Chapter Text
It was the year 2024 now, Hob noticed.
No, he did not really notice. Since he had not forgotten in the first place. His momentary profession made sure he kept track of time, though he could not deny that more than 600 years of living did something to one’s concept of time. He knew that it was March. That there had been a nerve-wracking history exam for the students of a certain college not too far away from the inn he was sitting in right now only three days ago and that they expected their graded papers back by the end of the week. The term was half way through and they were still more or less motivated. He knew all too well. Because, unlike for the most time of the last six centuries, he was currently living a well structured life. He was a teacher – had not been here for too long, so he had still ten to fifteen years until he had to quit that job, maybe fake is own death once again – actually teaching real students about things written in books that often did not correlate with personal experience. But he had adjusted to that. Had been teaching in general for a while now, changing schools and basic looks every now and then since the nineties. Right now he was the cool young teacher with shoulder length hair, tied in a fashionable but simple braid. He did not wear a beard right now because it made him look younger like that. In a few years he would grow one, to give the impression of aging, but now it was still too soon.
He was comfortable right now. The school was close to the inn. The Inn. His inn. The one he bought and built anew with money lost and gathered over time. The money that guaranteed that he could switch identities every few decades. Money that bought him the comfortable flat right above the inn – which actually was not an inn anymore, since it did not rent out any rooms. It was a bar now. Just called ‘The New Inn’ because he had planned to make it easier for Him to find him, if he ever decided to do so. He, that was his Stranger. A man slender, not too tall, always dressed in black, looking so fragile and yet somehow frightening. A man he had seen once every hundred years for five millennia. Who had missed their meeting scheduled for 1989. Hob had been angry back then. At least he wished to believe that. Actually he had rather felt hurt, but had always been too proud to admit that. That he missed his Stranger. And that he probably had fucked things up back in 1889, by calling him a friend.
Well, things had worked out in the end, had they not? With a short delay – what are thirty years for someone who lived for more than 650 winters? – he had finally been able to meet with his Stranger again. With his ‘friend’. The man – probably a man, though they had never spoken about that in detail – had called him his friend and even given him a name! Finally, after 600 years Hob had been able to call his Stranger anything else! ‘Dream’. Probably not his real name – did he even have something like that, since he definitely was not human, he wondered – but he was willing to take what he could get.
What he got was more. More than one meeting everyone hundred years. Dream allowed him to meet him once a year now. Certainly an improvement. So they did. They had met in 2020, in 2021, even though there had been a pandemic going around, in 2022 and in 2023. And they would meet in 2024. In only a few days. They would sit here at this very table, drink wine and talk. About him mostly. Dream was not very talkative at all. With almost heavenly patience he had managed to slip at least a few things from his Stranger’s lips. That he had some kind of kingdom to rule. That he possesses a sassy raven called Mathew – he was quite certain it was sentient and not just some kind of pet – and that he had a very strict librarian where he resided. Lucius or something, as far as he remembered. He had been quite drunk that night!
Well, mostly Hob talked about himself. About his job. He had it for two years now – this one, he had applied for it after spending the previous five years driving two hours to and from work, finding it much more convenient. He had not even needed to get a new identity for this job at all. Robert Getsby had just needed a little correction of his birth date, not completely new papers at all! It had all been so easy!
Compared to the early 2000s it really had been! Back then he had needed to break into several city hall archives to fetch his documents and replace them, before things went digital. In the age of digitalization things had become so pleasantly easy!
A former lover of his had taught him everything he needed to know about hacking and now he could just alter any document needed and claim that he had lost the original in whatever mild tragedy that came to his mind and that he needed a replacement. Definitely five years well spent, he thought. It had not worked out – of course it had not! He was pretty much immortal! Dating never worked out for him for longer than a few years!
They are so young, always so young, he always thought after some time. They never saw the world like he did. Had not seen what he had. So he had enjoyed them while they lasted. A few very good memories, some bad ones. But since things had never gotten as serious as it had once been with Eleonor, he never had too much trouble leaving things behind. Too much heartbreak.
He sighed. Briefly staring at the paper he was supposed to grade. He could not concentrate. His mind kept wandering off everywhere and nowhere. To his past lives, past loves, to the present, to the only constant he had ever had in 600 years.
