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Hob Gadling was used to being a big guy. He’d been a marvel back in his village, when he hit 13 and suddenly he was a head taller than the rest of the boys. His height had caused anguish for his poor mother, who could never quite dress him well enough, and made him a prime target for the king’s men to conscript him when he turned 17. Hob remained taller than average for most of the next five centuries, until finally in the 1900s everyone else started catching up to his five-foot eleven inches.
While Hob had never had to climb on a kitchen counter in his life, perpetual knee problems weren’t all that fun, but even to the modern age, being tall had some perks.
For one, Hob was easy to find at parties. Another was that people liked tall men. And Hob liked to be liked, people-pleasing little fuck that he was. It also, Hob was pleased to find, meant that he was slightly taller than Dream of the Endless, after they rekindled their meetings and started a relationship.
Dream was, by far, the most frustrating individual Hob had ever had a relationship with, but he wouldn’t give it up for all the world. Dream was beautiful, yes, and powerful, but he still enjoyed hanging around the dregs of the earth with Hob. Hob liked that when he took Dream to bed the other man was so willing and receptive, and they had an extremely fulfilling sex life, both in dreams and without.
The in-dream parts of their relationship were hazy. Hob never knew if he was actually going to see Dream when he fell asleep, which made every night a potential date night.
This night, however, it appeared Dream was not expecting him.
Hob dreamt he was in the castle gardens, a place he had visited before. The gardens were mind-bogglingly lush and colorful, with poppies and roses and other wondrous flowers Hob could not name bobbing in the nonexistent breeze.
Dream was standing with his back to Hob, hands reaching up into a trellised rosebush, and he looked different.
The first thing Hob noticed was his size. Dream was not standing on a stepladder, or floating in the air. No, his bare feet were planted in the grass, and his fingertip carefully caressed a flower petal. That hand could easily crush Hob’s whole head, and the flower next to it was miniscule next to those long fingers. Dream was tall; Hob doubted he’d come up to Dream’s shoulder if they stood next to each other. Dream was like a statue in the garden, so intimidating was his stature and presence.
It was not an unappealing appearance. Hob swallowed, and blinked.
In that spare second, Dream had returned to his normal height, and he turned around, a small smile already gracing his features.
“Hob.” Dream crossed the garden and greeted him. His robe billowed around him as walked, ever the drama queen.
“Hello, beloved,” Hob said, not mentioning the size change.
Dream slid his hand around Hob’s neck and pulled him down for a kiss. As always, Dream’s lips parted easily for him, and Hob was lost in the push and pull of the tidal wave of Dream’s mouth. In the back of his head, however, he kept thinking about that. Dream’s size, perhaps his true size.
When Hob pulled back, gasping for air, he caught Dream’s dark eyes glinting at him.
“Dream,” Hob said, running his thumb over his lover’s lips, “have you been… Altering your appearance in the Dreaming?”
Dream blinked at him, and for a moment his features were unsure.
“I have been, yes. I do not wish to frighten you,” Dream answered. His lovely low voice was wracked with concern.
“I don’t mind it. I think you should be yourself, here,” Hob said.
Dream’s eyes, black with the stars in the center of them, narrow at him. “Are you very sure about that, Hob Gadling?”
Oh, full name time. Dream was serious.
“Yes,” Hob said. He left off that maybe it was very attractive.
It wasn’t that Hob disliked his height. He liked it very much, thank you. But seeing the form Dream had just embodied had sent Hob’s brain spinning south and straight into the gutter. Very few people were taller than Hob, and none of them towered over him.
Dream sighed, but it was fond. In another heartbeat, Hob was left staring at Dream’s ribcage, just above his stomach. Hob looked up.
