Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“And do not even dare to dream about mating, Lord Gadling!”

The door slammed shut behind Hob’s newlywed husband with a loud thud, leaving the alpha gaping outside.

“Fuck,” Hob muttered, rubbing his temple.

And fuck indeed. That wasn’t the way he had dreamed of spending his wedding night. Of course, he also never dreamed about entering an arranged marriage solely for the money, but back then, he was just a young man with a romantic soul, not a debt-ridden ex-soldier.

It seemed too good to be true, anyway. The illustrious Endless family offered up their breathtakingly beautiful second eldest for marriage, the deal sweetened by a dowry that would pay off any and all debts Hob had. and still ensured that the couple could lead a comfortable life and provide for any future pups. Of course, Morpheus Endless wasn’t the same catch he had been a month ago, or Hob would have never even been introduced to him. But following the public scandal with Lord Cauchemar, no self-respecting Alpha would even look Morpeus’ way. Good thing Hob wasn’t a regular Alpha, and anyways, beggars can’t be choosers, and it wasn’t as if he came to this marriage pure as snow. He had a few medals from the war, and a good reputation, but no money or prospects. He served with the youngest Endless boy during the war, who put in a good word for him, and soon he found himself being approached by Lord Endless with an offer he couldn’t refuse.

And now here he was, locked outside of what was supposed to be their room. If he listened real close, he could swear he heard sobbing, the next moment it was gone, and only silence remained. Fuck. Hob was a good soldier, he knew when to retreat, so he left Morpheus’ suite, returning to his room, but not before he grabbed a bottle of whisky from the lounge. Drinking himself silly on his wedding night, well, wasn’t that just the most romantic thing in the world. When he was young and naive, he used to dream about true love, about finding an Omega and falling in love at first sight, at first scent, knowing they were just right for each other. He thought that’s what happened between Eleanor and him, but after months of courting the woman said no when Hob asked for her hand.

“I have to think of my future,” she had said. “Where would we live? How would we raise our children? And my parents don’t approve of you either. They say your name’s not good enough.”

Driven by grief and heartbreak, Hob joined the army, hoping to make a name for himself, and he did. A name and money both, but when he returned Eleanor was already married with two pups. And luck didn’t favor him for long. Whatever he had invested in seemed to wither under his touch, and soon there was no money left.

Well, now you have money, Hob, he thought, taking a swig straight from the bottle. Money and a husband. Are you happy? Huh?

He couldn't blame Morpheus for hating him, not really. He would hate himself in his place too. A knothead Alpha, who cared more about money than honor, that’s him. Well like it or not, they were married now. For better, for worse and there was no taking back their vows, not when they were both chained down, Hob by the money and Morpheus by the expectation to protect the last shreds of his and his family’s reputation. Hob drank another sip. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would fix things.

Hob sat at the breakfast table with a throbbing headache, nauseous by even the thought of food, but unwilling to miss the meal and make Morpheus believe he was avoiding him. The Omega didn’t seem to appreciate his efforts, as he sat on the other end of the table, chilly as a block of ice, answering Hob’s polite questions with one-worded sentences.

“I was thinking we could go into the city tomorrow,” Hob said, buttering a toast he had no intention of eating. “I only purchased this house recently and hadn’t had much time to decorate. Perhaps you could choose some things to brighten up our home?” he offered.

The look Morpheus gave him was filled with resentment.

“Is that what you would wish me to do?” he asked, and Hob’s head snapped up at getting an actual sentence out of his mate.

“Well if it would please you...”

“You dare to presume that that’ll be my purpose in your home, a willing mate, buying flowers and satins, bearing pups and looking pretty all the time for you?” Dream’s hand tightened on the butter knife so much his knuckles turned white.

He has beautiful hands, Hob thought dumbly. Long, elegant fingers. Fit for a painting, really.

“No! I just thought a trip to the city would make you happy.”

“You presume I wish to see others gawking at me right after this humiliating arrangement took place? After having to marry a man such as you?”

Humiliating. That hurt, the knowledge that Morpheus saw him, their marriage as a humiliation. Anger flared up in Hob, and a low growl escaped his mouth. Instead of looking afraid or chastised, Morpheus looked almost satisfied at the reaction.

“Does that anger you, husband?” he spat the word like it was poison. “Do you assume I should be grateful to you for taking me as your mate? For generously accepting the blood money from my parents?”

Hob swallowed, looking for the right words. Morpheus had every right to be angry, he reminded himself, willing his anger away.

“I don’t deny that our marriage could have started more...favourably. But can’t we at least be civil to each other? Give an honest chance to this whole ordeal?”

He wasn’t going to beg Morpheus, he still had some pride left after all. But he hoped the Omega saw the honesty in his words, saw the desire to get along.

But no, apparently Morpheus couldn’t notice any of that, as he slammed his knife on the table and stood up.

“You can pretend all you want, Lord Gadling,” he said. “But I know what you really are. A money-hungry Alpha who thinks themselves my better. And I have no intention of playing the role you wish to cast me in.”

And he stormed off. Hob let out a sigh, burying his throbbing head in his palms. Fuck.

Chapter Text

Hob elbowed on the barpult of the White Horse, taking another swing from his beer. He was fairly drunk by now, yet he had no intention of heading home just yet. After all, what was there to go home to? An angry omega, whose spite he fully deserved? Glares from across the room, one-worded answers, and a refusal to even look him in the eye?

For the past few weeks, Hob did everything in his power to placate Morpheus. He bought gifts, he tried to initiate conversations, show interests in the Omega’s hobbies, assure him that he wouldn’t pressure mating or having pups as long as Morpheus opposed it, but to no avail. The other man was as angry as ever, and living with him was becoming quite exhausting if Hob was being honest. So when a couple of his old comrades invited him to go drinking at the White Horse, he happily accepted.

Now, well past midnight, all of them had said their goodbyes and returned home, but Hob didn’t want to leave just yet. So he ordered round after round, trying to drink away the bitterness that followed him around ever since the wedding.

“What's a handsome Alpha such as yourself doing drinking all alone?” a seductive voice purred right next to him.

Hob looked up, taking in the incredibly good-looking stranger in front of him. He wasn’t sure if they were a man or a woman. They wore a suit, the chemise hanging open, revealing their creamy white chest, but their face was painted like a woman’s, and they were adorned with jewelry. Hob sniffed the air, but their scent was just as confusing as their appearance. They weren’t a beta, as they definitely had a scent, but it was an alluring mixture of an Omega’s floral sweetness and Alpha musk. The person was a mystery, a very beautiful one, but nonetheless, a mystery.

“Cat got your tongue?” they teased.

“Oh, well, yes, drinking alone,” Hob spluttered. “My friends had left early, and I stayed for a couple of rounds.”

“Lucky me,” the person smiled, flashing their white teeth behind the crimson lips. “I got you all to myself.”

Hob swallowed. They were really attractive, he couldn’t refute that, and he hadn’t had a good shag in ages, yet it felt wrong to flirt back, like he was disrespecting Morpheus.

“I’m married,” he smiled apologetically.

“Not happily, I hope,” the stranger's smile didn’t dim at all.

“No,” Hob admitted with a sigh, taking another sip from his drink. “I may have...made a mistake against them when we got married, and my husband is still angry about it. I have no idea how to make it right.”

“Well, in my experience, a good fuck can make a lot of things better,” they placed their hand on Hob’s tight and he could feel his cock twitch in his trousers.

