#hob gadling angst
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I love the thought of Hob spending the 90s (1990s, that is) hooking up with every pale emo/goth/punk Dream lookalike he could find to deal with the fact that he got stood up
But consider: after the very first time he had sex with one of those men, all miles of pale skin and dark hair and blue eyes that were just slightly the wrong shade, Hob spends an hour in the shower trying to wash every trace of the encounter from his skin, from his mouth, from his bones. Because he had promised his Stranger that he would wait, even if it was a promise only he had heard. He had promised his Stranger that they were friends and that he didnât need anything more than his Strangerâs presence. And here he was, seeking out people who look exactly like him, people who are also strangers, but will never be strangers in the way his Stranger is. In some small way, he has pushed for more, if only by association, and he immediately hates himself for it. Hates the way that he knows the name of the man in his bed and wishes he didnât. Hates the way he can still hear the manâs choked-off gasps as he came down Hobâs throat and his voice wasnât deep enough, wasnât otherworldly enough; it was just a manâs voice and nothing more. Hates that the man didnât call him Hob because Hob isnât going by Hob this time around. Hates that heâs used an innocent person to project his own selfish and unwanted desires onto. He hates himself for pushing and for looking for distractions and most of all, for wanting
#idk where this came from or where it was going#it just sorta⊠happened#Iâm not totally ecstatic woth how it sounds bc Iâm tired and eloquence isnât my strong suit on a good day#with*#jesus I canât type lmao#anyway I just have a lot of feelings about Hob and regret and longing#might come back and clean this up a bit in the morning#might not#weâll see#hob gadling#gadlads#thatâs the tag right?#hob gadling angst#I might write a short fic about this because itâs been on my mind for a while#like I need another wip đ#sandman netflix#the sandman#dreamling#sort of#dreamling angst
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Stars
Immediate continuation from the previous comic :3
#I eventually decided centaurs age at a similar rate to humans#horse girl au#dreamling#centaur!dream#hob gadling#the art tag#angst#the sandman#Centaurs use the stars to navigate#Their calendar is also based on the stars
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Raven Hob
#i started this over a year ago for bingo i never finished#dreamling#dream x hob#raven hob#hob gadling#dream of the endless#morpheus#the sandman#the sandman netflix#sandman fanart#my art#*#morpheus dream of the endless#angst#angst warning#fan art#fanart
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When Burgess summoned Dream, instead of Dream being completely cut off from the Dreaming, instead the magic pulled all of Fawney Rig into the soft places at the edge of the Dreaming, so like Dream still can't get out of the circle and his subjects can't get in but the Dreaming suffers much less and crucially, he still has access to some tiny fraction of his power
So now the whole house and everyone in it is sort of tied to the Dreaming and there's just oodles of magic coming off it, and the house in the Waking and the house in the Dreaming exist sort of superimposed over each other. Like you can be in one and sort of be aware of the other but you can't really flip between the two
And I want the whole thing to operate on a sort of combo between Aladdin in the cave of wonders/Orpheus leaving with Eurydice rules where it's said that if you enter the house in the Dreaming side and manage to find the Dream king, he'll grant you the thing you've been dreaming of, but the catch is you have to believe you have it. You have to leave the house without checking. So Burgess asks for Randall, but he turns to look almost before they're out of the basement because if he were Dream then he would pull a trick (TBF it wasn't actually Randall, just a dream of him, but Burgess couldn't tell the difference anyway because he was a terrible father and you can't change my mind). After that, he never managed to find the basement again. Never even manages to find the dream house again, only the waking one, although he goes mad looking for it
But like. Someone else asks for riches and the Dream king says they can be found the guy's pocket or whatever, but he can't feel anything? There's no weight there, no shape, his pocket seems empty (it isn't when he checks, but as soon as he gets out of the house, yelling about his triumph, it's gone and the house is mundane again)
Alex, who doesn't ask for anything until after the death of his father (and after he murdered Jessamy) asks for peace. For safety. The Dream king says nothing, and Alex lives the rest of his life in the Dreaming version of the house, too scared to step outside in case whatever peace he's found in his personal prison vanishes
Ethel never makes it to the house in the Dreaming . She takes what she wants from the waking, and when she leaves she doesn't look back once
Time passes, and more and more people find their way to Fawney Rig, but as Dream himself said, the great stories always return to their original forms, so no one succeeds because that's how it goes
And then. And then Hob. Hob who finds his way to the house just looking for an answer. Looking for something he can do to make sure his Stranger is there in 2089, because otherwise he might lose his mind with the what-ifs. So he finds the house, and he meets Alex, who hasn't set foot outside the front door in over 80 years except it's a little hard to feel sorry for him when Hob realises why. He meets Paul, who lives solidly in the waking, and hasn't been able to convince Alex that it would be worth it to leave with him. He finds his way down to the basement, finally, and there he finds his Stranger
And at first he thinks? It's a trick? Because isn't that sort of what this place does, it tricks you? But he speaks to Dream, and he gets the rest of the story from him, and the only thing Hob wants to take from this place is Dream. And he's like I want to get you out of here, but I can't because you're trapped in that circle (which for reasons unknown to the author right now but probably has something to do with the nature of dreams and stories can't just be broken like a regular spell circle) and I can't do anything about it and Dream is all you know the story, Hob Gadling. It is a more powerful magic than the binding. Leave, and don't look back, and trust that I am following
(Dream knows the story. He's sure he knows how it ends. But he also knows that it has to be played out, that he has to give Hob this chance - he finds himself, as he follows, weeping silently for his son and Eurydice)
So then there would be the agonising climb and return through the maze of the house where Hob almost looks back a bunch of times, and eventually he makes it to the door and steps out into the bright sun of the waking, and -
End title
#Dreamling#hob gadling#dream of the endless#On today's episode of 'fics I have so vividly in my head but Simply Cannot Put To Paper'#Have some more angst. Still on the house#Haha get it? On the house? Ey?#Never mind#Trying this again because the formatting went wonky when I first posted it sorry folks
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Euripidesâ Herakles but make it dreamling
#dreamling#dream of the endless#hob gadling#the sandman#the sandman netflix#the sandman 2022#hi im back and i bring angst youre welcome#guess who read brief lives#my art
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I wish you would write a fic where...
âŠHob is a little insecure about his body in comparison to Dream. Dream is wondering why his love only wants to have sex in the darkâŠ
I need some hurt/comfort đ„č
Oh man friend, I started writing this thinking it wouldn't be super long and then 9.7k words later...đ
Still gonna post the whole thing on tumblr since this IS a tumblr prompt, but it's probably best read on AO3 for length reasons lmao. I hope you enjoy this angst train!
AO3 Link: Cruel Summer
Rating: Mature
Warnings: None
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - America, Developing Relationship, Casual Sex, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Self-Esteem Issues, Self Confidence Issues, body image issues
Also tagging @dreamlingbingo as I'm using this fill for my free space!
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The first time it happens, Dream doesn't think too much about it. There's not a lot of thinking going on period, not really. Dream's only focused on the touch and taste and feel of Hob Gadlingâs body against his as they drunkenly make out against the latterâs front door.
Theyâd been out tonight celebrating with their friends, all of them having finally achieved some hard earned life goal. Matthew and Jessamy were engaged, and planning a marriage out on Cape Cod the following summer, Lucienne had gotten promoted as an archivist at Harvard, Mervyn had finally launched his own cybersecurity firm, and Dream had just signed a publishing deal for the novel heâd been working on for the past two years. His editing team was even based out of Boston, even if their main headquarters was in New York, which made Dreamâs life much easier.Â
HobâŠwell. Hobâs celebration was more muted than the rest. Heâd just landed a job at Harvard as well, working as a professor, so he and Lucienne were now technically coworkers. And while it was a fantastic opportunity with decent pay, and mostly free summers, it had come at the cost of his relationship with Eleanor, his longtime girlfriend.Â
Eleanor had accepted a job across the country working as a marketing lead for a lifestyle clothing brand based out of Seattle. Sheâd wanted the position more than anything, but Hob hadnât wanted to move, so they broke up. Hob insists it was all amicable, and that heâd miss everyone too much if heâd actually left, but they all knew Hob had been thinking about proposing.
Dream knows all this, and yet, when it had just been the two of the left at the bar and Hob had started openly flirting with him alone, instead of just playfully flirting with every single one of their friends, Dream had decided, âwhy notâ, and matched the other manâs energy until they were suddenly making out just outside the bar while they waited for the Uber Hob called for them. Itâs still the beginning of summer and not terribly hot outside, but Dreamâs still grateful for the cool AC of the car that eventually comes to get them to drive the short distance back to Hobâs apartment.