Dream’s hair was always longer and wilder in the Dreaming, and this was no exception. The ebony strands radiated out from Dream’s head like a crown. The twin stars of Dream’s eyes pinned Hob down, and as Hob took in the breadth of Dream’s shoulders, he felt nothing but his blood rushing to his cock. Dream was an easy eight feet tall, and his hand came up and caressed Hob’s side. The span of it encompassed half of Hob’s body. If this was his hand…
“Oh,” Dream’s mouth curled around the words, and the glint in his eyes brightened. “I see.”
Hob could not hide his blush. It was heady, to feel this small.
“You never cease to amaze me,” Dream murmured, and bent down.
He loomed over Hob, the galaxies in his robe engulfing Hob’s vision until all he could see was Dream’s eyes, and all he could breathe was the rain-smell, and all his nerves were honed to the black-nailed fingers strumming over his ribcage. This Dream was a predator.
Dream cornered Hob between his hand and his front, and seized Hob’s mouth. The mouth on his was not so much larger that it was awkward, but Dream’s tongue on the outline of Hob’s lips was enough that when Hob opened his jaw wide, and Dream explored the roof of his mouth, Hob nearly couldn’t breathe.
Dream’s other hand had come up and gripped his hair, and his fingers tangled with the threads and pulled gently.
Hob arched back into the hand at his back, showing his throat and submitting to the hand now almost wrenching his head back.
“I am surprised,” Dream said, his mouth ghosting over Hob’s throat. “That you would be so amenable to this form. You are usually so…Controlling.”
“Yeah, well,” Hob gasped out as Dream ran his tongue over his throat, “That’s what you seemed to like—Ah!”
Dream scraped his teeth over the bob in Hob’s throat, tearing a near-wanton moan from him.
Dream rumbled in pleasure, a sound that came up from deep in his chest. Hob swore he could feel it shake through Dream’s arms, and his own body responded by trembling.
“Let us be removed from here,” Dream said, and without effort, he scooped Hob up and stepped into his bedchambers.
Hob was stunned by the hand supporting his ass and the other on his back, and how easily he was lifted up. The action filled Hob’s mind with a veil of lust, and in that moment, he cursed Dream’s flowy robe for hiding all of that body from him.
“Oh, Hob, you dream so loudly, do you know that?” Dream whispered to him as he lowered Hob’s feet to the floor.
Hob’s knees nearly gave out when he hit them. Dream’s hand still encircled his back, and Hob’s mouth was dry.
“Dream, I want to—” Hob said.
“I know what you want,” Dream said in that infuriating way of his. His hand left Hob’s back.
Hob had to crane his neck to face Dream, and there was a smirk lying over his lover’s features.
“You bastard,” Hob breathed.
“Get up on the bed,” Dream ordered him, and the tone of his voice sent sparks down Hob’s spine and a rush of arousal to his dick. Hob complied.
The bed was one Hob had seen before. He had always thought it was this large due to Dream’s ostentatious nature; but now he understood. Dream had not changed the dimensions of everything in his realm.
Hob climbed onto the silky black sheets, and as he wrinkled them turning around to face Dream, he became aware of the press of his erection against his pants. He reached for the waistband—
Dream’s hand shot out and wrapped around Hob’s forearm, stopping him.
Hob looked up into Dream’s eyes, and found no mercy in them. Dream was still wearing his robe.
“Why,” Hob nearly moaned. He wanted friction, and to release himself. Hob already knew there was a damp spot on the front of his pants.
“Not yet,” Dream promised him.
From his position on the bed, Hob can see the outline of Dream’s cock through the drape of his robe. It hung down, thick and long, against Dream’s thigh. Hob’s mouth watered. He wanted that, any way he could get it.
Hob imagined pushing aside the starspun fabric of Dreams robe and resting his lips on that cock. Hob dreams about it, the pink tip and the softness of the balls hanging heavy behind, and taking it into his mouth and stretching his lips around it—
“Fuck,” Dream groaned, and Hob shot him back a smirk, ah well, two can play this game, can’t they?
“Come on, Dream,” Hob goaded.
“You are testing my resolve,” Dream said. His lashes flutter against his cheekbones.
