Archive of Our Own ^beta

Hob knew he shouldn’t have bought the gift for Dream. It was far too rich for where they were in their…oh what was the right word? Rekindled friendship? Yes, technically, but did friends flirt the way they did? So, their “relationship” then. Hm, that wasn’t right either, because it implied there was something spoken between them. Neither of them had really said anything about being more than friends, but it was very strongly implied. Or so, Hob hoped.

After his Stranger had found him at the New Inn, he had come back a week later, at the same day and time. He’d actually been waiting for Hob, a slightly shy smirk on his lips. Hob’s grading had gone unfinished as they passed the afternoon deep in conversation. It was the same the following week, and then the one after that.

For the first time in their 600-plus year history, they really talked. Hob finally got a name out of his Stranger—well, numerous names, but Dream was the one he was invited to use.  Dream had confessed that the event that had delayed his meeting with Hob had also cut him off from the world at large, so Hob had made it his personal mission to catch him up on the events of the last hundred years. To be honest, Hob would’ve read Dream the phone book if it meant he’d stay at Hob’s table, staring at him with those crystalline blue eyes.

Weeks stretched into months, and Dream still keep coming back. Hob planned his work schedule around these weekly meetings, and they became the highlight of his life. Before, in the days leading up to their centennial meeting, Hob would be a barely contained jumble of nerves. Now, he felt only giddy anticipation, like he was a teenager again, waiting to see the maid or man he fancied. He was smart enough to temper his excitement with a healthy dose of reality—Dream had responsibilities that could delay him again, or he could simply lose interest. He knew every meeting with Dream could be the last in a long time.

That’s why, when he saw it shining in the shop window, all he could think was how much it made him think of Dream. He’d hesitated, knowing it might be a bad choice, but in the end his romantic impulses won over his anxiety. He’d gone into the shop to take a better look.

The price for the item was dear, but he couldn’t resist. Besides, he had more than enough money squirreled away, thanks to some smart investments he’d made in the mid-nineties.

It sat on his bedside table for three days, safe in its innocuous black velvet box. It might as well have been Pandora’s box for all it fixated Hob, and he cycled between excitement, nervousness, and outright fear. He didn’t know much about Dream, but he did know that he was powerful beyond measure. Would such an earthly trinket be worthy of his notice? Would it be considered gauche to give a material gift, or perhaps misinterpreted as a sort of offering or tithe?

Or maybe he’ll see right through you and know that you’re thinking of him constantly.

Hob was so nervous that he showed up an hour early to the New Inn, and this time it was Dream who was surprised to see Hob waiting with their drinks already.

“You are early this week, Hob,” Dream said as he settled into his seat, his lovely, deep voice sending shivers down Hob’s spine. “Is everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine,” Hob said, trying to sound casual. “My afternoon meeting got canceled, so I figured I’d grab the best table before the after-work crowd came in.”

Dream nodded, picking up his waiting glass of wine. Hob tried not to stare at Dream’s lips as they kissed the rim of the glass, or at his throat as it bobbed as he swallowed.  It was barely a sip, but it was enough to tinge Dream’s bottom lip with ruby liquid before the tip of his tongue swiped it away.

Gods, Dream was beautiful.

Hob had no idea how he managed to keep the conversation going as long as he did. He was hyper-aware of the palm-sized box in his pocket, and he kept waiting for a suitable opportunity to present it. Every time it did, though, Hob chickened out, then kicked himself internally for his cowardice.

Eventually, the hour grew late, and as Dream put his hands on the table to push himself to standing, Hob gathered up his courage.

“Wait. I…I have something for you,” Hob said, voice shaking slightly.

Before he lost his nerve, Hob pulled the box out of his pocket and slid it on the table towards Dream. He left it sitting next to Dream’s mostly full wine glass, then jammed his hand back into his pocket.

“What is it?” Dream asked. He cocked his head, dark brows knitting together in surprise.

Hob’s mouth was dry. He was this close to just grabbing the box back, playing it off as a joke, and fleeing the bar. But that was the coward’s way out, and Hob Gadling was no coward.

“Open it.”

He couldn’t stop the nervous twitch in his foot as he watched Dream pull the box towards himself, his expression curious and hard to read.

“Is there some occasion that I am unaware of?” Dream asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

“No.” Hob shrugged, feigning a casualness he did not feel at all. “I just saw it, and…” It made me think of you. He waved his hand instead.

Dream opened the hinged box so slowly that Hob thought he might explode with anticipation. It didn’t help his nerves any when Dream simply stared, almost confused, for a good long time before looking back up at Hob.