The person’s scent was intoxicating, and Hob really wanted to fuck them or get fucked, and forget all his troubles for the night. Still, something was hesitating in him.

“I...I want to fix things with him.”

“Well, maybe you should try sticking your knot in him. It might work.”

“He doesn’t want to mate,” Hob sighed.

It was pathetic, admitting this to some random stranger in a bar, but the words were leaving his lips without much thought due to the alcohol.

“You’re his Alpha, not like you can’t just make him,” they quirked an eyebrow.

“That wouldn’t be right,” Hob shook his head. “We both got into this marriage for the wrong reasons, but I actually like him, you know? I can imagine loving him. And if we mate, I want it to happen because he wants it too.”

It was true, he knew as soon as he said it. Although Morpheus did everything in his power to make Hob dislike him, Hob still saw glimpses of who the omega really was, and couldn’t help but adore it. The way he spent hours in the garden, feeding the birds, and instructed the gardener to build small wooden nesting places for them. How smart he was, always reading books whose titles Hob barely understood, and when his Sister Death visited, they would converse about the matters of politics, philosophy, and religion for hours. Hob eavesdropped, yes, and even if he wasn’t an expert on the matters, it was clear to him how passionate Morpheus was. And he clearly loved his sister, sending pages-long letters to her every week, and urging her to visit as often as she could. That was the only thing he had asked of Hob: that he allow Death to visit their home, and he could tell it caused him a great deal of discomfort to ask for anything at all. Of course, he said yes, and Morpheus didn't thank him, but it was alright. Once he caught him playing the piano, a sweet, sad tune. He immediately slammed the instrument shut when he noticed Hob standing in the door, but he listened long enough to know that Morpheus was a talented musician. Oh, and his scent, that perfect mixture of a pouring storm, with a hint of the lightning’s electricity and the dreamy lilac scent. Hob just wanted to bury his nose in Morpheus’ neck and stay there forever.

“What, you’re saying you would stay faithful to an Omega who won’t even sleep with you?” they scoffed. “Are you sure they’re worth it?”

“I hope so,” Hob sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, but I should really go.”

“Well, goodbye then, stranger,” they petted his thigh one last time before getting up and walking away.

Hob emptied his glass and signaled the bartender that he was ready to pay. Part of him already regretted refusing the gorgeous person, but another, bigger part of him ached to be at home with Morpheus.

The driver gave him a worried look as he climbed inside the carriage and instructed him to drive him home. He had to be helped out of the carriage once there, but he shooed the driver away, staggering inside by himself. He collapsed on the sofa in the dining room, ready to fall asleep, when a voice spoke up from the other side of the room.

“I see you have returned safely.”

“Morpheus,” Hob tried to sit up and failed at first, but finally managed to get himself in an upright position.

His husband was sitting by the window, book in lap, only in a banian.

The sight did something to Hob’s inner Alpha, so domestic and soft. But a look at Morpheus’ face was enough to see that the Omega was pissed.

“Forgive me,” he slurred. “I stayed out later than I intended to.”

“You mean you drank yourself blind. It is a miracle no one robbed and left you in a ditch to die in your state,” Morpheus sneered.

“Did you worry about me?” Hob asked with a lopsided smile.

“As if,” Morpheus scoffed, getting up. “It is only that you passing so soon after our wedding would reflect badly on me.”

“That’s sweet of you, worrying and waiting up for me. You’re really nice when you want to be,” Hob mumbled, the alcohol loosening his tongue. “I wish you were nicer all the time, despite my fuck ups.”

Morpheus shot him a glare, but it seemed half-hearted at best.

“I will retire now, that I am sure you are alive. I hope you will be presentable tomorrow for church.”

Hob collapsed back on the sofa, mumbling something as an answer. The last thing he remembered was someone draping a blanket over him before he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Hob sat at the table, thrumming his fingers impatiently on the table. The clock ticked well past seven thirty.

“Shall I start serving dinner, Lord Gadling?” Lucienne, the beta butler, asked.

“Where’s my husband? I don’t want to start without him.”

Despite their tense relationship, Morpheus always showed up to every meal. Sure, he mostly spent them glaring at Hob, and barely speaking, but at least he was there. But not today, and that made Hob worried.

“Last I saw, Lord Gadling went to the garden, but that was hours ago. Shall I send someone to look for him?”

“No need,” Hob pushed his chair back, standing up. “I’ll find him myself.”

The garden, Lucienne had said. Surely Morpheus wasn’t there anymore, seeing that it had started raining a good fifteen minutes ago. Perhaps in his room? But no, as Hob combed through the house, he couldn’t find the omega anywhere, and his scent was too faint for him to have recently been there. So that left the garden. With a sigh, Hob pulled his coat tight around himself and walked into the rain. The cold rain was beating down on him mercilessly, but he wasn’t giving up that easily. He almost missed Morpheus, his black coat and night black hair fading into the curtain of rain. But Hob couldn’t miss that sweet smell, not even through the rain. He was crouching on the ground in front of a bush.

“Morpheus!” he called out. “Are you well? What are you doing in this weather?”

“Quiet!” Morpheus commended, hushing Hob.

“What-” but then Hob saw it.

There was a bird under the bush. A crow, no, a raven. But why on Earth were they out in the rain? Hob crouched down next to Morpheus, ignoring the mud sticking to his coat.

“What is this little fella doing here in such weather?” he asked in a low tone.

“I presume his wing is injured,” Morpheus said softly, his eyes never leaving the bird. “I have been trying to get him to come to me, but was unsuccessful.”

“You’re gonna get sick if you stay out here much longer.”

Morpheus ignored him, extending his hand to the raven, but the bird just took a little hop back, unsure about the two humans.

“Stay here, and keep his attention,” Hob sighed, resigning himself to catching the stupid bird or never returning inside.

He circled the bush as quietly as he could, trying to stay out of the bird’s range of view. Meanwhile, Morpheus kept talking to it in a quiet rumbling voice, keeping its attention on himself. Hob seized the right moment and threw himself at the raven. He managed to catch it between his hands without squishing it and kept holding on despite the screeching and flapping.

“Got him,” Hob grinned at Morpheus.

They rushed inside, only stopping once in the living room. Lucienne stared at them with wide eyes. They must’ve made quite the view, both dripping water all over the carpet, Hob’s coat and face covered in mud from his heroic jump, and the raven still screeching.

“Bring us some gaze, please, Lucienne. We’ll be in my husband’s room,” Hob said.

“And perhaps some towels too, my lord,” Lucienne added, disapproval clear in her voice, but she still hurried away.

“Let’s get this little fella somewhere warm,” Hob said, sitting down in front of the fireplace in Morpheus’ room.

He carefully examined the raven while his husband watched from the side.

“He is hurt. I can hear the pain in his croaks,” Morpheus stepped closer, brushing the bird’s head with a single finger.

From up close, Morpheus smelled heavenly, and Hob could barely concentrate on the raven.

“What is your opinion?”

“Hmm? Oh yes, the raven. Well, he’s definitely got a broken wing, but nothing a little gaze and time won’t solve.”

As if on a clue, Lucienne entered the room holding the gaze and towels.

“Here you go, my Lord.”

“Thank you, Lucienne. Could you help my husband change? I’ll do the same shortly, but I have to take care of our little patient.”

“I am not going anywhere,” Morpheus said stubbornly.

“You’ll get sick if you stay in these wet clothes for long.”

“So will you. Or is it because I am a weak Omega that you assume I will get sick?”

There it was, the usual spite in Morpheus’ voice. Hob sighed in surrender.

