she/her. est 1990. personal blog so anything goes. i write a lot. video games, film, tv shows, whatever. header by behindxa ----- my fics & my writing tag for everything else.
Wow. I never thought I'd ever make one of these lol. But there has just been such a huge outpouring of love and dedication to this fic, including artwork, fanfic, and music, that I wanted to give it all the overview it deserves. (Banner made by @virgo-dream!!)
Firstly, you can find anything fic related (including memes and asks) under the tag fic: bolt in the blue along with the tag bolt in the blue vibes for posts that i was tagged in along with posts that... gave me BitB vibes lol
But for a thorough breakdown...
THE FIC: Bolt in the Blue [COMPLETE]
ARTWORK:
by @designtheendless -
Dream playing the Bass
An Endless album
Endless performing live
Instagram posts
Endless at the Grammys
Endless album cover from ch.6 & just the front cover
More Instagram posts
Endless beauty shots
Lucienne, Merv, and Mazikeen
Desire & crew - Instagram
Despair - Instagram
More Instagram ft. Hob
Dream and Hob
by @ambarden aka @wolf-and-raven-dreaming -
DTIYS ver. of Endless album cover
Hob and Dream from ch.4
Dream and Hob outside The New Inn from ch.5
Dream
Dream thirst trap from ch.6
Hob looking up at Dream from ch.9
Another Endless album cover
by @virgo-dream -
Dream's fit from ch.16
by @voidfishtattoo -
Dream from ch.2 + bonus him shirtless
by @foxish-draws -
Hob and Dream feisty from ch.3
by @rainy-days-and-nights -
Dream's thirst trap from ch.6
by @endlessdoodles -
Dream live
Death live
PHOTO MANIP/MISC. ARTWORK
by @virgo-dream -
The Yellow Sweater Controversy pt.1, pt.2, and pt.3
by issylra -
Fanfic gifset
A tour poster
by @rexwrendraws -
Endless promotional poster
FOOD:
by @carnelianmeluha -
All the Nepali food from chapter 19
MUSIC 🎶:
A Hob Gadling playlist (full of easy rock/folk, romance, travel, good vibes)
Bolt in the Blue Official Playlist (chapter-by-chapter setlist for the fic)
Endless' Personal Playlist (what Endless might sound like, full of a variety of rock new and old)
Encore (by request, a playlist of songs mentioned by name throughout the fic)
FANFIC FOR BOLT IN THE BLUE:
Safety Net: A Bolt in the Blue Story by virgodream
Reason in the Noise by sanyumi
where I'm supposed to be by Delta_Pavonis
Defiance- A Bolt in the Blue fan story by yourstruly_datura
FINAL AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I am so, so incredibly honored and stunned stupid by all the attention this fic has gotten, y'all have no idea lol. Thank you to everyone who left comments and shared my story. As well as those who left me asks here on tumblr or reached out to me on Discord. I know I tend to be an antisocial hermit crab, but I'll never take for granted, nor forget the connections and friendships I've made in this fandom just because of this fic! Ahh!
Gosh, I think I covered everyone, but if there's a contribution I missed, please let me know! And in the future if anyone creates something new for BitB, please also let me know so I can add it here!
Happy birthday!! I hope you don't mind, this art is so gorgeous and their smiles are so soft and this scene just screams to be written and so... I did. It's not a birthday but I hope you enjoy it regardless my friend! <3
-------------------------------------
“Do you often think about the world, outside of all this?”
Hob looks over at Dream, his lips naturally curling at the sound of his voice. At the way he talks, like peeling a line from a poem. Voice deep and rich, like melted chocolate.
“Like, what we’ll do after we graduate?” Hob guesses, taking a sip from his red solo cup. The sounds of music thumping and loud chatter behind them muffled over walls and closed doors.
Dream lolls his head sideways, his eyes full of contemplation. He’s slouching back against the steps, his own cup sitting empty next to him.