When Hob finally unlocks the door and they practically fall into the front hall, Dream messily kicks off his shoes and works his way towards undoing Hobâs belt in between kisses. Hob wrangles them down the hall and towards his bedroom and Dream thinks vaguely about turning on the lights when they finally cross the threshold. But then Hob pushes him down into the mattress and Dream stops thinking about anything at all.Â
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The second time that it happens, a little over a month later, Dream is helping Hob clean up his apartment after their monthly movie night with their friends. They had all decided on rewatching Jurassic Park after Mervyn and Lucienne had gotten into a debate on whether or not dinosaurs looked stupid with or without feathers. But it had taken the group some time for them to even start the movie, since they had mostly gotten wrapped up with different bits of work and life gossip. It was rare that they were all able to get together like this, so the movie was a secondary concern for them.
During the movie, however, Matthew and Jessamyâs wedding planner called them about something that needed their attention immediately, and though they said it was fine to keep the movie running, theyâd paused it anyways. Not even ten minutes after they wrapped up their call, Mervyn had to take a work call from a client suffering from some server issues.Â
Needless to say, it was nearly midnight by the time they finished the movie, and since only Dream and Hob had nothing to do the next morning, Dream had offered to stay late to help clean up and then crash on Hobâs couch for the night.
That is, at least, the story they tell their friends. The dishes and the food end up abandoned as Hob pushes Dream into the couch cushions and palms his cock through his black jeans. Dream moans and ruts beneath the other man, wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling Hob in for a desperate, filthy kiss. They make out like teenagers for what seems like hours, the taste of buttery popcorn and overly sweet margarita mix mingled in every kiss. Dream isnât nearly as drunk as he was that first night, but heâs got a pleasant buzz going, which really only adds to the whole illicit nature of what theyâre doing. Neither of them had mentioned the first time theyâd fucked to any of their friends, theyâd barely talked about just between the two of them, really.Â
Dream had figured maybe they could talk about it tonight after everyone had gone home but well. Heâd gotten distracted with Hobâs mouth.
When they finally move from the couch to the bedroom, Dream turns the lights on, but then Hob turns them right back off as Dreamâs getting undressed.Â
âAre you one of those people who prefers to have sex in the dark?â Dream asks, laughing as Hob crawls on top of him, shedding his shirt and underwear along the way.Â
âMmmm,â Hob says, putting his mouth on Dreamâs neck instead of answering the question. Dream gasps as the other man bites down on that one sensitive spot just below his ear. âDonât wanna get up later to turn them off.â
Dream hums, and thatâs the end of that conversation as his mind floats away to far more interesting pursuits.
-----------------
The third time almost feels like a date. Almost. They donât exactly plan to get together, just the two of them, it just sort of happens because Matthew had gotten sick, and Jessamy hadnât wanted to leave him alone to fend for himself. She also wasnât entirely sure if she was contagious herself and wanted to be safe. Mervyn was on call for a client this weekend so he wasnât going out with them anyways, and Lucienne had decided sheâd rather stay at home and catch up on some of her backlogged work rather than attend the Oktoberfest event theyâd all bought tickets to.Â
Hob had texted Dream individually and suggested they go out anyway, just the two of them, and Dreamâs heart had stuttered in his chest when heâd read the message. Hob had suggested a new restaurant that had opened up near his apartment, and while it wasnât necessarily a first date sort of place, it was still a bit nicer than any of the places theyâd go with their friends for just drinks or a quick bite to eat.Â
Dream agonizes for over an hour on what he should wear, before he ultimately defaults to what feels most natural to him, black jeans and a solid black polo instead of his usual band t-shirt, which he then pairs with a charcoal gray blazer, just to look a little nicer. But not too nice, just in case this isnât a date.Â
Hob, much to Dreamâs disappointment, is in his regular outfit of a graphic tee and sweats when Dream arrives. Heâs not terribly out of place in the restaurant, but heâs clearly not dressed to impress. He eyes Dream very appreciatively though, and doesnât comment on why Dreamâs a little more dressed up than usual. What he does do, however, is spend the evening whispering into Dreamâs ear about how heâd like to peel that blazer off Dream and make him wear it while they fuck.
They only make it through a single round of drinks before they leave, with Hob leaving their server behind a more than generous tip for wrapping up their bill so quickly.Â
Hob wastes no time divesting Dream of his blazer and tossing it down the hallway towards the bedroom before turning his attention back to kissing Dream senseless. He sinks to his knees and Dream moans as the other man then works at peeling his jeans off so he can blow Dream right in the front hall, up against the front door where anyone can walk by and hear. It makes everything that much hotter.
Later, when all Dream is left wearing is his blazer and nothing else, Hob gets up from where theyâre kissing on the bed to turn off the lights and Dream frowns.
âYou can just leave the lights on,â Dream says, before he coyly spreads his legs and shows off his best seductive pose to tempt Hob back to bed. Hob stares, transfixed at Dreamâs posturing, before he huffs and then clicks off the lights anyways. Dream groans in annoyance and Hob laughs before he kisses Dream again.
âSorry, just easier with the lights off,â Hob says, not sounding sorry at all. âDonât worry about it too much.â
But Dream does worry. He doesnât in the moment, but he does later, when theyâre lying beside each other, Hob snoring away while Dream thinks and thinks and thinks. He thinks about how Hob always wants the lights off, and how he never cuddles with Dream after sex. He thinks about how they really only ever get together when it's convenient, but they've never made plans on their own, at least, not since Hob and Eleanor have broken up.Â
Dream realizes, with a growing dread, that maybe Hob still isn't over Eleanor, that maybe all there is between them is sex, and nothing else. It makes an awful sort of sense; in the dark, Dream can't tell if Hobâs thinking about someone else, hoping for someone that's not Dream. Eleanor and Dream couldn't be anymore different but that hardly matters to a man with a broken heart. A warm body is a warm body after all, and Dream's the only other single person in their friend group.
If Hob's a little bit confused as to why Dream is a bit short with him in the morning he doesn't show it. Somehow that makes the pit in Dream's stomach worse.
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The fourth timeâthere isnât a fourth time because Dream fucks it all up.
Dream had met with his publisher earlier in the day, and the meeting had gone ratherâŠpoorly. His editor had straight up told him that heâd needed to make significant changes to the book, and Dream had argued until he was hoarse but to no avail. Heâd then been told to go home and sleep on things, effectively being dismissed like a petulant child whoâd thrown a tantrum in public.
Dream knew he had a good story. He also knew that some of the suggested changes were good ones, while others would fundamentally change the story he was trying to tell. But still, the sheer amount of changes had overwhelmed him, and Dream had lost his temper. He already knows, with a growing dread, that heâll have to make some apologies the next day.
Heâs about to go home, but Dream decides instead heâd like to get as drunk as humanly possible to wash the bitter taste of the day from his mind. He texts the group chat, and since itâs a Friday night, they all respond with enthusiasm to blow off some steam for the weekend. Everyone except for Hob, who says heâs not feeling like socializing tonight, but heâs sorry Dream had such a shitty day.Â
Dream tries not to be disappointed that Hob wonât show up. He wonders if heâd just invited Hob by himself, instead of texting their group, would he have come out, just for Dream? But they donât do things like that, even with how long theyâve been friends. Before they started sleeping together, Hob and Dream had always just sort of existed together in the same circle of friends. Dream had actually met Eleanor first, and Hob only when they started dating. Dream has never spent any amount of alone time with Hob before now, and he still doesnât know what sort of relationship they even have, if any at all.Â
Dreamâs worries leave his mind when the others show up. Mervyn stays for only one round of drinks, and Matthew and Jessamy only two before they head out for the evening. They have an early appointment with the planner the next day to do some cake tastings. Lucienne stays the longest, though she really only nurses the same glass of wine the entire night. She talks Dream through his frustrations with his editors, and his overall story. Sheâs been with him every step of the way to getting this publishing deal, and Dream hasnât told her yet, but sheâs going to be the front page of his acknowledgements.Â
Heâs so tempted to unload on her about Hob as well, but before he can gather the courage to broach the subject, she gets a text from someone and blushes furiously when she reads it. Dream pokes and prods until she admits sheâs started seeing someone. Johanna. Sheâs not sure if itâs serious yet but well. Theyâre definitely physically compatible, and while she wonât show Dream her phone, he already knows sheâs been sent something particularly provocative. So Dream lets her go, and then debates between ordering another drink or going home.Â
He does neither of those things, and instead pulls out his phone and texts Hob, outside their group chat. The alcohol has more than loosened Dreamâs inhibitions and right now, heâs lonely and horny. Lucienneâs reserved but still elated expression as she had happily explained Johanna had made Dream miss Hob. So he texts the other man and tells him heâd like to come over.