“What is this?” he asked again. He looked more than bewildered, he looked almost worried. Maybe a little upset, even.

Shit. There was something here Hob wasn’t picking up on, wasn’t there?

“I just noticed that you’ve been missing yours,” Hob said, words coming easily as he spoke the truth. “You’d had it every time we met before, in one way or another.”

Dream reached into the box, and pulled out the large ruby pendant that Hob had bought. It hung from a long, gold chain, and winked in the sunlight filtering in through the window. It wasn’t even close to being as large as Dream’s had been, but was the same shape and cut. The color and clarity were magnificent, and it was set in a simple gold frame.

“There’s nothing really to it,” Hob continued. “It doesn’t have any magic powers, like I’m sure your old one had.”

Dream stared at the gemstone as it turned. He seemed mesmerized for a moment, then his gaze drifted over to meet Hob’s.  

“Is there…something you are hoping to gain by offering me this?” Dream asked.

Now, that was a loaded question if Hob had ever heard one. His face flushed. Was Dream asking if Hob was trying to get into his pants? Not that he wouldn’t say no if Dream wanted to, but that wasn’t the reason he’d bought the gift.

“No?” Hob replied, but it came out more a question. He’d learned, over these weeks with Dream, that there were still many things that he did not understand about his mysterious friend. He knew he was the King of Dreams, that he was a being of great power, but Hobe didn’t quite grasp what that meant. They didn’t exactly write books about the Endless, an if they did, Hob hadn’t found them.

“Have I done something I shouldn’t have?” Hob asked carefully. Have I tripped across some supernatural line? Or have I just crossed an invisible boundary between us?

“With treasures such as these, there’s always a price levied. A boon asked.” Dream’s voice tinged with quiet sadness. “You do not need to buy my favors, Hob. I give you whatever aid you need freely.”

It took Hob a few seconds to fully grasp what Dream thought he was asking.

“Dream, it’s just a gift. I don’t expect anything from you for it.” Except maybe a smile. “I got it because I thought it would bring your pleasure. No other reason.”

Hob could read the minuscule flickers of Dream’s expression that betrayed the emotions battling inside of him.

“Look,” Hob said with a sigh, “I saw it in the shop and bought it on a whim. If you don’t like it, or can’t take it because of some cosmic rules I don’t understand, I’ll take it back, no questions asked.” He looked down at his empty pint glass, running his finger absently around the rim. “I just remembered how much I missed some things that I’d lost or had to give up through the years. I thought perhaps you felt the same way about your own jewel.”

Hob felt like a fool. He should’ve known that this was a bad idea. He had made things weird between them again, after they’d been going so very well…

“I cannot recall the last time anyone has freely given me a gift.” Dream’s voice was soft, almost small. “Especially one as beautiful as this one.”

Heart in his throat, Hob braved a look at Dream. A bright sheen rimmed those lovely blue eyes; his lips parted slightly in wonder.

Words came Hob him, from deep within his unconscious. “I give you this gift freely as a gesture of friendship, nothing more. I ask for no boon nor favor from you, Dream. It is yours to take and do with as you please.”

Much like my heart.

Dream’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, and he stared at Hob with an open affection so brilliant that it warmed Hob’s soul.

“I give you my thanks,” Dream said, his deep voice thick with emotion, “and I accept your gift with gratitude.”

Equal parts relief and joy surged through Hob, and he broke out into a shaky grin. “Well, I’m glad you like it."

Dream extended the hanging pendant to Hob, and for a confused moment, he thought Dream was handing it back to him.

“Would you do me the honor of placing it upon me?”

Oh. Oh. Dream was actually asking…Hob was going to…

“Sure, of course.” Hob feigned casualness, though his heart was hammering against his ribs so loudly he was sure Dream could hear it. He stood up too quickly, his chair screeching loudly across the floor, making him wince. He stepped closer to where Dream sat, realizing that in over 600 years of meeting, this was the first time he’d been invited to cross the barrier of their table.

He reached out and took the offered necklace, his hand clumsily bumping into Dream’s elegant fingers. It was the first time they’d touched, and the cool brush of impossibly soft skin made Hob almost giddy. It took him a couple of tries to undo the tiny clasp with his trembling hands, and once it was open, he stepped properly behind Dream.

As he draped the pendant around Dream’s neck, he thought of how long it had been since he had helped someone with putting on a necklace. It was a simple, yet intimate gesture of care, and Dream had asked him to perform it for him.

Hob focused on refastening the clasp at the nape of Dream’s neck, doing everything he could to keep his fingers from brushing against the tantalizingly pale skin. He’d thought too often of how Dream’s graceful neck would feel under his hands, his lips, and Hob feared that if finally given the chance to know, he wouldn’t be able to stop.

