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Hob decided they should go to the beach one day. It was the year 1948, the war was over, and Hob was getting sick of London. The city was still recovering from the Blitz, and it was a miserable affair. In addition, Hob felt he had worked on his issues with the beach after Dunkirk, being almost a decade since. The beach had been a purgatory, not knowing whether he was going to make it out of France. It didn't matter that he couldn't die. In fact, death would've been better, than the waiting. But now, Hob was ready to move on and go back to enjoying the sea and sand like he used to. After a few decades, Hob liked to leave the smoggy heart of England and get away for awhile. And this time, he was taking his lovers with him.
There was a place he still owned down in West Cornwall, a mile away from Porthchapel beach. The cliff side view was spectacular, and with it being the beginning of October, Hob doubted there would be many there vacationing, if at all. It was the perfect place.
So when the three of them were next gathered in the flat, Hob stated, “We're going on a road trip.”
Calliope looked up from her soup, eyes bright with interest. “Where to?”
“A beach down in Cornwall. I have a small old cottage there that should work for us.”
“How long will this take?” Dream asked, and Hob rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Don't sound so put out, love. Maybe a week or so.”
“I have a realm to rule.” He then pointed out. Not coldly, but it still hit Hob just the same.
Pursing his lips, Hob turned back to his meal. Right. Dream was ruling an entire unconscious kingdom. Of course he doesn't have time for something silly like a road trip. Clearing his throat, Hob muttered, “Never mind.”
Finished with his soup, he scraped his chair back to go clean up the kitchen, taking his bowl with him. He tried not to look too disappointed. Dream did his best to visit them frequently, but since being separated from his realm for so long, he was antsy at times, not liking to leave it alone for too long, even after these last few years of getting resettled.
It was fine. Maybe they could just take a day trip to Brighton. That was a quirky town and the beach was decent enough as well, all stone no sand. And maybe that was for the best, who knew how his trauma would react. However, Hob would have to suggest that another time, as now was not the best anymore.
In the dining nook, he heard low voices, one sounding far sharper than the other. Calliope. She was probably arguing in defence of his idea, that Hob decided to call back, “It's fine! It was a stupid idea.” Internally, he winced at his tone, and how hurt he sounded. It didn't want any pity from them.
There was a huff, Calliope coming into the kitchen next. “It most certainly is not!” She retorted, “I think it's wonderful and Oneiros knows that the kingdom is well enough for him to be gone for a week by now.” Hob could imagine the glare she shot back at the Endless.
A stifled sigh resounded from the dining area. “Must you guilt trip me?”
“We must.” Calliope threw back, hands on her hips. Now, Dream had also entered the kitchen, making it cramped. “Hob tries his best to show us new things. The least you can do is be kind before you dismiss them.”
Her ire was a ferocious thing, and Hob placed a hand on her shoulder. “It's alright, my Lady.” He soothed, turning to give Dream a wry smile. “I understand, Dream. Truly, it's okay.”
However, Calliope didn't look ready to let it go, her mouth opening, only to snap it shut. For a short second, her gaze became distant. Then, she shook her head, coming out of the daze. Frowning, the Muse informed them, “My sisters are calling, I must go.”
When she glanced between the two males though, Hob could see Calliope caught on indecision so he gave her an encouraging nod. “Go on then. Give them my best.”
Calliope bit her lip, before nodding. “Alright. I'll see you in a day or two.” With a parting kiss on his cheek, the goddess then turned to Dream. For a second, Hob was waiting for her to walk past him without so much of a wave to spite Dream. And the Endless looked to be waiting for that too, eyes flinty and steeled for insult. After all, she was upset with him, why wouldn't she. But Calliope proved to be far better than either men, and leant in to rest her head against his cheek. She muttered something to Dream in Ancient Greek, before finally leaving. Whatever was said left a contemplative expression on the Endless' face.
The air between the remaining two of the trio was heavy. Unable to meet Dream's gaze, Hob turned back to the sink, continuing with the clean up. He felt as the Endless stayed where he stood, no doubt watching Hob.
Then, he spoke over the clinking of the dishes, “You're upset with me.”
Hissing an exhale through his teeth, Hob muttered, “What gave you that idea?”
A prolonged silence, and Hob could imagine the expression on Dream's face, confused and growing irritated. “This is very hypocritical of you.”
A dish slipped from his hand into the soapy water, and Hob clenched his jaw. Looking over his shoulder just enough to catch Dream's eyes and scowl, Hob gritted out. “Excuse me?”