He should get upstairs. Tuck away the papers for future-Hob – who usually was angry hat past-Hob for playing tricks on him – and relax a little.
Maybe he should give those dating apps another go? He had to admit, he was becoming a little anxious, since his meeting with Him drew closer. Maybe he should just blow off some steam? He had already been thinking about past lovers, so why not indulge in finding a new one? It had been a few years since his last serious relationship – said hacker – and at least two months since the last less serious hookup.
So he finally gathered his things, waved at the barkeeper – a rough but very reliable fellow called Pete – and made his way upstairs, to his flat.
He scrolled past dozens of girls and women. Sighing at every face. No. Not this time. Not today. Or tomorrow. All those sweet faces did not move anything inside him – or around his lower body, if he was being honest, since that was the goal here! – so he switched to a different type of app.
He did not have a certain type. At least he liked to believe that. He had dated and bedded probably thousands of women and men – latter becoming much easier in the last century – of every age, colour, body type and whatever else came to his mind. Never been too picky. And had loved all of them passionately, sometimes just for the night, sometimes longer. But he had to admit from the eighties on there had been a pattern. One he would deny, if he was ever asked, but who would? Who would ask Hob Gadling why he liked to take slender gothic twinks to bed? No one but him knew about this! And no one had to know! That was between him and his fantasy alone! ‘The thoughts are free’, as they say. And if he fantasied or dreamed about bedding a very particular slender gothic twink, that was a secret he made sure to bury in the bin beside his nightstand in the morning! No harm done! Never!
So he narrowed down his matches to fit that pattern which was certainly not a pattern at all! Just a... A thing. Not an important one. Just something to gather himself, before he would meet Him downstairs at the inn. Drink with him and talk. Enjoy every minute until it was over. And then he would lie in his bed and dream of this encounter for the following two weeks at least. Until he forced himself to forget. To get over it. To just meet some women – yes, AFTER he always need the touch of a woman to stop thinking about it – and have fun. Enjoy himself to the fullest.
He narrowed down his search to three men. All slender, black haired, pale and somewhere between twenty and forty. Dressed mostly in black on their profile pictures. Not exactly what he was looking for – not that he was looking for anything at all! – but close enough. One did not match him, so that made it two matches. One did not reply to his message right away, the other one texted him first, while he was still typing.
They exchanged a few hot texts. Skipping the basics, getting straight to business. Damion could not meet him right away, for whatever reason, so they decided on meeting the next day. But that did not stop them from getting ready for their date. As far as Hob could see from a few pictures, Damion was quite eager and definitely ‘up’ for it. So they exchanged some more pics and texted and even a few voice messages, clearing theirs Gos and No-Gos while making unmistakably clear where this conversation was leading.
If that boy – hey, he was twenty-five – would not start ghosting him, he would meet that delicious ass at a hotel directly after school tomorrow! And he could not wait to do that!
As he went to bed, he struggled with himself. That chat had left him all pent up and horny but if he did not jerk off tonight, he could save that load for his date tomorrow. After touching and tucking away his more than half hard prick for several times, he finally decided to wait. To just close his eyes and sleep and let his fantasy wander. Let the sweetest dreams find him. His dreams had always been sweet, when he was honest. He could not remember having any really bad nightmare since the 18th century. He really was blessed... With this though he gave himself over to the land of dreams, unknowingly entering the Dreaming as he did every night.
~ Oh, yes. He had expected that. At least he should have expected it. He knew his own mind quite well after all this time! So of course he would meet his dream-Damion here! At the inn. The old inn. Where people were drinking, dressed up in clothes from long time ago. Since he did not concentrate on that, his mind did not specify which age he dreamt of. He was sitting there with the slender goth boy from his hook-up app. The boy – hey, he could call him whatever he wanted in his dreams! – wore some kind of leather outfit. It showed a lot of skin. Did he see it in one of the pictures or did he dream it up from the scratch?
Dream-Damion looked at him and licked his lips. A little like a cat. Didn’t He resemble a cat somehow? Now that he thought about it... No, no thinking about Him here! He was going to have some fun! Enjoy a little dreamt-up distraction!
“I want to suck your cock”, dream-Damion told him, as he did in the voice message. Voice low and full of lust. And since it was a dream, who was he to deny him what he wanted? Well, he wanted that just as much!