Hobâs response isnât what heâs hoping for: are you drunk?
Dream frowns at his phone and then his initial message: aree tou busy?? Can i comeocer?
Okay, maybe he was a little more drunk than he realized. He asks Hob if it matters, being careful this time to make sure he types everything out carefully, and then closes out his tab while he waits for a response. Nothing comes. Dreamâs annoyed and disappointed, but not surprised, so he starts to make his way to the train platform to head home.Â
While heâs waiting, he finally gets a response back from Hob: okay. come over.
Dream changes platforms immediately and heads in the direction of Hobâs apartment.Â
When he arrives, Hob pushes a glass of water towards him, which Dream drinks down greedily. When heâs done, he joins Hob on the couch and crawls into his lap to kiss him, but Hob pushes him away after only a few moments. Dream lets out an annoyed noise when Hob does it again.Â
âDream, not tonight,â Hob says, pushing him away when Dream tries to kiss him again.
âWhat do you mean?â Dream asks, now confused.Â
âI donât want to have sex right now,â Hob replies, before he pushes Dream off of him and back onto the couch, going back to watching whatever crime drama heâd had on before Dream arrived.
Dream stares, open mouthed and hurt, as Hob decidedly ignores him for Netflix. He gets up angrily and stomps around the kitchen, tearing open the cabinets looking for something to eat, and also more water because now he has a pounding headache as his body struggles to sober up now that heâs no longer drinking.Â
âDream!â Hob exclaims, getting up when Dream slams more than one cabinet door closed. âCome on, donât be like this.â
âLike what?â Dream sneers, stuffing a potato chip into his mouth angrily. âI came all this way just to fuck you, didnât I?â
âYouâre drunk,â Hob points out.
âIâm always drunk when we have sex,â Dream argues, crossing his arms, chip bag still in hand. âYouâve never had a problem with it before.âÂ
âYeah well, Iâm not drunk now, and Iâm also not in the mood,â Hob replies angrily.Â
âThen why the hell did you invite me over?â Dream growls.Â
âI donât know!â Hob exclaims, throwing his hands up in defeat. âI wasnât thinking, obviously,â he adds, then gestures to Dream. âHow was I supposed to know youâd be like this?â
Dream huffs, then carelessly tosses the bag of chips onto the counter. A few stray chips scatter across the counter, but Dream doesnât care. Clearly Hob didnât want him around, not for sex, and definitely not to comfort Dream after the awful day heâd had, so there was no point in staying.Â
âFine, Iâll go,â Dream says, moving towards the door where heâd kicked off his shoes. He decides heâll check the train times on the walk over.
âDream,â Hob says, grabbing his arm before he can make it to the hallway. âItâs late. Come on. Letâs go to sleep.â
âI can get home on my own just fine,â Dream argues, raising his chin defiantly.
âNo,â Hob replies, his voice stern as he grips Dreamâs arm tighter. âCome on, letâs just go to bed. You need to sleep this off.â
âI can sleep on the couch,â Dream says, yanking his arm out of Hobâs grip. âSince youâre not interested in fucking my bad day out of me.â
âDream, stop being so fucking difficult!â Hob yells, shocking both of them.
The echo of Hobâs roar hangs tensely between them, and Hob steps back from Dream with a hand over his mouth, clearly horrified at what heâs done. Dream also feels the prick of tears in his eyes as he processes just how angry Hob actually has been with him all night.Â
How the hell had this night gotten worse? Dream doesnât know, but what he does know is that he needs to leave before he starts drunkenly crying in Hobâs apartment, and Hob is the last person Dream wants to see him like this.Â
Dream tries making his way towards the door again, but Hob seems to regain his senses and physically blocks him. Dream tries to push him, then tries to hit Hobâs shoulder to make him move, but Hob grabs Dreamâs wrist to stop him.Â
âIâm sorry,â Hob says, his voice much softer this time, laced with regret and pity. Dream hates it. âI lost my temper, I shouldnât have done that,â he adds.
âFuck off!â Dream yells, and oh. No. No, no, no, no. Dream furiously blinks back the tears before they can start falling, even if he canât stop the pained hiccups that betray his emotional state from leaving his mouth.
âJustââ Dream gasps, then forces himself to breathe, slow and deep, and then counts to five. âLet me go home. You donâtââ his breath hitches again, cutting off what he wants to say. Fuck. He couldnât even string together a full sentence if he tried.
âDream, please,â Hob replies, his voice practically begging now. âDonât leave. I donât want you going home alone like this.â Dream turns to meet Hob eyes, and his anger dissipates slightly when he sees how devastated Hob looks.Â
Despite how awful Dream feels, even he knows itâd be a mistake to go home in his current state. Heâs highly emotional, drunk, and likely wouldnât be paying attention to his surroundings. He could get mugged, or worse.Â
âFine,â Dream finally relents. Hob lets out a sigh of relief, and hugs him. Dream doesnât hug him back. Heâs still angry after all.Â
But Dream lets Hob wrangle him down the hall to the bedroom, and then he strips down to his underwear to sleep, since he doesnât have any of his own clothes here. And why would he? Itâs not like theyâre anything other than an occasional hookup after all.Â
Hob does offer Dream a shirt and pajama pants to wear, but Dream tosses them away from him without so much as a second glance. Hob sighs at Dream, and then shuts off the lights, turning away from Dream without another word to sleep. Heâs clearly still frustrated with Dream too. Â
Dream lies there next to Hob, feeling cold and rejected and lonely. He hates everything about this. Hates that Hob let him come over and make a fool out of himself when he could have easily just told Dream to fuck off and go home instead. Hates that Hob even came onto him in the first place, all those months ago, and now theyâre here, in this weird in-between state where they're together but not together.Â
Dream realizes too late that he really hadnât cared if they had sex or not either. Heâd wanted comfort more than anything, comfort from Hob specifically. But the only comfort he knew that came from Hob was sex. And thatâs the worst part of it. Dream knows now, without a doubt, that he has feelings for Hob. That he wants more out of this than what theyâre doing now, but heâs not sure Hob does. At this point, heâs too afraid to ask.Â
Hobâs bedroom suddenly feels like a suffocating prison as all of Dreamâs feelings hit him at once. Heâs going to cry again if he stays, and he really doesnât want Hob to see him like this. He doesnât want Hob to know just how badly heâs gotten under Dreamâs skin.Â
Dream realizes he needs to leave. Heâs stone cold sober now, having laid here in the dark with nothing but his thoughts and his third glass of water now emptied on the bedside table. He listens carefully for the evening out of Hobâs breath, then shuffles around in bed to see if any of his movements disturb the other man. When heâs certain that Hob is deep in sleep, Dream hurriedly dresses himself, checks to see that thereâs still trains running this late at night, and then rushes out when he sees the next one is in just 15 minutes. Hob lives about 12 minutes from the nearest station. Dream can make it if he runs.Â
The front door slams loudly behind him as he leaves, but Dream doesnât care. Hob probably wonât even notice that heâs gone.Â
Dream makes it to the station just as the train is pulling into the stop. As heâs getting on, he hears yelling and frantic running, the sounds of someone about to miss the train. Dream considers holding the doors until he sees just who's rushing towards the train.
It's Hob. Hob who is barely dressed, and running down the steps to the train platform in nothing but sweatpants and slippers. He catches Dream's eyes and waves frantically to get his attention. Dreamâs heart flutters momentarily, and he imagines that maybe he was wrong about everything after all. That maybe thereâs more to whatâs been happening between them than just rebound sex.
Dream gets on the train anyways, and the doors shut just as Hob reaches the platform, and the train pulls away.Â
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They pretend like nothing is wrong after that night. Hob had texted Dream the next morning to ask if heâd gotten home okay, and Dream had left him on read. He had far more important things to worry about that morning, like his pounding headache and the fact that he needed to talk to his editor at some point.
When he finally fights off the last of his hangover, Dream has a much more pleasant conversation with his editing team, who he apologizes to for losing his temper. His team apologizes to him as well, which he doesnât expect, but they reassure him itâs their job to encourage him, not discourage him from writing. They have a candid conversation about communication, and then agree on a plan to move forward with his book.
Dream happily shares the good news with his group chat, still ignoring the direct message from Hob. He credits Lucienne for talking him off the ledge the night before, and the flood of positive and congratulatory messages flows easily after that. Even from Hob.Â
Dream sighs when he reads the other manâs message in their group chat, then flips back to their private conversation. He really should apologize for his behavior as well, but he has no idea how to explain himself without revealing more than heâs comfortable with. So Dream turns off his phone, and goes back to working on his novel, hoping that maybe heâll come up with something to say later in the evening.
He never does end up replying. Hob doesnât privately message him either after that.