“Stay then. But don’t blame me if you get a cold, oh strong and mighty omega.”

Morpheus opened his mouth to react, but the raven croaked in pain once again as Hob tried to stabilize his wing.

“Could you hold him for me like this? I need him still.”

Morpheus took the raven, gently as if he were lifting a baby. The raven immediately quieted down, snuggling close to the omega.

“Huh. He seems to like you.”

“Perhaps he can just sense good company.”

“Was that a joke?” Hob laughed, amused.

He carefully wrapped the bandage around the bird’s body, securing the injured wing.

"There, all better. They will need some rest, though. And food. Seeds perhaps?"

"And meat. They usually prefer beef or chicken. And perhaps some eggs as well."

"You seem to know a lot about ravens."

"I had one, once upon a time," Morpheus recalled, carding his fingers through the bird's feathers. "Jessamy. She was the kindest company one could wish for. The son of a family friend shot her. Claimed it was a hunting accident, but ravens can hardly be mistaken for pheasants."

There was still some pain in his voice, pain Hob desperately wanted gone.

"He should be yours then, at least until he recovers. What would you name him?"

Morpheus looked at the raven for a few long moments, as if expecting it to introduce themselves.

"Matthew," he decided finally. "I shall call him Matthew."

"Good choice," Hob grinned. "Did you know there was a king named after ravens? Matthew...no, Mathias Corvinus. Had a raven painted on all his books, and on his banner. I'm sure Matthew himself is royalty, too. Could fit right on a banner."

Matthew cawed, as if in agreement, and a small smile crept on Morpheus' face.

"You seem to know a lot about history," he exclaimed.

"Always found it fascinating," Hob shrugged. "I haven't got a drop of royal blood, but wanted to know everything about queens and kings ever since I was a little pup. For example, there's -"

Hob's tirade was interrupted by a loud sneeze from his husband. Hob immediately felt guilty that he had forgotten about Morpheus' soaked clothes.

"Perhaps you should change. I mean, we should both change. Unless we wish to succumb to some terrible illness and leave poor Matthew to fend for himself."

Morpheus gave an amused look to the alpha as he stood up.

"I'll leave you to it. I'll tell Lucienne to bring some meat for Matthew. Will that be alright, Morpheus?"

The omega nodded, but as Hob was about to leave, he called after him.

"You may call me Dream," he said, as if offering a precious boon, and to Hob, it was exactly that.

"Dream?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Dream," the omega repeated.

"Very well, Dream. Will you join me for lunch once you're dry?"

The omega nodded, and Hob smiled brightly at him.

Matthew was recovering well. Still, Hob found the raven a good excuse to visit Morpheus' -, no, Dream's rooms, and inquire about the bird's well-being. And, to his joy, the omega didn't seem to mind. Once they'd discussed how Matthew was feeling for the day, they would venture into different topics, such as history and literature, conversations Hob thoroughly enjoyed.

Things seemed to be looking up for them when Dream's sister, Death, visited a week after they had acquired Matthew. Hob briefly greeted her, then retreated to the garden to allow her and Dream to chat privately. He only returned to the house when Lucienne let him know that tea was prepared. He walked to the library to call their guest to the drawing room, but stopped short when he found the door of the library open, voices coming out. Hob knew that eavesdropping was considered impolite, he really did, but he couldn't overcome his curiosity. So he inched closer to the door, listening to the siblings talking.

"And how has your husband been to you these past weeks?" Death asked, worry clear in her voice.

"He has been...tolerable," came Dream's hesitant reply.

"Tolerable? That's the most positive thing you've said about him so far, brother. Tell me, what did he do to deserve such praise?"

"Nothing. It is merely that his presence has been more agreeable lately."

"That's good to hear. I worry about you, you know. How about the issue of...mating? Has he - ?"

"No," Dream cut in harshly. "We did not mate."

"And how does Lord Gadling fare with your refusal?"

"He has not brought it up since our wedding night."

"Really? That's...unexpected. Not many alphas would be content with not mating their spouse."

"What do you wish to say, sister?" There was barely restrained anger in Dream's voice.

"I'm merely saying that Lord Gadling doesn't seem like the worst partner you could've ended up with. Perhaps you should give this marriage a chance."

"He married me for our family's money!" Dream growled, and Hob involuntarily took a step back.

"Yes," Death allowed. "Not the most gentlemanly thing, I'll admit that. But sooner or later, someone would've taken the deal, and Father would've made you marry them. All I'm saying is, Lord Gadling doesn't seem to be the worst option."

"I will not pretend this marriage is anything more than a business deal!" the omega hissed.

"Oh, Dream. You're clinging on to your anger so tightly, you're not even allowing yourself a chance at being happy."

"That is enough, sister. I do not require your advice or your pity."

"Dream, I - "

Hob decides that he has heard enough, pushing the door open with purposeful noise.

"Tea is served," he announced with forced cheerfulness. "If you would join me in the drawing room."

Dream stormed out of the room, not even sparing a glance at Hob, and Death followed him with an apologetic smile on her lips. Hob closed the library door with a sigh and walked to the drawing room as if walking into a battle.

Chapter Text

Hob had hoped they could smooth things over with Dream the next day. But to his dismay, the omega didn't show up at breakfast.

"Could you go ask my husband to join me, Lucienne?"

But the beta didn't move, fidgeting anxiously.

"Lord Gadling isn't feeling well, my Lord. He had asked to be excused from breakfast."

"I should check on him," Hob immediately stood up, worried, but Lucienne stopped him.

"Lord Gadling didn't want me to tell you this... But I suppose you'll find out anyway. He's in heat, sir."

"Heat?" Hob repeated stupidly.

Of course Dream was in heat, he should've expected it to happen rather sooner than later. They've been married for over three months, a heat was long overdue.

"Is he alright? Does he have everything he needs? I should've prepared for this. I-"

"Everything is perfectly well, my Lord. I'll make sure Lord Gadling has everything he needs," Lucienne reassured him. "Perhaps if you wish to visit his rooms..."

"Oh, no, no. It's better if I don't go near him. Just...make sure he's alright," Hob finished awkwardly.

He knew what the servants must have thought about them. It was evident they weren't sharing a bed on normal days, but it was highly unusual for a married alpha not to attend to his omega's needs during heat.

And God knows, Hob wanted to be there for Dream. Just the thought of him suffering all alone, without Hob there to take care of him, was almost too much. His inner Alpha screamed at him to mate his omega, to take care of him, make sure he's healthy and happy. But Dream didn't want Hob there, so he wasn't going to bother him.

The three days of Dream's heat passed agonisingly slowly. Hob worried himself sick over his husband, no matter how many times Lucienne assured him that Dream was fine. He had Matthew taken to his room, knowing full well that Dream would kill him if he didn't take proper care of the raven. But Matthew seemed to be missing his master, his appetite gone as he hopped near the door every chance he got, croaking impatiently. And Hob could understand the little raven: he, too, missed Dream's presence.

On the third day, the butler informed him that Dream's heat was over.

"But Lord Gadling is still fairly weak, so I suggested he take his meals in his room."

"Please, give the tray to me, I'll bring it to him."

The curtains were drawn in Dream's room, the omega's sweet scent even stronger than usual. But there was a faint, sickly smell under it that had Hob scrunching his nose.

"Dream, are you well?" He called out. "I've brought you some breakfast.”

Only a small groan came from the bed as an answer, and Hob’s worry spiked.

“I’m gonna open one curtain, okay, duck?”