“Right here at the bar?”, he still asked, looking at the boy. He wanted him to want it.
“I want it so bad, Robbie. Please, wherever you want me!”, the black-haired answered – another voice message replaying in Hob’s mind – standing up from his chair, just to kneel right in front of Hob. The table had vanished, since there was no need for it anymore.
“Sounds good, boy... Show me, how eager you are, and maybe I will give you even more...”, the immortal grinned, while slender pale hands unzipped his trousers and shoved them down – in a dream he could wear whatever he liked in whatever century he dreamt up! – fumbling with his underwear, until his cock was out.
“Oh, yes... Oh...”, the boy moaned and slid closer. Then he started to lick across his now exposed gland. That felt good. Very good. So very good!
“Oh yes. Take me into your mouth. I want you to taste me”, Hob whispered. He placed a hand on the boy’s head, grabbing his black hair. Just the right length to grab it. Just like His. Oh, oh fuck, He really should not think about Him now! But it was okay, was it not? It was just a dream. Just a fantasy. No harm would be done...
Hob closed his eyes, as that slippery wet mouth wrapped around his length and sucked him deep inside. Yes, that felt really good! He tightened his grp in the black hair and started guiding his lover back and forth. Gentle. He did not want to force him. That never gave him much. He enjoyed a little rough play from time to time but he always wanted his partners to enjoy it, too. So he was guiding that head back and forth, while trying to keep his hips still.
“So good....”, he whispered. Why hold back? It was his dream. No one would hear him! So he could voice what he felt.
“Ro....wwwie....”, was the answer.
“So... Very... Good...”, he panted. He was getting close. He felt that this would end soon, but... But in the back of his mind he knew something was not quite alright. Not the way it should be. The way he needed it. The way he loved it!
They changed positions in an instant. This was a dream after all. Now Hob was bending him over some random table, shoving his cock in and out a well prepared slick hole. Yes. That was better. Very good. That beautiful pale backside looked also very endearing. Those black strands contrasting the skin in the most beautiful way. He wanted to touch that body. Wanted to feel it under his hands. Would it be warm? Hot even? Or as cold as the pale skin would suggest? He had wondered for centuries. He... Argh, fuck! Who was he kidding? It was definitely not the dream-Damion he was fucking here! Not anymore! He had known, as soon as he had opened his eyes again. Why could one even close their eyes in their sleep? That was absolutely unnecessary!
“Hob!”, that voice breathed. So powerful, that he could hear it even though it was barely more than a whisper. “Hob Gadling”, His voice said. So calm, composed. Just like it did whenever it called for him. Had called for him during the centuries.
But that did it. That absolutely did it for him. Hob was done for. Taking a look at Dreams face, cheek pressed against the wooden table, as he fucked into him again and again and again, finally pushed him over the edge! His whole body shivered, as he came. As he emptied himself deep inside that slender body. Like he had done in so many dreams before. And he knew that in the Waking his pants would be soaked when his consciousness would join his physical body again.
“Oh, fuck, you’re so beautiful...”, he whispered at the man under him. Than he bowed down. He just had to feel him. Had to kiss his skin. Had to shower him in kisses. Now that it did not matter anymore. He had given in to that desire. Again. So he could enjoy the mess he had already created. Savour every warmth. Every second. He would feel guilty in the morning, anyways.
“Hob...”, his Stranger murmured again, as he gently caressed his pale skin. Kissing his neck.
“So very... Beautiful... My beautiful stranger...” And beautiful he was. So very handsome. Had always been. But Hob had only ever noticed after a few centuries. After the Constantine- incident, as he liked to call it. And ever since he had fucked things up a century later, he had had those dreams every now and then. And fuck, He could not deny it. Not here, not now. He would, as soon as he was up again, but right now he could enjoy it. Just a little longer. Keep what he had wanted for so long now. What he should not want. And would never have.
“You should leave your worries to the Waking, Hob Gadling...”, Dream mumbled with a strangely gentle voice. Oh, he loved it. He loved the dreams in which he was like that after they were done. After they had sex. Well, after Hob fucked him every way he could possibly think of – he must have done by now.
“Love you....” Hob planted kiss over kiss on his Stranger’s neck. Still feeling him so very close still enjoying every passing second. Did time even pass in dreams?