“Perhaps…” Dream muses, his head tilting imperceptibly, regarding Hob with crystal blue eyes that had captivated Hob since day one. “Are you not intimidated by what’s to come? Are you not… uncertain?”
Hob cracks a grin. “Always, mate.” He downs the rest of his rum and coke, setting the cup down and turning to sit sideways, facing Dream now. “But that’s what makes it all exciting.”
A small, barely there smile curls Dream’s lips. “You find uncertainty exciting?”
Hob shrugs, his smile unfaltering. “Better than being afraid. Better to embrace uncertainty, change, all the things that make life… life, than to shrink away from it. Makes it fun.”
“Fun…” Dream huffs, looking down into his lap, where he’s tapping his fingers along his hands.
Hob watches silently, realizing all at once that Dream is nervous. About graduating tomorrow, about the future… or something more immediate. Something that is happening right now.
Hob taps Dream’s knee. “Hey.”
Dream looks over just as Hob reaches out and takes Dream’s hand, pulling gently and encouraging him to face Hob as well. And instead of allowing Dream to fidget alone, wiggles his own fingers on Dream’s palm, getting them tangled together. Dream’s long, pale, pianist fingers against Hob’s sun-kissed digits with cracked knuckles and blunt, choppy finger nails.
Hob lifts his lashes with a smile when he hears Dream’s huff of amusement.
The party rages on inside, but outside, under the pale moonlight, Hob finds solace in their own quiet bubble. Lounging on the stoop, fingertips dancing along Dream’s wrist and feeling just a bit too warm from the alcohol. A little too comfortable.
A little too brave.
The wiggling stops and now Hob is just holding Dream’s hand, thumb pressed along the top, caressing his knuckles and veins that protrude slightly against milk white skin.
“After tomorrow,” Hob starts, licking his lips, eyes glued to how Dream’s hand fits in his. “Whatever we do, we’ll find each other again, right?”
Hob was moving across the country. He’d been offered a job in his field, something deeply coveted amongst his peers; obtaining an entry level job right out of college. While Dream currently interned at a publishing company, a place they both knew would hire him in no time once he had his degree in hand.
Dream’s grip tightened, a reassuring squeeze that encouraged Hob’s gaze up, struck down again by those inscrutable eyes.
“I don’t see why not,” Dream spoke, keeping his voice low and melodic. “We will still be friends, Hob.”
Hob took a deep breath through his nose, the air filling his chest, steadying himself.
“Friends, eh?”
Hob felt his heart crashing in his rib cage. So many unspoken feelings, so many moments that he’d let pass by. Opportunities to tell Dream how he really felt. They slipped away every day, the clawing belief that they could be something more. The fear of rejection, of ruining what they already had, keeping Hob at bay. Forcing him to appreciate what he had. Hob had Dream, and that was enough.
But it wasn’t anymore. And soon he’d lose Dream. In 12 hours they would walk across that stage and graduate and Hob would probably never see Dream again, and regret screamed through his veins, flooded his insides and threatened to pour over and past his lips.
Dream said nothing, though his own fingers began to move, causing Hob’s breath to hitch as he felt Dream’s delicate fingers tickle his palm, soft writer’s hands that were stronger than they looked, circle around Hob’s wrist and pull him in closer.
Hob felt his heart thrashing in his rib cage, jaw dropping in wonder as he followed along, scooting closer, transfixed by Dream’s impossibly hypnotic gaze, darkening as the space between them slowly closed.
The silence between them felt tense, but in a good way. In a way that made Hob dizzy. Especially as Dream’s gaze flicked down, causing Hob’s pulse to jump.
Dream’s voice, when he spoke, was so soft Hob wasn’t sure he even heard him.
“You could stay.”
Something fiery hot burned in Hob’s belly, licking its way up and seizing his heart.
Hob felt himself shaking his head without being fully conscious of it, all of his attention focused fully on Dream’s face, his neck, his collar bones peeking out from his long sleeve shirt. And his hand, still in Hob’s. Warm and sure and safe.
“I can’t.”
Dream’s eyes are back on Hob’s.
