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As Morpheus returned to the Dreaming, Matthew swooped down from the sky to meet him and sound the alarm. Apparently someone had dreamed themselves into the Throne Room and was knelt at the side of the Sovereign’s chair. It was making the few denizens of the palace who had seen him quite nervous.
“He’s been there since nightfall in the UK, boss. Caw. Several hours now at least. I’m starting to think he is a few french fries short of a Happy Meal, myself. Caw. You know, a few screws loose. Won’t even respond when I land on him. Not a flinch. Lucienne says probably not a new vortex, not this soon, not this unresponsive, but you never know, stranger things and all that…” The raven anxiously circled his King’s head as he walked.
“Has he moved?” Dream asked, a frisson of anticipation causing his steps to lengthen.
“What? No. That’s the first thing you ask? Someone has entered the Throne Room and y–” Matthew is cut off by a sharp motion of Dream’s hand.
“Enough, Raven. ” Morpheus’ voice was a steel door closing. “ This is mine to deal with and mine alone. ” They approached the entryway to the Throne Room and he paused with his pale hand just ready to push the door open. He looked down at Matthew. The bird shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot and Dream sighed. “ It is not a vortex. I promise. Not again will I allow my Realm or the Waking World to come to danger for my Pride. I will, however, ask you to stay out of my personal matters.”
Black feathers fluffed up and his head tilted back and forth. “Personal? Caw. ”
Dream raised one eyebrow. “Personal.” He gave no more information.
“Boss…” Matthew drew the word out with his uneasiness.
Another deep sigh. Morpheus reminded himself that he should appreciate the loyalty and care with which his subjects regarded him. But even so… “I see you are anxious and therefore I will not stop you from doing what you think is your duty, Matthew. ” He paused to choose his words. “ But consider this my official suggestion that you leave well alone for the remainder of these dreaming hours.”
The raven seemed to consider this for a moment and then nodded. “Okay. I can work with that.” And then he flew off. Dream let out a long breath.
The great doors moved with barely a whisper at Dream’s touch. It was only once they were completely closed behind him that he dared let himself look up to the dais.
Dream froze with a silent gasp.
He would commit this sight to memory, burn it into his mind so precisely that it would defy the unending march of time in its clarity.
Hob Gadling had positioned himself - head bowed, knees beneath him, palms pressed to the top of his thighs - at the right hand of the throne. His clothing appeared to be that of a modern businessman at the end of a long day, button-down shirt the color of storm clouds partially untucked from his black trousers, no tie, no belt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, as if to tease with only the shadowed cords of his forearms laid bare. His umber hair was neatly pulled back into a short tail at his nape. The open collar of his button-down shirt revealed that which had allowed him passage here: a wide band of black leather. The silver of the buckle glinted beneath the shadow of his tied hair.
Eons ago peoples had worshiped the Dream King, made sacrifices and chanted prayers, but Morpheus had never found it to his taste. And yet this. This.
It had been at Hob’s suggestion. Dream had been waiting for him in his flat often enough this past year or so since the dynamic of their relationship had changed. Usually he bided his time in quiet joy, like a well-fed cat stalking prey, but occasionally he laid in servility, ready, open, and waiting for his lover to return from the mundane errands of an apparently mortal life.
Hob had wanted to give Dream this, a turning of the tables. Hob waiting an unknown amount of time for his return. Hob kneeling, absolutely unmoving, unyielding in his obedience. Hob brought low in service of someone he would never truly call King.
When Morpheus reached the top of the stairs he laid his hand on Hob’s head, threading his fingers underneath the bound strands, loosening them from their hold. “Hob.” His voice sounded rough even to his own ears.
His lover didn’t move. Perfect.
“Hob. ” Dream clasped his fingers into a fist and tugged. “ Look at me .” Hob looked up, brown eyes hazy with lust, lips parted around soft, panting breaths. Pale fingers released his hair to trace around his ear and then down a strong jaw to grip his chin. Dream ran his thumb across a plump lower lip. “ What a gift you have given me. A perfect manifestation of my will, yet not of my own creation. Not often does the King of Dreams get to see his fantasies brought life by another’s hand. I shall never let myself forget it. ” He paused to let himself sink a moment into Hob’s eyes, enjoying the wanton darkness hidden there. “How shall I reward thee?”
Hob swallowed once but didn’t respond. Well, no response other than the blush flushing his cheeks.
“Good. ” Dream hummed his pleasure at the man’s careful obedience. “ So good. ” He considered him for a moment then decided on exactly the reward they would both enjoy. “ Stand, Hob Gadling, and sit on my throne.”
For just a blink Dream saw Hob snap out of the role he was playing, genuine shock coloring his expression at the command. But it was only a breath of a misstep, then he was settling onto the smokey marble, palms still pressed to his thighs, chin still in Dream’s grip, eyes still locked to his lover’s. So so good.
With a wave of his free hand Morpheus’ own clothes disappeared into so much sand. He couldn’t contain the chuckle that shook his shoulders at the absolutely desperate keening noise Hob made when the King of Dreams straddled his lap.
Dream cupped his lover’s face in both hands and looked down at him, ignoring the fact that his erect cock was leaking wet spots onto Hob’s shirt. Fingers trailed down to trace the black leather at his neck. “Until I remove this you are mine to command. ” Hob nodded once, confirming the parameters they had previously agreed upon. “ And so well you take to it. But for what comes next, I would prefer your enthusiastic and spontaneous participation. ” Dream leaned in, whispering heavily into Hob’s ear as he slowly unbuckled the collar. “ For I intend to ride you, Hob Gadling. ” He smiled as his lover shuddered bodily beneath him and kept whispering, making sure his lips brushed the shell of his ear. “ I intend to ride you on my throne. And while my skin will not bruise, the memory of being split on your cock shall forever be a part of this symbol of my sovereignty.” The collar fell to the floor of the throne room with a satisfying clatter and then Hob was surging up to meet him, ravenously plundering Dream’s mouth and pulling their hips flush.
