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It started small, nearly unnoticeable, and at first Morpheus overlooked the quiet murmur at the back of his head. He was with Lucienne, busy with making sure the Dreaming was back to its full potential. Sitting on the stairs leading up to his throne, he was looking up at his librarian as she reported on the latest development in the realm.
“And that’s all there is for the moment, sir,” she concluded with a small nod.
Probably that was where Morpheus should have answered, but he had finally become aware of a slight tugging at the edge of his consciousness, distracting him from the conversation at hand.
It felt familiar, but not in a good way.
“My lord?” Lucienne inquired, her brow creasing with hints of worry.
Morpheus didn’t answer, focusing on the pull.
It was an imperious sensation that he had already experienced before, just before ending up in the clutches of a greedy human. It made him panic, for a brief moment, as unwanted memories and feelings welled up in his mind, but soon enough he managed to calm down, because...
Roderick Burgess’ Summoning had been like being dragged by a rope around his neck, unyielding and painful.
This was not.
It was more like an invitation. Still not one he could refuse, but a gentle one nonetheless, probing and tugging slightly without hurry. It would not be scorned, but for now it was content to simply knock instead of barging in.
Slightly warry, Morpheus could only stand up and let himself be pulled along, sand shifting around him as he vanished from his throne room.
Left alone, Lucienne gawked a bit at the empty space, before letting out a sigh. She really hoped her lord had a good reason for disappearing on her so rudely, but it wouldn’t be the first time that he did so on a whim.
Still, she couldn’t help fearing that this was another ill-intentioned Summoning, even if the Lord of Dreams had been more powerful lately than ever before and wouldn’t be caught in such a way again. If he wasn’t back soon, she resolved, she would go look for him. She would not wait another hundred years watching their realm decay if she could do something about it.
For now, however, she had books waiting to be read and tea waiting to be sipped.
…
Morpheus did not lose consciousness. He didn’t even feel the slightest discomfort during the transfer, and weirdly enough, his senses were telling him that he yet remained in the Dreaming. Still, he was a bit jarred at first, because he found himself lying down with no transition whatsoever.
Somewhere near, someone was humming.
With a small frown, Morpheus opened his eyes – although he couldn’t recall closing them – and was greeted with a naked chest. Blinking, he looked up until he reached the face of one Hob Gadling, which was frankly the last person he expected to see at the moment.
Further exploration of his surroundings proved that they were currently both naked and lying in bed, tucked underneath silk sheets. Hob was the one humming, repeating the same soft note again and again, and he had an arm slung over Morpheus’ waist carelessly.
For a moment, Morpheus kept still, surprised by how safe such a setting was making him feel, compared to the last time he had been pulled somewhere against his will. After a few moments, however, he hoisted himself up on one of his elbows, dislodging himself from Hob’s embrace.
“Hmm? You’re awake, love?” came the lazy rumble of his friend’s voice.
Morpheus turned his gaze towards Hob, remaining silent, and found him to be exactly as he remembered. They had seen each other not so long ago, after all, and while Hob had managed to wrangle a promise out of him not to wait another hundred years for their next meeting, Morpheus didn’t think they would see each other so soon.
But then again, humans had a tendency to exceed his expectations lately.
As the silence stretched, Hob began to frown, and the more he looked at Morpheus face, the more he started to realise that something was different. Morpheus kept staring at him until Hob did a double take, and then his eyes widened.
“Dream…? Is that you? Like, the real you?” he asked, voice growing panicked.
“There is only one of me,” Morpheus answered absentmindedly as he turned his head to take in his surroundings.
They were in a darkened room, and the only furnishing that stood out, apart from the bed they were lying on, was a couple of chairs and a table with some beers and food on it. It was very simple and lacking details in the corners, as dreams often did when they followed the dreamer’s point of focus.
Morpheus let his eyes wander for a moment, distantly aware that Hob was saying something but not registering a word of it.
Then, with a bit of wonder in his voice: “No one has ever dreamed of me before.”
Because that’s what it was. Hob’s dream. Hob Gadling had been dreaming of Dream.