The endearment slipped his lips without much thought. As he let in some sunlight, he could see Dream better. It wasn't a pretty picture. The omega was even paler than usual, small beads of sweat running down his face and neck. His black hair was a disgruntled mess, and he was buried under several blankets, yet still shivering.

“You don't look too well,” Hob exclaimed.

“What a splendid observation,” Dream croaked, but his voice was raspy.

“Here, drink some water.”

Hob helped him sit up, holding the glass to Dream's lips. Maybe he was overdoing it, after all, Dream was still capable of drinking on his own, but Hob’s alpha ached to take care of the omega.

“You’re burning up,” he said, touching Dream’s forehead. “Is it always like this after your heats?”

Dream shook his head, easing himself back on the pillows.

“You need not to worry. I will recover soon,” he said, but didn't sound convincing at all.

“Maybe we should send for the doctor,” Hob suggested, but Dream shook his head vehemently.

“There is no need.”

“Well, we can wait a bit and see if you get better, I suppose. I could stick around a bit and entertain you.”

Before Dream could object, Hob jumped up, rushing towards the door.

“Oh, and someone wants to see you! I’ll be back in a minute!”

He returned with Matthew on his arms. The raven croaked excitedly at the sight of Dream, trying and failing to flap his bound wings. Hob places him on top of the blanket, and the bird hopped over to Dream's head, gently nipping at his unruly hair before snuggling up under the omega’s chin. Dream ran his fingers through Matthew’s feathers, scratching his head, and Hob’s never been so jealous of a bird.

“He was missing you terribly.”

And so was I, Hob thought, but didn't say it loudly. Instead, he grabbed the book from Dream's bedside and opened it up at the marked pages, sitting next to the bed.

“Shakespeare’s genius lies in the characterisation of Violet and Sebastian...” He began to read.

He read aloud from the analogy of Shakespeare's plays by Lady Merrymen, occasionally interjecting his own opinions. Hob was never a fan of Shakespeare, but for Dream's sake, he suffered through hours of reading. He only stopped to make sure the omega ate a few bites, or drank some water, or he called in Lucienne for another cold compress. But despite his best efforts, Dream's fever had gotten worse by afternoon. So, against his husband’s protests, Hob sent for the doctor. Maybe he was just an overworrying knothead, but he needed to know that Dream was going to be fine.

The doctor arrived just before dinner, and Lucienne led him straight to Dream's room.

“Doctor Brown, thank you for coming,” Hob extended his hand in greeting.

“Lord Gadling,” the old beta croaked. “I was told your husband had taken ill.”

“Yes, his heat ended last night, but he has been suffering from a fever ever since.”

“I see,” the doctor mumbled, walking over to the bed and taking Dream's hand in his, looking for the pulse. “And how did his heat go? Anything unusual?”

Hob blushed and stammered, knowing full well how strange their situation was, but not wanting to lie to the doctor.

“Uhm, I didn't... We didn't...My husband’d spent his heat alone.”

The doctor’s eyebrows rose so high they almost flew off his face.

“I see...” He said. “Well, I’ll examine Lord Gadling, see what might be the issue. If you would, my lord...”

“Of course,” Hob hurried to step outside for the examination.

The examination didn't last long, but Hob paced up and down anxiously the whole time. Finally, Doctor Brown called him in.

“It seems to me that your husband had experienced an unusually intense heat,” he explained, while putting his tools away. “Being in the constant presence of an unmated alpha whom his body views as a potential mate without...hmmm... actually mating, seems to have triggered a strong heat.”

The doctor didn't address Dream at all, instead talking directly to Hob. The omega slid even further into his bed, clearly bothered by the conversation.

“Due to the extremeness of the heat, his body was left weak and susceptible to illness, that's why he’s experiencing the fever and other symptoms.”

“What should we do?” Hob asked, concerned.

He was feeling more than a little guilt. If he could’ve won Dream's affections sooner, like a proper alpha would have done, they would’ve spent the heat together, and Dream would be all right now.

“Obviously, I would recommend spending his next heat together, or this might happen again.”

“No,” Dream's voice was weak but stubborn.

“Lord Gadling?” the doctor asked, pointedly looking at Hob while ignoring Dream.

“Is there another way around it if we do not wish to share heats?” Hob asked with a sigh.

He wasn't going to lie, it stung that Dream would rather be sick than share a heat.

“If you don't wish to bed him, you could always get a divorce,” the doctor suggested “It seems like your omega is rather...unruly...”

“My husband,” Hob snapped at the doctor, furious, “Is the best I could wish for. So keep your opinion to yourself, and tell us how to treat him.”

The beta probably wasn’t expecting such fury from him, as he immediately backed off.

“I didn’t mean any offense, my Lord. I’ll go and retrieve some medicine for Lord Gadling, please wait here.”

He gave instructions on how much medicine to take and suggested bed rest for a couple of days.

“If your situation doesn’t...resolve before his next heat, send someone to me and I can provide Lord Gadling with some herbs and drops that’ll help strengthen his body for the heat.”

“We’ll do that. Lucienne, please see the doctor out.”

As soon as the beta was gone, Hob sat down on the side of the bed, apologising profusely.

“I’m sorry, Dream, he was a right asshole. Next time we’ll send for a different doctor.”

“Your concern is. Unnecessary.” Dream mumbled, but he seemed pleased with Hob’s reaction nonetheless.

“Well, the man might be an asshole, but let’s hope his medicine works at least. I’ll mix three drops of this in your water, please drink it.”

“You need not to play nursemaid for me.”

“You’re my husband. In sickness and in health, no?”

“You married me for my money, and I married you to save my reputation. We have no further obligations to each other.”

Dream said it so simply, as if it were just a fact. Hob supposed it might have been for the omega, but not for him, not anymore. But how could he even begin to explain that?

“Well, those vows mean something to me. And I like you, husband or not. I don’t want to see you ill. So why don’t you drink this, and then we can go back to suffering through Shakespeare’s idiocracy?”

Dream looked confused by Hob’s admission, but accepted the drink nonetheless, and then settled back on his pillows as Hob opened the book up. It was something, at least, that he was not arguing back,  Hob thought as he began to read. And that’s all he could hope for right now.

Chapter Text

Hob and Dream were sitting in the garden, admiring the blooming flowers. Matthew rested on Dream's shoulder, occasionally pecking at the top of his head, demanding treats or a scratch, which Dream didn't seem to mind giving. Doctor Teglas' medicine did work wonders, getting the omega back on his feet within a few days. Still, Hob worried over him, but he supposed some time outside in the sunshine wouldn't hurt. He knew he was being an overbearing asshole, but seeing Dream so weak stirred some hidden protectiveness inside him he wasn't even aware of. Lucienne approached them with a tray of letters in hand.

"This is for you, my lord," she handed most of the stack to Hob. "And these came for you, Lord Gadling," she addressed Dream.

Hob quickly sorted through the letters, opening some and running his eyes through them. Business was good. He was foolish and inexperienced when he started investing after the war, and by the time he learned from his mistakes, it was too late, and he was heavily in debt, desperately trying to stay afloat, yet drowning. The printing house, his pride and joy, threatened to crumble, on the verge of being sold to pay off debtors. Hob would've hated to see it go to ruin, to let down all his employees, having to fire them. But the dowry saved the printing house, and now, three months after the wedding, it was flourishing, so Hob decided to be cautiously optimistic. He wanted to share the news with Dream, but worried his husband would be offended at the mention of his dowry. When Hob looked up at Dream, trying to gauge his mood, he saw that the omega's face darkened as he read one of the letters.

