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Dream had avoided music for as long as he could remember. It is hard to escape something that is so present in the mind of dreamers, that plays in the imaginary background of every argument, every victory, every kiss and every loss. Still, he avoided music, because no voice could ever sound as sweet as the one he'd lost far too soon, the only one he wished he could hear sing again.
Still, it didn't mean he could ban people from dreaming of music, because it would be largely unethical of him, and if Dream took one thing seriously (not to say he didn't take all things seriously, but one clearly above all) it was his work. He would not keep dreamers from creating music in their slumber, but he would also not engage with those minds. They were loud enough on their own, and if he had to bring himself any closer to them than he was strictly required to... well, that would certainly overwhelm him to the point of making the entire Dreaming completely devoid of sound for a while.
There was one mind that he'd never refuse a visit to, and that was Hob Gadling's very loud, very musical sleeping brain.
The first time Dream heard Hob sing, it made him cry on the spot.
Tears just rolled down his pale cheeks, and he felt so vulnerable that when Hob noticed his presence, all Dream could do was say "this dream is over" and disappear from the Waking for a week. When they did meet again, Hob apologised profusely for upsetting him, even though he didn't know what had caused Dream so much distress, and only then did he notice that it wasn't Hob's fault, how could it be?
They sat together in silence in Hob's living room after Dream told him of Orpheus' divine talents, of his beauty and his music, of the tragedy of his death and the cowardice of his father, if Dream could even call himself Orpheus' father, and not his biggest detractor, a traitor in the face of love that now he knew he'd do the same to recover.
Hob kissed the tears away from Dream's cheeks, and promised to not sing again. Dream just shook his head, and said "Do not deny yourself the joy of music, for I once too knew it and reveled in it."
As their relationship progressed, Dream allowed Hob more agency in the Dreaming. They'd meet every night, sit together in the library, watch the magical sunsets of the Realm of Dreams and Nightmares, and Hob would sing him lullabies and love songs, kiss the tears away from Dream's cheeks much like he'd done that first time, and let the salty taste of them accompany his lips down to Dream's own.
Dream loved to hear Hob sing. He was talented beyond belief, and it felt like a curse lifted, a gift from the Creator themselves bestowed upon a very undeserving Dream of The Endless, to love one who sang as sweetly as a songbird. Dream began to enjoy music again, to actively seek it out. He'd buy Hob records in the Waking, or pluck brand new compositions from Hob's favourite (living) musicians to gift Hob in the Dreaming, only to hear Hob's rendition of his own favourite tunes. Anything could sound good in that voice. It was the voice that made the music bearable.
That was, until one Christmas party at the New Inn.
Hob (and everyone else, really) had already downed quite a few drinks. Dream was a little tipsy himself, which wasn't entirely uncommon, but was very confused by Hob's hesitance to join his friends, who were all belting out to, with questionable skill, even more questionable music. "I can sing to you later, duck." "I really shouldn't." "no one likes actual singers doing karaoke". Dream was not convinced. In fact, he had the feeling Hob was lying to him.
"Do not deny yourself the joy of music, for I have now found it again through you, and do not wish to lose it again."
And so, Hob had no choice but to sing.
He walked up to the little makeshift stage they had crafted specially for the Christmas get together, grabbing the microphone like he was on his way to being hanged for shagging the prince of England. He found a song that he was sure he wouldn't completely butcher, and as all of his friends cheered him on, and Dream smiled one of his rare smiles saved only for Hob's eyes, he let out a sigh.
"...y..YooUuu'vE GooT A FrrieeenD IN Meee."
Dream wasn't sure what exactly he was feeling.
He only then understood Hob's hesitance, the way his face seemed to scrunch up in painful agony as he belted out the notes, afraid of disappointing Dream. Matthew was perched on his shoulder, trying his best not to let out a very human laugh out, hiding his beak against the lapel of Dream's trenchcoat. He almost wanted to laugh, but not at Hob, never at him. At the situation. At the voice Hob's brain had crafted only for Dream's ears. At how now, because of Dream, Hob felt uncomfortable with his own skills.
"t..thERE Isn'T A-AnytHINg I WOuldn't dOOoo f-fOR YooU.."
So Dream stood from his seat, to the surprise of Matthew and of all others in attendance, and joined Hob on stage. He grabbed the other microphone, showing Hob a gentle smile, before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. And so, his voice soared out of the speakers, a full, near baritone croon, but Hob knew it was meant only for him.
"Some other folks might be
A little bit smarter than I am
Bigger and stronger too
Maybe
But none of them will ever love you
The way I do
It's me and you, boy."
Dream kissed Hob again, to the sound of aaaws and cheering and clapping. "I'll love to hear you sing later when we're in bed." He whispered into Hob's ear, but perhaps a little too close to the microphone. Perhaps, he'd done it on purpose.
And that's the story of how Dream of The Endless got his singing voice back. A true Christmas Miracle, if you ask Hob.