#FIRST TIME DREAMLING HAS ME IN A CHOKEHOLD IT'S FINE

[wordsinhaled]

saw this post by @cuubism and my hand slipped...

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In all honesty, Dream cannot say that he has ever thought about it until this moment. Yet Hob's expression is open and free of any judgment. It does not seem to matter to him that Dream comes to this with no experience. In fact, if the way his eyes are beginning to sparkle is any indication, Hob would take pleasure in initiating Dream to an act of pleasure he has heretofore denied himself, and only seen in snatches of others' reveries.

But Dream must take too long to respond, because Hob shifts away from him on the couch, as if to concede the matter. It is then that Dream realizes how close together they had come to be sitting over the course of the evening; knows it by the sudden absence of warmth where Hob's thigh had been pressed flush to his own through scant layers of cloth.

"It's alright," Hob says. Is Dream imagining the hint of disappointment in his voice? Or the way Hob's gaze flicks for an ephemeral second down to Dream's lips? "Of course. Just because you haven't—well, that doesn't mean you'd want it to be—"

"I would not be opposed," Dream cuts in.

"I've gone and put you on the sp—" Hob stops short, blinking. "Oh. Really? With me?"

"Yes." Dream smiles. "Indeed." He cannot remember when he last did so. This time Hob certainly tracks the curve of his mouth, and avidly at that. Dream finds himself pleased to hold Hob's attention. The joy that unfurls in him at the knowledge of being wanted is surprising; it has been long since Dream felt it.

And now Hob is grinning back, a roguish tilt of a thing he has never directed at Dream before. "Well," Hob says. "In that case, you should know, Dream, that I've had several lifetimes to think about this rather a lot. "

Dream should know, just as he knows all else that happens in the Dreaming. And yet he does not, for in all the centuries of their friendship he has not once allowed himself to look in on Hob Gadling's nightly wanderings through his realm. "Tell me what you have thought about, then. Or perhaps... show me."

He holds his body quite still, unused to the tension coiling through him. While the sensation of desire is not, precisely, new, the freedom to desire Hob in specific is uncharted territory. All of him seems to thrum at the unexpected promise of it.

Hob moves closer, so that Dream can feel the heat of him again. “Kissing you. Nice and simple, yeah? Could start with that.”

"You may," Dream agrees.

He sounds perhaps more breathless than magnanimous, courtesy of this Waking vessel and its fallible lungs, but Hob's answering laugh as he leans in is grateful and giddy as a schoolboy's, so Dream supposes they are evenly matched.

#*emerges from months of writing hibernation* is this anything #drops this and slinks away #the sandman #dreamling #your honor i still love them i promise #FIRST TIME DREAMLING HAS ME IN A CHOKEHOLD IT'S FINE