“You... Should wake up now...”, the black-haired man whispered. It was not a command. It was so soft, so gentle. Just a suggestion. But he could not refuse. Drifting back to consciousness, as soon as the last syllable had left that small mouth. Oh, how badly he wanted to kiss that mouth! But that was for another dream... ~
Hob Gadling opened his eyes and cursed. After centuries spent on battlefield and on the streets of several big cities his vocabulary was quite colourful. He did not know what exactly made him curse. Was it the fact that he felt betrayed, like something warm and cosy was ripped away from him? Or was it the damp stain in his pants that angered him? Probably a mixture of both... But the conclusion he drew was all the same. He desperately needed that hook-up. Otherwise he would not be able to look his friend in the eyes, when they would meet! He had to get that out of his system!
“Milord? Is everything alright?”, a familiar voice asked. Morpheus stopped his pacing to look at his librarian. At Lucien, who tried her best to not stare at him too obviously.
“Of course I am alright, Lucien. What brings you to any other conclusion?”, he wanted to know.
“Milord, you look exhausted, to be honest. Like on a too hot summer day....” She obviously did not want to mention that he looked all flustered and covered in sweat. But still, she was unable to keep her curiosity and concern in check.
“I have been exploring my realm, Lucien. I can assure you that even the icy mountain tops and the burning volcanos are just doing well. Fiddler’s Green’s return sure had changed the landscape for the better”, he explained. That was not a lie. He had wandered through his realm. Had taken a look on everything. Made sure that everything was still in good condition. He had just been... Distracted. Just a little.
“Have you? Well, that is good to hear, then. Would you like to change, before your appointment with your sister?”, Lucien suggested. She did not let show whether she believed him or not. She had been a professional librarian since forever, so she at least knew about boundaries. Keeping them was a different matter, nowadays. After his long absence she tended to overstep from time to time, but since she always had the best for the Dreaming in mind, he often let it slide. Always promising to himself that he will be stricter the next time.
“Yes. I will do that, before meeting Death...”, he answered, pretending to be just as professional, as he had once ceated her to be.
An undefined amount of time later he entered the Waking. Precisely a park somewhere on earth. In a country he did not put the effort into examining closer. Not caring at all. He took a few steps, to sit down on a bench, looking at the people, without really seeing them. Without caring for what they were doing.
“Deep in thoughts, brother?”, his sister’s gentle voice asked. And only seconds later she sat down next to him.
“Just waiting for my sister, wondering to what I owe the pleasure of this appointment”, he replied.
“No reason in particular. I just heard, that you’re meeting that human more often now”, she said.
“Hob Gadling?”, he asked, hardly able to imagine meeting any other human regularly. Keeping an eye on Rose and Jed Walker from afar every few months hardly counted as ‘regularly’ according to his standards. Also they were practically family.
“That one. How’s he doing?”, she wanted to know pulling a small bag out of nowhere. It resembled the pouch of sand he always carried with him, with the difference that it was filled with bird seeds, she now started feeding the pigeons with.
“Fine, as far as I know. Still alive. He is a teacher at the moment. He was, the last time...”, Dream told her. Not knowing exactly why he told her that much. But she was his beloved sister after all. The one he was closest with.
“You will meet him again, soon?” That was not a question. Just a statement of fact that happened to have a question mark at the end.
“I will. He suggested on annual meetings for the time being”, he explained.
“And you agreed?”
“Time flies. But for now I have nothing else to keep myself busy with. The Dreaming is healthy and it has been quiet for a while...”
“True. So you engage in Hob for the time being?”, she asked raising an eyebrow at him.
“’Engage in’?”, he repeated.
“Engage in spending time with him. It’s interesting, you know? You’ve never been interested in humans much… At least not here in the waking world…”, she smiled her gentle smile. The pigeons at their feet started fighting over the seeds.
“You were the one who told me, I should. You know that I usually find humans not interesting at all. They are… They visit the dreaming for a few years and then you will take them away. There is hardly enough time, to find them interesting at all…”
“So you do find Hob interesting?”, she wanted to know. No, actually she already knew. She just wanted to confirm. That was a whole different matter.
“I never expected his will to continue living to be that strong, my sister. He is… He is making the best of it, I think”, he admitted.
