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They stumbled to their bedroom door and Dream muttered, "That's the last time I let you drink that much."
Hob brought his lips to Dream's and whispered, "I barely drank, I'm just drunk on you, honey."
Dream chuckled softly, "You are such a flirt when you are drunk."
Hob winked at him and replied seductively, "And, does it work?"
"Hmmm I don't know," Dream replied in a playful tone, "Continue."
Hob wrapped his arms around Dream's neck and breathed against Dream's lips, "Kiss me...".
He had barely spoken the words when Dream pinned him against the door and replied, "You better remember that tomorrow." before pressing his mouth against Hob's.
Dream didn't know if it was because Hob's mouth tasted like sweet wine, but the sensations were intoxicating.
It was agonizingly sweet. Every touch of his lips was like an explosion of passion and Dream didn't want it to stop.
He moved back to catch his breath.
He watched, amused, as Hob licked his lips when suddenly he whispered mischievously, "I'll remember tomorrow, sweetheart. Believe me, I'll never forget the day I, a mere human, tricked the lord of dreams."
At Dream's stunned look, Hob chuckled softly and, pulling him by the flaps of his black coat, pulled him into their room, whispering, "But don't let that stop you from continuing what you started."
Dream, bewitched, knew at that moment that the drunken feeling had nothing to do with alcohol, but everything to do with Hob.
He was the one who was drunk.
Drunk with this man who kept surprising him, again and again.
Drunk with his smile, his eyes, his voice, his mouth.
Drunk with his love.
If this was what it meant to be drunk, then Dream never wanted to be sober again.