"Bad news?" Hob asked, hoping no one died.

"Some of my siblings wish to visit," Dream lowered the letter with a sigh.

"You don't seem too happy about it."

Dream's lips pressed into a thin line, frustration clear on his face.

"Desire and I. Do not get along well."

Hob tried to wreck his brain about which one of the Endless siblings Desire was, but couldn't come up with an answer. There were simply too many of them, and he only met Death and Destiny at the wedding, as far as he recalled.

"We don't have to invite them if you would rather not see them."

"They have already invited themselves," Dream scoffed. "They are coming tomorrow for tea, and I doubt there is much we can do to stop them. Desire does as they please."

"How about the others?"

"Despair is Desire's twin. She is...more tolerable than Desire, but tends to follow her twin's lead. Then there is Delirium," a small smile appeared on Dream's face. "She is the youngest of us. I am...fond of her."

"Well, at least one out of the three should be tolerable then," Hob smiled, trying to lift the mood. "And I'm sure we can deal with the rest."

Dream shook his head, clearly still unhappy.

"Desire is coming to gloat at my failed marriage."

Ouch. That hurt. It must have shown on Hob's face, because Dream immediately added:

"I do not mean. I am not complaining. It is only that Desire is aware of my past wishes for a marriage, that is. More than convenience. She was delighted that I had been sold. And now she wishes to see me miserable."

Despite never meeting them, Hob already fiercely hated this Desire. What kind of prick takes pleasure in their sibling's misfortune?

"Well, we couldn't have that, can we?"

Dream raised an eyebrow, looking at Hob with confusion.

"We could pretend," Hob offered nervously.

"Pretend?"

"To be more than what we are."

Dream studies his face curiously for a while, clearly surprised by the offer.

"Why? What would you gain from that?"

"Your sibling's displeasure?" Hob shrugged. "They sound like a prick."

"Very well," Dream finally decided. "You may...lie. With moderation. Do not imply that we have slept together. The lack of a mating mark shall be obvious enough. And I do not wish for you to kiss me in front of them," he added, studying Hob's reaction to his rules as if not quite believing he would accept them.

"I can do that," Hob agreed hastily. "Believe it or not, I'm a great actor," he grinned.

"I will believe that when I see it," Dream said, doubtful.

"You'll be surprised, I promise."

Hob's plans of fooling anyone went to the trash the minute Lucienne announced their guests, and an all-too-familiar scent filled the room.

"Brother! What a joy to see you," a honeyed, sultry voice said.

A pair of golden eyes, rimmed elegantly with coal, stared at Hob, and they were smirking.

"And Lord Gadling," they purred, taking Hob's hand that was extended in a handshake and pressing a kiss on it instead. "What a pleasure to see you again."

Dream looked confused, but didn't have time to interject, as they were engulfed in a hug by a colorfully dressed redhead.

"Dreamy!" She squeaked, clearly delighted. "I wanted to bring you a gift, but I forgot what it was. I forget a lot of things. But I didn't forget about you! Desire says you're terribly unhappy with your husband, and that makes me sad, too. Is it true?"

"I am well, sister. You should not listen to Desire."

"You do seem unhappy," the third sibling said, their voice melancholic and distant. "But mostly everyone is. I don't remember a time I wasn't unhappy, and I never had to mate for reputation."

"But sister, don't you see that our dear Dream isn't mated yet?" Desire asked, pulling Dream's collar aside.

Dream swatted their hand away, but it was too late, his unmarked neck clearly in view.

"We're taking things slowly," Hob said, finally finding his voice, as he stepped up next to Dream. "There's no rush. Till death do us apart, and hopefully, that won't happen for a long, long while."

"Or you could divorce," Despair said. "A path for failed marriages and broken hearts."

"You will divorce?" Delirium interjected, her two-colored eyes watering. "I wouldn't like that, I wouldn't like that at all."

"Don't worry, little sister," Desire smiled sweetly. "Lord Gadling wouldn't ask for a divorce, not when he knows he would have to repay all that money to father. What a shame that would be."

"Good thing then, that I don't want a divorce, money or not," Hob stated. "For I'm perfectly content with our marriage."

"You heard him, sibling." Dream said. "Do not push matters anymore if you wish to stay here."

"I'm merely curious, brother. He didn't sound so fond a few months ago, drinking his worries away, babbling about how his omega won't mate him."

Hob tensed, furious at Desire yet afraid of Dream's reaction. The omega was staring between them, perplexed.

"I was not aware that you two had met."

"Oh, we did." Desire's smile turned predatory as their hand found Hob's biceps. "Almost spent a lovely evening together. A shame that Lord Gadling is so uptight about marriage and faithfulness."

"I didn't want your advances back then," Hob hissed, as he shook Desire's hand off, "And I don't need it now. You forgot to introduce yourself all those months ago, but I see now why you chose me. For some reason, you seem to delight in causing pain to your brother, who doesn't deserve a bit of it. And yes, I was a fool, a drunk fool, telling you my worries about my marriage, but don't pretend for a moment that I said anything bad about Dream or acted against my vows, because I didn't."

“And what a shame that is,” Desire purred, stepping even closer, close enough to be considered inappropriate. “I meant it, Lord Gadling. If you get bored with dear Dream here, I’m always up for a little fun.”

Before Hob could step back, Desire was suddenly yanked back by the collar, a furious Dream standing behind him. He looked like an avenging angel, cheeks red and dark eyes sparkling with anger.

“You will stay away from my husband,” he growled, the possessiveness in his voice stirring something inside Hob. “He is not yours.”

“Jealous, brother?” Desire teased, seemingly unbothered by Dream's anger. “And here I thought your marriage was a bit of a sham. Maybe I was wrong.”

“Get out!” Dream yelled. “Get out and do not dare to try to seduce my husband again! Do not even go near him!”

“I think it’s time we go, sibling,” Despair said, assessing the situation.

“But I don’t want to leave! We just got here!” Delirium pouted.

“You’re very welcome to come back another time,” Hob said, addressing Delirium. “But without your sibling,” he added, looking at Desire.

“Very well, brother. See you around,” Desire flashed one last smile before prancing out, followed by his sisters.

Once the door closed behind them, Dream turned to Hob, and there was that anger in his eyes he had feared, but betrayal too.

“You dare complain to my sibling. You dare receive their affections.”

“Dream. I didn’t cheat on you. I didn’t.”

“I had enough of your excuses,” Dream scoffed, ready to storm off, but Hob stood in his way.

“Really? You’re gonna let your sibling win? You know that this was exactly what they wanted, right? To turn us against each other?”

That made Dream hesitate, and Hob used the opportunity to continue speaking.

“Yes, I was drunk and sad about this marriage. I was angry at myself for failing you, sad that it seemed there was no way we could be even friends, that this whole marriage would be spent being miserable. But I never once blamed you for that. I blamed myself. And yes, like the idiot I’m, I said as much to a stranger at the bar. And yes, I found their interest in me flattering. But I didn’t sleep with them. Didn’t kiss them, didn’t touch them. Instead, I came home to you, and I’m still here, because...because I like you. And I want this to work. I want us to be friends. I don’t want every day of this marriage to be miserable, and I’m willing to fight for that.”

Hob paused, feeling like an idiot for such a long rant, where he said more than what he had meant to, but Dream was staring at him with wide eyes.

“You say you wish us to be friends,” the omega said finally “ That you wish this marriage to be happy. But you were paid to marry me. Surely you do not expect me to overlook that?”