“There we are.” Hob forced easy cheer into his words as he stepped back and away. “Let’s have a look at it on you, then.”

He’d planned on returning to his spot across the table, but Dream stood up instead, looking down at the pendant. The ruby rested right above his sternum, capturing the dim, late night lights of the inn.  Dream touched the pendant, running his fingers across the gleaming planes.

“I have many jewels, Hob Gadling, such that men can only dream about.” He looked up at Hob, eyes glinting as brightly as stars. “This is the jewel I will treasure the most, my friend.”

Hob had to be dreaming. This was beyond any sort of ‘thanks’ that he could have hoped for. But if he was dreaming, well, that was just as good as reality with his mysterious friend, wasn’t it?

They stood together for a long moment, the space between them ripe with promise. Then, Dream closed the narrow distance between them and placed a light kiss on Hob’s burning cheek. The world melted away, and all Hob knew was the soft brush of silken skin against his rough, end-of-day stubble. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply of Dream, and he smelled of moonlight on midwinter frost. No, it was fresh ink on newly pressed parchment. No, it was the homey smoke of a familiar tavern tinged with the sweetness of new mead—

Dream pulled away, taking the medley of memories with him. Hob was dazed, almost dizzy, and it took all his power not to pull him back and kiss him properly on the mouth. There wasn’t much of a question anymore, was there? Friends did not usually kiss each other on the cheek, at least not in England. Friends didn’t give expensive jewels as gifts, either.

A wild, reckless thought came to Hob, the same impulse that had led him to buy the jewel in the first place.

“Perhaps, there is one thing I would like to ask you,” Hob said. The kiss had emboldened him.

“And what would that be?” Dream asked, hesitantly.

“Would you do me the honor of allowing me court you? Properly.” Hob asked. How he kept his voice from shaking, he did not know.

Dream looked stunned, eyes wide. “You would…court me?”

“I know it’s old-fashioned, but I’m an old-fashioned sort of bloke,” Hob rubbed the back of his head self-consciously. “Maybe it’s silly, but—”

“Yes.”

“Yes?” Had Hob heard correctly? Was it really that simple?

“Yes.” Dream gifted him with a rare smile, part shy, party sly. “I will allow you to court me, Robert Gadling.”

Hob’s heart pounded a victory march, but outwardly, he kept himself composed. He could run around and pump his fist in the air when he was alone again. He offered his hand to Dream, and folded his other arm behind his back, as if he were asking him to dance. Dream slowly accepted, and Hob learned forward at the waist and kissed the back of Dream’s hand. Dream’s skin was cool and so very soft, but Hob could feel the latent power thrumming just under the surface. It made him wonder at his own audacity; who was he, a mere mortal, to court the King of Dreams?

Then, he looked up at Dream before fully coming up from his bow, and he saw the brightness twinkling in his blue eyes. He heard the wondering gasp that came from Dream’s softly parted lips, and Hob knew exactly how he dared. To Hob, he was just Dream, his Stranger, his oldest friend, and all he wanted was to make him happy.

Before the moment passed, Hob righted himself, and let go of Dream’s hand. He didn’t miss how Dream’s fingers lingered on his before slipping away.

“Then I will see you here next week, Dream,” Hob said. It was definitely time to quit while he was ahead. “And our courtship will begin in earnest.”

“I look forward to it, Robert.” Dream said.

Hob wrinkled his nose. “No ‘Robert,’ please. To you, I’m just Hob. Always.”

Dream chuckled softly. “As you wish, my gallant suitor.”

Hob’s cheeks heated, but he couldn’t have hidden the wide smile on his face if he’d tried. “I will count the moments until we meet again.”

The next week, when he arrived at the Inn, Dream was waiting for him. He looked different today. Usually, he was dressed casually in his wool coat, but today he wore a black brocade jacket with a semi-sheer shirt underneath. Hob’s pulse sped up not only at the lovely sight, but the realization that Dream had preened himself for Hob. Not only that, but he was also wearing the ruby.

They were really doing this, then. No more questioning, no more doubts about where they stood. Still friends, but now definitely something more.

Dream saw Hob approaching, and smiled. His hand went up to touch the ruby, an absent-minded gesture that made Hob wonder how many times he’s done it in the past week. He'd been thinking of him, then.

Right then, Hob knew for sure that he had made the right choice in buying it for Dream. Not just because it had opened a door between them, but because it looked so right. It was a rare and beautiful treasure, just like Dream was to him.