His voice rang around the room, and under its spell Hob inhaled. This creature was going to be the death of him.
“Turn around,” Dream commanded, and at the snap of the order Hob fell back onto the bed and arched up on his knees.
Hob can feel himself leaking, smearing a mess onto the inside of his pants. The texture of the fabric rustled against his cock, and he wanted so badly to grind himself against something.
Dream’s hand smoothed up his back, sliding underneath Hob’s shirt. His fingers were cool and possessive, like they always were in dreams, except they were as thick as the ribs they ran over. Hob wrenched his neck to the side, but all he could see was Dream's shoulders and the mane of his hair and one starlit eye.
Dream’s other hand suddenly yanked down Hob’s waistband, letting it bind the tops of his thighs together and press against his balls and the base of his cock.
“Oh my god,” Hob gasped. The friction was insane.
Hob was unsteady on his knees now, unable to spread them wide, and so he compensated by expanding his elbows. It did not help his balance much.
The air on his exposed ass and balls caused him to twitch, and then Dream’s hand reached under and pulled Hob closer to the edge of the bed. His hand pressed down on Hob’s clothed cock, and Hob yelped as he nearly toppled to the side.
Dream’s hand was gone as quickly as it came, and then he was pressing a finger to Hob’s hole.
His fingers were already oily, because of course they were, but as Dream worked a finger into him Hob sagged into the bed and shuddered.
Even one of his fingers felt like a stretch. And it was so long, curling into Hob like it owned him, and Hob was at Dream’s mercy. Dream’s other hand stroked Hob’s flank.
“Dream!” Hob moaned.
“Yes?” The finger had buried itself to the knuckle. It was touching parts of him no one else had ever reached. Hob could only shudder in response.
He wanted to see Dream, he thought, even as Dream worked his finger in and out of Hob. The stretch was fantastic. The joints of Dream’s fingers were slightly wider; and they caught as they pumped in and out of him. Hob wanted to rock back on the hand, but with his knees unable to balance him, he remained tensed and still.
Hob could feel himself clenching around Dream’s fingers, and the burning coals of his erection had not gone away. Hob was so hard he was sure he was going to blow any minute. Not that it mattered to Dream; Dream controlled his realm, and he controlled Hob, and he controlled Hob’s erections—ergo, it would be a nonissue.
“I want—Give me—” Hob panted out.
His hair was sticking to the back of his neck with sweat, and Hob felt the mass of Dream lean over him, finger still buried inside, and kiss the spot where the strands had begun to curl.
“You want more? Already?” Dream chuckled against his back.
Hob jolted up into him. “Yes!” He cried.
First Dream didn’t let Hob even see his cock, and then he only fucked him on one finger. This was torture.
“Okay,” Dream agreed.
Two fingers must be the largest thing Hob’s ever taken in his long life. He breathed in hard when the second entered him, his mind muddled with the slight pain of it and the teeming heat of his own arousal. God, Hob wants to cum so bad.
Hob forgot his rules and his balance and tried to rock back on Dream’s fingers. The result was the waistband of these pants constraining him and rubbing against his head in a way that made Hob cry out, and he knew he was close, but not that close—
“Hob, are you about to come?” Dream asked, in that slow, curling voice of his.
“Dream, ah,” Hob keened when Dream curved his fingers inside him, “I don’t think I can—Ah! Last!”
“Then come,” Dream told him, and Hob is ever one to please, he’s always been so eager and ready and happy to make others happy.
Sparks flew behind Hob’s eyelids as his seed spilled out of him and into his pants, creating a sticky mess inside. His dick pulsed and Hob cried out as he rode the aftershocks with Dream’s fingers thrusting into him. He could feel himself clench around them, and as the hypersensitivity set in, along with the cold smear of his own spend covering his dick, Hob wanted nothing more than to be held.
“Do you think this is enough?” Dream asked him, crooking his fingers.