-----------------
Itâs trivia night at the White Horse, and Dream would normally be excited to go and show off his arcane knowledge, but tonight heâs dreading the occasion. Itâs been a month since he and Hob had last seen each other and he really has no idea how heâs supposed to act around the other man. Do they pretend like nothing ever happened between them? They havenât spoken since, so things were clearly over between them.Â
Dreamâs still trying to tell himself itâs better this way. They were hurtling towards disaster, and Dream shouldâve really known better, shouldâve known that he really canât do casual after all, and now heâs probably permanently fucked up his friendship with Hob because he couldnât keep his own feelings in check. He still hasnât apologized, he doesnât know if Hob even wants an apology from him at this point, or if he just wants to forget about everything that ever happened between them.Â
So when Dreamâs sister texts him and tells him sheâs in town for a few days, Dream jumps at the opportunity to meet her and cancel on trivia night plans. He receives a variety of boos and âweâll lose without you!â responses, all of which make him smile despite himself. Even Hob laments the loss of Dreamâs knowledge for the evening.Â
When Dream arrives at The New Inn later that night, itâs not only his sister that greets him. Eleanor is with her. Dream hasnât seen her since she and Hob broke up. When sheâd moved across the country, she left the group chat and hasnât really talked to anyone since. Dream had missed her, if he were being honest with himself. Even though Hob had said the breakup was amicable, and that Eleanor had only left the chat because she couldnât be part of their plans any longer, Dream was still sad to see her go. He realizes he couldâve tried harder to keep in touch with her, but then everything with Hob had happened and well.
Dream wants to hug Eleanor and also scream at her. Wants to unload what a horrible last month heâs had, and also wants her to never find out heâd been sleeping with her ex. Itâs not her fault that Dream fell into bed with Hob knowing he wasnât over his relationship with her yet. Itâs entirely her fault for being so perfect, however, that thereâs no way Dream could ever compare, and thatâs why Hob wonât look at him when they have sex.Â
When they had sex. Dream and Hob have barely spoken since that night, and only in their group chat. Heâs pretty sure Hob doesnât want to even be in the same room as Dream right now, for how ugly Dream had acted over what was supposed to be just a casual hookup.
âNot that Iâm unhappy to see you, Ellie,â Dream says, giving both her and his sister a hug before taking a seat across from them. âBut what are you doing back in town?â
âDreamââ Didi starts, but then Eleanor places a hand on her shoulder and stops her.
âWeâre dating,â Eleanor says bluntly, moving her hand from Didiâs shoulder down to her hand. Their fingers interlace and Dreamâs eyes boggle as he looks between them, shocked.
âWhen did this happen?â he asks, settling himself in for what must be an extremely interesting story.
Eleanor and Didi take turns recalling the story of how they met through a local meetup for knitters in Seattle, and how Didi had recognized Eleanor from one time sheâd come out drinking with Dream and his friends years ago. Happy to have a familiar face, Didi and Eleanor had become fast friends, and they both realized they had a lot in common too.
Before either of them knew it, Eleanor was inviting Didi out everywhere as they explored their new city together, and Didi became accustomed to calling Eleanor after every shift at the hospital. One thing led to another, and then another, and now theyâre practically attached at the hip. Didi even shyly admits theyâve talked about moving in together.Â
The two of them beam at him when theyâre done with their story and Dream wants to congratulate them. Wants to be happy that his favorite sister is dating one of his oldest friends. He wants to make plans to visit them in their new home, maybe even help them move if he can work out the logistics. He hasnât been out to Seattle in some time, and he really could use a vacation.
âI started sleeping with Hob after you left,â is what Dream says instead.Â
Eleanor spits her (thankfully white) wine all over Didi, who freezes in place, staring at Dream in shock. Dream stares back, horrified both at what he just said, and what followed after. He braces himself, expecting Eleanor to explode on him, to call him a slut, a bad friend, a terrible human being.
Instead, Eleanor starts laughing. Didi does too eventually. Â
âOh my god, of course he did,â Eleanor wheezes as she doubles over in her seat. Their server rushes over, bringing some extra napkins and Didi excuses herself to the restroom to wipe off the rest of the wine. Dream and Eleanor are left staring at one another in silence, before Eleanor breaks the tension with another giggle.
âIâm sorry,â she apologizes. âIâm not laughing at you, really, just the whole situation. Imagine if you brought Hob with you tonight?â she practically squeals.
âIâyouâre not mad?â Dream asks, more shocked than anything. Eleanor just shrugs and drinks from her water glass this time, instead of her wine.
âI mean, did Hob at least wait a day before he tried to make a move on you?â Eleanor asks. âNot that it matters really, we were broken up before I left but well, you know. Respectful turnaround time and all that.â
âIââ Dream stutters, trying desperately to recall when that first time with Hob actually happened. âI mean, I think it was a few weeks after you left?â
Eleanor snorts. âGood enough, I guess.âÂ
âSorry,â Dream says, shaking his head as Didi returns and sits back down next to Eleanor. âIâm still trying to wrap my head around this. Did you know he wanted toâ?â
âOh no, no,â Eleanor says then starts laughing again. âOur breakup wasnât planned or anything, donât worry. Itâs just that, well. He told me he wanted to stay with you guys more than me, so Iâm not that surprised?â
âWhat?â Dream says, dumbly. âBut you both said the breakup was mutual.â Eleanor sighs.
âI mean,â she replies. âIt was technically mutual. But Hob wanted to stay in Boston, and I didnât. And one of our last arguments before I left was about abandoning our friends.â She shrugs again. âI love you all, donât get me wrong, but I really love living out in Seattle more. Especially the company.â She smiles at Didi, who kisses her on the cheek. âIt kind of sucked that Hob really didnât want to move, but it wouldnât have been fair to ask him to do it all just for me and my career goals.â
âOh,â Dream says dumbly. âYeah, I guess that makes sense.â Dream wouldnât have wanted to leave Boston for any reason either, so it makes sense, he thinks. Boston is just that. Itâs home.
âItâll make double dating a little weird, though,â Eleanor adds, and Didi laughs.Â
âI think weâll be fine though,â Didi adds, then turns her focus to Dream. âSo tell us about you and Hob,â she says. Â
âIâweâre not,â Dream stammers, unsure of how to proceed further with the conversation. Eleanor and Didiâs expressions both fall.
âOh, Dream,â Didi says, reaching out to take his hand. âIâm sorry, I didnât mean to put you on the spot.â
âItâs fine,â Dream says though he feels anything but. âI donâtâit didnât last long between us,â he admits.Â
âWow, he fumbled the bag on you?â Eleanor interjects, shock clearly painted on her face. âMy god, he really is an idiot.â
âNo Iâwe had a fight,â Dream says, unsure of why he feels the need to clarify. âIt was my fault really. I shouldnât haveâhe wasnât ready to commit.âÂ
Eleanor makes a confused face.Â
âThatâdoesnât sound like Hob,â Eleanor says after a moment, and Dream huffs in annoyance.
âYou only knew him while you were dating, how would you know that?â Dream retorts.
âBecause he told me heâs never done casual,â Eleanor replies. âWhen we first started seeing each other, he basically said just that. Thatâs what I liked about him, he wanted to do the whole commitment thing right away, even if it didnât end up working out.â
âWell maybe heâs changed,â Dream says, far more grumpily than he intended. âHeâs never said shit to me about anything, and still hasnât, so it doesnât matter.â
âDream,â Didi says gently, squeezing his hand. âAre you okay?â
âItâs fine,â Dream insists, not wanting to go into the details of how heâd terribly fucked up his situation with Hob.Â
âYou donât sound fine at all,â Didi replies.
âMaybe we shouldnât have this conversation at dinner though?â Eleanor interjects, looking concernedly at him. Dream huffs and then pouts. Eleanor was always hyper attuned to when people were upset, especially Dream.
But Dream does want to talk about it, even if it is a bit awkward, all things considered. Eleanor seems to at least be willing to hear Dream out, if nothing else.Â
They wrap up their bill quickly, taking some of their dinner to go, and find their way over to Dreamâs apartment, where he spends the rest of the night wrapped up in a blanket while he recounts the past six months to his sister and Eleanor. Thereâs also, perhaps, a lot of wine involved. Solely because Eleanor had decided it was also girls night and they needed a lot of wine for a proper one.
âIâm going to murder him myself,â Eleanor says, holding up her bottle of wine when Dream finishes telling her everything that had happened up until now.Â
âEl, no,â Dream whines. Heâs really more embarrassed about the whole situation now than anything. Talking things over with the two of them had really helped, and Dream wonders if he shouldâve talked to Lucienne, or even Jessamy and Matthew to start. Maybe he wouldnât have let things go so far the way they did between him and Hob.