“After more than 600 years he doesn’t really count as mortal, does he?”, Death asked a little too innocent to be authentic. And he knew his sister well enough that innocent questions were not what she just asked.
“You gave him that gift, so you tell me. Is he a mortal?”, he replied.
“I would say….. He is not. Not any more. He has seen too much, for a regular mortal. And he didn’t snap, did he?”
“He seems sane. But insanity is not my realm. I am not an expert…”
“Neither am I. But I don’t think, Delirium would care to explain… Have you heard from her?”, she wanted to know.
“Has been centuries… She might still be frightened in my presence…”, Dream admitted, focussing on the birds ruffling their feathers while trying to shove away the others to fetch more seeds.
“Hm. Maybe I should go and ask Hattie? She’s an expert on madness. Didn’t take her 250 years too well… Compared to your Hob.”
“My Hob?” Dream raised an eyebrow. His midnight dark eyes shifting from the pigeons to his sister.
“Yours. My present to you. Seemed to have worked well. You like passing time with him”, she smiled.
“Do you want me to say ‘thank you’?”, he asked.
“You’re not one to thank others. But if you want to change your attitude, try being gentler to him”, she advised.
“Gentler?”
“How long did it take you to call that human your friend?”
“Long…”
“How much longer will it take you to acknowledge…?”, she started.
“Sister!”, he interrupted her. She looked at him, as if she did not plan for him to do exactly that. “He still is a mere human, immortal or not”, he explained with patience.
“He is not your equal, I know. But neither were they. Calliope is just a Muse. Nada also never was one of us. It is not the first time you have been close with anyone…”
“I am not ‘close’ with him. I meet him once a year and he tells me about his human life…”
“That’s closer than you are with most of your siblings, brother…”, she reminded him.
“Can not be helped. I am a busy being…”
“So am I. Humans keep me quite busy, but still I manage to pop by every now and then… Oh, by the way: Desire told me, you should contact them. They miss you.”
“I will not. But thank you for telling me…”
“You want to leave?”, Death asked the obvious.
“I see no point in lingering in the Waking…”,
“Guessed so. Enjoy your date, brother dear”, she smiled.
“Appointment”, he corrected, before vanishing in a gust of sand.
He had absolutely no idea how he had survived his day at school. But he had been there on time, had told twenty-five bored students about the French Revolution twice, without even looking anything up and then he had gone to that hotel. Had met that guy. Damion. And he had spent a few lovely and quite exhausting hours with him. In real life Damion had been smaller that he had imagined. Not as pale. His hair had been more curly and definitely dyed. He had been slender, but almost to thin. And his voice had been a touch too high. A touch too desperate.
He would not meet him again. He had known the moment he had walked through the door. It had been just an itch to scratch. Just some meaningless meeting. Just a one time thing. The more comfortable version of a hastened meeting in dark alleys.
Yes, he felt a little better now. He felt relived, less tensed up, but that was it. He had originally planned on staying the night. But had decided against it after their second orgasm. Which was the reason why he was standing in front of the Inn’s back door, fumbling with his keys. It was dark and he could not see a thing. Did not want to take out his phone for additional light. He had once been used to complete darkness, he could deal with the night! He was fine!
“Fuck!”, he mumbled, as he dropped his keys. And another “fuck!” as he bend down to fetch them in the darkness and touched something wet. Not what he had expected from the night, but he had had it worse. At least the risk to get robbed in dark alleyways was significantly lower nowadays.
Finally he managed to unlock the door, walk upstairs into his private flat and wash his hands. Then he took another shower. He had showered at the hotel room but he felt like doing it again. He was not dirty. He did not feel dirty. He had been dirty in the past. For so long. Going weeks and moths without basic hygiene that was standard today. But still he felt the urge to wash that day off. Wash Damion off.
And then he just fell into bed. He was exhausted. Did not know why exactly since he did not remember most of the details of the day. He closed his eyes, not bothering to put any clothes on and drifted into sleep.
~ Or maybe not? Maybe he was not sleeping at all, he thought. Since he was lying in his bed. In his modern bedroom, decorated with a little too many antiquities he had kept from his several lives. The only difference to his real bedroom was the light. Or the fact that he could see everything even without any lights on, to be more precise. That was how he knew he was dreaming. He always knew when he did. For centuries now. Figured it out at some point and had just done ever since. He was not a lucid dreamer, not exactly. At least he had never really tried to alter the dream’s reality. Not consciously. He had always just enjoyed watching it. Seeing the dream happen to him, figure what is subconsciousness was trying to tell him. Which had sometimes been very enjoyable, sometimes he had regretted it even as it had happened. Even though it has only been a dream.
