Work Text:
Dream sighed into the pillow as Hob’s impossibly heavy limbs wrapped around his body and pinned him to the bed like restraints.
Dream loved his husband. He loved that Hob went to great lengths to find his favorite citrus tea, that he adored their daughter so intensely that it showed in his every glance in her direction, the way he bristled and puffed out his chest at the very sign of a threat against his family.
Yes, even the way he covered Dream with his body at night because he knew the endless needed to feel warm and sheltered after a century trapped in glass.
But at four months pregnant with their son, his whole body heavy and sore, Dream wished for once he could have the freedom to move in their shared bed.
He snaked a hand down to his belly and found Hob’s already covering his little bump. He rested his own palm on the small patch of exposed skin not already protected by his husband and closed his eyes. Dream searched for any sign of movement, a kick or even a heartbeat, and found only silence within. The baby had been growing, he’d certainly been affecting Dream’s appetite, he craved chocolate amongst all ridiculous things, and he shifted Dream’s moods like Dawn did the cloud cover.
All clear signs of a healthy pregnancy said Hob and Death and Lucienne and Matthew and everyone else who made it their business to poke at his belly on all occasions.
Still, Dream worried.
At this point in his first pregnancy, Dawn had already contacted them in Hob’s dreams. She’d told them her name and even shifted beneath his skin. She’d made her presence known. This baby seemed fully content to sit quietly and worry his father mad.
Dream sensed Hob’s worry too beneath that confident grin. He saw it in the way the immortal left his fingers on Dream’s belly a beat longer than usual, how the stack of pregnancy books had migrated from the bookshelf to his desk, how he whispered to Dawn when he thought Dream was asleep- asking her if she could tell him anything else about her little brother.
Another odd thing. With Dawn, Dream could have slept days away. This baby roused his appetite at all hours of the night and wouldn’t allow him to rest until he fed.
He’d so far avoided telling Hob about that change. Which was how he found himself trapped under his snoring husband’s arms and legs when his whole body itched for movement and freedom.
And chocolate.
Finally, his stomach groaning, Dream decided. He bunched the mound of blankets up until they believably matched his width. Then he reached through the gap between Hob’s arms for the bag of sand on the bedside table. A small sprinkle over his face and a blink of his eyes was all it took to transport him from the bed to the hallway. He listened through the cracked door as Hob snuffled, the mattress groaned, and, after a worrying moment, the deafening snores resumed.
Dream exhaled and sunk against the wall. The cooler air from the open kitchen window felt blissful after hours trapped beneath blankets and body heat. He savored it for a long moment, breathed in the crisp scent of snow clouds, and then padded in the direction of the door marked “Dawn” in yellow and red paint.
Twisting the knob and carefully breaching the barrier, Dream tracked the sliver of moonlight to the little toddler bed and the poof of black hair surrounding chubby cheeks and pouty lips. She slept sideways on the mattress with her gangly limbs sprawled out like a starfish and all the blankets deposited on the floor.
Dawn had always run warm, but that didn’t stop Hob from wrapping her in a jumper when the weather turned cold. She’d immediately shrug it off with the combined stubbornness of an immortal and an endless. Dream stayed out of it, content that the girl’s power always kept her comfortable. Hob worried about what other humans would say, though. That perhaps they’d try to take Dawn away if they thought them bad parents.
Dream, though, knew no human could touch their daughter without inciting a war they’d never win.
Content that the girl wouldn’t stir, Dream went out to the kitchen. He dodged the ridiculous tangle of lights, the smiling reindeer face, and the very pointy tree that Hob insisted they needed for the coming holiday. A modest pile of gifts sat underneath, most addressed to Dawn, and he found himself warming at the sheer amount of love the girl drew from everyone in their lives.
Even Desire and Despair regularly sent gifts, most recently a dapper bow tie that Dawn refused to take off and a toy rat that she loved to drag around by the tail.
He still didn’t understand humans and their custom of keeping wild foliage in their homes, though.
Opening the refrigerator, he touched his belly and asked within for what would soothe this craving. A container of chocolate yogurt made his mouth water. He took that and a spoon out the back door and settled on the lounge chair in the garden with Hob’s jumper stretched over his knees. The unseasonably mild nighttime air raised the hair on the back of his neck and eased the feeling of suffocation brought on by the heat inside the flat. The first spoonful of yogurt sated the gnawing hunger. The worry still throbbed, though, as the baby laid so very still within.
“Sneaking a midnight snack?”