âNah, he deserves it,â Eleanor replies, taking another swig from her bottle.Â
âItâs really my fault,â Dream tries to insist, knowing itâs useless to defend Hob to his own ex. âI knew he wasnât over you and Iââ
âNo, Dream, listen to me,â Eleanor says, taking Dreamâs face in her hands. âHe neverââ she turns away from him suddenly and then burps. Dream laughs, despite himself.Â
âHe never what?â Dream asks when Eleanor turns back to face him. She sighs.
âHe never told you why he turns off the lights, and thatâs on him,â Eleanor tells him.Â
âIâwhat?â Dream says dumbly. Hob turned off the lights with Eleanor too?
âYeah, heââ Eleanor hiccups and then starts giggling. She releases Dreamâs face and then falls back onto Didi, whoâs sitting behind her on the couch. âHeâs sensitive, you know? Aboutââ she gestures at her front, âAll the hair he has. Hates it when people see it. I think we had sex with the lights on like, twice, at most.â She pauses and then regards Dream, her expression sombering. âI thought you knew.â
âWhy would I know that?â Dream asks, dumfounded. Hob had never given any indicator that he was sensitive about any part of his body, and no one in their friend group had ever commented on it.
âBecause,â Eleanor replies, gesturing wildly. âThink about it. Whenever we went to the beach or anything together, did you ever see him take his shirt off? Or at the pool at Matthew and Jessamyâs place?â
âIââ Dream filters through his memory, which is an especially difficult task considering how drunk they are. He realizes that Eleanorâs right.Â
âShit.â Dream groans. âI think I fucked up.â
âNo, no, he did,â Eleanor insists. âI always told him I didnât mind all the hair,â she adds then sighs. âI mean itâs a lot, but it never bothered me, you know?â
âItâs never bothered me either,â Dream admits. Heâd rather liked the differences in their bodies actually. Hob was broad where Dream was lanky, naturally tan and sunkissed where Dream was pale. Dream had never had an opinion on chest hair before, what little hair heâd had it was so fine and thin that his chest looked bare anyways. But Eleanor was right. Dream had never really seen Hob casually uncovered. And while he was always eager to undress Dream when the lights were still on, Hob almost never fully undressed himself until after heâd shut them off.Â
It seems so obvious now, in retrospect. But Dream had been caught up in his own insecurities to really notice that Hob had any of his own to address.
âI honestly thought he didnât want to look at me when he turned off the lights,â Dream confesses. âThat maybe he was hoping he could pretend I was someone else in the dark.â
âOkay, Iâm with my girlfriend,â Didi says suddenly, a murderous look in her eyes. âIâm a doctor, I can make it look like an accident,â she adds, holding up her weird hand mixed cocktail that has hot sauce in it.Â
âDidi!â Dream exclaims. âNo murder,â he orders, then laughs at the absurdity of the entire situation. They all start laughing, and Dream feels something unwind in his chest when they do. He thinks about texting Hob, but ultimately decides against it. What he wants to tell him, he wants to do it sober, and in person.Â
Dream wakes up the next morning extremely hungover, and orders breakfast for delivery. Didi and Eleanor try to insist on paying him back, but he waves away their money, and tells them they can buy him dinner when he flies out to see them move. They both hug him fiercely on their way out and make him promise to see them at least one more time before they fly back to Seattle.
-----------------
A week after his conversation with his sister and Eleanor, Dream is outside Hobâs apartment door, pacing nervously as he rehearses everything he wants to say to Hob. His apology. His request to start things over, if Hob still wants to try. How heâs really been feeling about their whole not-relationship status.
Really, heâs just stalling knocking on Hobâs door. What if Hob doesnât answer when he sees itâs Dream? What if he tells Dream to go away without even hearing him out? What ifâ
Dream groans and then mentally slaps himself. He needs to stop worrying himself unnecessarily. Either Hob will want to hear him out or he wonât. But Dream needs to at least try.
Heâs about to raise his hand to finally knock on the door, when suddenly he hears Hobâs voice, distinctly from not inside the apartment.Â
âDream?â Hob asks. Dream turns in the direction of his voice and finds Hob standing at the end of the hall, groceries in hand. Dream realizes heâs been an idiot standing in front of a completely empty apartment.Â
âHi,â Dream says, every rehearsed speech and romantic gesture heâd just been rehearsing evaporating from his mind like wisps of smoke.
âHi,â Hob replies, his voice flat. He looks tired, but not angry at least, to see Dream. âDid you need something?â he asks as he walks slowly towards his front door, eyeing Dream a little suspiciously. Dream canât really blame him. Their last interaction had ended rather poorly.
âIâcan we talk?â Dream asks, stepping aside so Hob can put his key in the lock. Hob sighs and his shoulders droop, like heâs been dreading this exact situation.Â
âSure,â Hob replies, putting on a fake cheerful demeanor as he opens the door to let himself and Dream in.Â
âDo you need help with anything?â Dream asks, trailing Hob towards the kitchen.Â
âIf you want,â Hob replies, setting the groceries down onto the counter. But before Dream can start unpacking anything, he sighs again and groans.Â
âActually, Dream,â Hob says, turning around and facing him head on. âLetâs just talk now.âÂ
âUhmâokay,â Dream replies, now feeling incredibly nervous. Hob looks at him expectantly, crossing his arms as he waits for Dream to gather his thoughts.Â
Finally, Dream says, âI wanted to say Iâm sorry. About everything that happened last time I was here.â
His apology seems to surprise Hob, who suddenly straightens up from his leaning position against the counter.
âOh,â Hob replies, sounding dumbstruck. âIâIâm sorry too,â he offers, uncrossing his arms and running a hand through his hair. Dream realizes itâs longer than the last time heâd seen it. âI shouldnât have lost my temper at you that night.â
âTo be fair, I was being an ass,â Dream admits, even though it pains him to do so. Â
âYeah but you had a reason to be,â Hob says. âI was just feeling sorry for myself for no reason and I took it out on you.â
âI still took my shitty day out on you,â Dream replies, shrugging. âSo I guess we were both not at our best that night.â
âI guess not,â Hob accepts, with a small smile. âWeâre okay then?â
Dream nods. âYes,â he says, offering a small smile himself, then stepping towards Hob. âWhy were you feeling sorry for yourself?â Hobâs expression shutters closed again, and he shakes his head.Â
âItâs not important,â he says, turning away and refusing to meet Dreamâs eyes. Â
âHob,â Dream says, taking another step closer and reaching out to take the other manâs hand in his. âItâs important to me,â he adds. Â
Hob sighs, and then turns his eyes to the ceiling. When he meets Dreamâs gaze again, he looks pained.Â
âIâm not good at being casual Dream,â Hob tells him bluntly, and Dream feels a sense of deja vu run through him like a live wire. âIf weâre going to keep doingâŠthis, I want there to be a commitment. Itâs not just sex to me.â
Itâs almost identical to what Eleanor had said about Hob to Dream a week prior. Dream suddenly feels wretched for not noticing sooner, but also indignant, because why had Hob assumed that wasnât what Dream wanted as well?Â
âHob,â Dream says, as calmly as he can manage, before he squeezes Hobâs hand tightly. âWhat made you think I didnât want the same things?â
Hobâs face falls. He looks intently at Dreamâs face, and whatever he finds there only seems to upset him further.Â
âIâI donât know,â Hob admits, before he groans and places his free hand over his face. Dream finds it a bit comforting that he hasnât tried to remove Dreamâs hand over his other one.
âIâve read this whole thing wrong, havenât I?â Hob says through his hand, before slapping his forehead. âIâm a fucking idiot.â
âYouâre not,â Dream says, before he takes Hobâs free hand as well. âAnd to be fair,â he adds, âitâs occurred to me recently that I may have, as well. Weâve never talked aboutâabout this,â he gestures between them. âUs. We just sort of skip to the sex.â
âWell, we have been drunk every time,â Hob replies. âYou said so yourself.â
âNotâevery time,â Dream says. âAfter Matthew got food poisoning, when I thought that you had invited me out on a date, we only had one drink each that we didnât finish.â
âWait,â Hob stutters, his whole body going rigid. âYou thought I had invited you out for a date? Thatâs whyâ,â his eyes widen suddenly. âThatâs why you wore the blazer.â
Dream blushes furiously and now it is his turn to look away from Hobâs scrutinizing gaze. âYou donât have to rub it in.â
âNo Iâm not Iâ,â Hob groans again, and then, unexpectedly, pulls his hands free before dropping his head down on Dreamâs shoulder. Dream startles when he feels Hobâs arms suddenly wrap around his waist shortly after.
