Chapter Text
“If I lose my job because of this.” Hob says, through tightly gritted teeth. He’s actually quite proud of how level his voice sounds, although he loses track of his sentence almost immediately and has to repeat himself. “If I lose my job — then you’re going to be the one paying my salary until I find a new one.”
“That seems rather unreasonable.” Dream replies, and motherfucker , he doesn’t sound bothered at all. “I seem to remember that this was entirely your idea.”
Hob opens his mouth, then closes it again. He looks down at his laptop, which is balanced carelessly on his knees. The machine looks blankly back at him, one of his students’ unmarked essays displayed proudly on the screen. The time in the corner reads 3:52 a.m.
“I thought it would help me concentrate.” Hob protests. It’s a total lie, by the way. “I need to stay awake, and get these at least half way towards being graded…” He trails off into an embarrassing little squeaky noise as Dream shifts, casual as anything.
“And what particular part of having my cock up your arse did you think would be helpful in that particular endeavour.” Dream absolutely drawls. There’s something about him saying cock and arse that drives Hob insane for whatever reason. He whimpers and chews down on his lip, running his fingers helplessly over the laptop keys.
“I… don't think that thinking was really part of the equation at the time.” Hob says, and he's absolutely correct. He'd fancied a particularly dirty shag, and he’d gotten himself into one, although somewhere along the line (and if he's calculating it right, it’s been more than an hour) it had turned into “working from home” at the same time.
He's perched in Dream’s lap with his grey jogging bottoms pulled down to his knees. Dream is reclining against the back of the sofa like the king he is, apparently oblivious to Hob’s torment. His skin-tight jeans have been wrangled down to mid thigh, and his cock would be entirely visible, if it wasn't currently buried 14 inches deep in Hob’s arse.
Dream’s hands are cold as stone and they feel huge as they gently play with the hem of Hob’s t-shirt and tease across his sides. Usually such a casual touch would tickle, but tonight the feeling is more sensual. Hob rereads the same sentence at the beginning of the godforsaken essay for the 26th time, and feels a bead of sweat roll down from the nape of his neck.
Dream leans forward an inch or two, buries his nose into Hob’s thick chestnut hair, and quite casually licks the sweat away.
“Fuck.” Hob says, relying on one of the oldest and best of swear words to express his feelings. The laptop trembles precariously and almost falls from his knees, and he makes a wild grab for it which of course means that he moves forwards and then backwards again, and fuck if that doesn’t feel good —
Dream grabs him tightly by the hips and renders him utterly still. “No.” He says, in his galaxy-stopping voice. “Stay. Still.”
Hob does as he’s told. He melts back into Dream’s arms, allowing himself to be both held and commanded. Dream is big, cold and unyielding, and Hob is his .
“Yes, that’s right, pet.” Dream’s voice echoes through Hob’s body, bounces around his rib cage and smothers his heart. “This is what you really wanted tonight, is it not? To be mine. To be safe.” He spans Hob’s whole waist with his hands and strokes the delicate fingers down, down to his lower belly where his skin is soft and tender.
“I can feel me in you, my sweet love.” Dream whispers, and his fingers caress the little bulge of his cock where it shows on the outside of Hob’s body. “I have made a home inside of you, do you see?”
Hob’s lips tremble almost too much for him to form words. “People will— get the wrong idea, if you’re not careful. Think you’ve knocked me up.”
He can feel how feral Dream’s grin is where it bites into the juncture of his neck and shoulder. His hand presses flat and tight to Hob’s belly, rubbing into the outline of his cock. “T’would hardly be a surprise, the way you beg for my seed.” He says, and Hob draws blood from his own lip when he bites down again.
“Touch me.” Hob says, ragged and gasping. “Please. I need you.” He doesn’t mind that Dream laughs at him softly, in fact, the jostling movement sends a few intensive waves of pleasure through his body. Dream’s sharp claws dig into his skin and trail from his stomach, down towards the hardened base of his cock.
“My pretty little man, with his pretty, pretty cock.” Dream muses softly. “So wound up, desperate for me. Can’t even get your work done properly without begging for something inside you, can you? Whatever would your colleagues think if they saw you now?”
“Yeah, I’m your fucking whore.” Hob whines softly, arching his back in an attempt to find some kind of stimulation, but Dream has a tight grip on him. “Please? I’ve been good. I’ve been trying, but I’m just so empty without you.”
He squirms and looks down, watching as Dream’s sharp, claw-like fingernails dig into the delicate skin of his lower belly. He imagines the marks they will leave and he shudders, leaning back into the safety of Dream’s chest. Dream kisses his neck until Hob’s jaw drops into a silent moan.
“My sweet love.” Dream croons “I will always give you what you need. Never doubt it.” His huge, cold hand wraps around Hob’s red and straining cock, encompassing it completely and allowing Hob the pleasure of fucking forward into the tight space. Hob whimpers pathetically and bucks his hips, listening with rapt attention as Dream purrs against his ear. Every muscle in Hob’s body trembles because he is so close, he wants desperately to cum into the loving cocoon of Dream’s hands.
Dream doesn’t let him. The enormous bastard pulls his hands away and leaves Hob hanging over the edge, so close to orgasm that he can almost taste it.