“Hob Gadling?”, an all too familiar voice mumbled and he turned his head. Looked at what he had already expected to see. Next to him, half hidden under the bedsheets sat his Stranger, looking at him with dark eyes. When he looked into them for longer, Hob had the feeling he could see galaxies, probably the whole universe in them.
“You’re here...”, he smiled and fully turned to him. He was still naked, while his Stranger wore a black silk pyjama. He was looking comfortable. And as otherworldly as ever.
“You want me to be here, Hob Gadling...”, the man – man-shaped being? – reminded him.
“I do”, he simply confirmed. Since that was the truth. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, it was exactly that. He wanted that man, Dream, to be here. To be with him. He wanted him by his side, in his arms, in his bed. He desired him. He... Well, who was he kidding? He loved that man. Had done for so long. He was really truly fucked. If that Stranger ever found out, would he disappear again? Forever, this time? He had overstepped 150 years ago, calling him his friend, how would that fragile, yet headstrong being react to a confession like that?!
“So? Do you want to have sex with me, Hob Gadling?”, his Stranger asked, tilting his head slightly. Looking straight into Hob’s eyes.
“I...” Even though it was a dream, he had no idea, what to reply. He had always known that this man was straight forward, but he had not expected his subconsciousness to make up a conversation like that!
“I am all yours tonight...”, the ebony haired man told him, matter of factly.
“I... I know. Here you always are...”, Hob confirmed.
“Do you want me to... Kiss you?”
“I’d love that. Can I... Can I touch you?”, he asked. Yes, this was his dream. The realm, where he made the rules, where he decided, what he wanted to do! There was no real need, no good reason to ask for consent. But it felt right. Like something he wanted to. He needed to. Because even here in his dream he was afraid, his Stranger would just leave. Vanish under his hands. Rinse through his fingers like sand. So he did his best. At least in these kinds of dreams.
There were other, more lust ridden ones, where he just chased his pleasure, just felt, touched, indulged, but he did not dream such a dream at the moment. This was one of the gentler ones, he knew. One of those dreams, where he held him close, caressed him, loved him, just to feel almost more guilty in the morning than he did, after using him in the other kinds of dreams. He was hopeless...
“This is your dream, Hob Gadling. You can do, what you like. There are no boundaries in the Dreaming”, his Stranger told him. Waiting.
“I want to hold you, Dream”, he whispered leaning towards him. Carefully embracing him. He did not want to break him. Break the illusion. He was scared he would. Did not want to wake up any time soon.
“However you want me, Hob”, the man told him and a hint of a smile lingered on his lips.
Hob pulled him closer. Lay down on his back and pulled him half over his body, so Dream was lying on his chest, one leg between his, still wearing those strange black pyjamas.
“You are so light... Do you even eat?”, he mused, while stroking his back through the fabric, gently scratching it with his fingernails. He did not want to hurt him. Dream seemed oh so fragile. So light. Even in his dream he could not picture him human.
“I do not need to eat...”, the non-human informed him.
“Hm. Guessed so. But you should. At least every now and then. Enjoy things...”, Hob suggested.
“I am enjoying this...”
“So am I... Can I…?”, he asked, suddenly feeling a little shy.
“Can you?”
“I want to kiss you...”
“This is your dream, Hob Gadling. Do, what you like...”, his Stranger reminded him. And moved a little, so his face was right in front of his. The slender, pale fingers held his naked shoulders, as he looked him in the eyes.
“I want to be good to you. Gentle. Want to treasure you...”, he admitted and leaned in. Touched the thin, pale lips with his. They were warm. Dream was warm. He did not look like a human at all, but he felt warm. At least Hob’s subconsciousness made him appear warm to him right now.
“So treasure me...”, Dream whispered against his lips. Then he returned the gesture. Pressed their mouths together. Not greedy, wanton, desperately, as Hob had done in so many other dreams. No, this was one of the gentle ones. He did not feel any rush. Was not driven by desire, by lust. He just wanted to feel him. Enjoy him. As long as this illusion lasted.
