#how dare you send me this lol

[valeriianz]

Here's a thought for you re: Hob's daydream's affecting Dream.

Hob, it seems, is oral fixated today.

Dream's attention is divided between Hob's mundane chatter about his students, the attention he always saves to the Dreaming, and... the firm press against his lips, against his tongue, nearly reaching the back of his throat in it's vulgar audacity.

Hob's words trail at those moments, he sounds distracted and like he doesn't really notice the way his words repeat, his gaze dropping again and again, fist clenching when Dream swallows.

Dream huffs through his nose, very well, he will indulge him, if he must.

Subtly, he flicks his tongue across his lips, glancing just in time to see Hob frozen, words forgotten, staring intensely.

And there it is, the push against his lips, the persistent request to open his lips and take, take, take. wrote it, sent it, didn't look twice, peace

nsfwish under the cut

Dream’s jaw almost drops with the immediate response that garners him, not from surprise, but because he feels as if he needs to. 

Hob is hot and huge in his mouth, in his projection, stretching him open and reaching further and further. Hob helping himself to Dream like he’s allowed this– brazen, indecent. Dream swallows again, his amusement veering off course, transforming into something selfish and carnal, something Dream realizes might not work out in his favor.

But he can’t help but tease, just a little. Hoping to catch Hob off-guard and subdue him.

“Something the matter?”

Dream’s voice catches both of them by surprise. It’s low rumble sounding smothered, spoken behind closed lips, or muffled around an over-eager cock, as it were.

Hob looks Dream in the eyes, studying them, perhaps realizing that he’d fallen quiet and was staring at Dream’s lips for a fraction of a second too long, too obvious. Friends don’t look at each other’s lips, don’t stutter over their words, and certainly don’t fantasize– Christ, Dream’s knees hitting the hardwood floor and staring up at Hob, as if in worship, in supplication. 

The utter audacity.

“You seem. Distracted.” Dream is proud of how his words remain steady, even as his knees begin to sting and his mouth throbs.

“Do I?” Hob laughs, a tinge of hysteria rolling off it. He finally forces himself to relax, shaking his head, clearing the illusion. Dream’s entire body slumps forward slightly, like he’d been released from a bond that tied him straight and upright.