Lifting his chin, not backing down from the impending argument, Dream repeated. “It's hypocritical of you. You encourage us to discuss how we feel, yet you stand here and lie.”
Tsking, “Oh, don't start, Dream.” Hob faced back towards the skin, scrubbing furiously at a bowl.
“If you are allowed to insist, than so should I-”
“What's the bloody point, Dream!?” Hob snapped finally, whirling around on the Endless. “What's the fucking point in telling you how I feel?” He grabbed a dish cloth to dry his hands as his frustration poured out, “It's pathetic and I don't want to even think about it because you'll just pity me. A pathetic little human with his feelings hurt, so what's the point?”
Dream stepped forward, fists held tight by his sides as he implored with a low rumble. “I want to know. I wish to help.”
Leaning back against the counter, Hob scrubbed at his face, uncaring of his damp hands as his shoulders slumped. He hadn't wanted the night to turn out like this. It was meant to be Calliope and him getting excited, cajoling a reticent Dream until he gave in. It wasn't meant to be an argument.
He was hit was a massive wave of exhaustion and decided the dishes could be done tomorrow. “I'm tired, Dream.” Hob murmured, once more unable to look into those unfathomable star light eyes. Walking around the darkly dressed entity, Hob began the process of preparing for sleep.
Tugging the back collar of his sweater over his head, he tossed it onto the bedroom floor, his trousers quick to follow. As he sat down on the edge to peel off his socks, the floor boards creaked and he glanced up to see Dream standing in the door way hesitantly.
It was hard sometimes, to remember that even as old and wise as he was, Dream of the Endless was truly terrible with discussing personal matters and struggled to connect with others. A wash of guilt came over him. He shouldn't have expected too much from Dream. He was a simple human against Dream's duties, it was obviously which would win.
Falling back onto the bed, facing away from Dream, Hob waited, before huffing when the Endless made no sound to move, “Are you joining me or not?”
A pause of uncertainty, before movement. A rustling of clothes, the bed dipping, and soon there was skin pressed against his back, lean arms wrapping around his middle.
The touch, the embrace, it had Hob sucking in a shuddering breath, and he forced himself to not cry even as a few tears slipped from his eyes. “I'm tired, Dream.” He whispered, caving into his need to explain. “I'm tired of not feeling enough for either of you. I'm tired of trying so hard to be interesting for you both, so that I could keep you around for as long as I can. You're gods, your hearts will stray because how could a simple human man capture it completely?”
Swallowing thickly, voice wet, Hob continued, “I can't give you anything splendid or invaluable. I can't give you stars or worlds or beautiful songs and poetry. I can only give you mortal experiences, which could never compare. I just want to show you my world, what I enjoy, but it's always shot down. So why bother, Dream?”
“You are enough for us, Hob. You're enough for me.”
Hob stayed silent. He was afraid that if he replied, it would come out sharp, made to hurt. And he never wanted to hurt Dream. Instead, he pressed his face into his pillow and replied, resigned, “Best go back to the Dreaming. I won't be much company tonight.”
“Is that what you wish, Hob?”
'No.' He wanted to cry out. 'Stay with me.' He wanted to beg. But he pushed out a soft, “Yes.” And Dream nodded against his back. “If you wish to see me, call my name.”
The warmth and weight of Dream disappeared. The bed was small. But without his usual companion or two, it was suddenly too large, and his breath hitched. The sobs he had stifled before came rushing out, filling the room to become his only companion tonight.
When he woke up, Hob recalled that he had not dreamt at all. He wondered if he should be hurt by that or not, Dream keeping away his creations from him. Eyes aching, the man tried to decide whether it was worth it, to crawl out of bed and pretend the night before never happened. He was good at that. However, there was sound of clattering in the kitchen, as well as the soft croons from the radio caught that his attention, and he struggled to sit up.
Rubbing sleep from his eyes, Hob frowned, trying to think who would be in his flat. More than likely Calliope, as Dream wouldn't. Finding a pair of sleeping trousers from his dresser, Hob tugged them on before wandering blearily into the other part of the flat, and stilled at the sight before him.
Dream was at the sink, washing dishes, whilst Calliope sat on the counter, giving the clueless Endless being instructions on how to do such a mundane task.
At his entrance, she looked his way and brightened, “Hob, you're awake!”
