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It had been a long day, and Hob still had several papers to grade. God what passed for education in schools these days was a travesty. It was still a damn sight better than what education had been a hundred years ago. And miles better than what passed for education in his day. The only thing he was ever taught was how to handle a plow. Then after, a sword.
And he couldn't teach real history, not if he wanted to keep his job. There was so much they left out of the sort of misery inflicted on the lower classes. By those who had everything and wanted more. It was the sort of greed that Hob knew intimately because once upon a time, he'd been just the same.
It was only having everything, losing it, then having it again that broke him of his gluttony. Hob still had access to a vast fortune, but now it wasn't just for him. He funded several charitable foundations for the same kids he taught every day. The ones living in council houses, from families on the dole, who weren't the right color or spoke with the wrong accent. They were written off the minute they were born.
Hob couldn't save them all, but he could at least give them a fair chance to make something of themselves.
He was just rolling his eyes at a sarcastic answer to a test question when he heard someone approach his table. Hob's heart leaped in his chest, but he had to push it down. It wasn't him. It never was. But Hob still couldn't help hoping as he looked up.
His hair was short and slightly messy. And his clothes were plain, but all black. The ruby was missing, and he looked thinner. But it was unmistakably him. Hob couldn't stop himself from smiling.
"You're late," he teased.
To Hob's surprise, his friend smiled.
"It seems I owe you an apology. I've always heard it's impolite to keep one's friends waiting."
And then he sat down. He didn't look quite as stiff as Hob remembered.
"You know, most friends know each other's names," Hob said. He held his hand out. "I'm Hob Gadling."
"I have many names."
Hob rolled his eyes. "Oh, not this again. If we're friends you can tell me at least one of them. I need to call you something. What name do you prefer?"
"Morpheus. Or Dream of the Endless."
He raised an eyebrow. "That's an interesting name. How'd you come by it?"
"I am the King of Dreams. More than that, I am the anthropomorphic personification of dreams."
Hob stared at him. Was he having a laugh? No, from what Hob knew of him, Dream didn't have a sense of humor.
"Is that how you were able to keep me from…" He trailed off.
"It was my sister's intervention," said Dream. "She is Death."
"So I was right. You just have to say you're not going to die."
"Not exactly."
It was fortunate that the waitress, Nadine, interrupted just then. As Hob was gobsmacked and had no idea what to say.
"Can I get you anything to drink?"
"A pint of your finest ale, please," Dream said.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "We've got several."
"Just get him the same as me, Nadine."
"Gotcha." And she was off.
Dream was looking at the papers on the table. "I apologize for interrupting your work."
"This? Don't worry about it. I'm on the last one. I always save Davies for last for sanity's sake." Hob gave it another look, then wrote a final note with the grade. "To her credit, some of her answers were very interesting. But she's nitpicky and focuses on the wrong details in assignments and tests."
It was so strange to talk about something so mundane with Dream.
"You're a teacher now," he observed.
"You know what they say. Those who don't learn from their past are doomed to repeat it. Figure I'm doing my part." Hob put the papers away. "So I have to ask the obvious question, where have you been?"
"I was imprisoned by mortals for over a century."
"Oh, that's… Not great."
"It's why I was not able to meet you as promised."
"I'm not worried about that, I'm more worried about the fact you've been in prison for over a hundred years. Are you okay?"
Morpheus gave him a look, and Hob snorted.
"No, of course not. Will you be?"
"In time, once I have rebuilt my realm," he replied.
They lapsed into silence for a moment, which is when Nadine returned. She placed a pint in front of Dream and topped off Hob's. When she left, Hob asked, "What should we drink to?"
Morpheus lifted his own glass and said, "To absent friends." There was just the barest hint of a smile there.
Hob laughed. "Cheers."
They tapped their glasses together and then they both drank. Hob knew he had more than his fair share of absent friends. People he'd loved and lost over the centuries. Some he only vaguely remembered, others were clear as day. Some he only recalled in his dreams. Which, speaking of…
"So if you're the king of dreams, do you decide what people dream about?"
"No, you're the ones who chose what you dream. Though I often craft what you see."
"What's the teeth thing about?"
He frowned. "Pardon?"
"Teeth falling out, I have that dream a lot. Or that I'm naked and have to give a speech or something."
Dream smirked. "Both are common. It means you're anxious about something."
"That's it? That's all the insight you have?"
Dream didn't answer, he just stared.
Then Hob had a thought. A stray thought, something that might flit in and out like a hundred others. If Morpheus hadn't been sitting across the table from him, Hob wouldn't have paid it any mind at all. But Hob had a very vivid dream only a week ago. And considering the subject of said dream was sitting in front of him, it wouldn't leave his mind.
