#also had to put in the final des/tination ref bc i love that series

[lenreli]

Day 28 - Cruise Ship

[AO3] 2022 Hob/1389 Dream from @windsweptinred’s post! Yesterday’s drabble with 1389 Hob/2022 Dream was part 1, technically. It’s time travel stuff. Part 3: 2022 Dreamling.

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Hob isn’t sure how he ended up ― well, he’s pretty sure he’s in the Dreaming. Though, not like he’s used to, once he sees Dream, and he wonders if that contrived death by cruise ship maybe messed something up in his brain. The memories are vague, but he’s pretty sure his death was like one of those rube-goldberg machines of death in that horror movie after those kids miss that plane with a vision and― 

“Robert Gadling?” Dream’s voice cuts off his thoughts, which he’s glad about, opening his mouth to answer until he looks at Dream. With shoulder-length hair. And a ruby around his neck, looking much like when they first met in 1389. And unlike the Dream he knows, greeting him with a dark scowl. “How did you get in here?”

“Ah,” he frowns, scratching his head, looking down at the clothes he definitely died in, in 2022, “good question. Dunno,” he shrugs, brain pulling up that one really weird dream he had in 1389 ― or thought was a dream, until right now, the memories hazy between Dream’s moans and his wet cunt, but he was at the New Inn, he realises. Not a dream, then. “Time travel, maybe?” 

Dream gapes at him, brows furrowing and staring at him intensely, probably using whatever extra senses. “Why here, then?” Dream asks, arrogant, body straightening like he’s trying to be more intimidating, hands clasped in front of him, robe billowing. 

“Probably because we already met in the Waking World, at this point, Dream,” he points out with a smile, and Dream startles, eyes widening and stepping away from him. He’d tell Dream about what his past self did to a future Dream but―probably a bit much for this Dream, practically tight-laced and skittish. “You’re very tense,” he says, stepping closer. “I’m not here to hurt you, Dream,” he says, voice soft. 

Hob thinks of ― well, kissing Dream, touching him softly, unsure if Dream can see it. But Dream makes a sound, cheeks flushing red, blue eyes darting away from him. “That―you do not want that,” Dream falters.

“I’ve had 600 years of fantasising about you,” he says, and Dream inhales sharply, whether it’s from the amount of time, or the other thing, “I’m pretty sure I want it,” he steps closer, and Dream doesn’t step back, shock giving away to amazement. “I want to touch you,” he says softly, bringing a hand up to touch Dream’s cheek―the first time he’s ever touched Dream.

“The rules,” Dream says and Hob sighs, leaning forward to kiss Dream chastely, who freezes like he expects judgement.

“Fuck those,” he mutters, can feel Dream mouth the words against his lips, “whatever bullshit that is, doesn’t apply to me,” Hob says, hands going down to a pale throat, covered with high collar, and Dream chuckles, the sound abrasive, disturbing and wonderful. 

“A man like you would say that,” Dream relaxes incrementally into the kiss and Hob nods, pressing Dream against a convenient wall, a hand going to a pale wrist, parting from Dream’s pink mouth to nip at the inside of it. “Gadling,” Dream ― whines, almost, eyelashes fluttering as he nibbles at the soft skin on his wrist, fingers gently going up under his black robe.

“Hob, please,” he says, kissing Dream’s wrist and knuckles, and in a quite smooth move that he’ll pat himself on the back for later, twirls Dream around, Dream’s back pressed against his front, and Hob licks up a pale throat to nibble at the shell of an ear. 

“Did you not―“ Dream pants as his other hand goes up Dream’s chest, feeling what he’s pretty sure is unneeded breaths. “Want to touch me?”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learnt over the years, is that anticipation can be really, really satisfying,” Dream whimpers, one of Dream’s hands coming up to clutch his hair as he holds Dream close to his body, feeling a lukewarm warmth. Dream smells like forests and oceans. Hob hums, hand on Dream’s chest going down slowly, until it reaches black pants, thumbnail pressing into Dream’s hips, down to covered thighs ― and Dream makes an annoyed sound, arching up into his thumb, and Hob looks down, Dream’s cock hard underneath the fabric. 

“Hob,” Dream whines, relaxing even more into his hold and Hob shudders, nosing at Dream’s soft hair, pressing light kisses into it.

“Are you sure?” He asks, feeling Dream’s nod against his face, Dream’s deceptively strong body making him breathless with how Dream’s arching into him, against his own hard cock, pressed against the other’s arse. “Can I get that in words?” Dream practically growls, head twisting to bite at his chin and nose, eyes black and endless. 

“Hob Gadling,” Dream’s voice booms throughout the room, through his body and he shivers, cock throbbing at the intensity, “either fuck me or touch my cock, but stop teasing,” Dream decrees. 

Hob moans, both of their clothes suddenly vanishing, and he whimpers at the feeling of Dream’s naked body against his. Mind scrambled, his fingers dig into Dream’s thighs, other arm across Dream’s waist, and between one breath and the next, he’s inside Dream, walls hot and tight around his dick and he keens, biting Dream’s shoulder as they moan, pleasure spiraling quickly as he rocks into Dream. 

“Yes,” Dream breathes, the hand in his hair almost painful, Dream’s other hand covering the one on his thigh as they come together.