Chapter Text
Dream's soft cries echo through the bedroom as Hob fucks into him enthusiastically. It had taken Hob one look at the omega to know, irrevocably, that Dream was his. The club had been loud and crowded, and Hob could feel his blood sing from the second he'd stepped foot inside. He had excused himself from his friends and given in to the sweet, sweet call of pheromones. The second he'd locked gazes with a pair of blue eyes as searching as his, it was over.
Dream had sunk against his chest, content, elated. On the tube on the way to Hob's flat he had lovingly opened two buttons of Hob's shirt so more of Hob's scent would reach his nose. If anybody had noticed, they hadn't said anything. The genetic variations grow rarer and rarer, which makes coincidences like this all the more unlikely. People generally take the chance by the neck if they happen to stumble upon a match by sheer dumb luck. They softly spoke, exchanged names and stories and numbers until they reached Hob's front door, where Dream had put his nose against Hob's neck and moaned.
"It's been years since somebody smelled this good for me," he'd said. "Sorry, I'm a bit drunk on it."
Hob had curled a hand around Dream's neck, reassuring, possessive, and Dream had moaned again. "Don't be sorry, sweetheart," Hob had whispered into his soft black hair and fumbled with his keys. "Your smell is nothing short of an aphrodisiac for me and you know that. I know you can feel it."
Dream had plastered himself against Hob's side even more, burning hot through both of their clothes and licked the shell of his ear. "Hurry up then so you can fuck me, Hob Gadling."
Hob had sworn and almost dropped his keys and then shoved him against the inside of the door, sinking to his knees while almost ripping Dream's trousers off. Had buried his face in the wet mess between his thighs and drank from him until they trembled. They'd barely made it to the bed.
Dream shoves himself back onto Hob's cock with a wild moan. "How can I still want you even when you're inside of me?" He pants.
Hob is laid over his back, chest against spine, one hand at Dream's hip, the other interlaced with Dream's on the covers. It's the kind of close, animalistic sex that makes Hob want to keep going and going until he's wrung every sound, every ounce of pleasure, every possible orgasm out of Dream.
"Do you want me to knot you, sweet one?"
Dream slumps forward into the mattress and wails, the new angle so delicious it takes Hob all but two strokes to add his own hot wetness to the one between Dream's legs.
Dream whines into the pillows as he can feel Hob's knot expand inside him, and when Hob reaches down, he finds him hard and wanting still. So Hob continues to make small rocking motions, buried deep inside, knot tugging at Dream's rim.
Dream's breathing grows erratic. Hob can tell he's very much gone as he tilts his head to the side, exposing more of his neck. "Please bite me, oh God, Hob please, claim me, mark me, make me yours -"
Hob bites his lip until he draws blood. Pure want tries to force his jaw open to do as Dream pleads and bury his teeth into lily-white flesh. He mustn't. He mustn't. They've known each other for maybe three hours. He can't bite a claim into the neck of a stranger, regardless of how pretty his blood might sing for him. It's not right.
Instead, he clamps a hand on the back of Dream's neck to relieve some of his need for pressure there and picks up speed, his hips stuttering with quick, minuscule movements. Dream goes feral under him, squirming and moaning and tugging himself forward so hard Hob's knot almost pops free.
"Hob," Dream pleads again, half delirious and shuddering, "do you not want me? Am I not good? I wanna be good for you. Please, please, Hob, take me, let me be yours, let me, let me -"
"Shhhh," Hob says through the saliva pooling in his mouth, dripping down onto Dream's shoulder, "you are. You're so good for me. So perfect, wet and open. Dream, darling, it's all good, it's all good -" he buries his fingernails into Dream's neck where they both desperately, instinctively want Hob's teeth and Dream comes with a strained shout.
Hob can't help but imagine Dream walking around with a beautiful, days-old purple claim, Hob's claim, and the nauseating wave of want is so tall Hob comes a second time, drooling violently through gritted teeth.
After regaining some of his composure Hob carefully lays them onto the side, avoiding the wet spot Dream has made. Their bodies still locked together he draws the covers over both of them, burying his nose in Dream's delicious scent.
"Do you want me to -" Hob says, unsure, while squeezing Dream's hip. It's entirely possible to work an active knot out again.
"Mmmhhh," Dream rumbles, eyes half lidded, his body warm and pliant like fresh taffy against Hob's front. "Stay. S'nice. Thank - thank you for -"
"My pleasure. It's ok," Hob breathes against his neck, placing slow kisses there.
"Can I - M'gonna - hmm." Dream's voice grows heavier and trails off as he falls asleep. It's how it should be, it's what feels right, even if they both know that it's all just instinct and hormones and entirely possible to ignore. It's nice to give in to it, sometimes. Calming.
So Hob lays there behind Dream, whose first bodily instinct it is to rest after being fucked and knotted, and feels his own body buzzing with post-orgasm endorphins telling him to stay awake and keep watch, to protect. So he nuzzles his face into Dream's hair and does just that, still buried deep.