Hob stopped short in his babbling, and Morpheus turned back to look at him. Unfortunately, that seemed to make his friend panic again as he scooted back on the bed, pressing himself against the wall.
“Please don’t be mad, I’m really sorry! I didn’t mean anything by it… Or no, that’s not right, I meant something by it, obviously, but… I meant no disrespect, that’s for sure. I didn’t think you would know, which in retrospect… is kinda dumb of me, isn’t it, I mean you’re Dream and I’m currently dreaming and –”
“I would not begrudge you your dreams, Hob, regardless of their nature.”
“Oh.” There was a pause, and Morpheus was content to wait. “So… You’re not offended?”
Morpheus might have found the answer obvious, but it wasn’t so long ago that he had harshly denied his friendship with Hob, so he couldn’t blame him for being hesitant. Instead of replying, however, Morpheus took another looks at their position and asked another question.
“It appears that you wish for intimacy between us?”
“That’s…” Hob cleared his throat, cheeks darkening. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“I’m usually not much for physicality,” Morpheus mused, almost to himself, “but we are in the Dreaming.”
With that said, Morpheus allowed himself to lie back down with his head on Hob’s chest, and he felt him take a sharp intake of breath at the gesture. It took a few seconds for Hob to relax, and then Morpheus felt a hand on his head, softly petting his hair.
It was nice, like when Death would take his arm in hers to guide him somewhere, or when Matthew perched on his shoulder to press his feathers against his neck. Morpheus wasn’t usually one to indulge, but he thought that he wouldn’t mind if Hob made a habit out of this sort of dreams.
Although the fact that he was pulled into them forcefully was not ideal.
“Say, Dream,” Hob started, clearing his throat a little, “Are you…? I mean, do you… Err... stay in people’s dreams often?”
Morpheus didn’t think that was what Hob had really meant to ask, but he went along.
“No.”
Sometimes he had to visit dreams, to retrieve things like he had done for the Fates’ offerings, or to monitor his Dreams and Nightmares’ work, but he never stayed. He had no reason to, and he didn’t wish to infringe on the humans’ privacy just to entertain himself.
But Hob had been dreaming of him, so it was a different matter.
“What made you decide to come in mine then?” Hob asked, growing bolder as more time passed and Morpheus remained curled against him, soft and languid.
“It drew me in,” Morpheus explained. “As I said, there is only one me, and I was already in the Dreaming.”
The hand in his hair stilled.
“So, every time I dream of you, you have to be here?” Hob wondered. “But it’s not the first time, and you weren’t...” He didn’t finish, probably coming to the realization that, if said dreams had begun to appear in the last hundred years, then it was normal for Morpheus, having been stuck in the waking world, to not have been influenced.
A pause, then:
“Isn’t it a bit inconvenient?” Hob asked, starting to pet Morpheus’ hair again.
“It is. You won’t dream of me again.”
Regardless of how nice it was to just lay there with Hob, Morpheus wouldn’t allow something as fickle as a human’s dream to have an agency over him.
“Oh.” There was no denying the disappointment in Hob’s voice, but he also sounded a bit resigned, like he had known this was going to happen eventually. “I better enjoy this while it lasts then,” he joked.
Morpheus shifted a bit, stretching his legs until he was as comfortable as he could be. Even without seeing his friend’s face, he could easily tell what Hob was thinking.
“Did you not wish for us to meet again like this?”
“Yeah, but you said...”
“You will not dream of me. But I will come regardless, on my own terms.”
“Everything we do is on your terms,” Hob couldn’t help but snort. “But yeah, I would like that.”
“It’s settled then.”
Morpheus wouldn’t come visit him every night, but he should be able to free himself often enough to satisfy the both of them. With a small sigh, he closed his eyes and let himself drift, intent of making the most of this small, unplanned rest before going back to his duties.
Hob, however, had one last thing to clear up. “But don’t go thinking that just because we see each other here, you can skip our meetings in the real world, okay?”
Morpheus couldn’t help the small smirk that stretched his lips.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”