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Hob’s stranger wasn’t one to smile much, or at all, but as he sat down opposite him, the most beautiful smile lit up his face and Hob felt his stomach doing backflips.
In that moment he forgot any trace of resentment, and beamed at the fact he was right to have remained hopeful all these years. The test papers he was grading were instantly forgotten.
“So,” Hob leaned forward with a grin. “I’ve got so much to catch you up on, stranger.”
“I expect you do,” his stranger also leaned towards him. ”But as my friend, you may call me Dream. Or Morpheus. I have many names.”
“I do apologise for 1889,” Hob said, his smile never stopping. “Although it is nice to know your name now. So are you sure you’re not a God?”
”I’m no God, but I am the King of Dreams in my realm, the Dreaming,” Dream explained, and somehow the intense eye contact he was giving was beginning to make Hob nervous. ”And I should be the one to apologise. I was too proud to accept it when you told me the truth. Missing our last meeting was not a choice of my own, but due to forces beyond my control.”
“King of Dreams,” Hob pondered, taking a sip from the glass beside him. “So you see people’s dreams? I hope you haven’t seen mine, some of them are bloody embarrassing-”
”Hob,” Dream’s hand was on the table, mere inches away from Hob’s. ”I am responsible for the dreams of everyone. Although I do try not to pry in the ones of those who I am close to.”
“You close to many other humans then?”
Dream chuckled. ”No, I wouldn’t say so. At least very few. You were right in what you said to me last century, Hob.”
Hob was struggling to hide his blush at how much his stranger, now Dream, was revealing about himself this time. His hand subconsciously inched closer, they were almost touching. Hob wasn’t sure if they’d ever even touched before, or if they had he didn’t remember it. Dream didn’t seem like a touchy person, or entity, or whatever he was.
“I’m happy you consider me your friend too. I never meant any harm by what I said, I’m just very good at reading people, I have a lot of experience,” Hob laughed, trying to ignore the fact their hands were so close to touching on the table now, and Dream didn’t seem to be bothered by it. “What you said a moment ago, about missing our last meeting? Want to elaborate on that?”
Dream immediately tensed up, and Hob’s stomach dropped. Was he going to make the same mistake as before, prying too much and scaring his now friend away?
Instead of getting up and leaving, Dream readjusted himself in his seat. His hand on the table tensed, then gradually moved forward, and almost made Hob keel over in shock when he hooked their fingers together. Ever so gently, just the tips, barely resting over Hob’s, but it was so unexpected that Hob relished in it. Tried to hide his flaming cheeks like a blushing teenager.
”I was imprisoned,” Dream revealed, his voice more of a whisper than usual. He was avoiding eye contact. ”I had every intention of seeing you, my imprisonment made me realise you were right. I had acted selfishly, egotistically, and I had to make things right.”
“Shit, Dream,” Hob was bold and twisted their hands so their fingers intertwined, giving his hand a brief squeeze of comfort. “You don’t have to talk about it, I can get to telling you about my life if you’d prefer.”
”Recently, I’m trying to improve myself,” Dream made eye contact with him again. ”It has come to my attention that I have made many mistakes in the past, and I wish to not make them again. My sister insists I should,” Dream looked away again anxiously, ”be more open about my feelings.”
“Always happy to be the therapist to the King of Dreams,” Hob smirked, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb in little circles on Dream’s hand. “I’ll come back to the fact you have a sister later. You can tell me about this imprisonment if you feel up to it, what are friends for?”
The corner of Dream’s lips twitched up in an appreciative, almost sad smile. He, slightly reluctantly, began to explain the whole Burgess ordeal. Hob was mortified, his grip tightening on Dream’s hand protectively. By the end he was ready to throw hands if the guy wasn’t dead already.
“You could’ve asked me-”
”Hob,” Dream gave another sad smile, ”I was too proud to ask for help from my own siblings. You couldn’t have done anything.”
Hob sighed and shook his head. “You know I would’ve been there. I would’ve killed the bastard myself. If anything like this happens again, you will ask me, right?”
”I will try to make the effort in future,” Dream said. ”My pride is not always beneficial.”
“It certainly isn’t,” Hob took another long sip from his glass. Almost all the staff at the pub were going to have a field day when they next saw him. He was openly bi to them, and had been holding hands with another ‘man’ (he didn’t actually know if Dream was a man, but he was visually to everyone else) over the table for the last half an hour. They were going to think he was on a date.
In a way, he wished it was.
If Dream had seen some of the dreams he’d had in the past, then he would undoubtedly know Hob’s wish.
”I apologise,” Dream drew his hand away, placing them both on his lap, and Hob tried desperately to hide his disappointment. ”I have not allowed you to speak of your life this century. I would love to know everything.”
“Don’t worry, my friend,” Hob leant back against his seat. “I do in fact want to hear about your life too. Friendship works both ways. But, since you asked so nicely, and I do have a lot to catch you up on-”
Hob began recounting his life over the last century, the development of technology, the world wars, the people he’d met, and now his job as a history professor at a nearby university. Who knew it’d take 600 years to find your true passion? Getting paid to point out all the inaccuracies in history books from his lived experience, and also slag off Shakespeare as much as he wanted? No particular reason for that though.
