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“Have you told him yet?”
Dream sighs. “I believe that we understand each other,” he replies.
“That’s not what I asked,” Rose mutters. “Did you sit him down and just tell him, like we discussed?”
He glances to the side for a second, before summoning his courage. Talking about emotions still doesn’t come easily to him, though Rose does her best not to judge - since learning more about Dream, she’s been quite understanding when he lacks the ability to express himself properly.
“During the reading in the library…”
Rose sighs and lays a hand on his palm. Dream turns his hand and laces their fingers together, curling his around hers protectively. Touch is yet another thing she and Jed are teaching him anew, and Dream finds it easier to accept when he knows that they need it as much as he does - they’re really all lonely, in different ways.
“You were telling a story to the kids, about a brave knight,” she says with a smile. “Does the lord love the knight, Uncle Dream?”
He smiles. “You know he does, Rose Walker. And now Hob knows too.”
“I’m proud of you,” she says, and her voice is free of pity or condescension, just filled with warmth. “I know it must’ve been hard.”
“It was not the easiest thing I’ve done,” he allows. “But far from the hardest.”
“I can only imagine.”
Dream accommodates Rose when she curls into his side as she likes to do, seeking closeness and simple affection. He’s never been this physically close to anyone with such innocence - he and his siblings aren’t like that, and even Death he never allowed close.
Rose and Jed needed his physical affection, however, and Dream never wants to see children suffer. He gave them as much closeness as he could, and slowly that allowed him to heal as well from the wounds that the cage caused, that he never really paused to contemplate. He knows they’re all leaning on each other for different things, and for once he doesn't mind the weakness.
How can he, when it brought him these two wonderful children?
His niece nudges him in the side and Dream glances down at her, raising an eyebrow. She rolls her eyes at him.
“Uncle Dream, you know what I mean,” she huffs. “You need to sit him down and actually talk! You two are adults! You’re both old and immortal, you have to talk!”
Dream closes his eyes but doesn’t deny her, knowing she’s right. While his affection for Hob has not been a secret to Dream for decades now, it’s an entirely different thing to say it to the man directly; to be alone and confess. The presence of children, the way Hob was somewhat removed from the situation allowed Dream more freedom, though he's still surprised he decided to confess.
Alas, he never lies to children.
“You know he’s head over heels for you, right? He’ll never reject you,” Rose says, softer this time.
“He should,” Dream replies quietly. “For his own good.”
She snorts, rolling her eyes yet again (it seems to be a common gesture while she's around Dream).
“As it is, it’s not for you to decide,” Rose says pointedly. “It’s his choice, and I think he deserves it, after all these years, yeah?”
Dream hums, considering it. Yet again, she’s not wrong. Hob is a grown man, wiser than most beings get to be - that comes with age, and his friend is certainly not a young boy anymore. He's not as old as the Endless, but he's human and all the better for it - his humanity is, after all, a big part of why Dream loves him, though he could ever quite capture the whole reason.
He loves those brown eyes, joy and sadness swirling in them in equal amounts. He loves Hob’s smile, whether small and sheepish or wide, beaming, and awed. He loves his hands, rough with work and years lived, and his simple humanity, his greed and selfishness too - for is Dream not selfish as well?
He loves Hob’s humanity, but adores the part of him that is so unlike any other mortal, the part that wishes to continue to live, no matter what.
The truth is simple, yet overwhelming in its complexity - Dream loves Hob Gadling, for everything he is, and for all that he isn’t. And this may be just one of the scariest things he’s had to admit.
“He’ll listen to your concerns, I’m sure! Come on, he's not some snappy young guy, he’s not my age,” Rose reasons.
Dream can’t help, but chuckle at that, shaking his head.
“Indeed he is not,” he confirms. “While in the past he may have reacted rather…violently, I am quite sure he will sit down and listen.”
“So what’s stopping you?”
He falls silent. They both know the answer, and it’s so laughably easy, yet overwhelmingly difficult at the same time - fear.
The only thing truly stopping Dream from going to Hob’s house and discussing things is his own fear of the consequences. Hob is his greatest friend, the one friend he’s kept through the centuries, though not due to his own efforts, and he doesn’t wish to lose this, not even for love.
“Some things are worth it, are they not?” he muses out loud, glinting at his niece. “A bit of hope can go a long way.”
“It sure can,” she sighs.
And didn’t he name himself hope in the Oldest Game? Did he not prove to the Lightbringer that it is worth it, and that they all keep hanging on, even if they think all is lost?
Dream straightens his shoulders, and Rose lets go of him without even asking, a proud smile on her face. He stands from the bed, though he bends down to press a kiss to the top of her hair, smiling softly.
“Thank you,” he whispers. “I’m afraid that without you, none of this would be happening.”