“Of course not. I’ll do my best to make up for that. I know that it’s...an insult at you. And I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have been sold. It wasn’t right of your father to do it, and it wasn’t right of me to accept the offer.”

“Why did you do it?”

There was so much pain in Dream’s voice, Hob just wanted it gone.

“Honestly? I was broke. Before the military, I had no money. And after it, I had no idea how to handle it. I trusted the wrong people, made some stupid decisions and before I knew, I was up to my neck in debt. I have this publishing house you know, with employees I’m responsible for. And I adore that place. The books we publish, the people that work there... It’s not just a business for me. And I was on the verge of having to close it down, so I was desperate. Then a friend told me about you, about your situation. And at first I thought, what asshole would do that to their own kid. But then I thought more about it. About that money. I didn’t want to do it at first, didn’t want to mate someone who was forced into it.”

Hob didn’t tell Dream about the sleepless nights spent wondering if it would be worth it to give up the possibility of a love marriage for money. How he remembered Elenor, where he had the love but not the money, and how he couldn’t be there once again, flat broke and rejected.

“And I thought... if I take the deal, I could be a good husband to you. Your father was gonna make you marry one of the assholes willing to take the deal anyway, but I could be less of an asshole than the other candidates. I heard Richard Maddock was considering the deal, and I thought, better me than him.”

Dream visibly shuddered at the mention of Maddock. There were whispers about that man, about what he had done to some omega maids.

“And I know that doesn’t excuse it. But I took the deal, and you married me so here we are.”

“Here we are,” Dream echoed.

“Are we destined to be miserable?” Hob asked, stepping closer, hesitantly taking his husband’s hand.

To his relief, Dream didn’t pull away.

“I meant it, I like you. I want us to get along. Can we try? Can we be friends?”

Or more, Hob thought. Oh, how he wished they could be more. But it was too soon to say that. Dream was hesitating, but finally, he nodded.

“We shall try.”

“That’s all I want,” Hob smiled, pressing a kiss on Dream’s hand.

Chapter Text

The next few weeks passed in an unusually good mood. Matthew was slowly healing. They would take him out to the garden to practice his flight, Hob and Dream standing from a short distance from each other, waiting patiently as the raven flew from one of them to the other.

“Our son is getting better each day,” Hob stated, handing a piece of boiled egg to Matthew, which he quickly gobbled up. “Although I’m afraid without snacks as a motivation, he would just lie around all day.”

“Sounds like something he had inherited from you,” Dream smiled.

“How dare you?” Hob mock-gasped, pressing his unoccupied hand to his chest dramatically. “I’ll let you know, I’m a very energetic person. I run a reputable business, and that takes a lot of work.”

“You mean Miss Green runs a reputable business, and from time to time you pretend to supervise.”

They had visited the publishing house a week ago. Miss Rachel Green, the Beta who ran the business in Hob’s absence (and to be truthful, he had been absent more often than not lately, too busy trying to win his husband over), was delighted to meet Dream. She showed him around, explaining the whole process, and even insisted on giving him some of the unpublished manuscripts. Dream had some great insights about them, and Hob was already considering asking his husband to officially start working with him, helping to determine what got published and what was changed before printing. 

Small steps, Hob, he had to remind himself. Small steps. He didn’t want to spring too many things on Dream at once. He sat down on a bench, letting Matthew pick at his hair as he turned to Dream.

“We could go again next week, if you want. I could use your insight on the business.”

Dream gave him a curious look, like he didn’t quite believe Hob wasn’t joking. So, to prove his seriousness, Hob went on.

“See, I never properly learned how to run a business. It was a hell of a lot of trial and error. Mostly error in the beggining, as you know.”

He wanted to bite his tongue for referencing the reason he accepted the dowry, but went on, hoping Dream didn’t get hung up on it.

“Rachel helped a lot. Met her through a friend, they’ve been unofficially courting for years now. Johanna’s parents would prefer if she found an Omega for herself, but well, you can’t stop love.”

“Johanna Constantine?”

“That’s the one. We met in the army. She’s one hell of a fighter. Anyways, you seem to know a lot about handling the bookings and money and whatnot. Rachel was really impressed with you, I could tell.”

“I had to learn,” Dream nodded. “The Endless family runs several reputable businesses, and I was expected to take over some of the duties once I presented.”

“But you’re not the eldest,” Hob wrinkled his forehead.

He knew Dream had two older siblings, Death, and a brother who lived in the countryside. He was a bit of a mystery, never attending any of the London social events.

“My eldest sibling, Destiny, is a Beta and blind. Father did not wish to burden him with any of the business. I suppose he believes him. Incompetent.”

“What about Death? She’s an Alpha.”

“True, but she also happens to be a woman. And Father is rather traditional.”

“What an asshole,” Hob muttered, glancing at Dream to gauge his reaction, but he didn’t seem offended.

Most families only cared about the secondary gender of their children, but some of the oldest, more conservative families still held the belief that female Alphas were inferior to male ones.

“So that left you as the next heir.”

“Precisely. Father believed I would present as an Alpha, and aimed my education at subjects suitable for such a gender. He was...disappointed once I presented.”

Hob hummed, waiting patiently for Dream to continue. The topic was obviously hard for his husband.

“He found it more suitable that I take classes in etiquette and dancing after that. Not that I ever excelled at those,” he scoffed. “Death would still let me borrow her books, so I did manage to continue my studies.”

“I’m sorry. Your father sounds like a dick.”

“He is, as you put it, a ...dick,” Dream pronounced the word with such peculiarity, as if it were some foreign word he used for the first time.

“It does console me that he never got his perfect heir, not truly. Only Destruction presented as an Alpha, and for a while, it seemed he would be his heir, but my brother did not desire this life. Last I heard, he is living in America, working as a lumberjack.”

“Honestly, good for him.”

“He abandoned his responsibility,” Dream said disapprovingly. “He could have used the Endless fortune in ways that would have been beneficial to many.”

“Is that what you would have done?” Hob asked.

“Perhaps,” Dream shrugged.

“Tell me,” Hob slid closer to Dream, enjoying the warmth of his body against his.

“I wished to improve the conditions of our tenants. I saw that there was much to be done, and it would have only cost us a few years of revenue before it came back increased. And I wanted to invest in railways. I always found it marvelous how one could travel across the world so fast. Even wished to do it myself one day.”

“That sounds like something worth dreaming of.”

“You are mocking me,” Dream said, pulling away.

“I wouldn’t,” Hob insisted. “I really think it’s a good plan. Wish I could offer it to you, but until the printing business flourishes even more, the farthest I can offer is a few weeks by the sea.”

“That shall do,” Dream decided, settling back next to Hob, and when Hob hesitantly placed his hand on Dream’s, he didn’t pull away. 

So they sat, hand in hand, as Matthew gently croaked from time to time, and talked about all the places they wished to visit one day.

The invite arrived in the mail two days later, and Hob opened it at the breakfast table. His face immediately brightened as he handed the invitation to Dream.

“Remember my friend Johanna Constantine? The one who’s courting Rachel? Her parents are hosting a ball and we’re invited.”

“And you wish to attend,” Dream noted, as he skimmed through the invitation.
 
“Yes,” Hob answered honestly. “Usually, these balls aren’t my thing, but I haven’t seen Johanna in a while, and many of my friends will be there. I would love for them to meet you. Of course, that is if you want to come. If not, I can just go alone.”

Dream considered the matter for a minute before shaking his head.