The slope of Dream's back tensed before he forced it to relax as he turned to also look at Hob. It was only after these last few years of being in an intimate relationship with the Endless that Hob could read the faint traces of guilt on Dream's face. Feeling off-footed, the man scratched at his arm. “What are you two doing here?” It came out more fragile than he liked, and both of the divine creatures caught it.
Softening her smile, Calliope hopped from the counter to glide over to him as she asked rhetorically. “We're here to go to the beach, aren't we?”
Hob blinked, bewildered. When he glanced over at Dream, the being nodded in agreement. “I have spoken to Lucienne, and she has agreed to look after the Dreaming until I return. I may check in from time to time, or if there is an emergency, but I am yours for the week.”
A burst of laughter erupted from him, disbelieving. “We're going to the beach?”
Calliope's smile became a grin again, giving a tiny excited jump as she took his hands. “We're going to the beach!”
Giddy, Hob pulled both of them into a tight hug, his heart feeling like it would burst. Calliope was always quicker to return an embrace than Dream, but the Endless returned them nonetheless, body leaning into his touch. Hob was taller than the Muse, and Dream was but a few inches shorter than him. That meant that he could happily tuck her head under one side of his chin as he nuzzled into Dream's hair.
“Thank you.” He whispered, and Dream's arm tightened around him. “You are everything to us, Hob. We will not tire of you.”
Calliope hummed in agreement, “We love you too much to leave you, Hob. Don't ever think you are not enough for us.”
The tight ball within his chest unraveled, and he felt he could breathe clearer again.
They headed on the road that morning. Once they got out of London, the smoggy sky cleared up to reveal a bright blue. He had one of the newest models of automobiles, having invested into the new manufacturing. After all the centuries of living, he deemed himself an expert at knowing what inventions would become popular and which would fade within a few years.
In a deep midnight blue Alvis Fourteen, the top pulled all the way back, the three immortals drove to Cornwall. Hob bundled up against the chilled air, though he enjoyed it immensely. The two gods had no need for such need however but dressed for the occasion anyways. Calliope periodically fiddled with the tuning dial so that they could keep up the music, her hand sometimes surfing the air. There was a delighted smile on her face, enjoying how the wind whipped her hair. The pair had taken to having short drives from time to time, but it was the Endless' first time in the car.
In the back seat, Dream laid on his back to stare up at the clouds that passed by above. When they were deciding on who sat where, Dream did not even bother with trying the passenger seat, climbing straight into the back leather bench. As the least chatty of the three, it worked well for them, the Endless enjoying their conversations and presence as he took in the sky.
They had just over six hours of driving, and Hob was reveling over how differing their reactions to the mode of transport. Calliope marveled at, going into another ramble on how much faster traveling had become for humans, whereas Dream had grumbled for a long minute overh ow traveling through dreams to get to Cornwall would have been quicker. That Calliope could have easily taken them there as well.
The goddess had thrown a peach at him – as Hob had insisted they bring snacks – and told him to stop being miserable. Mutinously, Dream had eaten the peach as he settled down for the long ride.
Neither of them were bad traveling companions, really. Calliope would recite poetry, even coming up with her own on the fly, and Hob joined in, though terribly much to their amusement. At one point, they spent nearly an hour throwing back lines and stanzas, some becoming quite filthy. Even Dream joined in on that fun, his low voice hard to catch over the wind and the engine, but they managed, and his unexpected dry and dirty humour had them cackling.
Another hour, Hob was throwing out questions more bizarre than the last of what Ancient Greece was like, if the myths and legends were true. According to the myths Calliope had a completely different husband, as well as having had a child from Zeus, who was also her father.
When he grimaced at that, Calliope giggled, “I never laid with my father, but for the gods, familial blood was seen differently. Incest wasn't really a thing for us.”
“Still. It's disgusting.”
Dream hummed in agreement from the back seat. When he had taken a glance back, the Endless was reading a novel. Pride and Prejudice.
Calliope had gotten the being into Jane Austen, stating maybe it would teach him a thing or two on being humble and open minded of people he viewed as lesser. Dream had pointed out that he knew every story that existed, but Calliope insisted. And in the end, it seemed to work in slow incriminates as he worked through the author's collection of works.
It was a project between Hob and the Muse. They didn't want to change Dream, not in a way that took away everything that made him who he was. He was not human, so the way he felt and believed was naturally different from mortals, and even gods. But, that did not mean he could not learn empathy and compassion, especially as he was in a dark thought process of all humans being like Roderick Burgess and Erasmus Fry.