Hob leaned against the open door with a blanket draped lazily over his shoulders. His hair stuck up amusingly and his easy smile told Dream that his disappearance hadn’t caused upset.
“If I truly wished to sneak.” Dream uncurled himself with a teasing smile and made room on the cushion. “You’d never know.”
Hob snorted. “You’re not as sneaky as you think, your highness.” He crawled onto the chair and settled behind dream, opening the blanket in invitation. Dream leaned back against his firm chest and Hob closed the blanket around them both. Then the immortal’s sleep-roughened voice whispered in his ear and set all his senses on fire. “You leave a sand trail all the way to your adorable little behind.”
Dream tilted his head up, met the smoldering brown eyes that had lured him in so long ago, and licked another spoonful of yogurt, fully aware of how that would affect Hob. “The baby demanded chocolate and you were snoring like a bear.”
“Hmm.” The immortal bit his lip and flushed. “Good luck that you like bears then.”
Hob’s telltale firmness pressed against Dream’s tailbone when he tilted his head up and firmly kissed his lips. Two strong hands traveled over his belly, stopping to tease his ribs until he squirmed, and then moved up to his hands to pry the yogurt and spoon away. The endless broke the kiss and grabbed for the treat until Hob raised his eyebrows in a silent playful challenge and held up the spoon, making clear that he meant to feed Dream himself.
“You should have woken me, love. I’d have fetched it for ya.” Hands busy stirring, Hob brushed some hair from Dream’s temple with his nose and spoke into his skin with a soft kiss. “I could have even fed ya in our warm bed instead of outside in the chill.”
Dream felt the silly waggle of those eyebrows on his scalp and hid his warming cheeks in the blanket.
“I couldn’t sleep. I needed air.”
Hob offered a spoonful of the sweet treat. Dream rolled his eyes, but ultimately accepted. It had been a condition of them trying for another baby that Dream would allow Hob to care for him in whatever way he deemed necessary. Dream understood, he did have difficulty determining the limitations of a pregnant body and he’d never wish to risk their baby’s health.
He also found that he didn’t mind the doting as it certainly seemed to please Hob.
“You’re worried about the baby.”
Dream swallowed and buried his hands in the jumper’s long sleeves.
“He should have shown himself by now. What if he’s weak? Or ill?”
Hob fed him two more spoonfuls, emptying the container, and then set the yogurt aside.
“Death said that he’s healthy, love. She’d know.” His hands reflexively found Dream’s little belly and held it beneath the blanket. “Besides, we can’t say what’s normal, can we? This is only the second endless pregnancy of its kind that we’re aware of. Perhaps Dawn was just a bit bolder than this little one.”
They both glanced at the door, left ajar so they could hear if the toddler so much as stirred. She was a sound sleeper, but the dark frightened her and some nights she’d crawl into their bed for comfort. The silence sustained, though, and Dream relaxed into Hob’s arms again.
“She does have your propensity to speak at all times.”
“Oy.” Hob raked a toe over Dream’s foot until he shuttered. “She got your stunning looks. She had to get something from me.”
Dream tried very hard not to smile. He despised how Hob’s little turns of phrase could transform him, one of the most powerful beings in the known universe, into a pitiful swooning mess. Hob seemed to enjoy this strange power he had over him and wielded it at every opportunity. Though, he refrained from doing so the presence of Dream’s more troublesome siblings or in any situation where Dream felt vulnerable. In those times, Hob became the protective lion standing by his mate’s side and flashing his fangs at the threat.
Whoever said humans did not have powers of their own was sorely mistaken.
The rise of Hob’s chest pulled Dream back from his thoughts. The immortal’s long exhale prepared him for a revelation.
“Perhaps that’s it, yea? If he’s like you, then he’ll need to feel truly safe before he’ll show himself.”
Dream stared at his belly and considered the baby within. It must be frightening to be contained in a small space, surrounded by beings you’ve never met, to be at your most vulnerable with countless unfamiliar eyes scrutinizing you from without.
Oh.
Icy panic cloaked Dream and a sheen of dirty glass clouded his mental vision. He squirmed around in Hob’s lap until they were face to face and surrounded by blanket.
“He doesn’t feel safe. Robert, we must convince him that he’s safe with us.”
Hob, his face calm and sure, pulled the blanket tight around Dream’s shoulders and ran his hands up and down his arms, ready with an answer.