“Oh for sure,” Rose snorts. “At least for the next 200 years.”
He disappears in a swirl of sand, using that same power to leave a note in Jed’s room - he did promise the boy to spend more time with him since Lyta was gone, but he isn’t willing to back down now, and Jed will understand.
It feels impolite to just land in Hob’s living room, so Dream takes a deep breath and knocks on the front door, trying to call for all of his courage. Somehow, facing Lucifer Morningstar in Hell itself felt easier than what he’s about to do.
“Dream,” Hob breathes, wonder and joy on his face when he opens the door. “You don’t usually knock.”
He shrugs. “This is important. May I come in?”
“Always.”
Dream’s shoulder brushes against Hob’s chest when he passes him, and then he’s held in his friend’s arms as soon as the door closes behind him. He doesn’t tense, more than used to Hob’s touch, and brings his own arms around the other, pulling him closer.
Hob buries his face in his neck, and Dream sighs softly, his cheek against Hob’s hair.
“You want to talk,” his friend mumbles into his neck.
“I do not wish to leave things the way they are,” he says carefully. “You are more than worth the effort.”
Even like this Dream can feel the way Hob blushes, and he allows his lips to curl into a satisfied smile. The human is so old and experienced, yet Dream still finds ways to make him flush and stutter, and it always pleases him greatly.
“Do we need alcohol for this talk?”
He shakes his head. “It would be best to remain clear-headed, and there won't be any need to…dull any pain. I promise, my friend.”
Hob pulls away to look at him, and they stand in the hallway for a second, before he nods, and tugs him into the living room. They settle in their usual places on the sofa, and his friend just looks at him expectantly, eyebrows raised.
“You heard me in the library,” Dream starts. “I know you were there.”
“Yeah,” Hob whispers. “Did you mean it?”
“You know I did,” he chides him gently. “I do not lie like that.’
Hob snorts, and his whole body relaxes, Dream’s following suit.
“You must know I love you, old Stranger, there’s no way you don’t,” his friend says so easily, as if it’s no effort to confess, though Dream knows him better than to believe that - Hob enjoys putting on an act.
“It has been pointed out to me, recently.”
“Rose?”
“Jed, actually,” Dream corrects. “He wanted to know why we were not together when we so clearly love each other.”
Hob blushes at the blunt words, but Dream stands his ground. His heart would be hammering if it beat, and he’s more nervous than he can ever remember being, but he’s not about to back away, not now - he can almost taste what it’ll be like when they resolve everything.
“Smart kid,” Hob mutters. “Did he enlighten you about your own feelings too?”
Dream rolls his eyes at the cheeky question and grabs Hob’s hand, enjoying how it makes the other’s eyes go wide.
“He did not,” he says calmly. “He was about 60 years too late for that.”
“60 years,” Hob echoes in a whisper. “You realised-”
“Yes,” Dream interrupts. “I had nothing to do but think, did I not?”
Hob’s sigh is soft and full of sorrow, and he pulls Dream’s head closer, resting their foreheads together. He allows it, leans into the touch, even - it’s grounding and warm, and it makes him feel cared for, which is a nice change.
“Oh, love,” Hob sighs. “I’m so sorry it happened, but I’m so glad you’re in my arms now.”
Dream smiles then, taking advantage of Hob’s closed eyes to tug the other man closer, one arm sliding around his waist, the other around his neck, fingers pushing into Hob’s silky hair. His friend yelps, though it quickly melts into a satisfied hum, Hob relaxing almost immediately. He rests his back against the sofa, enjoying Hob’s arms around his waist, the warm weight of his body grounding Dream in the present.
“This is nice,” Hob mumbles. “Didn’t know you’d be so touchy, but I love it.”
He doesn’t take offence. “Rose and Jed taught me a lot.”
“Good kids,” his friend nods. “I love you, you know? Have for what feels like centuries, and it’s probably not far from the truth.”
“I love you too, Hob Gadling,” Dream replies softly. “And it’s been true for over 60 years, forgive me for having to catch up.”
Hob chuckles wetly, and Dream doesn’t startle at the tears - Rose told him repeatedly that strong emotions provoke tears, which has proven true for him as well, the maelstrom inside of him manifesting through unshed tears.
“I shall never let you go now,” he announces.
“Please don’t,” Hob requests quietly. “I wanna stay with you forever.”
Dream has to close his eyes and just breathe for a while, arms tightening around the other man. It’s one thing to hear from Rose and Jed that Hob loves him, and another to hear the man confess he wants to be with Dream forever - and they really do have forever.
He doesn’t think anyone has ever wanted him like that, truly and deeply, after witnessing his wit and cruelty, after knowing what Dream is capable of. And yet, Hob keeps surprising him at every turn, his rich human heart continuing to give.