âI had no idea. None at all,â Hob confesses, then groans again. âGod I wouldâve taken you somewhere nicer if I knew you wanted it to be a date.â
Dream shrugs, then reaches up to pat Hob on the back. âItâs fine. Really.â
âNot really, but we can agree to disagree,â Hob replies, before he tilts his head slightly up to look at Dream âCan I get a do-over on that then?â he asks. âTake you out on a proper date?â
Dream wants that, he realizes. Desperately. So he nods.Â
âI do want that,â Dream says honestly. âButââ
âOh God, thereâs a âbutâ,â Hob groans before he straightens and untangles himself from Dream. Dream already misses the warmth of Hobâs body.Â
âItâs not a bad âbutâ,â Dream replies. âBut thereâs something thatâs been bothering me since weâsince all this started,â he finishes. âI want to make sure weâre really on the same page.â
Hob nods. âOkay, sure. What is it?â he asks.
Dream takes a deep breath to brace himself, and then looks Hob directly in the eye. Now or never, he supposes.Â
âWhy do you turn off the lights?â Dream asks.Â
Hob blinks, slow, then suddenly blushes a furious red before he buries his face in his hands.
âAw, come on Dream,â Hob sighs. âItâs really embarrassing.â
Dream softens a bit, but remains resolute. Eleanor had told him what she thought had been the problem all along, but he still needs to hear it from Hob himself. Â
âI need to know, Hob,â Dream insists.
âWhy?â Hob asks, then sighs again. âI mean, I donât know, itâs pretty obvious isnât it? Iâm not really much to look at, you know,â he says, gesturing to himself.
âNot much to look at?â Dream asks, unable to keep the disbelief out of his voice.
âI know, itâs stupid,â Hob sighs, running a hand over his face. âBut I mean, Dream, look at you. Youâre gorgeous and IâmâŠI donât know, not that?â
âIâm still not following,â Dream says, still confused but also growing more and more uneasy about what Hob is implying. âDid youâŠdid you really not think I was attracted to you? At all?â
âNo, IâI justâ,â Hob stutters. âI donât know what I thought, honestly,â he says, looking guilty. âI justâIâm not as confident as you about how I look naked,â he adds, gesturing to his front, and Dreamâs heart sinks at the confirmation of yet another thing Eleanor had told him. âI thoughtâŠmaybe youâd change your mind about being with me. If you saw, wellâ everything.â
âEverything,â Dream replies flatly.Â
âI mean, you know Iâm reallyâŠhairy,â Hob says, before he winces. âAnd well, Iâm not really in shape or anything like that eitherâŠâ he trails off, looking even more guilty with every new word that comes out of his mouth. Like heâs only just realizing now that he pushed his anxieties about his body onto Dream, who clearly hasn't noticed any of the things Hob's insecure about.
âSoâŠwhat?â Dream says, suddenly feeling indignance and hurt creep into his voice. âYou just assumed I wouldnât find you attractive unless I was drunk and we had sex in the dark?â
âWait, what?â Hob exclaims.Â
âAm I really that shallow sounding to you?â Dream continues, already feeling his emotions start to get the better of him.
âNo, oh god, no,â Hob replies immediately. âDream, I donât know whatâs brought this on, but swear it had nothing to do with you. I was just stupid and insecure about myself, and I wasnât thinking properly. Iâm sorry, I really had no idea it bothered you so much.â
A somewhat tense and awkward silence falls between them. Dream mulls over what Hob has told him, feeling wretched about how deeply theyâve both misunderstood one another. But he had come here to clear those misunderstandings after all. Hob had admitted his insecurities. Now Dream had to as well.Â
âI actually thoughtââ Dream says, then takes a shuddering breath to calm himself. âI thought you turned the lights off because you didnât want to look at me,â he finally admits. âBecause I wasnât who you really wanted to be with.â
Hobâs eyes widen, first in shock, then horror. âWait you thought that Iââ
âWas using me as a stand-in for Eleanor?â Dream finishes. He wraps his arms around himself and then looks away, refusing to meet Hobâs eyes. He feels like a coward for doing so but Dream knows heâll lose his resolve to admit everything heâd been bottling up if he does. âThe first time we slept together, I assumed you were only looking for a rebound. And when we never talked about it after, or told our friends Iââ
âFuck, Dream,â Hob interrupts, grabbing him suddenly and hugging Dream to his chest. âI had no idea, Iâfuck, Iâm so sorry I made you feel like that.â
Dream sniffles, wrapping his own arms around Hob, shrugging helplessly.Â
âI should have said something sooner,â Dream says. âBut I let itâfester instead. I had no idea that you thought you werenât attractive to me either. But Hob,â he adds, turning his head to meet Hobâs eyes again, hoping he looks as serious as he feels. âI donât just sleep with people Iâm not attracted to. Regardless of how much alcohol is involved.â
Hob nods. âYeah. IâIâm still sorry about everything though.â
âMe too,â Dream replies, then adds, a bit more quietly. âI like the hair, actually.â Hob chokes out a noise that seems half between a laugh and a sob.Â
âYou donât have to sayââ he starts but Dream shushes him.
âI mean it, Hob,â Dream says, before he works a hand between them to pet the small patch of hair peeking out from beneath Hobâs shirt. âI think it suits you. And I would like to be able to fully appreciate it.â
When he looks up at Hob, the other manâs eyes are a bit watery. But then Hob blinks rapidly, and sniffles, before he hugs Dream even more tightly to himself.
âStay the night?â Hob asks. âNot forânot for sex. Just stay with me?â
Dream nods against Hobâs shoulder. âOkay.â
Hob makes a decision to order takeout instead of making dinner like he originally planned, citing that heâd rather spend time talking with Dream anyways. They still put away the groceries, which helps release a lot of the emotional tension that had built up between them, and Dream enjoys the warm, domestic feel of the activity.Â
Once their food arrives, they settle on Hobâs couch and talk late into the night about everything and nothing. Hob catches Dream up on what missed during trivia when he was out with Didi, and Dream shyly admits that Didi had not been the only person heâd talked to that evening. Hob stares at him, equal parts awestruck and mortified, as Dream recalls his conversations with Eleanor and Didi, and how he found out they were dating.Â
âSo what youâre saying is, Iâm lucky to have my bits still attached?â Hob jokes.Â
âHob,â Dream chastises him, bumping their shoulders together. âThatâs not nice.â
âYou didnât date Eleanor,â Hob retorts. âSheâs terrifying, do you know how many serial killer documentaries she used to watch?â
Dream did, in fact, know this. He had been subject to many episodes of Cold Case Files growing up with Didi, and his knowledge had been how he and Eleanor had first become friends. Dream suspects Eleanorâs deep passion for them is actually one of the reasons why she and Didi get along so well.
âHob,â Dream says, a new worry now crossing his mind. âAre youâokayâwith all of this?â he waves vaguely. âWith Didi dating your ex while weâ?â He trails off. They still havenât really decided on what their official relationship status would be going forward, and Dream doesnât want to presume.
Hob nudges Dream with his shoulder, and then kisses the top of his head.Â
âYeah, I am,â Hob answers sincerely. âI meanâitâs never not going to suck that we broke up,â he adds. âBut we had our time, and if sheâs happy then Iâm happy too.â
Dream nods. âThatâs good to hear,â he says.Â
âAre you okay with it?â Hob asks. Dream hums.Â
âI am,â he answers, then huffs a laugh. âI did offer to help them move into their new place, though.â
Hob groans. âDoes this mean I have to help too as part of my good boyfriend duties?â he asks.
Dreamâs potsticker falls out of his mouth mid chew, hits his knee, and then falls to the floor.
âShit!â Dream exclaims, putting his food on the coffee table before bending down to pick up the stray dumpling.Â
âIâdid I say something wrong?â Hob asks, worry now clear in his voice. Dream shakes his head and then flops against Hobâs shoulder.
âYou said nothing wrong,â Dream says into Hobâs shoulder, his face now flushed with embarrassment. âI was just surprised, is all. Youâyou said it so easily.â
âBoyfriend, you mean?â Hob asks, now in a teasing tone. âDo you like it?â
Dream nods, feeling ridiculous about being done in by a single word. But Hob doesnât seem to mind.
âI like it too,â is all he says, before he places a hand underneath Dreamâs chin and kisses him.
-----------------
As theyâre getting ready for bed, Dream feels a thrum of excitement, even though theyâve still agreed that sex is off the table for the night. Theyâre both far too tired and emotionally drained from the evening to put in the effort anyways.