“You know, when you came to me at the Inn after all those years, you were different.” He dragged a hand down Dream’s cheek and around his nape, squeezing protectively. “You had a thousand yard stare. I recognized it. I’ve seen many men with it, all prisoners of war who’d had their hope ripped away.” Dream leaned into Hob’s steady grip and calmed. “I knew I couldn’t change what they’d done to ya. What I could do, though, was show you with my voice, my hands, and my heart, that you were safe with me.”
Safe.
Dream breathed, filled his body with fresh oxygen to nourish his son, and thought back to his first night in this flat when he’d stood in a room filled with drawings of himself. There, under Hob’s protective watch, he’d lowered his guard and trusted the man who’d shown him centuries of patience even when he’d been afraid to call him a friend, afraid to share a word about himself, afraid to accept the love he didn’t know he needed. Hob’s comforts that night, both physical and emotional, had dulled the ache put in place by his captors.
It’d been the first time he’d truly felt safe since his escape from the glass.
Dream, his throat constricting, crawled up Hob and wrapped his arms around his neck. He pressed their lips together in a slow, messy, hungry kiss that radiated the gratitude he felt for this man. Hob’s arms surrounded him immediately, one possessive hand holding him up by his behind while the other wrapped around his middle and covered the side of his belly. Their kiss tasted like chocolate and home and love. He let the ravenous slurry of emotion swallow him whole, directing it all inward to their child.
Do you feel it? That’s safe. You’re safe. He’ll keep us safe.
Then Dream grunted into Hob’s mouth when a little foot kicked him from the inside.
They broke apart at once, Hob absolutely beaming as he cupped Dream’s belly.
“Was that our boy?”
Dream shuttered as a stronger impact triggered another undignified sound. His hands joined Hob’s on his belly and the baby reached back with another set of quaking impacts.
“He’s kicking me.” Dream’s eyes burned with relief. Then, it happened again. “Relentlessly.”
Hob lowered himself to Dream’s belly and pressed a single kiss to his wool-covered skin.
“Hello, little one. I’m your dad. It’s lovely to finally feel you.” Then he lifted his eyes to Dream and spoke to them both at once. “Your daddy’s strong and he’s keeping ya safe in there. I’m keeping him safe out here. When you’re ready to join us in this realm, then we’ll both keep you safe.” He swaddled the blanket over Dream’s belly. “Until then, you can have all the chocolate you like.”
Dream gasped at the force of the responding jab to his gut. Yes, this baby certainly craved sweets.
A little whine came from the open door. Both men smiled at the little girl and the stuffed rat she clutched tightly to her chest. Her mismatched pajamas hung loosely as she rubbed at her eyes.
Dream reached out an arm. “It’s alright, Dawn. Come here.”
Little bare feet crunched the dewy grass as she ran over to the cushion and climbed into Hob’s lap. The immortal held her close, kissed her head through her thick hair, and then wiggled his fingers over her ribs until she shook with drowsy giggles. Then he placed her hands on Dream’s belly so she could feel the kicks.
“Your little brother wants to say hello, Princess.”
“Brother.” She whispered the word and so gently petted his belly.
“He’s strong, huh?” Hob kissed Dawn’s head and held Dream’s eyes. “Strong and healthy.”
Through it all the baby kicked excitedly and moved so erratically that the yogurt began to churn rather unpleasantly in Dream’s stomach. He squirmed, swallowing an awful taste. Hob frowned and took Dream’s hand to run a calming thumb over his pulse point.
“How about we go inside, huh?” He pressed Dawn’s toy into her arms as she gave a big yawn and curled up against his chest. “Cuddle up in our warm bed and see if we can convince our boy to meet us in our dreams.”
They lifted their heads just as the first snowflakes drifted down. Hob stood, Dawn secured in his arms, and lifted the girl so she could catch one in her open palms. He laughed heartily when she pressed fistful of melting snow into his hair instead, triggering another round of kicks from their son.
In a few days’ time they’d celebrate another holiday together with their endless family. Dawn would open her gifts with the help of Destruction, Matthew, and Death. Desire and Delirium would paint each other’s nails while Despair ate from the catered spread and fed Barnabas. Destiny would join Hob in the kitchen as they discussed the latest literature over the kettle. Tea would be served too, or perhaps hot cocoa if Dream’s eyes did that obscene thing that always swayed the immortal.
The television program about reindeer, a family tradition, would narrate the peaceful scene.
Now, though, Hob cradled their sleepy toddler in one arm and held the other out to help Dream up and take him to bed.
Where he planned to crawl beneath his husband’s heavy protective limbs and close his eyes, finally safe and sound.