing, with your spend—"

"Sweet christ—" Hob surges up to kiss him, rolls them over so that Dream is pinned beneath him before breaking away with a gasp. He is so aroused, and his dick is so very far from being anything close to ready. "You'll be the death of me at this rate, love. Best move to the Dreaming if you want to continue."

"Indeed." Dream lifts a hand, reaching for Hob's forehead.

"Whoa, hold on now—" Hob twists to avoid the touch, catches Dream's hand to plant a kiss to his fingertips instead. "You are not knocking me out and leaving me on my bedroom floor in this mess while we ravish one another in the Dreaming. Mind your manners, Dreamlord."

The expression on Dream's face would be a pout on anyone less regally held. "I would have you now. While you are still so. Fragrant."

"Impatient. Insatiable. I adore you." Hob kisses his fingertips again between each declaration and then stands, pulls Dream up after him. "I'm delighted that you so love the natural mess of my humble human body but unless you're going to snuggle down with me here, I'd prefer to get cleaned up a bit. Help me in the shower, I will change the sheets, and then you can tuck me into bed properly to join you in your realm. Where I will dream myself as 'fragrantly ambrosial' as you like and do my very best to stuff you so full of come that it will be leaking from you for hours. Days. Weeks, even."

"Such promises you make, Hob Gadling," Dream purrs, obviously mollified, and follows as Hob leads him to the shower.

=== Started: 3/21/23 Drafted: 11/26/23 Posted: 11/27/23

[notallsandmen]

”I will ruin you.”

”Yeah yeah, a lot of yapping and not a lot of action from you. Do your worst.”

Final chapter is up!

Look, the bratty bow has haunted me since September, and frankly, someone had to do something about it.