“I—Mm, ah, I don’t—” Hob’s vision was getting hazy. Had he really cum? So soon?
“Sshh, of course it isn’t. I’m sorry,” Dream cooed into Hob’s ear.
Hob can feel the press of his body, completely covering Hob’s spine, even as his hand hammered into Hob’s ass.
“I want to see you,” Hob panted.
“You will, when you are ready. Are you?”
Hob’s fried brain took a moment to process that Dream was actually asking him a question he wanted an answer to.
Hob thought about the possibility of Dream’s cock inside him, and the girth of it, hidden as it was by Dream’s robes. He can feel it even now, pressed against the side of Hob’s left thigh, waiting.
Hob knew if he said yes, it would hurt more than anything in the world, and he knew Dream, as much as he loved Hob, did not ever want to see him in pain. So Hob swallowed his want and said;
“Not yet.”
Dream pressed a kiss to Hob’s spine, and pushed a third finger inside.
Oh, how it burned! Hob didn’t know how—he couldn’t think, he didn’t know if his body was made for this, but it was a dream. Still the stretch intensified Hob’s sensitivity and honed all of his thoughts to his again-weeping cock and his entrance.
“Look at you. How good you are, how well you know yourself,” Dream purred out, the praise causing Hob’s dizzy brain to light up.
Hob hitched back a sob. Of course he knew his limits. Of course, that he liked to test them was another story, but Dream was being so authoritative, and Hob liked it.
Hob was hyper aware of his own shaky breathing, and where his skin shivered when Dream touched him.
“You’re perfect, you know that,” Dream murmured even as he pulled his fingers nearly all the way out.
Hob whined. His hole clutched around what remained in him, and he could barely sense the pain any longer.
“You waited so long for me” Dream breathed into his back. His fingers punched into Hob with the words as if to emphasize them.
“Yes! I did! I’d wait forever for you, Dream—Ah!” Hob cried out, and Dream made a sound above him.
“I will grant you your desire,” Dream said tenderly, and Hob doesn’t know what Dream meant, or what desire Hob could possibly have right now—
Dream lifted him up.
His right hand, the fingers slick with oil, supported Hob’s ass, and the other pressed against Hob’s chest, holding him to Dream’s front with ease. Hob's breath hitched.
Dream took three steps, and suddenly Dream was standing in front of a large mirror. Hob saw himself, his ruddy cheeks and gleaming asscheeks, and the swell of his own balls half-trapped under his clothes, and a smear of spit near his mouth. Hob saw Dream's hands engulfing him, the left curled around Hob’s whole chest. Hob’s dick throbbed.
Dream’s robe was parted to the side, and finally, Hob saw Dream’s cock.
It belonged to a being such as Dream. It was long and hard and thick and veined; the tip of it shiny with precum. Hob wanted it. He was not afraid. He would be destroyed by the feel of it inside him, he knew, and he’d never want anyone else, as long as his life lasted—even into eternity.
Dream held Hob’s chest in an iron grip, and Hob tensed as Dream used his other hand to line up the tip of that cock with Hob’s wet hole.
“Are you prepared?” Dream asked, and his eyes in the mirror seek out Hob’s own.
“Yes!” Hob cried.
Dream pushed inside. He let gravity do the work, and Hob watched as, slowly, inch by inch, Dream fit inside.
Hob’s arm scrambled up and clutched around Dream’s neck for support, his legs dangling down. He was only halfway inside, and suddenly Hob was afraid Dream would let him sink down until the hardness of his cock split Hob open like a sword.
Dream smiled; his hand returned to cradle under Hob’s thighs and hold him.
He was so much; thick and throbbing and gaping open Hob’s hole in a way that Hob felt his body would never forget. Hob could see a pulsing blue vein on the underside, until it disappeared into him. Hob’s thighs trembled.
He was aware he was panting and straining, but Dream’s grip was firm and supportive, and even as Hob wiggled around, adjusting to the size, Dream held him.
