#the entire goncharov thing is absolutely sending me and I think Hob would have so much fun with the memes

[littledreamling]

Now on AO3!

"Hob," Dream called out, in that tone. It was a tone that Hob had learned meant that Dream was confused, utterly and entirely, but he didn't want to admit it. Hob was, as always, more than happy to help. It wasn't often that his lover asked for help and while he couldn't exactly call Dream's odd and often ill-timed questions pleas for help, he knew Dream's understanding of the Waking often depended on his steadfast and reliable answers.

"Yes, love?"

"What is this... Goncharov?"

Hob was suddenly very glad that Dream was lounging on the couch, safely out of sight of the kitchen, where Hob was currently questioning every life choice that had led him to this moment. He placed his mug of coffee (thankfully empty enough to have not spilled all over him during his knee-jerk, full-body convulsion of silent laughter at his lover's question) on the counter (to save it from further spillage risks) and, once he had schooled his face as best as he could, popped his head around the corner to glance at Dream, who was engrossed in something on Hob's phone. Scrolling through social media, no doubt, given the topic at hand.

"It's uhh... a movie from the 70's, if I remember correctly," Hob said, as smoothly as possible. "Something about the mafia? It was sort of a cult classic, but I'm not surprised you haven't heard of it. It had it's little blip of fame and then faded back into obscurity pretty quickly. Why?"

"It has gained something of a resurgence, it seems," Dream mused without looking up, a fact that Hob was eternally grateful for. He wasn't sure his facial expression was even remotely close to anything that could be called innocent. One glance from Dream and the game would be up. "There have been many dreams about it in the past few days. Something about clocks and apples and lit cigarettes. I was simply wondering after your opinion on it."

"Oh, it was Al Pacino in his prime. It came out right before The Godfather, if I remember correctly. God, I haven't heard anything about it in years," Hob lied through his teeth, trying desperately to keep the grin off of his lips and the laughter from bubbling up in his chest. "Might be fun to rewatch it. Like I said, it kind of flopped when it came out; I'm glad that it's getting the attention it deserves, even if it is fifty years too late."

At that, Dream did look up, something like affront in his eyes.

"There is no such thing as too late for a story, Hob," he said, not unkindly. "A story always has time to be told. So long as the story remains, its message persists. The revival of a story is an inevitability in its lifetime; they never die, they simply twist and evolve. That this particular story is garnering such avid, new attention after so long is a comfort."

Well, now Hob felt bad. His playful teases shriveled in the face of such a display of sincerity and emotion from his beloved. It burned through Hob's heart, scorching away the last traces of mirth and leaving only soft love in its wake. It must have shown in his face, in the quirk of his fond smile, in the gentle warmth of his eyes, because Dream set his phone aside and reached a hand out, an invitation and demand all in one, and Hob snorted lightly. You could take the Endless out of the Dreaming, but you couldn't take the Dreaming out of the Endless; he was a King through and through. Luckily for Dream, Hob was as devoted as a knight and he went easily, as if pulled by puppet strings to Dream's side.

---

Later, loose-limbed and buried under a veritable mountain of blankets in Hob's bed and embrace, Dream was back to scrolling. Hob didn't hold it against him--being disconnected from the Waking world for so long must have been disorienting, especially with the technological advances of the twentieth and twenty-first century, and Hob couldn't answer every question his lover had. The internet was by far the better source of niche information and Hob was humble enough to admit it.

He could feel the moment, however, that the internet betrayed him. Dream stiffened in his arms and Hob bit at the inside of his lips to keep from chuckling.

"You are many things, Hob Gadling," Dream said lowly, "but I never took you for a liar."

And then Hob really did laugh. He couldn't help it; it rose in his stomach like champagne bubbles, bursting with tinkling joy. By the time he caught his breath, there were tears pricking at the corners of his eyes and Dream was huffing in laughter next to him.

"I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean to," Hob gasped, breathless from the hilarity of the situation. "It was just-"

"A meme," Dream said, all traces of anger gone from his voice. "So this Goncharov, it never existed?"

"I'm afraid not."

"That is a shame," Dream mused. "I had found myself quite looking forward to seeing it."

Hob pressed his lips, and with them, his fond smile, to Dream's hair.

"Perhaps you could inspire its creation," he said. "After all, stories must start somewhere, right?"

And if Hob dreamed of a flickering flame igniting two cigarettes, of bloody hands clenched around a gun, of a clock tower in the snow, well... he had always suspected that his sleeping mind was Dream's testing ground. Perhaps, one day, far in the future, they would reap the benefits of Dream's tests. Perhaps, one day, far in the future, Goncharov would take shape and take hold in someone's mind. Perhaps, one day, far in the future, they would be able to see Goncharov in all of its revived glory.

But for now, it was merely a dream, a whisper of potential in a collective mind. Perhaps, one day...

#y'all when I tell you I FLEW to my keyboard to write this #the entire goncharov thing is absolutely sending me and I think Hob would have so much fun with the memes #this is so stupid and definitely softer than I intended it to be #but oh well #this is probably riddled with typos #and I’m sorry for inflicting this upon all of you #but not really #it’s one of the stupidest things I’ve ever written but I’m oddly proud of it #dream of the endless #morpheus #hob gadling #dreamling #the sandman #sandman netflix #goncharov #unreality