“But not yet, dear heart.” He says, his lips at the edge of Hob’s ear. “After all, I hardly think that you have worked for it.”
The laptop finally (perhaps inevitably) clatters to the floor, and really Hob can hardly bring himself to care. He lets out a choked little sobbing sound and wraps his hand gently around Dream’s wrist, pressing his fingertips into the cool, soft skin.
“ Please let me work for it, my Lord.” He whispers. “And show me how to please you. You know that there’s nothing I want more.”
The laptop reappears on Hob’s lap just like magic. He groans, anticipating exactly what Dream is about to ask of him.
“You cannot neglect the hard labour that your students have put into their work.” Dream says, soft and dry as sand. “Read it aloud, my love. I would like to hear you appreciate what has been written for you.”
Hob shudders, forcing his glazed eyes to focus on the screen. If he reads one word at a time, he’s sure he can make it a little way through. Whether or not he actually has any comprehension of the words he’s reading is another matter entirely.
“‘While a definition of monstrosity in the medieval period is difficult… to pin down, those on the margins of society often seem to be ‘othered’ — fucking hell — as their differences are highlighted and made monstrous by deliberate exaggeration or misunderstanding.’”
Dream scrapes his sharpened teeth over Hob’s fluttering pulse point. “I cannot disagree with that opening statement.” He says, his hand pressing flat against Hob’s belly again. “What do you think, my love?”
“Monstrous qualities have always been… enhanced.” Hob clenches his teeth. If he clenches up his inner muscles he can feel the shape of Dream inside him become more defined, pressing in at his walls. “Bigger, stronger, sharper. Always more than human.”
“And what thoughts do these enhancements inspire in the observer, hmm?” Dream rolls his hips up just once, and Hob almost screams. “Fear? Lust?”
“D-Depends.” Hob stutters. His body is a vessel, speared open. “Both, maybe.”
Dream laughs, low and resonant, and Hob feels it move through his own body. He’s beginning to feel like he and Dream are one creature, one strange being built from pure pleasure. Monstrous and utterly divine.
"Yes, dear heart. Perhaps you are correct. You have had such an intimate experience with the matter, after all." Dream’s hand caresses the trembling slope of Hob’s thigh, digging his claws into the sensitive flesh until Hob is writhing there in his lap. His cock has purpled from the denial of his orgasm, and it’s leaking stickily onto the hem of his t-shirt.
"You are so deliciously human, my love." Dream whispers. "It pleases me so greatly."
Dream’s hand, when it is finally wrapped around Hob’s cock again, is huge and hungry. His fingers greedily press against the aching flesh, pulling gasps deep from Hob’s chest. Those touches are almost painful, and yet Hob is rolling his hips in search of more within seconds. He wants to be consumed by Dream’s body, to be left shaking and desiring. And Dream gives him exactly what he wants gladly, drawing him once again towards orgasm.
“God, fuck, please.” Hob chokes on his own saliva. His neck is arched, tendons taunt and shivering at the surface of his skin. Dream bites down and feasts on Hob’s next pathetic, wanton sound.
“Always begging for more.” Dream sighs, pressing his thumb tightly to the tip of Hob’s cock, spreading pre-cum all over the head. “My love, have you no concept of too much ?”
Hob laughs, sobs, drools down over his own chin. It’s such a silly question, he knows that Dream must be teasing him. Too much is not a phrase that comes up much within his vocabulary. Dream sighs yet again, long suffering in his ability to tolerate Hob’s seemingly bottomless desire.
“I suppose you did at least make an attempt to do as I asked, so you have earned something.” He says in a kinder tone, nuzzling at the shell of Hob’s ear. “Very well, my sweet little love. You may cum for me now.”
It’s as though someone has switched on a light inside Hob’s brain. His hips stutter and the inner walls of his arse clench, vicelike. He opens his mouth but there’s simply no noise that he can make to match the way he feels inside. The orgasm comes barrelling into him at full speed and he spills over Dream’s pretty pale hand over and over, until he feels empty and shell-shocked. Dream practically purrs in response. He brings his sticky hand up to rub over Hob’s belly, precisely over the bulging outline of his own cock.
“You do follow orders so beautifully, pet.” Dream rumbles happily as Hob slumps back into his chest. “I hope you are so compliant only where I am concerned.”
“Only for you, love.” Hob agrees, shivering. Dream’s hard dick is still stuffed half way up into his guts, and he’s insanely sensitive. “If I don’t have you fucking me into submission, noncompliance is basically my middle name.”
“Thank goodness I am here to keep you in line.” Dream grinds his hips up and Hob whines, not sure whether he wants Dream to stop or keep going. He doesn’t want him to pull out, that’s for sure, so he clenches down hard and makes his trembling hole suck Dream’s cock in deeper.
“Slut.” Dream says, and that’s another word that makes Hob feel all weird and squirmy when it comes out from between Dream’s lips. “Stay still, or I will have to hold you. I am far from finished with you.”
The long forgotten laptop throws itself once again from Hob’s lap in an act of technological suicide, and the screen goes blank. What the hell, Hob thinks distantly. The students can wait another couple of days for their grades, he’s not really in danger of getting the sack. And Dream would pay his salary if he ever did.
He cranes his neck and tilts his head up to meet Dream’s eyes. “I’m always yours to command, my Lord. Always yours.”