Dream was doubtful, but he gave in to their whims. Though at times it worried Hob, how Dream was weak for the ones he loved and would give them anything they asked. It was not the most healthiest of mind sets. He privately vowed to never take advantage of that selflessness, whether it be on purpose or not.
They had left around ten in the morning, and by the time five began to creep up onto them, they were winding their way down a country back road to his cottage. He pointed it out to them, when he caught sight of the grey stone structure in the distance, upon a hill in the middle of farm land. Dream was at that point sitting up, arms folded and resting on the back bench seat between them.
“Found this place back in 1780, an old farmstead at the time. The family had either passed or moved away, and it was left empty. I had decent enough coin and wanted to get far from the city for a while. A summer home.”
He explained all this as he pulled up onto the gravel outside of the fenced front yard. The garden was over grown, but Hob kind of preferred that natural beauty and decided maybe a trim away from the front path would be the only thing needed to tidy it up a bit. Turning off the engine, Hob climbed out to hurry around to Calliope's side, opening both her door and Dream's.
The goddess pressed a kiss to his cheek in gratitude as Dream brushed his hand gently across where Hob's was set on the handle.
Deciding to open up the cottage and do a bit of cleaning before dragging their suitcases in, Hob dug the key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. It was certainly dusty within as expected, sheets placed over furniture to help preserve them from rot or mold. It was a humble place, two bedrooms up a small stair case and an open plan room down stairs, with the kitchen on the right and the sitting/dining room on the left, an open fire place was between the two rooms, bringing in heat for both sides. There was a back room for storage and a cellar for the pantry.
Last time he was here he cleared it all out, so the only food they had were the one prepared for the trip and dinner tonight. Tomorrow, they would have to walk to the nearby village to collect groceries.
Glancing around, Hob brightened at the pile of wood by the fireplace and decided to get that started first, warm the cottage up as they cleaned. Calliope took initiative and peeked around for the cleaning cupboard, tossing a dusting stick at Dream, who caught it, baffled.
As she held up the broom she found, the Muse waved it threateningly at the Endless, “Be useful and get rid of the cobwebs, my love.”
Dream scowled, “This is below me.”
“Then you can sleep on the dirty floor tonight whilst Hob and I take the bed.” She snidely retorted.
From what Hob had gathered, she never used to be this brazen with Dream when they were married. Hob wondered if that was either his own influence, or if she realised just how much Dream needed someone with a lack of reverence to keep him grounded and less arrogant.
Either way, it worked, because the Endless shrugged off his coat, hanging it up on the hook by the door and began dusting the corners with a scowl. Calliope gave Hob a mischievous wink before turning to her sweeping.
As the fire place roared, Hob smiled as he went about washing the windows and cleaning the surfaces, enjoying the domesticity. The furniture covers were removed and set out onto the back yard line to be beaten of dust, and while outside, Hob got to trimming the path way.
Working together, with Calliope singing and Hob joining in if he knew the song, they managed to get it all cleaned up by the time the sun fully set and he brought in their things.
Laying out cushions before the fire place, the three immortals munched on sandwiches and sipped freshly made tea in content silence. Dream had dust in his hair and Calliope had a speckles of dirt on the hem of her skirt. Hob was sure he had a streak of mud on his cheek, going by the scratchy dryness there, but he didn't care.
Looking at the three of them, you wouldn't think they were old beings, just a small group of humans. Hob smiled into his sandwich.
The next morning dawned with an over-cast sky, and Hob made them some oatmeal. He knew neither Calliope nor Dream needed to eat. It helped if their power was weakened, but they were both at full strength. However, Hob loved to cook for them, and they indulged him in turn. Not only was he a fighter, but he was a caretaker at heart.
Dream was the first to come into the kitchen, far more awake than Calliope who followed a minute after, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. The Endless' permanent bedhead was a hopeless cause, so instead Hob took the cooked oatmeal off the stove so it wouldn't burn and went about straightening the Muse's messy curls.
Whilst doing so, Dream set about dishing up the breakfast, with Calliope giving a halfhearted flick of her fingers, making out of season strawberries and blueberries to be added to the bowls. When her hair was tamed and tied off into a neat plait, Calliope pressing a grateful kiss to his cheek as they sat down at the rickety table to eat.
“What are the plans for the day?” Calliope asked between bites, Dream looking up from his food to listen.