“Then I’ll come with you.”
A laugh tumbled from Hob’s lips, unbidden.
“Dream, be serious.”
“I am.”
Hob gasped as Dream’s other hand suddenly slips up his jaw, cupping his cheek, a thumb swiping just under his eye.
Standing as a rotten tooth, the Gedächtniskirche (full name: Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gedächtniskirche) as a memory of World War II. The new extension was built in the 1960. Scanned from 'Berlin - Faszinierende Städte', 1991.
Round 2 Match 62: Elizabeth Harlander (Frankenstein 2025) vs Dream of the Endless (The Sandman)
Elizabeth Harlander (costumes by Kate Hawley)
N/A
Dream of the Endless (costumes by Sarah Arthur)
You see Dream's wardrobe change across centuries, from period costumes to modern designer-inspired looks to full-on fantasy pieces when he's outside the human realm, and yet all of it has a cohesion that reflects his personal style and personality.
Round 2 Match 62: Elizabeth Harlander (Frankenstein 2025) vs Dream of the Endless (The Sandman)
Elizabeth Harlander (costumes by Kate Hawley)
N/A
Dream of the Endless (costumes by Sarah Arthur)
You see Dream's wardrobe change across centuries, from period costumes to modern designer-inspired looks to full-on fantasy pieces when he's outside the human realm, and yet all of it has a cohesion that reflects his personal style and personality.
Hobs laughter could be heard all around the gallery. Several older ladies standing before a tapestry shot him dirty looks.
"How hard is it for the British Museum to admit they just don't know what something is? Nobody believes them when they write "religious importance" beside something."
"Pride is still a universal sin, Hob," Dream murmured quietly as they walked into an older section. "It pulls the logic from men's minds and sullies reputations with arrogance."
Hob huffed another laugh. "Should write that down, put it on a mug for the Literature department."
Dream smirked and continued walking.
"We save the weirdest stuff. How much of this stuff was just something a kid made while learning his craft, realized he buggered it up, and buried in the forest so his master wouldn't see it."
Hob leaned over a case, smiling. "Or, how much is kept because us humans are just sentimental fools? Like this?"
"We saved something just because a cat stepped on it. Wonderful, isn't it?"
"Hardly," Dream sniffed, lip curled. "He dared to stop his ministrations upon my person before satisfaction."
Hob blinked.
Blinked again.
"He stopped petting you, so you ruined his work."
Dream slow-blinked back at him.
"You are a menace." Hob smiled, pulling one of Dream's hand up to his lips. "Absolute menace."
Was tagged in two posts that have pretty similar questions so i figured i'd combine them! tagged by @hardly-an-escape and @carnelianmeluha <3 thanks loves :)
Last song: "Liar" by KoЯn
Last TV Show - A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms
Last Movie - The 40-Year-Old Virgin (lol wait! i put it on with my roommate as something to de-stress to)
Last Museum - Museum of Illusions in Cleveland
Last Concert - bbno$ (one of the funnest shows i've ever been to)
Favourite colour - Forest/olive/army green
Reading - Adelaide by Genevieve Wheeler
Last search - ^ why that book doesn't use quotations marks (it's so annoying. but i'm getting used to it and beginning to understand why)
Currently working on - I'm currently working on felting commissions! I got a little Kirby, a fat beagle, and Marcus the worm lol
Last Meal - *Girl Dinner* of deviled eggs, carrots, cucumbers, hummus, 4 slices of some kind of deli meat.
Tea or coffee - coffee ☕
Current phone wallpaper - lock screen is my cat and wallpaper is a photo of a statue of Athena
tagging, no pressure: @lenreli @wolf-and-raven-dreaming @notallsandmen @gabessquishytum @teejaystumbles @emihotaru
Dreamling Parent Trap AU part 3/3! Part one and two ! (but i recommend you read it all on Ao3, here!)
-
“Hob!” Dream managed to catch the man just at the door of the guest room.