“So much has changed so quickly,” Hob grinned. “It’s incredible! I’ve discovered so much about myself these last few decades, life is a fucking rollercoaster and I love it!”
Dream couldn’t help but smile again. ”I never tire of your lust for life, my friend.”
“It’s not all perfect, there have been some moments-” Hob scratched his cheek. “But the only way to go is up, right?”
”You are truly fascinating,” Dream was giving that intense eye contact again and Hob was going to kiss him if he kept this up. Their hands were closing in on each other on the table once again, and Hob really did feel like he was on a first date.
“Keep looking at me like that and I’m gonna get the wrong idea,” sometimes Hob did lose control of his mouth when he was nervous, and this was one of those times. He didn’t dare look at Dream’s face after he’d said that, but almost sighed with relief when their hands were joined once more, and Dream had initiated it.
”And what might that be?” Fuck, the look Dream was giving him had doubled in intensity. Hob didn’t want to get his hopes up, but Dream did seem like he was flirting back. There was no way, surely?
Just as he was about to open his mouth, they were rudely interrupted by a waitress. “Can I get you gentlemen anything?”
Hob swallowed his words, trying to stay calm because of course it wasn’t her fault she’d chosen this particular moment to interrupt them.
“Thanks for the offer love, but we were just about to head out,” Hob smiled politely, hoping it wouldn’t throw Dream off guard. Dream frowned across the table in confusion.
“I’ll see you soon then, mate. Text me updates later, yeah?”
“Updates?” Hob whispered, mostly to himself. Ah. He was still holding Dream’s hand, so of course she must’ve jumped to conclusions. His friends always teased him about stuff like this.
She looked pointedly towards Dream, winked, and walked back to the bar. Hob gathered himself, stood up, and reluctantly let go of Dream’s hand.
“Thought we could go for a little walk, if you’re up to it?”
”Of course,” Dream followed him out the door, and Hob tried to ignore the staff gossiping among themselves behind the bar. He was going to get so many questions.
The wind and fresh (as fresh as it could be in London) air hit him, and Hob almost instantly felt at ease again. Dream walked beside him as they crossed the road onto the common opposite the inn, his long coat billowing behind him.
”The waitress,” Dream said, and Hob turned to him. ”Is she your- are you- I am not quite sure what humans call it these days.”
Hob burst into laughter. “Is she my girlfriend? No, Dream, she isn’t. Right now, I’m unattached. Single.”
Dream was seeming to be avoiding eye contact again. ”Okay.”
Hob chuckled to himself and shook his head, hand itching to be back in Dream’s. He really hoped Dream wasn’t the type of entity that could hear his thoughts.
“What about you, King of Dreams? Ever had a special someone?”
Dream’s gaze turned to the ground, and he was silent for a moment, and for that moment Hob was worried he’d overstepped again.
“Don’t worry friend, you don’t have to-”
”I have,” Dream murmured. ”A long time ago. It never seems to end well for me, or them.”
Hob seemed to be in a bold mood today because subconsciously his hand was holding Dream’s again, and he was squeezing reassuringly. Dream didn’t pull away.
“I’ve lived a long life,” Hob started. “Maybe not as long as you, but with an attitude like that, you’re never going to find happiness.”
”Perhaps I am undeserving of it,” Dream admitted shyly, still avoiding eye contact. ”My purpose is to rule the Dreaming, and that hasn’t allowed me the luxury of… companionship.”
Hob sighed, twisting their fingers together tightly. “You and I know that’s not true. I’ve witnessed many lovers die, or leave me. Sometimes I’ve messed it up myself, but if I gave up completely, I’d be doomed to loneliness and depression. There’s always someone else out there who will love you.”
Dream finally looked at him. ”I find your outlook very comforting, Hob Gadling.”
“I’m glad to be of service,” Hob grinned, taking a seat on a nearby bench while Dream followed. They sat peacefully together, gazing at the grey London skies, hands still clasped together.
”I am not easy to love,” Dream said wistfully. ”It is better for everyone if I am alone.”
Hob huffed loudly, shaking his head. “Now, now, none of that. You have people who love you, I’m sure of it. What about your siblings? Me?”
”It is hard to say, with most of my siblings,” Dream said. ”I would say I am closest with my sister, Death.”
“Wow, okay,” Hob ran a hand over his face. “I guess your sister is who I have to thank for my long life?”
”Indeed.”
“We’ll get back to that,” Hob chuckled to himself. “You can introduce me to the family another time.”
”My family isn’t very functional,” Dream said. ”I am not sure you would get along with them.”
“I can get along with anyone, me,” Hob said. Dream gave a small smile, and they sat in comfortable silence, observing the passers by and enjoying each others’ company.
Hob didn’t realise he’d been staring at Dream, those sharp cheekbones and that gorgeous, ethereal face, until his friend noticed and locked their eyes. Hob swallowed hard, chewing his lip nervously as he swore he saw stars in his friend’s pupils. They were so close, almost pressed entirely against each other, a few more inches and they’d be kissing. If only Dream knew how much Hob longed for him, wished to share their life together, show this entity there’s so much joy in life and that he does in fact deserve love.