They stay like that for a long while, just breathing, Hob’s sobs slowly turning into small sniffles, and then subsiding, leaving the man an exhausted heap of emotions. Dream shoulders it without complaint, pulling his love even closer, enjoying the closeness, his whole body humming in delight.
“Hmm, many feelings,” Hob finally says, voice teasing, but kind. “For both of us, I think.”
“Certainly,” Dream agrees. “Rose and Jed would be proud.”
Hob chuckles, slowly pulling away just so that he can rest his head on Dream’s shoulder, gently tilting his face down so that they’re looking into each other’s eyes. The other man is a mess, eyes red and puffy, tears having left tracks down his face, and Dream carefully wipes the wetness away, his thumb brushing over the swelling under his eyes.
“I look terrible, I know.”
“You’re beautiful,” he tells Hob truthfully. “Never anything but beautiful.”
Just as predicted, his love blushes bright red, though this one suits him far better than the flush from crying. Dream lets his eyes drink him in, greedily consuming every inch of Hob’s face - those eyes he loves, the smile he cherishes and adores, even his lightly stubbled jaw.
“Flatterer,” Hob grumbles, but Dream shakes his head.
“I do not lie, Hob Gadling, it’d be best if you remembered that, and I do not give empty compliments. I find them pointless.”
That causes the other man to laugh, that amazing sound that Dream cherishes, always wishes to hoard, and keep, and own.
“That is very much true.”
He allows them more time to just stare at each other, feeling safe and secure even under Hob’s scrutiny - those are the eyes of the man that loves him, Dream has nothing to fear.
“May I kiss you?”
Hob’s eyes widen, lips opening for a gasp, and then he's nodding slowly.
“You may.”
Dream has experienced many magical and ethereal things in his life, but there’s something… grounding in finally kissing Hob, a bit like coming back to the Dreaming. Like home.
They both gasp, and Hob’s hands scramble to cup his face. They fumble a bit causing the human to chuckle, but Dream pulls him closer, Hob angling their heads a bit, and it just falls into place, soft and pliant and warm - so, so warm. Hob tastes like the lemonade he must have been drinking before Dream came, and Dream licks into his mouth greedily, as possessive here as he is everywhere else.
“Love,” Hob whispers, pulling away so that they can look at each other.
He’s panting for breath, flushed and glowing with happiness, and Dream follows an impulse, biting Hob’s lower lip gently, enjoying how it makes his breathing hitch. Strong fingers tangle in his hair, pulling Dream closer, guiding him, and his hands slide down, resting on Hob’s lower back, arms pressed against his ribs. He feels them expand with every breath, his lover’s heart beating strongly and quickly, like a wild horse’s.
It's better than Dream ever dared to imagine, and he’s the Prince of Stories, so he has plenty of imagination to spare. It’s magical, and so very human at the same time, and he gets lost in the kisses easily, allowing time to slip around them.
He finds himself reclining against an arm of the sofa, Hob sprawled on his chest, their bodies pressed together from knees to shoulders, Dream’s hands kneading Hob’s shirt like a content cat. Their kisses slowly trail off into gentle nuzzling, Dream baring his throat for Hob to brush his lips against.
“Beats my best daydreams,” Hob finally whispers into the hollow of Dream's throat, when they’re just laying together, arms around each other.
“Hm, I was not privy to those,” Dream whispers.
His voice is even deeper than normal, and he likes how it causes Hob to shiver, the air between them growing warmer for a second. Dream doesn’t want to rush it, however much he wants the other man - they have all the time in the world, and a lot to talk about still.
“Are you, though? Normally?”
“If they’re loud enough,” he replies. “I made sure not to look into yours, just as I avoided your dreams - they felt too personal for me to venture into.”
“Well, you have a standing invitation into my dreams now, no need to knock or whatever you’ve been doing before,” Hob says. “I don’t have any secrets to hide.”
“That’s a bold statement,” Dream notices. “You are not a young man, you surely have your fair share of secrets.”
“Oh, I very much do. Just not ones I wish to hide from you.”
The words strike somewhere deep into Dream's core, and he tightens his arms around the other man. He’s trusted, he knows that, not only by Lucienne and Matthew, but by Rose and Jed, by Hob… But he's trusted with Hob’s secrets - all of them, if Dream wishes to know (he doesn’t, at least not now) - and it’s striking.
“There’s so much about me that you don’t know,” Dream muses.
“Probably,” Hob agrees. “But I’m one stubborn man, and we have a lot of time to go through it all.”
Dream raises an eyebrow. “I’m an Endless, I have an endless past as well.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I like ‘em older then, ey?” Hob teases, a smirk on his face that Dream just has to kiss away.
He likes the pleased, flushed, and lovestruck look on Hob so much better.