"Wait, do you know everything I dream about? Like, all of it?"
It was in the slight narrowing of his eyes, and how he was trying and failing, to keep from smiling. Hob had his answer, and he wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole right this second.
"Oh bugger," Hob muttered.
"Do not be ashamed," he replied. "You aren't the first to have such dreams, you won't be the last."
"But I was dreaming about having sex with you! In my car, as a matter of fact."
That was what had caught his attention. Not that he was dreaming about sex, or even who he was having it with. Neither were new. It was odd that it was in a car. Worse, that little black convertible he'd been driving in the 80s. All that money and the car was tiny.
In the dream, he'd gone to the old Tavern of the White Horse. It was still 1989, and instead of being stood up, Dream was there and waiting for him. They talked, and they drank together. Dream finally opened up a little. And the evening ended with Hob taking Dream out to his car and the two shagging until they couldn't move. Hob had never fucked anyone in a car. In a carriage, sure. But cars weren't all that comfortable and he much preferred a bed.
He'd woken up from that one tinged with regret, and he was blue the whole day. Because in the dream, he'd been happy. Both of them had.
Dream still had that smug look on his face. It made Hob want to throw his drink at him.
"Which troubles you more, that I know about the dream or the dream itself?"
"It's private, isn't it?" Hob fidgeted with his pen. "It's a bit like reading my diary. And up until twenty minutes ago, I didn't know anything about you. Except that you're immortal and can make people see the past with sand. I didn't even know your name."
"You feel we're not on equal footing." It wasn't a question. Well, God bless him for understanding at least.
"Of course we're not. You know everything about me and I know almost nothing about you." Hob leaned forward. "And since it's what you do, or I should say what you are, you should know how… Intimate it is. To know what someone else dreams. That's giving you a road map of their hearts and minds."
Dream stared at him for a moment. "Perhaps you are right. What would you like to know?"
So, Hob questioned him. Over many, many rounds, he learned as much as he could. He talked about his subjects and their functions. Seemed to delight in it actually. It was nice to see him excited about something. And he had been married once and had a son. Though it had ended badly, Hob's heart went out to him. Dream had three sisters, two brothers, and a sibling who was both but neither. Hob told him that was called non-binary nowadays and he had a kid like that in one of his classes.
In return, Hob caught Dream up on how the world had changed while he was imprisoned. He especially liked telling him about technological advances. He also talked about his students, since they gave him a reason to get up every day. Sure some of them were little shits, but in general, he liked them and looked at them as his own kids.
"Do you not intend to have another child?" Dream asked.
Hob shook his head. "When Robyn died I almost died with him. I don't want to experience that kind of pain again. Same reason I haven't married since Eleanor. I've had an affair here and there, but never a serious relationship. I just can't bring myself to do it, not after I lost them. And I know these kids I'm teaching now I'll see them grow old and die. That's painful too. But I'd rather help them along if I can."
It was getting late. The pub was going to close soon. Nadine had already gone home and that twat Walter was behind the bar.
He never wanted this night to end. He was finally getting to know his oldest friend.
"They're probably going to toss us out soon," he said.
Dream looked at him for a moment, then asked, "Shall we continue our conversation elsewhere?"
His heart leaped and Hob couldn't contain his grin. "Yeah, that'd be great. Let me settle the tab and we'll get out of here."
When they left, it was a short walk to Hob's flat. It was late, so there weren't many people out. And he and Dream kept chatting all the way to his front door. He unlocked it, turned on the lights, and let Dream in. His flat wasn't large or impressive, but it was tidy and felt like home.
"You want something to drink?" Hob asked.
"No, I believe I've had my fill."
"Can you even get drunk?"
"No."
Figured. Maybe that's why Dream was so melancholy all the bloody time.
Hob got a bottle of water out of the fridge and opened it. He drank slowly, he knew he'd have a slight hangover tomorrow. Centuries of living and he still couldn't quite manage drinking in moderation.
"So where were we?" Hob asked.
"You were telling me about your more promising students."
"Oh right. Well, I've already said I think Davies is going to be a writer. If she's not writing, she's reading. Doesn't talk much to the other kids. And I've seen some of her creative writing essays, they're mad but they're entertaining. And the Jones kid wants to be a performance artist. They sew their own costumes and write their own music then make videos to put on YouTube. They're quite good."
"Are they the one you mentioned who's non-binary?"
"Yeah. They're pretty open about their gender and their sexuality. Frankly, it's a relief to see."