It was overwhelming. Hob could see just how wantonly he appeared in the mirror, but headier still was Dream, who stood like a sentry, waiting, as he carefully lowered Hob.
Hob tried bucking against Dream’s hand to no avail. Dream’s hand was clamped over Hob’s chest, and he took no quarter from Hob. Hob, who was gasping and trying to just—get some necessary friction. The mess in Hob’s pants from his earlier mistake he regretted now; he just felt soiled and incapable.
Dream was still only three-quarters of the way inside.
“Dream, ah, please,” Hob cried.
“You want it faster?” Dream’s eyebrows rose.
“I want you all the way,” Hob begged.
Dream acquiesced; his hand, which nearly encircled Hob’s thigh, pulled down at the same time his hand on Hob’s chest pushed, and Hob cried out as Dream fully seated himself.
There was no room for anything else. Hob looked at himself, debauched and flushed and leaking in the mirror. His gaze caught on Dream’s which was dark with lust and suddenly, he knew that Dream’s resolve was hanging on by a thread.
“Dream, fuck me!” Hob ordered, and it was enough to snap that thread.
Of course, Dream smiled, and his canines were large and sharp and hounding, and his arm under Hob’s ass lifted him up, and his arm around Hob’s chest pushed him down.
The resulting thrust knocked the air out of Hob. He was so full, and the cock inside him was pumping into him, and Hob could see the slickness where they met, as Dream neatly abused his hole. The stretch was insanity. Dream’s eyes were black, and not even the stars looked upon Hob as he babbled for release.
It was a crime—it left Hob wanting—that he felt none of Dream’s skin through the fabric of his clothes. The only places their skin touched was where Dream’s cock slammed into him, and even that Hob had no control over. Dream lifted Hob’s body up on his own terms, and left him to sink down onto his cock.
Hob panted and moaned and tried his best; once, Dream hoisted him so that he almost slipped out of Hob, and Hob nearly shouted in alarm, eyes wide at the possibility of their separation, when Dream let go of the hand underneath Hob, and let gravity crash them together. The resulting sting inside Hob was worth it.
“Dream, Dream, I wanna—I need to—please, please, Ah! Please,” Hob whimpered. His ass ached, and his dick was so engorged he thought he might blow at any moment.
Dream’s thighs shuddered beneath Hob; Hob knew he was close. He wanted Dream to come.
“Please cum, Dream—Mm,” Hob bit out the words.
“You, hah, ask so sweetly,” Dream rumbled against him, biting the curve of Hob’s ear. The only indication of Dream’s debauchery is a slight pink tone to his cheeks.
Dream clutched Hob to him, and buried his face in the crook of Hob’s shoulder, and this is the only indication he has obeyed Hob’s request.
Hob felt it, though. He sensed Dream’s cock giving a few thrusts and spilling inside him. It was a sweet relief. Him, clenching around Dream’s cock, and Dream, cumming into him.
Hob was still hard.
Hob slumped against Dream, waiting for his lover to get his stamina back, but Dream kept them where they were. Hob was sure he was done cumming. Dream kissed the juncture of Hob’s neck and shoulder, and then, still sheathed inside Hob, carried him back to the bed.
“Dream,” Hob said.
Dream said nothing, but carefully flopped them both down on the bed. He remained inside, and the motion rocked him into Hob.
“Dream?” Hob asked. Dream was not getting soft.
Dream pulled down the waistband of Hob’s pants further, careful around their joining, and Hob hissed as his dick sprung free and hit the air.
Dream wrenched the pants off, and Hob spread his legs to get better balance. His cock screamed to be touched.
Dream finally pulled out. He flipped Hob around. His eyes were still dark.
Above him like this, Hob was aware of just how much Dream loomed over him. Dream wetted his lips, and he bent down.
Hob can do naught but open his mouth and receive him. Dream’s lips are plush and gentle, and it isn’t until Dream wraps one giant hand around Hob’s cock that Hob realized the kiss was a cover.