“It would generate undue rumors if you showed up alone. I do not wish to have those kinds of speculations about our marriage.”

“You’re probably right,” Hob sighed. “I’ll just write to Johanna that we won’t be able to attend.”

“I did not say I did not wish to attend,” Dream wrinkled his eyebrows.

“Well...do you?”

“It might be. Wise, to show ourselves in public as a couple. We haven’t been seen in any social events since our marriage.”

“I don’t care much about what they think. If you want to go, let’s go, but not because of what those social gossips think.”

“You care awfully little about them,” Dream said, perplexed.

“They’ll gossip either way,” Hob shrugged. “Then in a week’s time, find some other poor bastard to torment.”

“Gossip is often followed by a bad reputation. That could hurt your business, your prospects. I do not wish for that to happen.”

“That’s kind of you, but don’t worry about it. This is just a ball.”

“We shall go,” Dream decided. “I would like to meet your friends anyway.”

“Really?” Hob grinned, delighted. “Johanna will adore you. She’s a bit prickly at first, but she’ll come around. Oh, and Hettie will be there too!”

Hob insisted on ordering Dream a new suit for the ball.

“I am not some vain Omega you have to dress up in silk and brocade!” Dream proclaimed, but there wasn’t much heat to his words.

“I know, duck,” Hob reassured him. “And I’m sure you would look quite handsome in a potato sack, too. But I want to give this to you, if you would let me.”

“You think me handsome?” Dream asked, his blush deliciously pink on those pale cheeks.

“Dark, tall, and handsome,” Hob agreed, planting a kiss on Dream’s hand. “I’ll leave you alone with the tailor, let him work his magic.”

The suit was black like the night sky, with little silver stars embroidered all over it. Dream placed his ruby, a family heirloom he was allowed to keep, on his collar. He took one last good look at the mirror before turning to Hob.

“I am ready. We shall go.”

But Hob just stood there, staring at Dream, mouth slightly agape.

“Is there something amiss with my suit?” Dream asked, looking down on himself.

“No, no. You’re absolutely gorgeous. Can’t take my eyes off you. I’ll make a fool out of myself tonight. I won’t be able to give a proper answer to anyone if you stand beside me, looking like this.”

“Then perhaps I should change clothes,” Dream smirked, not meaning it one bit. “Unless I wish my husband to appear a fool.”

“Oh, God forbid you did that! You’re perfect just like this, I’ll gladly be the fool.”

He offered his arm to Dream, ready to walk out to the carriage.

“Shall we?”

“Lead the way, husband,” Dream smiled, placing his arm in Hob’s.

Chapter Text

The people whispered when they entered and gave them curious looks. Hob might not have been the best at social cues, but he still noticed. He also noticed the way Dream tensed, his arm in Hob's going rigid. 

"We can still leave," he whispered to his husband. "I'm more than willing to fake some terrible illness if you want me to."

"There is no need." Dream said, but he still looked tense.

"I'll go get us some drinks," Hob declared.

He looked for Johanna on his way to the champagne, but his friend was nowhere to be found. Probably busy getting hunted down by hopeful mothers who thought she would be just perfect for their Omega child. They probably kept hoping Johanna would forget about Rachel in favor of a pretty Omega, but they stood no chance. Hob grabbed two glasses of champagne and headed back to where he had left Dream, but his husband was not there. He looked around, wandering through the hall and into the gardens -  and he almost walked by the hydrangea bushes - when he heard a sickly sweet voice saying his husband's name.

"Come on, Dream. Don't look at me like that. You used to enjoy my company very, very much, if I remember correctly."

"You dare presume. I do not wish to see you. I do not wish to breathe the same air as you. Leave.”

There was so much anger in Dream's voice, if possible, even more than when he argued with Desire. Hob froze, unsure whether he should intervene or if Dream wanted him there.

"Why would I? I was invited, just as you were. An honored guest of the house,” the mystery man replied.

"You and honor are not worthy of being in the same sentence,” Dream said, voice full of disdain.

"Still sulking about that?" The man laughed. "Forgive me, Dream, if I don't marry every Omega who throws themselves at me."

"Leave, Lord Cauchemar. Now."

"Why so formal? You can call me Cori, you know, like you used to. I remember how sweet my name was on your lips as I was fucking you."

Lord Cauchemar. The man Dream was caught with all those months ago, the man who refused to do the honorable thing and marry the Omega he disgraced. The very reason Hob even had the chance to marry Dream. 

"Unhand me.”

This time, there was a silver of fear in Dream's voice, mixed with his burning anger, and that was enough to jolt Hob into moving. He stepped out from behind the bushes.  The scene in front of him made his blood boil. Lord Cauchemar held Dream's arm tightly, pulling him towards himself, while Dream struggled to get away. They both froze when they spotted Hob.

"You heard my husband. Unhand him," Hob said, and if there was an edge of threat in his voice, good.

Lord Cauchemar's lips twisted into an ugly smile as he let go of Dream and took a step back.

"Lord Gadling. How good to see you here. Your husband and I were just having a friendly chat. We're old acquaintances, as I'm sure you know."

"Didn't seem too friendly from where I was standing," Hob growled.

"Now, now, Lord Gadling, I'm sure you don't want to cause a scene. One scandal was more than enough for poor Dream over here."

If looks could kill, Lord Cauchemar would have been dead long ago from the hatred in Dream's gaze. But instead of lashing out, the Omega walked over to Hob, taking his arm.

"We should leave. I am sure Lord Cauchemar will do the same, seeing that he is not welcome here."

“Oh, no. This party is just getting started,” the man smirked. “I haven't had a chance to be introduced to you, Lord Gadling, but of course I heard about you, the man who married my spoils. I should thank you, really. The Endless were up my neck for weeks after I was caught with my knot in that perky ass. It was a good fuck, but not worth a wedding. You got them off my back, so my thanks, Lord Gadling.”

Hob clenched his fist, growling as he stepped forward, ready to punch the other Alpha in the face, when Dream’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“This is what he wants. Another scandal to ruin your good name besides mine.”

“You were always a smart one, Dream,”  Lord Cauchemar grinned. “But not smart enough to keep yourself chaste and proper, like a good Omega should. And now, here you’re, bartered off to this,” he looked Hob up and down, with clear disgust. “This low-life ex-soldier, not even an aristocrat. Tell me, Lord Gadling, how much did the Endless pay for you to marry my spoils? And how is he for a husband, dear Dream? Does he fuck you as good as I did? Or does he just drink and gamble all day like soldiers do?”

“My husband,” Dream hissed. “Is a better man than you could ever wish to be.”

That surprised  Lord Cauchemar. He let out a startled laugh, looking between them in disbelief.

“You like him!” he exclaimed. “You actually like him! Oh God, this is the joke of the century. Does he know it? Is he going along with it to make your parents happy and keep the money flowing? Does he tolerate your constant whining, the arrogance, the frigidity?”

“Oh shut up!” Hob snapped. “He is none of those things. He is passionate about the things he cares about. He cares too much. And even if he’s arrogant, it’s rightfully so - he is smart as hell. If you ever bothered getting to know him, you would know.”