After a while of just lying there, just feeling his warmth, Hob began to open his mouth. Just slightly. And his Stranger answered to this subtle gesture. They kissed and kissed and kissed, while he did his best to keep breathing. Lifting Dream easily up and down with every breath. Even in a dream you would not just abandon habits.
While kissing him, he continued to touch his back with both hands, exploring the muscles under the thin fabric.
“I want to undress you…”, he whispered against those soft lips, stealing a few more kisses.
“I…”, Dream answered. Slowly. Pulling away just slightly. Looking at him. “I would like to….”
“Yes? Whatever you like, duck”, Hob smiled lifting a hand to place it on his friends cheek. Caress him gently.
“I do not like being completely uncovered…”, the black-haired told him. And it was okay. It was his dream, but he wanted him to be happy. He wanted to make him comfortable. So of course his dream-Dream would have wishes, needs. And of course he should voice them! Of course he would comply! Whatever his Stranger wanted!
“Of course, love. Whatever you feel comfortable with…”, he smiled stroking his thumb over the soft skin. Fair, as porcelain, but so soft and warm. Not at all like a doll. “Can I touch you under the fabric?”
Dream nodded and he brought his face back close. Kissing him again. Oh so gentle. So soft. Tender. It felt so intimate. Like they actually were lovers. Like this was not just a dream. Like what he once had with someone he loved dearly. But also a little different. Not at all like his love with Eleonor. Just.. similar.
Dream was soft. Warm. But not like his deceased wife. He was slender, but undeniably man-shaped – not just man-shaped as in human-shaped. He was even lighter than she had once been. He was… He had always been beautiful. In a different way. Fuck, it was so unfair to compare them! Who was he, to dare?
“You are… So very beautiful… My Dream..”, he whispered apologetically between kisses. Slid his hands carefully under the silken fabric to touch his back directly. And he felt him shiver under his touch. “This alright?”, he wanted to know.
Dream nodded again. Kissing him again.
“So. Very. Beauti. Ful…”
He caressed him. Felt him. Enjoyed him. Every second. He loved it. So very much. He did not want to wake up. To ever leave this dreamt-up bed. Wanted to stay with him. Just like that.
Carefully he opened his mouth a little more. Let the tip of his tongue slide out. Licked over Dream’s lower lip. Daring. But his friend did not pull away, instead he opened his mouth invitingly.
Slowly Hob started kissing him. Exploring his mouth carefully. He had dreamt of doing this thousands of times already, yet it always felt new. Exciting. but still he was afraid, he might scare him away. Did not want him to leave, to just vanish. He wanted to treasure every dreamt-up second with his Stranger. Even though he knew all to well that he would miss it so much in the morning. That he would regret it. The loss.
But until then he would savour this. He would not let him go – unless Dream wanted to, of course! He wanted them both to enjoy it. Well, as far as a dreamt-up being could enjoy it.
“My love…”, he whispered into his mouth. Pressed him closer. And then he felt a sudden pull, an unpleasant sound echoing in the back of his mind. He tried to fight it, to hold fast, cling to it. Onto his Stranger. But it was pointless. ~
He had seriously considered calling in sick in the morning. Even still considered it on his ride to school, but in the end he showed up. And deeply regretted having chosen a unit about the historical figure Shakespeare this trimester. Why had he done that? He hated that man! Had, ever since his Stranger had paid him attention, all these centuries ago. Why had he chosen to torture himself like that?
“When will we get those back?”, a student asked him, after he was finally, finally done for the day. They were alone in his classroom now.
“What?”, he replied, snapping out of his thoughts.
“The papers. You collected those ages ago, sir”, the girl complained.
“Last week, Angela. As far as I remember I collected those group project papers last week. And you will get them back by next week. Like I told you…”, he sighed. It was always the same. He had no idea what papers that were, but he knew how his lessons worked, that narrowed things down.
“Awww, that is still so long, Sir…”, she complained. Sitting down on his desk, looking at him expectantly. “And?”
“And?”, he repeated. Attention flickering towards her. He had been a warrior once, there were things you never unlearn.
“And did I pass?”, she wanted to know, batting her eyelids. Crossing her legs, so that he could see more of her thigh, than was strictly necessary.