“Dream!” Hob choked.
“I’ll have you speechless by the time I am finished with you,” Dream promised him.
The words knock the breath out of Hob. He writhed and arched up against Dream, but Dream’s hand covered all of Hob’s dick and more, and the slight chill of his fingers—fingers which had been inside Hob—curling through Hob’s old spend and around his engorged member were enough to drive Hob over the edge.
“Dream!” Hob cried out his lover’s name as he cums a second time, and this one is less satisfying than the first.
Less cum dribbled out of Hob’s cock, and through the flames licking up Hob’s stomach, Dream wrings the last bits of his orgasm from him. Hob wants to cry. Dream’s cock still nudged at his thigh.
As Hob tried to escape the sensitivity Dream exploited, he felt cum leaking out of his asshole. Dream noticed as well, and it returned the pink to his cheeks. He appeared to be mesmerized.
His hand finally left Hob’s dick, which he was thankful for.
But Dream simply stared down at his hole for a second, and then he glanced back up at Hob, and took his own huge member in hand.
Dream seemed to be waiting, and Hob realized a second too late that Dream wants to have his way with him again.
Of course, Hob was nothing if not happy to please, so he anchored his feet into the mattress and presented himself.
Dream slammed into him, fucking the cum leaking out of Hob’s hole straight back, and a manic grin covered his beautiful face.
His hands encircled Hob’s thighs completely, and Hob was shaking still from the aftershocks.
It was much easier for Dream to establish his rhythm on the bed, and as Dream planted a knee on the mattress, he pulled Hob closer to him. His eyes were pure black, and they stared at Hob like they wanted to devour him, as if Dream isn’t already nearly sending Hob to seventh heaven with his fat cock alone.
He is so big. It’s the only thing Hob can think about. That and Dream’s chiseled body towering over him, holding him steady as he fucked into Hob. Hob’s hands grabbed Dream’s wrists, for something to hold onto, and Hob shuddered and shook as Dream bent over him and pressed a kiss to Hob’s forehead.
The whole room smells like sweat and sex and some kind of spice, and Hob can only hear the wet slap of him taking Dream’s cock, and the wet sound of the cum being fucked back into him. Hob was very sure his brain wouldn't be functioning much longer.
Hob was aware of his mouth babbling.
“You’re taking me so good, and a second time too, my beloved,” Dream was punctuating each sweet claim with a kiss to Hob’s chest.
“Dre—Mm, ah!” Dream’s name bled into a moan.
Dream sucked a mark into his chest, his hips still pistoning into Hob. Hob doesn’t think he has it in him to go again.
Dream unfurled back up to his full height, and Hob looked up into the dark mass of hair and the even darker unadulterated black of Dream’s eyes, focused as they are on their connection. The fire of possession burned in them.
Hob was so lost. He hungered for more, and even though his ass burned, he knew his cock was filled with blood again, and the velvet head of it dragged against his messy stomach. Dream was controlling this, maybe.
Dream smirked at him, and snapped his hips forward, enough to plow Hob a few inches back into the bed. Hob keened, and Dream repeated the action.
“Come on, Hob,” Dream goaded him.
“Nng,” Hob gritted out. Every inch of his skin is sparking, and the friction of Dream’s cock is a lit match.
“I know you can do it,” Dream said. He tightened his fingers, pressing them into the flesh of Hob’s naked thighs.
Dream pounded into him again, and Hob released a wordless cry. He came, a third time, and nothing spilled out of him.
Dream chased the cry with his own pistoning, and the earth shatters and there is nothing but black and the point in which they meet. Dream above him, and in him, and below him somehow. Hob cried and begged and pleaded, and he felt cool lips on his, and they draw him back into himself.
Slowly, Hob’s senses return to him. Dream returned to his normal size, and he was pressed against Hob’s back.
“Holy fuck,” Hob breathed out.