Neither technically needed to part for air, not in the Dreaming, but centuries of habit made Hob's lips leave Dream’s to move from mouth to neck to clavicle. Morpheus luxuriated in it, arching forward and letting his head fall back to release a moan that echoed off the columns.
Luckily his lover was too far gone to hear the distant thud accompanied by a ruffle of feathers and a croaking “Shit. Fu Caw. ”
Dream divided his attention, a copy of himself appearing at the column behind which Matthew had fallen. He made sure this version was fully clothed, purely for the poor bird's sake. "Satisfied?"
The raven managed to look both embarrassed and angry. "Christ on a cracker, boss, you could have just told me it was your boyfriend waiting patiently to fuck you senseless. I woulda let you be." He shook his head as if to clear his mind.
"Now where is the fun in that?"
"Certainly not over here. Excuse me while I go find where you store the brain bleach…" Matthew took to the air muttering something about not being able to get drunk anymore.
Morpheus returned to himself completely to find Hob pawing at his ass and sucking dark marks onto his throat. Lovely. It was only a snap of his fingers to have Hob’s clothes evaporate into the ether.
“So impatient, luv. Coulda given you a proper show.” Hob’s voice always became more accented the less control he had, descending into the old English of the common people, as if he could never quite rid himself of the phonemes he learned as a child despite all the time that had passed.
“My Realm, my rules.” He pulled Hob’s hair free and rocked his hips up high into his lover’s chest, fists wrapped in brown tresses.
As Hob’s fingers pressed inward he found Dream already slick and open. Morpheus let loose a rumbling laugh at the pout Hob leveled his way - he did always relish in a slow preparation. “My Realm, my rules.” He smirked down at his human.
“Y’ taken all the fun outta it, you glorious minx.” Hob directed Dream’s lips back to his own with a firm hand to the back of his head.
Morpheus grabbed the base of Hob’s erection and held it steady. “I shall show you fun . ” He said against Hob’s lips. Then he lowered himself down, slow slow slow , enjoying each centimeter of penetration, head back, eyes closed, nails clawing deep into Hob’s shoulders.
But he only made it halfway before Hob yanked pale hips down while thrusting upwards, knocking the superfluous air from Dream’s lungs with a growl. “Y’ are right, this is fun, innit.”
Dream let out a frustrated growl of his own. He was fully seated in Hob’s lap, wonderfully stretched and so ready for more. And yet, he could not let stand this impertinence. Fingers strong as the winter wind pulled hard on Hob’s hair, cracking his neck backwards to stare up at his lover. “It would serve you well to remember who is allowing you here in the Dreaming, Hob Gadling. ” Dream pulled again, harder, then held it, causing Hob’s eyes to just barely start to water. He was panting up at Morpheus now, trying to lean back to ease the pain on his scalp but the high back of the throne prevented any relief. “ Now behave , lover mine.”
The slow rocking of Dream’s hips was a novel sensation for them both, not because Hob had never fucked him, oh no, but because they usually were so riled up with passion by this point so as to forego even a modicum of control. Hob picked up the rhythm soon enough, a leisurely roll that was as sensual as it was unhurried. Dream sucked on Hob’s tongue and enjoyed himself.
They continued that way for an amorphous amount of time, drifting against each other like the tide along a shore. No words between them, just breath and body in perfect concert. Dream lost track of how long he drew it out, so focused was he on the pure sensation of their coupling. But eventually Hob broke and sobbed softly into Morpheus’ mouth a single throaty “ Please .”
“There you are. ” Dream crooned, petting errant brown hair back from a sweat-sticky forehead. He waited until Hob gathered enough of his wits to look back into his eyes. It took longer than Dream expected. “ I’ve got you.”
Finally, Morpheus released control of his own body, started fucking himself down onto Hob in earnest. Dream had little doubt that half the Realm could hear this, so loud was the sound of skin slick-slapping together and onto smooth marble, so resonant the howl of lustful moans given in prayer to the darkness.
When Hob reached for Dream’s bouncing cock he smacked him away, then took Hob’s hands in each of his, interlaced their fingers, and brought them to press to the back of the throne above Hob’s head. They were nose-to-nose now, sharing open-mouthed breaths as Dream picked up his pace. Brown eyes widened when he realized his lover’s intent and the corner of Dream’s open mouth lifted in a smirk. “I will come untouched tonight, due to either your design or mine own.”
Dream watched the thought lance through Hob, a bolt of pure lust that pushed him forward to crash their mouths together. The primal force of it shuddered through the Dream King and the love in it very suddenly drew his orgasm out between them.
Quickly, Morpheus brought his hand down to smear in his mess on Hob’s chest, only to immediately shove two seed-sticky fingers into Hob’s mouth. Hob sucked instinctually. Dream felt when the taste hit home because Hob’s hips snapped upwards, eyes rolling back as he came with a hitching, garbled groan.
They collapsed into each other, gasping and shaking through the aftershocks. Eventually Dream lifted himself off of Hob and curled into the larger body, pressed his forehead to a strong neck, placed his pale hand on a tanned chest to feel the thudding heart. Dream felt Hob’s fingers start to stroke through his hair, a silent lullaby.
And for just a few spare minutes, the King of Dreams slept.
The effect rippled throughout the Dreaming that night. And as the dawn broke, and humans began to greet the day, more often than not they awoke warm, sated, and happy.