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“You named him Mr Marlowe?” Rose asks, amusement in her voice.
Hob shrugs. “Better than Shakespeare, at least Marlowe had talent,” he scoffs.
The young woman raises an eyebrow. “Is that old bitterness I hear? Did something happen? A little tea you wish to spill?”
“I still have no idea why you insist on calling this ‘spilling the tea’ - spilt tea is hot and can lead to serious burns!”
“You’re such an old man sometimes, I swear,” she sighs.
Hob grins, enjoying how relaxed Rose is - just a few weeks ago she wouldn’t even have thought about talking to him like that, but Dream’s presence and Hob’s charm seem to have worked wonders. It helps that he’s not her Professor, he just happens to work at the university she studies at.
“One of the oldest,” he agrees. “Though I can’t beat the old… tomcat there.”
They both snicker at his bad joke, turning to look at the sofa, where Jed is laying, a huge black cat curled around him, purring up a storm. Mr Marlowe is pressed against Dream’s side, dwarfed by the King of Dreams though Hob’s cat is far from small - Dream is just massive in this form.
One glowing eye opens and he gives Dream a besotted smile, not even minding how it makes Rose roll her eyes.
“You’re hopeless.” She walks to the sofa, gently nudging Jed in the side. “Can I squeeze in?”
The kid nods enthusiastically. “Uncle Dream is really big, you’ll fit.”
Rose slides between the back of the couch and Jed, pulling her little brother into her arms, and Dream adjusts easily, his fluffy tail covering them, intelligent eyes trained on his kids. He can be their Uncle, but Hob recognises a fatherly protectiveness when he sees it.
He settles into an armchair to work a bit, and Mr Marlowe joins him after an hour. When Hob raises his head to check on his guests, Rose and Jed appear to be asleep, Dream just purring softly, not moving an inch. Hob smiles and gently pets his lover’s side and neck, burying his fingers in the rich coat.
He has to strain to do so, making his laptop almost fall from his lap and causing Dream’s eyes to narrow.
“Alright,” Hob whispers. “Back to work.”
The kids don’t wake until it’s time for dinner, and even then they’re lazy and relaxed - not that Hob minds, it’s always a joy to see them so comfortable in his space. He knows they’re still longing for home, but it's certainly difficult between Dream and Lyta, who both love them in their own different ways. Hob can’t fault Lyta for her reaction, though he wishes she could see what’s right in front of her - Dream is far from being a danger.
“Many thoughts are haunting your mind,” comes a soft whisper, and Hob relaxes into the firm body that presses against his back, both of them swaying gently in front of the kitchen counter. “Why?”
Hob shrugs. “The kids bring it out in me.” He turns in his lover’s arms and cups Dream’s face, enjoying the sharp edges. “In the best way, of course.”
Dream smiles, galaxies in his eyes, but doesn’t say anything as they both know he agrees. Hob can see it clear as day, the difference between the Dream of their first meeting in this century and the Dream that stands before him now. The Endless is more relaxed now, something soft in his eyes, the line of his strong shoulders less harsh, less tense.
“Jed… he is not dealing well with what happened to him,” Dream finally says, his forehead pressed against Hob’s. “And I am not equipped to help.”
“Oh, darling, you help plenty,” Hob soothes. “But he may need more… professional help. Like a therapist.”
“Ah.” Dream doesn’t move away, though his eyes grow distant for a long while, until Hob kisses him gently to bring him back to the present. “I know of those, they seem to have helped you. Do you think this is what Jed needs?”
“He needs many things, Dream,” Hob says gently. “You and Rose, most of all, but therapy can’t hurt. He's young, he’ll get through it, but professional help is advised. To Rose too, for the record.”
“They’ve both been through a lot,” Dream agrees. “It is not unreasonable to need help.”
“You’ve been through a lot too, love,” he reminds his lover.
“Maybe,” Dream allows. “But I am not human, and I process my experiences differently. I shall be… better.”
Hob’s eyes soften and he pulls the other man closer again, enjoying the feeling of him in his arms. It's true that Dream is far from a human - it’s almost impossible to truly understand what an Endless is, and he knows no therapist would be able to help his lover. At the same time, Hob trusts Dream, and he can see the truth in his voice.
Dream really is better.
He can see how helping Rose and Jed helps his lover as well, so he allows the other man to slip from his arms and head into the living room. Jed is already curled up on the sofa, half-asleep, and Hob leans against the doorframe, watching Dream pull the kid into his arms. Jed doesn’t even wake up, just curls more into his Uncle’s chest, Rose gathering their things while Dream just sends Hob a smile.
“Thank you for tonight,” she tells Hob with a shy smile. “It was amazing.”
“My home is always open to you,” he says honestly. “And you’re always welcome.”
She blushes and ducks in for a quick hug, before almost running to Dream’s side, sand swirling around them. Hob shakes his head when they’re gone, and busies himself with cleaning the living room, gathering the blankets, and feeding Mr Marlowe.
Just as he predicted, Dream appears not even 15 minutes later, face soft with relief.
“I have talked to Rose.” Dream’s in Hob’s arms before he even finishes speaking, and he presses a kiss to his lover’s temple. “She agrees that the idea is sound and she shall look for therapists tomorrow.”
“That’s good,” Hob sighs. “She’s one smart lady.”
“Certainly.”
Mr Marlowe comes begging for pets at that moment, his talent for interrupting almost unparalleled (though Matthew has him beat there), and Dream’s attention slides to him in an instant. Hob just sighs, watching as the man he loves abandons him completely to change into a huge cat form and brush against Mr Marlowe, both of them purring.