His heart clenched painfully as Hob turned, his face– usually so lit up, so care-free and joyful– crumpled into lines of hurt and melancholy. He let Dream approach though, his posture straightening as he fully turned to face Dream and awkwardly swiping his fingers under his red-rimmed eyes.
“What?”
Dream flinched at Hob’s dead tone, how tired it sounded. Hopeless.
“Hob,” Dream took a long breath, his hands itching to reach out and touch. “I didn’t mean it.”
Hob shook his head, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his pants.
“No, Dream. Don’t take it back.” He met Dream’s eyes, brows raised high. “You’re right. You’re always… right,” he sighs, his shoulders hanging. His voice is thick and low; Dream is certain he’s never heard Hob sound so defeated.
He hates it immediately. And especially hates that it was him that made Hob feel this way.
“You were always the more rational of the two of us.”
“I don’t want to be rational,” Dream is quick to respond. He can hear the desperate edge in his voice but doesn’t care.
Hob huffs a laugh, his chin dropping, watching how his feet shuffle on the hardwood floor before pulling his head up.
The way Hob’s eyes shine, his nose tinged red, make Dream’s chest cave in. He steps up to Hob and takes his hands.
“I’m tired of pretending there isn’t still something here.”
Dream watches Hob’s chest rise with a long breath, steeling himself, his eyes slipping shut.
Dream wets his lips, his pulse hammering in his ears, in his chest, his fingertips, making him shake slightly. His fingers tighten around Hob’s hands in an attempt to calm himself, but feels his tongue moving without his permission.
“... And I know you feel the same.”
Hob’s eyes snap open at that. Dream holds his breath, staring back at Hob, unblinking.
Dream feels like his ears might start ringing. There’s a flicker of something in Hob’s gaze, a fire that Dream had thought snuffed out long ago. He’s not sure anymore what this conversation is about– where it’s going. If they are fighting or arguing…or begging.
A long silence stretches between them before Dream caves in, his voice small even in his own ears.
“Please.”
Hob’s body slumps, his shoulders drooping like a heavy weight has landed on him and his brows pinch together in agony, impatience.
“Dream…” Hob exhales his name, a sigh or a sob. “Look around you. You have made a life for you and Orpheus here.”
Dreams swallows thickly, watching as Hob’s gaze casts about, as if taking in his surroundings instead, searching for what to say next.
It’s true though. Dream had successfully chased and seized his lifelong goal of being an independent writer; a novelist. No longer writing articles for papers or local magazines and blogs barely anyone read. No more copy editing or ghost writing. He’d finally made it, in his eyes.
And then Dream had inherited this house and vineyard from his father when he died, shocking the entire family. Dream almost refused it, but knew it would be a waste not to; to take over the family business, the house, making more than enough money to pay off debts and ensure Orpheus would go to a good university.
Dream thought he was happy here, making enough money that it was almost embarrassing. But there had been something missing… he’d refused to acknowledge it for years.
Dream was lonely. Desperately. And it wasn’t until Orpheus hit that age where lying by omission to his son was no longer an option. Orpheus was born curious and full of love, compassion, and wondering where his other father was.
It was enough to send Dream spiraling, memories haunting him like a ghost for years. Of the happy times he had with Hob; young and reckless and in love.
He’d sent Orpheus off to summer camp for the first time just to get some peace, to throw himself into meaningless flings and hookups just to distract how his heart felt like it was breaking all over again.
Of course Orpheus would come home as Robyn. Of course the boys happened to find each other in the one place in the entire world Dream never even entertained could exist with an entire ocean separating them.
Back then, Hob stayed in England as a professor. He still is, technically, making a modest sum of money just enough to take care of himself and Robyn. Dream knows this from the conversations Hob and him have had in the past few days. Reacquainting themselves, catching up on lost time…
Falling in love again.
“And…” Hob hesitates, looking down at their still clasped hands, giving them a careful squeeze of his own and making Dream’s heart stutter in his chest.
“And I have obligations, too. Robyn has friends– I can’t just let go of all that.”