”Hob,” Dream whispered softly, and their foreheads were touching. They were sharing breath at this point.
“Yeah?”
”I have previously been informed by some of my subjects that you have experienced dreams involving me in the past.”
Shit.
“Yeah, maybe I have, everyone has dreams about their friends, right?”
That would be more believable if they weren’t practically on each others’ laps with their hands together and inches away between their lips.
”It has never been wise, for anyone, to feel that way towards me,” Dream’s eyes were downcast, and he looked sad again.
Hob chuckled nervously, he really had seen those dreams. He was so fucked.
“You should never give up on being happy,” he replied, fingers caressing Dream’s own. “Don’t let your past define you, sweetheart.”
That had slipped out.
Their noses were touching, and Hob could feel his heart beating out of his chest.
”I will not let myself hurt you, Robert Gadling.”
Hob shook his head slowly. “You left me hanging for over a hundred years, and I never gave up on you. You couldn’t hurt me if you tried. I’m a very determined man.”
”The last human I allowed myself to feel for ended up imprisoned in hell,” Dream seemed almost reluctant, like he was fighting something in himself. ”You should find yourself someone better than me.”
Hob chuckled again. “But what if you’re what I want?”
Dream finally met his eyes. ”Then you have made a very bad decision.”
“I think I can be the judge of my own decisions,” Hob was so fucking close to kissing him. “And I choose you.”
The next thing he knew, a pair of soft lips were pressed to his, and his spare hand was cradling Dream’s face. His heart was exploding, their lips slid together so gently and affectionately. He took his time kissing Dream, holding him as though he would break, not worrying who would see. It was like no one else existed at that moment except them.
When they broke apart, they shared each other’s breath, still completely pressed together. Hob traced his fingertips over Dream’s cheekbone, pressing a small kiss to the tip of his nose. He’d never seen Dream smile so sweetly before that moment.
Dream’s eyes almost looked full of tears.
Just as Hob was about to speak, they were rudely interrupted by a loud caw.
Dream seemed to recognise it as he almost leapt out of Hob’s lap, straightening himself up and burning with embarrassment while glaring at the black raven that sat on an above tree branch.
”Matthew. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Who’s Matthew?” Hob frowned.
“I’m Matthew,” the bird fucking spoke, and almost nothing could surprise Hob at this point. “Boss, I didn’t wanna interrupt anything, but Lucienne insisted I bring you back to the Dreaming. It’s urgent.”
Dream sighed, almost looking disappointed. ”Of course. I’ll be on my way immediately.”
“Sorry again, Boss, I’ll leave you guys to it,” Matthew ruffled his feathers uncomfortably. “But do, uh, make it quick.”
The raven flew away and Dream frowned, standing from his place on the bench.
”I do apologise, Hob. But I must take my leave,” Dream looked like he wanted to do anything but leave. Hob stood to face him, a sad smile tugging at his lips.
“I figured you’d have to leave,” he brushed a hand through his hair. “Another hundred years, then?”
Dream blinked several times, struggling to believe what he’d just heard. Hob was preparing himself for the inevitable disappointment.
”I will see you again much sooner,” Dream took Hob’s hand in his. ”I do not think I could bear to wait so long, this time.”
Hob sighed with relief. “You don’t understand how happy that makes me to hear, my love.”
Dream smiled, bringing Hob’s hand up to kiss it softly. The next moment, he was gone in a swirl of sand, and Hob was left alone in the middle of the common, dazed and in love.
When he walked home that evening, he was beaming the entire time. He did realise how incredibly out of place it was to look so happy in London, but he didn’t seem to care. It shouldn’t be long before he saw Dream again, and he wouldn’t have to wait another hundred years. He didn’t only have him as a friend, but it seemed as though he felt the same way. Hob was bursting with joy.
-
The next time Hob saw Dream, was only in a matter of days. He was quite peacefully strolling through a meadow, so stunning and bright and full of life, only to have Dream materialise next to him and inform him he was in the Dreaming, his realm.
Fiddler’s Green was certainly not paid enough for this.
He had been suspicious when his boss had plucked a human out of the Dreaming and placed him in his meadow, then quickly began to realise why he’d chosen this specific human.
Sure, Fiddler’s Green was unbelievably happy for his boss, that he’d found someone to love, but did this really have to happen right in front of him? Under his trees, in front of his ponds?
The pair seemed to be inseparable, laughing amongst themselves and practically cuddling against the trunk of one of his trees. His boss was explaining the Dreaming to his friend, who was staring at him in awe. They kept staring longingly at each other and kissing and whispering, and Fiddler’s Green tried his best to ignore this sickening behaviour, but found himself struggling to.
Was his boss even aware of what he was forcing him to witness?
”Hob Gadling,” Dream was whispering, his voice full of affection. ”You are truly the most exquisite being I have ever laid eyes upon.”
That was certainly enough to earn him a leaf to the face. If his boss even thought about doing anything worse in his meadows, Fiddler’s Green planned to run away and never come back. There were some things he would never be able to unsee.