He refuses to be jealous of a cat (his own cat at that!), and it helps that they’re ridiculously adorable, curling up on Hob’s bed together, Dream’s huge form wrapping around Mr Marlowe completely. Hob doesn’t really know why they’re so close, but his cat has never been this well-behaved, and Dream apparently likes cats - they have wonderful dreams, whatever that means.
Hob stretches on the bed next to the cats, hiding his smile when Dream immediately moves to press against his chest, a furry face pushing into Hob’s neck, soft ears brushing his jaw. Mr Marlowe follows to settle against Hob’s leg, and he wraps his arms around his lover, enjoying the soft fur.
Dream’s coat is long and luxurious, so black it appears to swallow the light, and is the softest thing Hob’s ever felt. He purrs deep and loud, and Hob closes his eyes, enjoying the moment. He doesn’t really care what form his love takes, they’re all Dream, but he does have a weakness for this one - Hob’s definitely a cat person (there’s a reason why he fell for Dream, of all people), and Dream is exquisite as a cat.
“You’re so clingy sometimes,” he whispers, admiration and awe in his voice. “I have to thank Rose and Jed for it.”
“You enjoy teasing me, Hob Gadling,” his lover’s voice sounds.
Hob doesn’t startle, more than used to hearing Dream’s voice coming from a cat’s body, but Mr Marlowe twitches, an offended meow leaving him. He chuckles and uses one hand to brush his cat’s ears, until he settles back down, and then Dream’s demanding his attention again, his eyes glowing. Hob smiles, his hand looking rough and scarred on Dream’s fluffy, silky face, but his lover doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, the Endless melts under Hob’s fingers, eyes closing in pleasure.
“You’re fun to tease.”
Dream doesn’t reply, just settles more comfortably against Hob’s chest, and they exist like that for a long while, just breathing. For a very long time, Hob dreamed and fantasised about what it would be to finally have his Stranger like this, but this image never crossed his mind - this absolute peace and comfort, the mutual understanding between them, the love so freely given by a man so closed-off and guarded.
Hob isn’t so naive to think Dream doesn’t feel, or feels less. If anything, the Endless’ emotions are like a raging storm, and he wears them on his sleeve, his eyes beyond expressive. And Hob knows that inside that perfect, pale chest lies a heart so huge it’s almost incomprehensible, capable of so much care and love, so much affection.
It’s never more clear than when Dream interacts with children. His absolute patience and calmness, his care and protectiveness, the way he answers questions as if one of his creations asked them, never thinking less of the children if the answer is easy.
It’s a strangely attractive feature, though Dream is just made of those, every inch of him calling Hob forward, making him want to worship and appreciate this wonderful being. Dream with kids is a special brand of attractiveness, speaking to the (almost forgotten) parent in Hob, the part of himself that he almost completely buried.
Somewhere between his admiration and thoughts, Hob falls asleep, only to wake up due to a nightmare - or actually due to a heavy weight on his chest, his fingers tangled in soft, long fur. He opens his eyes, coming face to face with a huge beast, though panic doesn’t arrive - it’s just Dream.
“Love…”
“That was a cruel one,” Dream speaks, voice calm and soft, no hint of judgement. “What brought it on?”
Hob doesn’t ask if Dream wasn’t the one to bring this nightmare, not about to insult his lover like that. While he doesn't completely understand how the Dreaming works, he knows that nightmares know their place, they know where to go, no need for the King to always be involved.
“They’re your kids,” Hob whispers. “We both know it.”
Dream cocks his head to the side, his glowing eyes the only source of light in the room. His lover stays quiet for a while, just thinking something over, so Hob busies himself by brushing his hands up and down his back and sides, his form almost as big as a tiger now - better for holding. Hob does just that, curling himself into the Endless, allowing Dream's bigger body to surround him in softness. He likes how Dream isn't human now, for he fears what having actual arms around him would do to his frayed brain.
“They’re each others’, but I shall gladly fill whatever role they need me to be,” Dream says finally. “And I will always appreciate and seek you by my side.”
Hob’s breathing catches with the implications. “I just met them.”
“True,” Dream allows. “But we have time, Hob, and they need more than I can give them alone. They’re already comfortable with you, we both see it, so why do you flinch away from what is right in front of you?”
There’s no reproach or accusation in Dream’s voice, and Hob closes his eyes and thinks it over. They make a point to talk, actually talk - about their feelings and thoughts, for they both have enough baggage to ruin even the most wonderful of relationship, and this is not something they’re willing to give up on.
“I don’t want it to be another Robyn situation.”
Even saying the name causes Hob to choke a bit, and between one flicker and the next, he’s wrapped in Dream's arms, soft feathers soon closing around his frame as well. Hob glances at them through the tears.
“Wings?”
He feels Dream shrug. “I followed your daydream, my beloved, and this is what you need me to be. Allow me.”
Hob nods, curling himself more into Dream's arms, grasping the back of his shirt, feeling for the place where black wings sprout from his back. They’re safe and strong, enclosing them in the cocoon of privacy that Hob so desperately needs, and finally, he relaxes.
“I understand your pain, Hob, but this shall not be another Robyn, for they are not him. They are different people, in a different world, and you are different compared to what you were then. Everything changes.”
“Even us.”
“Especially us.”
He closes his eyes and nestles closer, the fear gripping him finally easing. He knows this is something Dream understands intimately, though they haven’t talked about it yet, and that knowledge is grounding.
“Thank you, love,” he whispers into Dream’s neck, before kissing it gently.
Dream’s hold on him tightens, and Hob smiles when he feels the other press a kiss to his hair. “It’s my privilege.”
Hob sleeps, and he dreams of starlight eyes and gentle kisses. When he wakes, Dream’s weight is pressing him into the bed, smothering him with fur and whiskers. He smiles.