Work Text:
clank clank clank
"You'll see, you'll bloody love this. It's something I picked up in New York, when I was still travelling. Been tweaking the recipe for the past eighty years. People'd kill for this, I'm telling ya."
"...People would murder for poached eggs?"
"They absolutely would, if they ever tried mine."
thunk
"Ah, bollocks! Fuck, that's the second one that's spillt!"
slosh slosh
A sigh. "Well. Guess I'll be making something else later. Maybe a cake or something."
"Can you not use the eggs that you have cracked already?"
"Nah, not those two. The yolk's supposed to be intact, Dream. Can't make it proper otherwise-"
snap
"..."
"You were saying?"
"You know, sometimes I forget you can do magic."
A huff. "I am not some sort of magician that performs cheap, predictable tricks for the-"
"Alright, alright, you're the almighty Lord of Dream and Nightmare, uncontainable and infallible, omnipresent and all-knowing, I know, I know."
Morpheus bristled from where he was sitting at the table. It'd look a hell of a lot more intimidating if he wasn't wearing a black fluffy night robe and holding a horribly colored mug Hob had bought as a joke a couple of years back. It was lime green and had "By golly, do I love England!" written on it in a British flag colored font. It physically hurt to look at.
Dream blew softly at his still steaming tea, keeping his eyes trained on Hob the whole time in what was probably an attempt to be passive-aggressive. He took a sip and said: "I still fail to make sense of... all of this."
"I told you, Dream," Hob sighed as the water started to bubble in the background. He set down the ham-covered pieces of toast on two plates and carefully took the bowl with the whole-again eggs, carrying it over to the pot. He began to carefully lower them into the water, one by one, and subconsciously stuck his tongue out as he did; this was the trickiest part, and even after eighty years, he still managed to regularly mess it up. Still focused on the eggs, he continued: "Today is a very special day."
Morpheus looked at the calendar on the wall suspiciously. "September twenty-fifth?"
"Yup."
"May I ask why?"
The eggs were now floating in the bubbling water and Hob hovered over them with intent eyes - just as well, because he didn't think he could look at Dream without laughing at that moment. "Lemme finish this up, and I'll tell you then."
The dream lord huffed, but didn't pry. Hob had an inkling that Dream looked upon his cooking in the same way most people might look upon dark magic - even though he liked to watch him from the other end of the kitchen, he never interrupted him, and even more rarely tried to actually redirect his partner's attention elsewhere. It was amusing, if nothing else.
The already finished hollandaise sauce turned itself off with a beep from the electric stove. Bloody brilliant, those, by the way - he couldn't get enough of them. Lord knows that he would have started his budding career as a part-time chef a hell of a lot earlier if they had been around.
Hob absent-mindedly poked one of the eggs, and found the yolk had already turned a soft pink. "Perfect," he said under his breath, satisfied, digging through his drawer to pull out a hole-covered ladle. He dipped it inside, carefully scooping out the eggs one by one and gently laying them on top of the ham-covered toat pieces. In the corner of his eye, he caught Dream looking at the dish in a morbidly curious manner, and he snorted. "Don't worry, you'll like 'em."
Morpheus made a small 'hmph' sound. Well. Hob had all the time in the world to convince him.
Once all the eggs had been set upon their respective bread pieces, Hob finally set down the ladle and instead picked up a spoon and the small pot of hollandaise sauce. "You're not allergic to anything, right?"
"I am beyond such mortal weaknesses, Hob Gadling."
"I'll take that as no," the man muttered as he poured the sauce over each piece of toast. It was a bit runny, but it'd probably taste just as good as any other.
"You still haven't told me what the occasion is," Morpheus said, questioningly, as Hob finally deposited the eggs benedict in front of him.
Hob just smiled as he sat down behind his tiny apartment table, setting his own plate down. "Well," he said, already taking a first bite from the toast - fuck, he hadn't realized how hungry he was until that very moment, but he supposed that after everything that happened last night, he had all the right to be. "Well, it's... silly, I guess."
Morpheus didn't touch his eggs benedict, instead staring at his partner with increasing suspicion: "Hob, what is today."
"You really wanna know? I was gonna make it a surprise-"
" Hob ."
A pause during which Hob contemplated just how much he valued his existence in not-the-nightmare realm.
Enough, he supposed.
Okay, he was spilling.
"...It's the world day of dreams," he said, trying to sound as unbothered as possible.
Not gonna lie, it was kind of adorable to watch Dream's face drop from guarded to completely shocked.
"What?"
"Yup," Hob said through a mouthful of egg.
"And you..."
"Well, you don't really have a birthday, and I know you don't like cake that much, so-"
"This is a birthday?!"
Hob snorted. "What, want me to sing for you?" He took another forkful of the toast. "But kinda, yeah."
Morpheus looked like he was about to fall from his chair. Hob had to physically restrain himself from laughing and getting sent to the shadow realm as a consequence. It was hard, though - Dream looked so flabbergasted, it was like a kitten stepping into a puddle and discovering that water is, in fact, wet.
"A human holiday is the farthest cause for celebration I can think of," Dream said, eventually, voice still weirdly strangled.
Hob nodded half-heartedly. "Yeah," he said, "but you aren't."
Morpheus' entire face flushed, and Hob couldn't keep it in any longer - he laughed.
"Hob, I am shocked that I still keep you around."
"Me too, darlin'. Now eat your birthday eggs."
"I do not have a birthday," Morpheus grumbled, before picking up a fork and finally digging in.
"Now you do."
No response. Only a quiet, quiet munching sound, before Dream took another suspiciously quick bite, and Hob smirked so wide it hurt his cheeks.
"That good, huh?"
"Quiet, Hob Gadling."
"Yeah, yeah. Happy birthday, Dream."