Hob hummed through a mouthful, swallowing a second later to reply, “Need groceries, so I thought a walk to the village would be good. Then, I suppose we could head down to the beach.”
“That is why we are here.” Dream added.
Resting his chin on his hand, Hob smiled softly as Calliope turned to Dream to ask if he recalled one of their own walks along a Greek beach, Dream faintly quirking his lips as he nodded. Hob never felt jealous of them and how much longer they've known one another. Just like he knew Calliope or Dream didn't get jealous of the time he spent with one or the other alone. They all had their own histories together and they were being intertwined slowly the longer they stood by one another.
As time had gone by, Calliope and Dream's relationship had eased and mended, private discussions of their lost son and letting themselves grieve. Hob at first kept out of it, knowing they needed their space. But soon he was dragged into it, grieving his own lost wife and son, all of them understanding the pain of a parent losing a child.
Hob even went so far as to find a small printed portrait of Orpheus, framing it and placing it on the mantel piece, along with the tiny painted portraits of his wife and Robyn. Calliope had pressed desperate kisses to his face, becoming wet with her tears of gratitude as Dream stared at the picture with his own wet eyes.
So Hob would like to believe that over the last five years, they had grown close, healing and still needing to heal so more. But they had one another, and that was enough.
Bundling up in sweaters, scarves, and coats, Calliope walked in the middle, swinging her arms where her hands were latched around Dream and Hob's.
The Endless was describing some of the new dreams he was making, Hob adding silly suggestions here and there just to get that exasperated sigh in return. When they got closer to the village, Calliope released their hands to instead rest them in the crooks of their arms. They might get a few strange looks, but none of them cared.
With a wicker shopping basket in hand, Hob added vegetables that were being sold in the open market, adding the ones Calliope declared were the best. Dream suggested a cider that was being sold at another stall in a soft voice, and Hob picked up some bread for more sandwiches. Always a good go-to for outings, he lectured to a very serious Dream and Calliope hid her badly disguised smile behind a hand.
He had plans for a fish pie tonight, so when they passed the fishmonger, he easily stepped up, even as both gods stepped back with screwed up noses. The divine and their delicate sensibilities Hob would tease them afterwards, softly so as no human could hear.
A cod and haddock wrapped up and added to the basket, they turned their stroll back around, heading towards the cottage once more. In the distance, you could hear the crash of the waves against the cliff sides, the cry of the gulls above them, and Hob closed his eyes for a short moment. Breathing in the clean air, touched with salt, Hob felt himself settle.
When he opened them, both of his lovers were watching him. “I love you two.” He declared, now that they were a safe ways away from the village and the curious eyes.
Calliope softened, “I love you too, Hob.” And stepped around him so that he was in the middle this time. She laced her arm around his as Dream took to basket from his other hand so that he can fit his cold hand into Hob's.
Squeezing Hob's hand, Dream murmured , “And I too. Thank you, for suggesting this trip.”
Ducking his head down, Hob gave a bashful smile. “Of course.”
Being October, it was cold at the beach, but still warm enough, as Hob told them about how Cornwall was warmer because of the Gulf stream and Atlantic ocean keeping away the cold weather. He described it to them as they headed to the beach that afternoon, about how warm and swift ocean currents flow from the Gulf of Mexico to Cornwall.
Never the less, Dream was bundled up tightly, because ever since his imprisonment, he couldn't seem to stay warm, which they couldn't fault him for. He had a bright yellow scarf on, that Hob had made him not too long ago. The item was stark against the monochrome of Dream, obviously throwing off the dark appearance the being favoured. But the fact that the Endless chose to continue to wear it despite that, had Hob's heart fluttering a little, pleased.
They had to walk through a valley through the cliffs to get to the sandy beach. At this time of the season, it was empty, and Hob grinned. Setting aside their picnic supplies, he began to tug off his boots, rolling his trousers up one at a time as he ungainly hopped towards the water.
Then, once feet and calves were exposed, he sprinted towards the sea, having half a mind to throw off his coat before splashing into the freezing water. Though yelping at the temperature, he stayed, whooping when Calliope followed him in a minute after. Her tights were tugged off and skirts hiked up and tucked into the waist band, showing off her thighs.
He had to gasp in outrage, “My Lady! How scandalous!”
Giggling, Calliope fell into him, his hands instinctively holding her waist as she declared, “Propriety is for the foolish and short lived!”
