Only Fools Rush In
So the setup for this is that Hob and Dream are professors in their forties at the same university, they’re friends who are very much pining for each other. They’re not oblivious, just taking things slow. Unfortunately, some meddling students and staff didn’t get the memo 😅
There will be more parts to this fic - as the word count kept running away from me I just decided to split it up and post the parts separately, however, I cannot promise when the next part will be completed.
——
Part 1
“Seriously? Where are your gloves? Hat? Scarf? Literally anything to keep you warm??”
Dream scoffs at getting scolded upon sight, taking the few more steps necessary to join Hob at the entrance to the outdoor ice skating rink.
“I’m warm enough,” he argues, earning a disbelieving look from Hob, who takes off his own gloves and grabs Dream’s hand, finding it cold, as expected. Dream snatches his hand away with a petulant pout.
Hob laughs at him. “You’re freezing! And you’re ridiculous! Having a fashion style to uphold is all fine and dandy, but dressed like this you’re just asking to catch a cold!”
“I thought I was here to try ice-skating, not to get a lecture on the way I dress,” Dream grumbles. “Besides, won’t I warm up by the activity? All this fuss is unnecessary.”
He makes for the door of the building where ice skates can be rented, with a ‘the sooner to get this over with, the better’ attitude.
Hob follows, raising an eyebrow at him: “Oh, Mr. Confident thinks he’ll be skating circles around me in no time? We’ll see how you’ll feel about the lack of gloves and padded clothing when you’ll end up on your arse, time and time again!”
Dream rolls his eyes. “I’m sure that was your exact intention when picking this activity, making a fool of me, all for your amusement.”
“Hey, I won the bet fair and square! Didn’t you have a blast when you won the last one, making me shave my stubble clean and draw a fake beard on? The students weren’t able to look at me in class without bursting into laughter!”
Dream cannot help but grin at the memory. “You were able to captivate them with the material nonetheless.”
“Yeah, but I had to work twice as hard to shift their attention away from the beard!”
—
They keep bickering as they rent a pair of skates each, finding a spot on the bench to change into them. Hob demonstrates how to properly tie the skates.
After Dream’s finished, he checks Dream’s work, grabbing onto the skates and testing the wiggle room.
“It needs to be tighter. Tied loosely and your ankles would move about, unsupported. You could get hurt.”
Dream nods, listening carefully. Hob is the expert here, or at least the one with lots of experience to draw from.
“Here, let me help you,” Hob slips from the bench down to his knees, Dream’s foot held in between them, and reties his laces, pulling them tight. Dream blinks rapidly, surprised by the action.
“There, that’s better,” Hob says, looking up and laughing at whatever expression it is that he finds on Dream’s face. “What? No one has ever tied your shoes for you before?”
Dream huffs. “Of course not,” he says, cheeks a little rosier than before, and lowers his gaze down, as if to inspect Hob’s work.
Luckily, Hob doesn’t tease more, he slowly stands up and then offers Dream an inviting hand. “Ready to rock and roll?”
Dream sighs. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” and takes Hob’s hand.
—
The ice rink isn’t too crowded, which is good. Firstly because they have room to move slowly on the ice, with Hob skating backwards and helping Dream learn the ropes without the danger of being run over by someone. And secondly, it means there are less witnesses to Dream’s mortifying struggles.
“Why, again, is this considered fun?” He grumbles, letting Hob pull him forward slowly, feeling extremely embarrassed as he can’t figure out how to move forward on his own without turning it into awkward stumbling rather than skating.
Hob laughs, squeezing Dream’s hands tighter.
“It is fun, it just takes some time to get into it. You’ve gotta lean forward a little, you’re too stiff and upright,” he advises.
Hob explains and demonstrates the right motions to him, over and over with great patience. Dream tries his best to follow the advice, and after a while, it does get better. Hob praises him and asks if he wants to try on his own for a bit, but Dream gives him an anxious look.
“Hmm, maybe you could try with the skating aid?” Hob suggests.
Dream grimaces. “Over my dead body,” he says, prompting Hob to burst into laughter again.
“Okay, got it. No skating aid for grown-up Dream. How about you skate near the boards and I'll be on your other side, so you could have something to grab on when you feel unstable?”
Dream nods.
Hob moves into position on his left side. Dream skates forward a few feet, wobbles and immediately grabs onto Hob’s arm with both hands, holding on for dear life.
Hob chuckles. “That’s alright, you’re doing great! Mistakes and falls are an inevitable part of the learning process!”
Dream glares at him. “Thanks for the tip, professor Gadling.”
Hob grins. “I’m no professor here, just an ice-skating teacher.”
“Whatever. Hold my hand,” Dream commands, and Hob happily obliges.
They do a few rounds like that, and it’s…actually not bad. Dream is getting used to the mechanics of the movement and he’s not that anxious with a steady support by his side.
He tries speeding up, and it works. He maybe even starts to feel a little bit of that excitement that attracts people to practice this activity regularly.
“You’re doing amazing!” Hob says, and Dream cannot help but preen.
He raises an eyebrow at Hob: “What were you saying earlier, about me landing on my arse again and again?”
Hob laughs. “Clearly, you have a good teacher!”
Dream snorts. “Clearly, I am a good student.”
“That you are,” Hob says with a smile, and pulls Dream to skate faster.
And faster.
And Dream stumbles on uneven ice, falling backwards and taking Hob with him.
They both land on their arses.
Hob, of course, reacts to this with laughter. Dream really doesn’t know where that man takes all that optimism from.
“Sorry, my bad, I went too fast!”
“Yes, you do that,” Dream mutters under his nose.
“Pardon?” Hob asks, brows furrowed as he picks himself up from the ice and holds out a hand for Dream.
Dream looks at the outstretched hand but doesn’t take it. “You’ll have to have patience with me, Hob. I don’t have the guts for barrelling into things headfirst anymore.”
“It’s generally recommended to avoid barrelling into anything while you’re ice skating,” Hob jokes. Dream gives him a look and this time Hob does catch on that Dream’s not talking about ice-skating anymore.
His gaze softens. “You can take all the time you need, Dream, I’m not in a rush.”
He plops down onto the ice next to Dream, back against the boards. “Wanna just chill here for a while?”
Dream gives him an unimpressed look. “We can’t sit here, we’re in people’s way.”
“Eh, they’ll make do for a minute.”
Dream shakes his head and pulls them both up to stand again. “I should get back on the horse, shouldn’t I?”
Hob grins. “I think that’s a different sport, love.”
Dream rolls his eyes. “It’s called an idiom, you twit.”
Dream dusts off his gloved hands and picks up the hat that he was wearing. Hob actually forced his own gloves and hat on him before they started and Dream has to admit to himself that he’s glad for them now. Of course, he’s not about to voice that and give Hob the satisfaction. The pompom on top of the hat is silly, but it does keep Dream’s ears warm, so he’s willing to commit this small fashion crime in the name of comfort.
To top it all off, Hob’s knitted Doctor Who scarf is now also in Dream’s possession. He has no objections to that one, though it does look better on Hob.
He would feel guilty for leaving Hob to freeze but the man’s actually wearing a big puffer jacket, zipped up to his chin. And his cheeks are endearingly rosy when he smiles at Dream, which is also, uhm, something.
“Shall we?” Hob asks, and Dream reaches for his hand again. This time, Hob doesn’t pull, but matches Dream’s own tempo.
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