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The first thing Hob noticed when he entered his apartment was the smell of burnt food and the second was a kind of mist coming from the kitchen.
He dropped his things and hurried into the kitchen.
When he arrived, he took stock of the situation and tried not to laugh as he watched his lover trying to put out the fire coming from the frying pan.
Slipping between Dream and the frying pan, Hob grabbed the spatula from his hands and said, "Dream, let me!"
Reluctantly and sulkily, Dream took a step back.
Hob could feel his gaze on him as he first covered the pan to smother the flames and then stirred the few pieces of chicken that could be saved with any luck.
When Dream rested his elbows on the counter next to him, it was impossible for Hob to fight the slight smile that formed on his lips.
He asked him gently as he pointed to a shelf, "Would you hand me that little bottle of spice over there? "
Dream grabbed the spices and, still sulking, handed the small container to Hob, grumbling, "I suppose you add that to hide the burnt taste?"
Hob pecked his pouty lips, nodded, then sprinkled the spices generously over the rest of the chicken and stirred it carefully. "Yes. A touch of this stuff and your food will taste delicious."
"Okay..." Dream sighed before setting the table.
"Here..." Hob placed the steaming dish on the table and served them two plates. He sat down across from Dream and they began to eat, Hob talking excitedly about his day as usual.
After a few moments, however, Hob noticed that Dream was not his usual self and asked, "Hey, what's wrong?"
Dream abruptly put down his fork, "What's wrong is that I wanted to do something for you, prepare the meal, but I messed it up and on top of that Mr. "I always save the situation" comes in as always to save the day and make me feel even more like a loser. Dream stood up, pushed back his chair and left the kitchen, slamming the door in front of a completely stunned Hob.
Hob muttered, "What an idiot, when will I learn?"
He had been insensitive and, thinking he was doing the right thing, had made Dream feel inadequate. He ran his hands over his face. He would have to repair the damage. He got up and made his way to their bedroom, where he was sure Dream would be.
When he got to the bedroom he saw him sitting in the middle of the bed with his arms wrapped around his legs.
He climbed up to stand in front of him, "Hey Dream, I'm sorry.
Dream, his expression stubborn, didn't answer.
"I'm sorry I made you feel like that. You said you felt like a loser, but I assure you that's not how I see you. Dream, you've never cooked in your life and you wanted to surprise me with a meal without any magic or power. Can you imagine how happy that makes me?"
He saw Dream relax a bit, but the Lord of Dreams still wouldn't look at him.
Hob insisted, "Dream, won't you look at me? "He put his hand on his arm, "I'm really sorry. I really didn't mean to hurt you like that."
Dream looked up and, seeing his distressed look, he pulled him into his arms, relieved to see that Dream let him.
He whispered into his hair, "You know, I'm really proud of you."
Dream murmured against his chest, "Proud of what? Proud that I burned the chicken? "
Hob laughed softly, "No, I'm proud of you for trying to fit into this ordinary life when you don't have to. I know it's not easy."
"I'm a failure," Dream whispered against his chest.
"Because of a burnt chicken? Then half the population of the universe is a failure. Darling, that's part of the learning curve when you start cooking. I assure you, my culinary debut was no better. So believe me when I say I'm proud of you."
He grabbed Dream's chin and pressed his lips gently against his lover's until Dream finally let himself be softened and opened his lips to welcome him. Hob deepened the kiss, pouring into it all the love and pride he felt for his Lord of Dreams, who had chosen to live as a human for him.