But then Hob is holding out his arm for Dream to snuggle into, and Dream feels like a teenanger as he curls up against Hobâs chest and rests his head on it.Â
âFair warning that youâre going to wake up sweaty if you stay here all night,â Hob tells him. Dream knows he doesnât mean to sound so self-deprecating, but now that he knows just how deep Hobâs insecurities run, it breaks his heart a little.Â
âThatâs fine,â Dream says, pressing himself even closer. He can feel Hobâs chest hair poking through the thin material of his undershirt. Dream rubs his face into it, enjoying the rough, scratchy texture against his check. Hob laughs at Dreamâs actions, and Dream hums in contentment. He really did like the feel of Hobâs chest hair. It was surprisingly soft in certain places, and warm. Maybe Dream would wake up because heâs too warm in the middle of the night. Maybe he wonât. Heâs just glad that now he gets the opportunity to find out.Â
âYou donât have to pretend to be enthusiastic about it,â Hob says as Dream nuzzles him again.
âIâm not,â Dream replies, rolling his eyes. âIt feelsâŠnice.â
âSure,â Hob replies. âSay that again in the morning.â
Dream does in fact, say something similar to that effect in the morning. He says it while he sits atop Hobâs lap, Dream gripping the thick pelt of hair for purchase as he ruts himself desperately against Hob.Â
Theyâve never had sex in the morning. In the bright light of day. Somehow itâs even more intimate than what Dream imagines having sex with the lights on must feel like and he loves it. Hob is looking at Dream like heâs something divine, like he canât quite believe that what theyâre doing is really happening. Dream thinks heâll never let Hob turn off the lights again when they do this. He never again wants to miss a single second of seeing the way Hob looks at him, at how stunning Hobâs entire body looks and feels when pressed against Dreamâs. His new goal, for however long it takes, is that Hob never questions Dreamâs attraction to him ever again.
When theyâve both reached their peaks, Dream collapses on top of Hob, uncaring of the sticky mess between them. Hobâs chest is warm and broad, and Dream finds himself slowly drifting back to sleep. Hob groans after a while, however, wriggling beneath the weight of Dream's body, and disturbing his otherwise peaceful post-coital rest.
âOkay, this is sweet and all, but now Iâm the one that's too hot,â Hob whines, pushing gently at Dreamâs shoulder. Dream laughs, a brazen, awful honking noise that heâs always been insecure about. But Hob had told him the night before that he loves Dreamâs laugh, and Dream can see now that the other man wasnât lying. Heâs looking at Dream softly, so full of affection that Dream nearly forgets he needs to move and just stares at Hob for a while.
âWhat?â Hob asks, his eyes crinkled with happiness.
âNothing,â Dream replies, smiling back before he moves off of his boyfriendâs chest.
Hob gets up from the bed once Dream rolls off of him and heads towards the bathroom. He comes back with two warm washcloths to wipe themselves off with. When theyâre both done, he tosses both cloths in the direction of the hamper, missing his target by mere inches.Â
âClose enough,â Hob says.Â
âThatâll leave a wet spot on your carpet,â Dream tells him, already seeing his prediction start to come true.Â
âIâll get to it later,â Hob replies before he kisses Dream, languid and slow and perfect. âI have more important things to do today.â
#dreamling#dream of the endless/hob gadling#hob x morpheus#dreamling bingo#dreamling bingo 2024#seiya writes#seiya writes dreamling#angst angst angst
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at least two miracles part 11 of the cottagecore series (complete) Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling || 15k || Complete
Alternate Universe - Medieval, Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Physical Disability, Mpreg, Kid Fic, Fae!Dream of the Endless, Hedgewitch!Hob, The Long-Awaited Happy Ending
Hob is a hedgewitch. Dream is fae. And Orpheus is the best of them both.
The conception of Orpheus had been a surprise for the both of them, though it must be said, for entirely different reasons.Â
âWhy would my gender be of consequence?â Dream asked, with appallingly genuine confusion.Â
âBecause,â Hob started, and then could not continue past this. Gender wasâthis was the whole point of gender, the cause for all the shapes and sizes, the reason for the holes that had been delved for columns and the columns that had been shaped for holesâand if gender did not matter then what else was a lie. The seasons? The gods? Did the sun not revolve around the earth?
âJust because your species has chosen to limit childbearing to half its population does not mean the rest of us are so primitive,â Dream sniffed. âYou are aware that mortal women die in childbirth at a rate far higher than any other species in this realm?âÂ
âWhaâno, I did not know that, why would I know anything about childbirth, I didn'tâI didnât marry a woman, I didnât think anyone would be birthing anything!âÂ
Heâd just said the word birthing.Â
Dream would be birthing.Â
AÂ baby.Â
Hob felt lightheaded.Â
âYes. Well.â Dream lifted his nose in the air. âNeither did I.âÂ
âButâbut you knew,â Hob floundered. âYou knew that you couldâthat I couldââÂ
âIncorrect,â Dream disagreed.Â
Hob let his expression fully convey his thoughts on this.Â
âI knew that I could,â Dream clarified, and then tilted his head. âI was unaware that you could.âÂ
âYouââ Hobâs mouth worked for several seconds. âWhat did you think was coming out of my dick?âÂ
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#oh my god it's done#last part y'all#probably#99% sure this is the last part#enjoy the gratuitous fluff#with just a little sprinkle of angst#dreamling#dream of the endless#hob gadling#sandman#my writing#cottagecore verse
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pls do make angst out of it
I need no impetus to make angst about Dream + clothing choices.
--
"Dream."
Dream did not mean to flinch. Perhaps one never meant to flinch. It was an involuntary reaction, one that he should have been above in this form. He should have absolute control over how he manifested.
Except Hob's hand had landed on the back of his neck as he tried to pull Dream from his distant musings. Dream should be above such physical sensations. But he was composed of all fears. All thoughts and memories. The snapping grip of a lion's jaws on the neck of a gazelle. The vulnerability of an unprotected back.
So many dreams, now, and in the still-recent aftermath of his escape, they swirled and spilled within him like floodwaters.
His flinch away broke Hob's touch halfway through grazing a hand along Dream's jaw as he came around the back of the armchair where Dream was sitting. "Did I startle you?"
"Yes," said Dream. He settled deeper into his chair, into his soft sweater, no coat in Hob's flat, not when he did not wish to leave. But he wished he could manifest a higher neckline without it being obvious. "Yes, I was lost in thought."
Hob cupped his chin and tilted his head up and kissed him, and Dream did not flinch.
--
Dream loved Hob very much. The feeling had caught him by the throat not long after their reunion, when Hob had met him again shortly after Dream had resolved the vortex. Hob had taken his hand and looked with worry at the gash still gracing his palm, courtesy of the Corinthian's betrayal.
Dream was made of incorporeal thoughts, not flesh, and Hob had known this by then and still asked, "Can I bandage it for you?"
Dream had acquiesced more out of shock than need. Hob had held his hand, and wrapped it with experienced movements. He couldn't have known that the very act of bandaging sealed the cut in Dream's skin. Such was the power of dreams.
Dream fell quick and perilously with his hand pressed between Hob's, with Hob's kind eyes upon him.
He loved Hob with the pain of a knife stuck through his hand. He loved Hob and he knew that love was a bared throat. And he would bare it. For he wanted love. And he was not supposed to flinch.
--
He loved Hob, sitting in the safety of Hob's bed. Bare legs tangled up together, scratchy hair and strong muscle, and still the high-necked long-sleeved shirt Dream had taken to wearing. Hob kissing under his jaw, and slipping gentle hands under his shirt to brace his hips. The resonant dreams were loud--the exploration of youth and a first time together, the familiar bodies of a long-awaited reunion, the peace of an entangled old age--and for a while these layered memories distracted him from the fact that Hob still hadn't stripped his shirt off.
Perhaps. Hob saw more than Dream thought he did.
"You see much," Dream said, voice just edging on rough, and Hob paused, pulling away to look at him. Tilted his head in question, and Dream took Hob's hand, laid it along the collar of his shirt, below the jut of his throat.
Hob kept his hand there, a loose half-collar of Dream's neck, and said, "You always flinch when I come up behind you."
Dream looked somewhere around Hob's jaw, avoiding his eyes, and so had to rely on Hob's voice to imagine his expression. And Hob's voice was very gentle indeed.
"Do you know," he started, taking Dream's cheek in his other hand, "once upon a time--well, not so long ago, really, considering--I would jump at every loud noise? War gets in your head like that."
Dream knew of this, from the nightmares that were within him. He hurt to think of Hob like that. He laid a hand on Hob's thigh, though he was unsure if he was attempting to comfort Hob or merely grounding himself. "But no longer?"
"Not so much. It doesn't have to last forever." He stroked his thumb back and forth over Dream's cheek. "Helps that it's pretty rare for a loud noise going off in London nowadays to be a gunshot."
"But not impossible."
"In my experience, vanishingly few things are impossible, love."