“Well said, my dear!” Hob agreed, before grasping her waist firmly to pick her up. She shrieked as Hob spun her around, water splashing their clothes despite their valiant attempt at keeping them dry. When he placed her back down, still holding her close, he looked back to the shore line, where Dream was still stood.
He had gathered up their discarded clothes, now bundled up to his chest and watching them with amusement.
“Get in here, Dream!”
“I think not.” The Endless called back, and Calliope boo'ed him, Hob joining in a moment later. They jeered like children as Dream stayed firm in his decision of staying dry. “He's like a cat.” Hob chuckled, watching as Dream turned to find a spot on a large stone to read and watch them play.
Calliope chuckled, “He sometimes is one.”
“What?” Hob glanced down at her. She gave him a surprised look. “He never told you? He can take the shape of anything, but he likes to take one of a cat the most.”
“Oh my God.” He whispered, delighted. A plan was starting to ruminate in his mind and quickly told Calliope of it.
They decided not to enact it yet, lull the Endless into a false sense of security. Plus, if they imagined it too much, Dream would find out. And they didn't want that. For now, they frolicked around in the water, his feet growing cold but adjusting to the temperature.
Calliope forwent keeping herself completely dry and went out further, submerging herself into the waves, floating with every roll.
His heart felt full, watching her contently stare up at the clouds, the sun shining rays through every time there was a space between the grey fluff. Then, he would glance back at Dream whose hair ruffled in the breeze, sometimes watching them back other times reading, and Hob's heart nearly burst with all the overwhelming emotions he felt. There was a set to Dream's shoulders that showed ease, and Calliope hummed as she floated on the water. On this little beach both gods felt safe here. With him.
After an hour passed of playing in the water, he enacted his plan, striding with water heavy steps until he met the resistance of the sand. Approaching Dream, he beamed. “Are you having fun?”
Dream quirked his lips, a small but honest smile. “I am enjoying myself, yes.”
Leaning forward, bracketing his arms on either side of his sitting form, Hob lowered his voice, “Want to make it better?”
Heat flared in Dream's eyes as he set the book down. That silent permission had Hob capturing his lips, pressing close as the Endless threaded his arms around his neck, fingers tangling in Hob's damp hair.
With him sufficiently distracted, Hob scooped up the entity and sprinted with all his strength to the sea, holding Dream tight in his arms.
“Wait! Hob! Don't you dare-”
The Lord of Dreams, King of Nightmares, and holder of the collective unconsciousness of every living thing, scrambled and flailed like an angry cat in his arms and Hob tossed them both into the waves, falling into the sea with his spitting mad lover.
Gasping as he breached the surface, he spluttered with laughter at the wet cat look Dream had. Calliope came swimming to them, draping her arms around Dream's shoulders to keep him from leaving. “Don't be a sour-puss, my love.” She giggled, smacking a wet kiss to his equally wet cheek. “We just wanted you to enjoy yourself.”
“I was enjoying myself perfectly fine by the water and staying dry.” Was his gritted response.
Hob smacked a kiss to Dream's nose, finding his disgruntled expression adorable. It did not soften his miserable hunch however.
Taking pity on the other, Hob scooped him back up. “Let's get you nice and warm then. We just wanted to have a little fun with you.”
Soaked and miserable, Dream continued to glower as he was carried back to the beach, Calliope following after them. The second he was set back down on the rock, Dream magicked himself dry, which had Hob exclaiming, “You can do that!?”
Huffing, Dream declared haughtily, “I'm not talking to you for the rest of that day.”
Rolling her eyes, Calliope flicked Dream's nose before gallivanting off back into the sea. The offended expression on his face dragged a chuckled from Hob's chest. The withering glare shot his way had Hob quieting quickly, but the obvious press of his lips as he tried to fight a smile did not lessen the glare at all.
Dropping a kiss onto the crown of his head, Hob murmured, “Sorry for throwing you in the water. We won't do that again.”
With another pissed looked sent his way, Dream muttered, “Is it truly so wrong of me to not want to be in the sea?”
“Of course not. I'm just an asshole.” Hob replied earnestly. Then, he turned and followed after Calliope.
As an apology of throwing him into the water, Calliope and Hob showered him with kisses and affection that night, the bed creaking under their shared weight. Dream took it all gracefully and expectantly like the king he was. That was until Hob pulled whines and moans from his lips, fingering him to completion as Calliope trailed her mouth over his chest, neck, and hard cock.
He forgave them come morning.