“Oh, I did know him. Intimately.” Lord Cauchemar smirked. “That’s why I know that the only thing he’s good for is to get your knot wet. A useless little Omega, who thinks too highly of themselves, thinking they can ever be more than what they’re intended to be. A little whore-”

Hob had had enough. Fuck his reputation, fuck scandal, but, most of all, fuck Lord Cauchemar. He lunged forward, punching him in the face with all the strength he could muster. There was a satisfying crack, and the other Alpha staggered back, clutching his bleeding nose. There was only a brief moment of satisfaction for Hob to enjoy before Lord Cauchemar snarled and returned the attack. It was a brutal fight, but Hob was a soldier. And he was an Alpha in love, protecting his husband. Lord Cauchemar must have realized that he didn’t stand a chance in a fair fight, because one moment they were hitting each other, fists flying and teeth bared, and the next, there was a knife in the Alpha’s hand. 

Hob froze for a split second, staring at the weapon, knowing how dangerous it was to continue the fight without any tools to defend himself. Lord Cauchemar smiled, all teeth, and lunged forward, knife aimed at Hob. Hob prepared himself to dodge the attack and somehow try to get the knife from the other Alpha. But before he could act, there was a loud smashing sound. Lord Cauchemar stood frozen, his hand still clutching the knife, before he collapsed, face-first in the grass. Hob stared at Dream, standing behind Lord Cauchemar, with the remains of a vase in his hands.

“He was hurting you,” Dream said, as if that explained everything.

Hob let out a laugh, a little hysterical maybe. He stepped over the other Alpha, not caring one bit about him, and he gently cradled Dream’s hand, making him drop the rest of the vase.

“He insulted you. I’m sorry, duck, I lost my temper.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” Dream replied honestly. “But I fear what this will mean for your reputation.”

Hob stared at the unconscious Lord Cauchemar. Fuck.

“I’ll get Johanna,” he declared finally. “She’ll figure something out.”

[...]

In the end, Johanna did deal with it, although it was accompanied by a lot of cursing and proclamations that Hob owed her for the rest of his life. But she assured them that once she was done, Lord Cauchemar wouldn’t even think about raising a fuss.

Hob and Dream sat on the steps of the garden, staring into the night as the sounds of music filtered in from the building. Johanna suggested they call it quits for the night, and Hob wholeheartedly agreed. He wasn’t about to provide the guests with a new source for their gossip, with the bruises already blooming in his face.

“I’m sorry that it ended like this,” Hob said, rubbing his arm absent-mindedly, not daring to look at Dream. “I mean, I’m not sorry I punched him, the prick deserved it, but this isn’t how I imagined our first public outing.”

“I. Did not mind your actions. It was. Gallant. I only wish you had not gotten hurt in my defense.”

“No harm done,” Hob smiled, relieved that Dream felt this way. “It’s only bruises, and besides, I have plenty of scars already. A few more wouldn't have mattered.”

“I do not wish for you to get hurt,” Dream admitted.

“Oh, me neither. I’m not a masochist. But sometimes it happens, and if that's the price for protecting your honor, I’m glad to pay it.”

Dream gave him a strange look, but didn't reply. Hob took his silence as encouragement to go on.

“You know, I used to worry...It’s stupid, I know I had no right to feel this way, but I used to worry that you still had feelings for him.”

Hob didn't know much about Dream and Lord Cauchemar’s relationship, only how it ended. Everyone in town knew that. The two were caught in a very compromising position, and despite the pressure from Dream's parents, Lord Cauchemar refused to do the right thing and propose. He left Dream to the wolves, his reputation in ruins, a social pharia. And while Lord Cauchemar's good name also suffered, he was an Alpha, a few months, and he was in the clear.

“No,” Dream shook his head. “Not anymore. Not since he...”

He fell silent for a while, and Hob waited patiently for him to continue.

“I am not entirely sure I loved him at all. Ever. I loved what he offered, I loved the idea of him. I had many suitors before him. It was not. Unusual. For me to have Alphas interested in me. Or the Endless money, to be more precise. But he was different, or so I thought. He did not seem like all the other knot-head Alphas. Half of his family is from France, you know. He told me how life is there for Omegas. They are permitted to attend university, to own a business... Not quite equal, no, but...”

“It’s better,” Hob finished the sentence for him.

“Yes. Better. He promised to take me there, and I. I longed for that life. And it seemed to me he believed in that kind of life, too. Believed in me. So I gave him what I should have not.”

“It’s not your fault,” Hob rushed to assure him, and he really wished that he had punched that asshole more.

“That is. Kind of you to say. But I was foolish. He only pretended to make me lower my guard, and he succeeded. But once our affair was exposed, he washed his hands of me. The moment I realized he would not take accountability for our actions, that he would leave me to suffer society’s scorn alone, all the love I once might have felt for him vanished.”

“I’m glad,” Hob said, and Dream's head snapped in his direction.

“Not for what he did to you, of course not. I wish you had never had to suffer like that. But I’m happy that you don't love that asshole anymore. That means that maybe, one day, I’ll stand a chance to win your affections.”

“You truly wish that,” Dream observed.

“Of course I do. I thought you knew that.”

Dream hummed, a little huff of air leaving his lips.

“I suspected. I was not sure. I still do not understand why.”

“How could I not want you? You’re perfect, in every way. Smart, caring, beautiful.” Hob looked at him, adoration clear in his eyes.

“You meant it. Those things you had said to Lord Cauchemar.” Dream didn’t quite seemed to believe it.

“I did. I do. You deserve the best, Dream. I’m sorry you ended up with me.”

“I am not.”

Hob stared at Dream, bewildered.

“You are. Not what I assumed you were.” Dream continued.

Hob wanted to joke about what a praise that was, but instead he kept quiet. This seemed hard for Dream to say, and he didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“You are. Kind. You do not push for what many assume is rightfully yours. You endure my peculiarities. My moods. You indulge me.”

“Not much to endure. I like you, as I said.” Hob rushed to assure him.

“That may be so, but I am aware that I can be. Difficult.”

“Only sometimes.” Hob allowed.

“And you care. About your workers. About your friends. About me. You risked tarnishing your good name to defend my honor. You are a good man, Hob Gadling. What more can one wish for in a husband?”

“For love,” Hob said, almost a whisper.

“Love,” Dream repeated. “Yes, I wish for that.”

“I would give it to you if you allowed me.”

“Hmmm.” Dream hummed, considering the idea. “I suppose...we could try.”

“Try. That’s all I want,” Hob smiled, ear to ear, barely believing his luck, that he finally got permission to court this beautiful creature.

“I believe this is the time when you kiss me, Hob Gadling,” Dream said, clearly amused.

And Hob did just that.

Epilogue

Hob looked at his beautiful husband, as he lay on a blanket, eyes closed, bathing in the sunshine. He laid a careful hand on Dream’s stomach. The Omega wasn’t showing, not yet, but he could smell the pregnancy on him, as sure as he did that storm-scent he had fallen for. 

“Do you presume it will be a girl this time?” Dream asked, eyes still closed.

“Hmm. A little girl. Orpheus would love that. But whatever they’ll be, I already love them.”

“Me as well,” Dream admitted.

He propped himself up, letting Hob cradle him between his legs.

“I am lucky that I have such a persistent husband. Not afraid to chase me despite our first months.”

“And I’m lucky to have such a generous husband. Allowing me to love him despite everything," Hob retorted.

Dream reached up, demanding a kiss, and Hob gladly indulged him. They only parted when an insistent little voice called out.

“Daddy! Papa! Look what I found!”

Hob looked up at their son, clutching a shiny rock in his little hands as he rushed towards them with a huge grin on his face. Matthew croaked along in exictment, flying right above Orpheus' head. Dream opened his arms for Orpheus to plummet into, and Hob watched in adoration. His family. How lucky he truly was that he didn’t give up all those years ago. This was something worth fighting for.