“I can tell you next week, Angela”, he sighed.
“But… Is there probably anything I could do to improve my grade?”, she asked again, flashing her most seductive smile – at least he assumed that. Seemed pretty seductive. Under different circumstances he might have even found it appealing. He was by far not a moral person. Had never been! He had done a lot of bad things in the past. Made many bad decisions. Even in the past few weeks. And usually he was not one to turn down an offer like that. It was an offer, was it not? Definitely was.
At his former schools he had indulged in those kinds of agreements every now and then, so it was definitely not his high moral standards keeping him form making a move. It must be his mood. The approaching meeting. His Stranger, that kept him from jumping on her – hey, she was good looking, knew what she was selling there – but he really did not feel like doing it. Not even slightly aroused!
“Have you tried studying?”, he deadpanned. With a straight face of course. After all, he had been a swindler for centuries.
“Oh, Mr. Getsby, there are other things we could do, yes?”, she tried again. Placing a hand on her thigh, so her skirt slid up even farther. Now he could almost see her underwear – hoped, she was wearing them.
“Like listening during classes?”, he suggested, while totally ignoring her. Then he stood up, gathered his things and left the classroom. Definitely not his style, but he had other things on his mind. The dream, and Dream. And pretty much every emotion he tried to suppress, whole meeting with him.
Morpheus, Lord of the Dreaming, was sitting on his throne, deeply engrossed into a book. That was not a common sight, although not completely unusual. Every now and then he picked a book from the library and flipped through it, but usually he just preferred to witness the dreams of the dreaming in person. So him sitting there for hours, passing time with the written word of dreams was rare. Especially being so deep into reading them.
“Wonder, what you’re reading, boss...”, a familiar voice said. Wings flapped and a black bird, a raven, sat down on the headrest of the big, massive throne.
“Mathew. I do wonder, what you might be doing here…”, Dream mumbled without looking up. Had not even heard him approaching, if he was honest.
“Oh, I am here to report from the Waking. Some news about the humans”, Mathew crowed, ruffling his feathers.
“Yes, I remember sending you to the Waking to keep an eye on Rose… So what do you have to report?”
“Oh, Rose is doing well! They have a dog now! And Jed got a good grade in school! He really likes school! Loves his teachers! Oh, and the teacher human is also doing great, boss”, the raven explained proudly. He did not have much to tell, but he made the best of it. He could sell this!
“The teacher human?”, the man-shaped being repeated, turning a page. Obviously only half listening. There was a better story than Mathew’s.
“Yes. The one you meet. He’s interesting actually! Was meeting with a sexy human student girl”, Mathew told him. “A really hot chick! You know?”
“So you have been spying on humans again?”, he asked the bird, only paying half attention.
“Not spying! Just checking. I mean… There was a reason of course! Was not just a hot woman taking a shower! Really! Haven’t done that in ages! Was really just checking on him because you’ll meet him! Seemed important, to check, you see”, the raven explained defensively, flapping his wings a bit.
“You have been spying on Hob Gadling?”, Dream wanted to know, finally looking up from his book, after counting two and two together. Now the raven had his full and undivided attention.
“No, boss! I was just… Just curious! Not spying at all! But, you know? He sure is a lucky bastard” if ravens had been able to grin, Mathew surely would do that.
“Is he...?”
“Oh yes! Been investigating for a few days now and I must say, if I was still human, I would really be jealous…”
“Would you?”, Morpheus asked, finally closing the book. His emissary watched him.
“Yes! I mean, he’s immortal, boss. Lucien told me! Imagine what one could do with this! An amazing skill, and yet he’s so ordinary!”
“Mathew, I am one of the Endless. Do you really think, I would need the imagination?”
“No, of course not! Sorry, boss!”
“I will take my leave now, Mathew”, Dream sighed. “this conversation did not seem to lead anywhere. “Maybe you should stay in the Dreaming for a while? And not spy on my humans…”, he told him. It was not a suggestion, it was clearly an order.
Mathew crowed, as his master stood up, placed the book on the throne – Lucien would take care of that – and left. Vanished in a gust of sand. Ignoring his slip of tongue. Maybe the raven had not noticed.
The black bird took a look at the cover, flapping his wings to jump on the armrest. Examining it closer.