Dream takes a slow breath, studying Hob’s downcast eyes, the lines above his brow, his long eyelashes…
“Then I’ll come with you.”
Hob’s head snaps back up, a sarcastic smile tugging his lips up.
“Dream, be serious.” Hob loosens his grip, as if intending to drop their hands but Dream only holds on tighter. “We have separate lives now–”
“They don’t have to be…” Dream interrupts, taking a step closer, close enough to feel the warmth of Hob’s breath as it blows past his lips. “Separate, I mean. Orpheus is crazy about you.” Dream takes another steadying inhale, his nerves singing. “And so am I.”
Hob looks down once more at their hands, at the way Dream is rubbing his thumb along the top of Hob’s hand. Digging into the meat of it, making the skin around Dream’s thumb turn white.
After a long pause, Dream attempting to wrangle his thoughts together, he licks his lips and speaks again.
“What are you so afraid of?”
Hob shakes his head slowly, bringing it back up and meeting Dream’s gaze.
“That this is all fleeting,” he speaks softly, the walls around them absorbing the sound, settling a new kind of quiet between them, one that makes Dream more anxious than ever. “This won't last. We’ll get into fights again, we’ll get tired of each other…”
Hob’s eyes drift away as he rambles, down the hall, looking at nothing.
“Maybe.” Dream concedes in a whisper, tugging on Hob’s hand to pull his attention back. “But this time we’ll work through it.”
“What if it doesn't work?”
It is, admittedly, strange to see Hob behaving this way; realistic and almost dismissive. It’s close to the way Dream had treated their relationship early on. The way Hob spoke now was indicative to how much he’d grown and matured. No longer throwing himself headlong into situations without first testing the waters.
But the old Hob was still in there. He’d been the one who asked Dream to dance. He was the one who unintentionally tore down Dream’s defenses again, getting him to unwind and smile and laugh again like he used to.
Hob is putting on a front. Dream can see the anguish in his eyes, the restraint. But Dream is a patient man now. He can wait. He can go at Hob’s speed… if he’d only let him in.
“Dream, we were so young when we married. We barely knew each other.”
“Do you want to try?”
Dreams' response is immediate, his gaze razor sharp on Hob.
But Hob looks torn, his brows pinching.
“I… I need to think.”
Dream feels himself deflate. It’s not a ‘no,’ and he can accept that. He nods. “Okay.”
Their hands finally drop, Dream misses the warmth of Hob’s embrace instantly.
Hob moves to turn towards the door behind him, but hesitates, his eyes flicking up and down and suddenly setting Dream on fire.
“Can I just…” Hob steps up to Dream, his hand hovering in the space between them.
Dream nods, his own hand coming up with a tremor as he touches the stubble on Hob’s jaw, greedily combing his way up and around the back of his neck.
Hob is already pulling Dream in by the time his eyes flutter shut and their lips connect softly, gently, like either of them might spook the other if even a breath comes out wrong.
It’s achingly slow, but so, so easy. Hob’s plump, chapped lips caressing his like fingers on a rosary, like a prayer; pleading and careful.
Dream kisses back with as much gentleness as flowers bending in a warm breeze, only parting his lips to take a shallow breath before Hob is pulling him in again, lips slotting together like a fond memory, taking Dream apart by the seams, invisible threads splitting apart in his chest, his limbs.
It feels so good to touch like this again. To receive Hob’s affections, his closeness, and to be able to give it back. Dream selfishly gets his other hand around Hob’s shoulder just as the man does the same, both of his large hands now surrounding Dream’s face, his thumbs stroking his cheekbones and up into his hairline, tipping his head back and pulling a low whine from Dream’s lungs that vibrates up his throat and into the kiss.
It’s heaven. Dream is in heaven.
And it also hurts so, so much.
The kiss ends far too quickly, Hob leaning back just enough to disconnect, but only just so. He allows himself to linger in the space between them, brushing his nose against Dream’s and making him smile.