"Why?"
Hob snorted. "Don't you remember what it used to be like? Back in my day, if there was even a hint someone was gay they'd be run out of the village, and that was if they were lucky. What do you think we'd have done to people like Jones in 1389? Nothing good, I'll tell you. It's not perfect now, but it's still a damn sight better than it was. I even came out at work last year. It was a relief, actually. To finally say aloud what I've known the whole time."
"And that is?"
Hob had an idea. It was a stupid and risky idea considering how angry Dream got when Hob just said they were friends. But to hell with it. There'd been tension for nearly seven hundred years. Time to bring it to a head.
"That much like your other boyfriend, Will Shakespeare, I'm bisexual."
Dream didn't rise to the bait. "I admit such things do not often cross my mind. I don't view them the same as you."
"Hm, I suppose you wouldn't." He was a little disappointed it didn't work. But it was fine. They could go on being friends. Hob could settle for that.
Dream paused. "Did you just call yourself my boyfriend?"
Hob laughed. "Caught on have you?" He finished the water. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, I was joking."
"Were you?"
His tone had shifted, and it drew Hob's eyes to him. And oh, that's a look that Hob had only seen in his dreams. There was a heat in Morpheus's gaze that sent a thrill down his spine.
"Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't."
He stalked closer, and suddenly Dream was pressed against Hob, looming over him. He was so warm; Hob always thought he'd be cold as marble. Then Dream kissed him and Hob swore his heart stopped for a moment.
It was exactly what he thought it would be, plus a hundred times better. Morpheus started out soft and tentative like he wasn't sure it was okay. When Hob kissed back with enthusiasm, that seemed to be all the permission he needed. Strong but slim fingers gripped his jacket, and Hob wrapped his arms around Dream like he'd never let go.
The only thing that could stop them was Hob's incessant need to breathe.
He pulled back with a gasp. Dream kissed his throat and it sent the most delicious shivers all through Hob.
"You know, I've had a lot to drink," he teased. "You shouldn't leave me alone in such a vulnerable state."
"Is that so?" Morpheus pushed Hob's jacket off his shoulders. "Do you not worry I may impugn your honor?"
"Guess we'll have to run off to Gretna Green then," Hob teased.
He didn't reply. Hob wasn't sure he got the joke, but it didn't matter because then Morpheus was kissing him again. Hob wondered if he should pinch himself to make sure he was still awake.
Unfortunately, Hob wasn't kidding, he did drink too much. It was no surprise when he couldn't quite keep his balance and nearly fell over. Dream managed to grab him around the waist so he didn't lose his footing. It was with reluctance that Hob pulled away.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"Nonsense," Dream replied. "As you said, you've imbibed far too much for one evening. I think it's time I put you to bed."
"Any chance of you joining me?"
Dream paused, his gorgeous blue eyes locked to Hob's.
"I shall stay by your side, but only to watch over you as you sleep."
He groaned. "You're no fun."
"On the contrary." Dream leaned in close and whispered in Hob's ear. "If you wish for us to make love, I would prefer you sober for the experience."
The deep rumbling of his voice made Hob melt. "Right then, bedtime it is."
Of course, it was one thing to say it and another to actually walk himself into the bedroom. He found himself distracted by a certain anthropomorphic personification's kisses. Eventually, he did make it to the bedroom. Hob changed into his pajamas, brushed his teeth, and shut off the bathroom light.
He honestly didn't think Morpheus would stay. He half expected him to vanish when Hob's back was turned. But, no, there Dream was, sitting on the edge of the bed. Hob let loose a sigh, the busy day finally catching up with him. It had been long and eventful and he was so tired he might have fallen asleep standing up. Hob shook his head, then crawled under the covers. "If you're going to stay, get in here with me. I don't want you watching me like a stalker."
Dream smirked, but a moment later he was laying next to Hob. He was no longer in his nice coat and boots, but in pajamas that looked suspiciously like Hob's, only in black. Cheeky bugger. He rolled onto his side so they were facing each other. It was dark, and though Hob couldn't quite see his face, he could still somehow make out Dream's eyes in the dark.
He pressed one more kiss to his lips, slow and sweet, and then wrapped an arm around him. Dream didn't protest, or push him away, and Hob sighed again, this time with relief. Dream in turn pulled him close until Hob was lying on his chest. He could hear Dream's heart beating beneath his ear. Hob smiled at the sound and then yawned.
"'Night, Dream."
"Good night, Hob Gadling," he replied.
"And no more sexy dreams, at least not until I can have the real thing. That's cheating."
Dream chuckled. "As you wish."