Dream's capture should have been impossible. He had thought himself invulnerable. He had not seen the summoning coming. Had not seen a century of imprisonment coming, or Corinthian's betrayal, or Desire's. They had crawled silently up his back. Sunk their teeth into his spinal cord hard enough to snap.
"Do you feel like I'm going to hurt you, when you can't see me coming?" Hob asked.
He had failed indeed, if Hob thought so. "I do not think you will harm me."
"But do you feel it?"
Dream went to deny it, then thought. Of the prickling feeling that crept up his neck when he had his back to a room. To a doorway. The cold air on his shoulders before he pulled on one of Hob's sweaters, used it as a shield. "I do not like. To feel exposed."
Hob ran a hand through his hair. Dragged down to the nape of his neck and held him there. Not a threat, but a brace; stay close to me. Dream followed the touch and tucked his face in against Hob's shoulder. "Don't, then. I'll cover you."
"With shield and sword," Dream murmured, and Hob hummed in agreement. His hand was warm on the back of Dream's neck. Always, Hob was banishing the cold.
"I do not," Dream repeated, for it felt imperative that Hob know this, "think that you will hurt me."
Hob kissed his hair. "I know."
--
Love was showing one's back. Dream shivered as Hob slid into place behind him, thighs bracketing Dream's hips. As he wrapped his arms around Dream's torso, bare chest to Dream's bare back. He was so warm. His breath ruffled Dream's hair. Hob's arms caged him where he might have wanted to run. He could have disappeared to the Dreaming. But didn't.
Hob kissed the base of his neck. Kissed the bump of each vertebra. The vulnerable spot under his ear. Splayed his hands over Dream's belly. Another soft place.
This form was made of soft places. Outside, Dream swept his coat around himself to shield them. Fabric made for weak protection, but the less he was seen, the better. Dreams suffered in daylight.
Here, the soft places felt Hob's touch the most. Dream did not want to be soft, was not meant to be. But he did want Hob's hands, and the kisses placed along his throat. Always a conundrum, with Hob.
Dream did not reconcile it now. Instead he turned his head, pressed his lips to Hob's over his shoulder. Took Hob's hand and put it in his hair, encouraged Hob to tangle his fingers and pull, so that Dream's throat was bared, his balance thrown, so Hob could kiss and bite up his neck and hold him there.
He trembled against Hob's lips. Shook in his grasp. Dream knew the nightmare of a rabbit caught in a fox's teeth, and the dream of a fox with blood on its lips. But he was no rabbit, and no fox either. He could decide for himself if he wanted Hob to touch him, to pull the collar down.
Hob's teeth grazed his pulse. Dream whimpered, the sound loud in the quiet bedroom, and Hob shushed him. Stroked a hand along his throat. Dream loved him, and that he held him, and that he let Dream live on this boundary of discomfort so he might decide which way he wanted to fall, pain or pleasure. Love was risk-taking.
Dream leaned into Hob's palm, felt the pressure on his throat. His back to Hob's chest. Their bodies in alignment. Teeth to spine. Hob's body as a shield.
"How are you doing?" Hob whispered. His lips brushed Dream's ear, hair tickled his temple.
Dream let his limbs go loose that Hob might catch him. Love was a net.
"Good," he sighed, and tipped his head back.
#me: i'm not going to write prompts i have too many wips#also me when there's angst: đ#this feels like a spiritual companion to the dream's wings verse#dream of the endless#hob gadling#dreamling#dreamling fic#my writing
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"But he gave it up, and I'm still here."
#that mf phrase hits me every time#but I know dream lives happily in hob's dreams...#(that's me being in denial ok)#im sorry for the angst#and for the comic spoiler I guess#the sandman comic#the sandman#dream of the endless#hob gadling#dreamling#hsdreamling
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..gone
#this was inspired by that one comic page where hob is mourning#and i thought what if hob just forgets how dream looked like.. ik thats kinda far fetched but i wanna think that#for.. angst reasons lol#and that forgetting thing is visible in the photographs he has#now that I think abt it the photos could be seen as a metaphor hmmm#i was actually crying the whole time drawing this lol#but i cant blame anyone but myself#dreamling#dream of the endless#hob gadling#the sandman#hob x dream#dream x hob#the sandman netflix#sandman dream#this took me almost 15 hours to complete#the longest ive ever spent on a drawing#i lowkey want this to do good :P#k bye
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Loverâs eye
#the sandman#the sandman netflix#sandman fanart#dream Ă hob#dreamling#hob gadling#fanart#post 1889 angst
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oops my Hob angst fic is now over 2k words and still doesnât have a name đ«
#this is getting out of control lmao#poor hob#sandman netflix#the sandman#hob gadling#this bad boy can fit so much trauma#hob gadling angst#gadlads
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Don't Leave
#horse girl au#dreamling#dream of the endless#centaur!dream#the art tag#hob gadling#Dream: IF I TOUCH YOUR SHIRT IT DOESN'T COUNT#come get y'alls angst#blasts Foreigners god by hozier#the sandman#centaurs
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"It's going to be alright, love... everything's going to be alright..."
Do we need end of season 7 (insert correct number) fix-its already? No?
#I'm angsting sorry#dreamling#own art#sketches#dream of the endless#hob gadling#the sandman fanart#teejaystumbles
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While Dream was hanging out in the fishbowl, a few dreams and nightmares that (like the rest of the Dreaming) think Hob would be the best thing to happen to Dream in a long time and also that Dream has abandoned them all, go and start bothering Hob in the waking world
But because they're dreams and nightmares, it kind of manifests as (usually awful) hallucinations. Specifically of Dream, a lot of the time (look they're trying to get their lord's attention by needling his human, yes it's stupid, no they don't have any better ideas)
And Hob, with the same attitude that's carried him through 600-odd years is like 'well I guess immortal life is already so goddamn weird this might as well happen' and just rolls with the fact that he is having hallucinations now. Learns some coping mechanisms, gets really good at not reacting to them even when horrible terrible things are happening
So when Dream finally does get back and goes to see Hob, he's just like oh cool I'm seeing things again, thought I got over that like ten years ago, ah well got a lecture to finish, better get on with it and barely even glances at Dream
Dream, of course, reacts to this like đ„ș like the sad wet cat he is, but also maybe this is a bad time. His friend is shaping young minds, he's very important and busy, Dream can come back later
So he pops back into Hob's life that evening when most people are, if not asleep, then at least at home. Hob's in the New Inn (of course) but it's quiet enough that Dream thinks maybe Hob will talk to him this time
Absolutely nothing. Like sitting across from a brick wall (and because Dream tends not to be noticed if he wants, and he very much doesn't want to be perceived while he begs forgiveness from a mortal, people's eyes just kind of skim over him, which isn't helping with Hob's assumption that he's a figment of Hob's imagination)
Dream is feeling very, very cold. None of the gentle things he's been saying to Hob have got anymore reaction than his hand tightening slightly around his marking pen (Hob is waiting for something horrible to happen, as it so often used to when he imagined his stranger, and is getting more and more tense the longer it doesn't)
Eventually they're the only ones left, even the bar staff have gone home because it's Hob's pub and he has a set of keys. So finally, FINALLY Hob looks up and is like 'oh, you're still here. We're still doing this, then' flatly
Dream: I thought I might - (he was going to say apologise) Hob: yes alright get on with it, the sooner you start the sooner you can piss off again (thinking this is a vision here to torment him) Dream: ...very well. I understand, and you need not worry, I shall not trouble you further. Only, let me ask, one final time: do you still wish to live? Hob: (well it's never gone down like this before, at least I'm getting some variety in my waking nightmares) what sort of bloody stupid question is that, obviously yes! Dream: I am. Pleased to hear that. Goodbye, Robert Gadling
So off he goes, leaving a bottle of wine that he pinched out of someone's dreams on the table. Hob scoffs, rolls his eyes and goes to bed
And panics the next day when one of the bar staff asks where the super fancy wine came from, and also who his friend was last night, didn't get a good look at him, but I don't think I've seen him before?
There Hob is. Screaming internally, because he's only gone and fucked it all up and now he's NEVER going to see his friend again
(obviously he does, probably because one of the nightmares finally confesses what they did to Lucienne, who tells Matthew, who speaks both fluent Dumb Human and Dramatic Fucker Dreamlord and manages to get the two of them in the same room long enough to talk it out)
#Dreamling#Hob Gadling#dream of the endless#On today's episode of 'fics I have so vividly in my head and Simply Cannot Put To Paper'#Have some angst. On the house
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i have been thinking SO HARD about a quantum leap au
#my art#fishfingersandscarves#the sandman#the sandman netflix#doodles#quantum leap au#hob gadling#robert gadling#desire of the endless#dr ian wright#the angst............THE HISTORY
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