Dream takes a breath through his mouth and can taste Hob’s air, the heat it radiates and how it nearly undoes him. If he doesn’t release Hob now, he’s not sure what he’ll do next.
So he swallows and opens his eyes, finding Hob already looking back at him.
“Good night, Hob.”
Hob’s fingers comb through Dream’s hair one more time before he nods, dropping his hands and taking a step back.
“Good night, Dream.”
Dream takes a step back as well, feeling as though he’s walking through water. He keeps his eyes on Hob as he puts more distance between them, his heart screaming at him to stop, to rush back into Hob’s arms, but he only nods as well, finally turning and briskly walking away.
-
Dream manages to school his face into something he hopes resembles normalcy as he tucks Orpheus into bed. His son is strangely quiet, but Dream doesn’t have the energy to question why. He pushes his hair back, kissing his forehead, and waits until Orpheus says he loves him back before leaving the room with the door cracked open.
The house has gone eerily quiet as Dream prepares for sleep, brushing his teeth, washing his face, undressing and pulling his favorite black robe on in tense silence, refusing to look at himself in any mirror he passes.
It isn’t until Dream turns out the light of his room and sits on his bed, the fresh smell of his moisturizer and mouthwash permeating his senses, that he finally allows himself to break down.
He feels foolish; of course Hob wouldn’t want him back, especially after Dream repeatedly turned him down while he’s been here. Dream had been contradictory and unintentionally playing coy, unsure what to do with himself but unable to deny how having Hob back in his life was making him feel.
His chest hurt. Dream rubbed his palm against his sternum as he took a deep gulp of air that rattled, pressing the palm of his other hand over his eyes, one after the other, hoping to push back the tears that couldn’t stop flowing.
He coughed, ragged and wet, sniffling afterwards and groaning at how he was behaving, now using the sleeve of his robe to wipe down his face and eyes, agitated at how he was reacting… but the crying helped. He sat with his legs over the bed, slumped forward over his lap, taking long breaths and staring at the floor.
A knock on the door nearly made him jump, turning halfway and not daring to hope that it would be anyone but Hob on the other side. Perhaps it was Orpheus, finally coming around to discuss what might be bothering him.
Dream swallowed as he wiped his eyes, clearing his throat. But his voice still cracked when he spoke.
“Yes?”
A stretch of silence filled the air, bringing Dream’s thick voice back to him, irritated at how morose he’d sounded from a single word.
“It’s me…” came the unmistakable sound of Hob’s voice, muffled and quiet.
Dream froze, his breathing gone still, as he looked over his shoulder at the door to his room, unable to see much more than an outline in the darkness.
Finally, after a few more sniffles and waiting out his erratic heart beat, Dream stood, flicked on his bed-side lamp, and made shaky steps towards his door, hoping the dim lighting in the room would cover the evidence of how he’d been sobbing.
He took the handle with a deep breath in, gathering what remaining courage he had left, and slowly opened the door.
Hob was dressed for bed, too. He had on a plain white shirt with flannel pajama bottoms, his feet bare as well.
Dream doesn’t know why he gets the most hung up about Hob’s feet. His household kept a shoes-off rule indoors, but Hob had always worn slippers or socks since his arrival. Seeing Hob this way… bare feet and threadbare clothes, felt intimate, relaxed, domestic.
Dream forced his gaze back up, knowing he was over-analyzing, as usual.
And they stare at one another for a time, maybe just a few seconds, but Dream feels himself begin to shake before Hob finally opens his mouth.
“You never came after me.”
The words are soft, quiet, and not as reprimanding as they should be. It’s a statement of fact, curiosity and hurt coloring Hob’s tone.
Dream’s lips part. His voice, when he speaks, is hoarse and wet.
“I didn’t know you wanted me to.”
Hob looks down, wringing his hands together–his fingers, Dream notices, caress the base of his left ring finger.
“... I didn’t either,” Hob admits before taking a long breath, pulling his head back up. “But if you called, I would have answered.” He takes a small step forward. “If you came back, I would have let you in.”
Dream’s heart thunders in his chest, elation and hope bubbling in his gut.
“What about now?”
Hob’s brows turn up, conflict clear in his eyes.
“Right now?” Hob breathes, stepping closer and making Dream’s blood rush past his ears. “Now… I don’t want to think about anything else…” He reaches out and takes the fabric of Dream’s robe in his fingers, caressing it. “Except for you.”
“Hob…” Dream whispers, a well of emotion rising in his throat and choking him off before Hob’s other hand slips up his neck, his jaw, a thumb tracing the line of his cheekbone.
Dream’s eyes flutter shut as Hob closes the space between them, causing Dream’s hands on instinct to slide up Hob’s chest, resting on his shoulders.
Hob leans in, brushing his nose against Dream’s and stealing his breath away.
“Will you be mine, just for tonight?”
Dream’s answer comes out in a sigh, already pulling Hob that much closer.
“Yes.”
-
Dream watches, his heart breaking at the sight of Orpheus and Robyn hugging each other tightly, just outside the TSA line.
He pulls his gaze up and finds Hob looking at them, too. His eyes also torn, his facial expressions were always easier to read than Dream’s; Hob wore his heart on his sleeve. It was one of Dream’s favorite things about Hob– how open and honest he always was.
Hob’s eyes find Dream’s suddenly, and Dream can’t help the way his chest tightens and his stomach flips uncomfortably.
Just as the boys pull out of their hug and they begin talking, Dream takes the few steps needed to put himself in Hob’s arms and hug him tightly as well.
Hob tucks his face under Dream’s ear and stays there for a long moment, breathing deeply while Dream combs fingers through his hair, his nose pressing into Hob’s temple.
Dream doesn’t know what to say, and Hob doesn’t speak either. His eyes drift shut and feels them begin to rock side-to-side. He squeezes, hoping to imprint the shape of Hob’s body onto his, to etch every line, curve, and wrinkle into his skin so he may always remember the feeling– the warmth left behind. A reminder that this really happened– Dream had Hob in his arms again.
“Okay?” Hob whispers. His breath is thick, hitting Dream’s skin and it makes him want to cry.
“Mm…” Dream hums, not trusting his voice. He nods once, desperately hoping to commit the feeling to memory of Hob’s hair tickling his nose and how his facial stubble scratches his cheek as they slowly pull apart.
But not far… as panic and desperation suddenly claw up Dream’s throat and he has to swallow several times to not act on it– to not drag Hob back to him so there is no space between them. To kiss Hob with every intention to meld them into one being, to bring back the way Hob had made him feel loved and cherished last night… falling asleep in Hob’s arms and waking up still surrounded by him. Finding pleasure once more, hushed and languid and bittersweet… both knowing they would have to go back to normal afterwards. Put on a mask of stability and reason, for their sons sake as much as their own.
It hurts to look at Hob, but Dream can’t help himself. They go over what they’ve already planned– that they will co-parent properly now. They will visit one another every holiday and for the boy’s birthdays.
Dream doesn’t want to share, he wants to do this together. But, like Hob said, they need to be realistic.
-
Weeks turn into months, and the longing gets easier. The face-time calls are less awkward, less painful with Robyn and Orpheus between them, acting as a buffer. In time, Dream comes back to himself, embracing this new normal. Seeing and talking with Hob once a week virtually has helped to placate the yearning, the desire for something more. They primarily talk about their sons, school, dreading the high school years, neighborhood changes, and so on. Dream and Hob rarely talk of themselves, their jobs or relationship status. It feels off-limits… especially with the night they shared together still so fresh in Dream’s memories.
Especially with the way Hob and him linger at the end of every call, hesitation creeping through their amicable smiles, no longer focusing on just the boys.
Half a year passes and Dream can no longer deny that he’s been lying to himself. The hunger for that night– for Hob and his happy years together– never fully vanishes. The fire that had briefly been reignited never snuffs out despite Dream’s best efforts.
The absence of Hob only grows worse, like picking at a scab. The night they shared together haunting Dream and reminding him how utterly alone he was.
It was like the first few years of the divorce all over again… but worse. Because they had reconciled, and admitted to themselves– acknowledged that there was still something there, between them. Something incapable of being ignored.
Dream missed Hob’s warm embrace, of being loved and cared for once again. Feeling valued and cherished like he’d been looking for, for the past 13 years.
Dream misses Hob. He misses Robyn.
Dream wonders what he would have done 13 years ago. He looks around the home he’s rebuilt for Orpheus and him. He thinks about how much he’s accomplished as a vintner and writer, how he’s already set Orpheus up for a future, how settled they had become here in California.
He looks to Orpheus, at their little corner at the end of the too large table, and suddenly everything careens sideways.
“Do you want to move to England?”
Orpheus’ head snaps up.
Dream’s mouth hangs open, one hand– frozen– holding onto a fork midair and the other setting his cup of coffee down with an abrupt clank on the hardwood.
It’s a fantasy that has been swirling around Dream’s brain like a fever. One that was planted when he told Hob he’d follow him all those months ago and only recently had begun to grow, as the unnameable itch clawed its way down Dream’s body to his feet, and rejecting the ground beneath him, refusing to take root here. But… maybe somewhere else…
The silence is heavy between father and son, but now that the idea has escaped Dream’s lips, he swallows and continues on.
“We’d have to get you enrolled in a new school…” he sets his fork full of eggs back onto the plate, unable to feel it any longer. “You’d have to say goodbye to your friends…” Dream licks his bottom lip, something terrifying and unknown coursing through his veins. “It would be difficult, and wouldn’t happen for a while but… what do you think?”
Orpheus’ eyes immediately begin to fill with tears and Dream opens his arms when the boy rushes to him, crawling into his lap like he used to when Orpheus was a toddler.
Dream bites back the hysterical laugh that threatens to crack through the emotional well that spills over, clinging to his son. He feels like Hob– this spontaneity. This recklessness.
Orpheus and him talk about it after school. They sleep on it, and discuss it some more. The answer is simple, and easy.
-
Feeling terrified and excited, Dream calls Hob. Voice only, because despite the progress they’ve made, he’s still on edge to discuss this.
Hob answers on the second ring. And Dream blurts it out without even answering Hob’s “Hello.”
“I think the boys deserve to see each other every day, don’t you?”
Hob on the other line is silent.
Dream pulls his lower lip in, biting it. He paces his room, waiting for Hob to speak.
“What are you saying, Dream?”
Dream takes a long breath. It’s currently midnight, but for Hob it’s 8am. But Dream isn’t tired. He’d been amping himself up for this phone call all day and his nerves had nearly undone him.
“I’m coming back…” to you. “Orpheus and I. To England.”
Hob coughs out a disbelieving, stunned laugh.
“What?”
“If you would allow us…” Dream adds on, his heart accelerating. “I know it feels sudden, and spontaneous… but I can no longer deny how much I miss the days when you and Robyn were here. When…” Dream takes a shaky breath. “When we were a family again.”
“Christ–” Hob chokes out, taking a breath of his own and then laughing at himself. The sound of it causing Dream to smile.
“Are you serious?”
Dream walks to his window, staring out past the vineyard field and to the clear night sky, the stars visible and the moon hiding somewhere.
“Am I anything but?”
Hob laughs again. An easy silence passes between them.
“I feel like I should talk you out of this.”
“Mm…” Dream hums, ready to hear out anything Hob had to say.
“But I’m a selfish man…” Hob takes a long breath, his breath low and quiet when it hits the receiver. “And I miss you too.”
Dream smiles so wide he feels it in his eyes, forcing him to squint. His stomach flips over and butterflies fill it, similarly to when he’d first met Hob ages ago. And when Hob kissed him again, the night before he left.
“Do you want to give this a try?” Dream asks, looking down at his left hand, his fingers tapping on the windowsill.
Hob sighs on the other line, like relief, like he’d been holding it in for over a decade.
