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[delta-pavonis]

Drabble: Red Dress

Dreamling (vampire!Hob/AFAB trans!Dream AU) || Rated E || just under 1k words || complete

Alternate Universe - Magic, vampire!Hob, trans!Dream, AFAB Dream, established relationship, oral sex, cunnilingus, menstrual sex, graphic descriptions of blood, discussion of breeding, discussion of fertility, discussion of a trans man getting pregnant, kissing with menstrual blood on face and lips Read on AO3 or under the cut

NOTES: First, I was trying to figure out a title for this drabble and stumbled across the poem at the start. While I know that the title of the poem is "What Do Women Want?" and that clashes with AFAB trans Dream, I just loved the sentiment in the latter half of the poem so much that I needed to include it. Second, no, stopping one's menstruation via pharmaceutical means does NOT make the flow heavier. I made that up here for plot purposes.

I want that red dress bad. I want it to confirm your worst fears about me, to show you how little I care about you or anything except what I want. When I find it, I’ll pull that garment from its hanger like I’m choosing a body to carry me into this world, through the birth-cries and the love-cries too, and I’ll wear it like bones, like skin, it’ll be the goddamned dress they bury me in. from “What Do Women Want?” by Kim Addonizio

When Hob brings his head up from between Dream’s legs the image is a new definition of obscene. 

His face is smeared with fluids from his cheekbones down, everything from pearly delicate pinks to the deep sensual red of a rich cabernet sauvignon. It crosses the arch of his nose, just below where cartilage meets bone, and reaches almost back to his ears. Bits of his short beard clump together into red-black wet points and crimson drips from from the teeth of his open mouth to color his panting tongue scarlet and rose-pink. 

Hob’s eyes are so much darker than usual, burgundy irises glinting with the shine of a ruby. He smiles and licks his teeth, emphasizing the pointed canines, then also cleans his lips. “Exquisite,” he purrs.

Dream falls back into the pillows with a whimper, “Holy fuck.�� He flings an arm over his face, even the meager light from the candles on the table beside the bed too much additional stimulus. “Hob, please.”

A couple gentle licks between Dream’s folds make him tremble before he gets a response. “Yes, dearest?” How such a creature can sound so innocent Dream will never understand.

He realizes that he doesn’t know what he is begging for, he just lets his legs fall a little more open with a plaintive whine.

Hob’s kisses leave a wet trail on the inside of his thighs. “Oh, I know, sweet thing. I know,” he practically coos. “Do you even know what it is like to come without my bite anymore?” He nips at Dream’s skin but not enough to come close to breaking it; Dream sobs in frustration. “It seems that I can get enough blood this way to manage an erection. You have used your magic to hold static your moonphase for so long that you are bleeding profusely. You have prepared your body for me perfectly, my sweet sorcerer. I will have no problem drilling your cunt into screaming submission.”

Dream moans at the thought. “Then why now? Why wait until now to ask me to stop taking my potions?” he gasps. It has been almost a year since Dream found the emaciated vampire chained up amongst the other ‘oddities’ in Burgess’ collection, freed him along with the others who he was actually there for. Matthew had declared him insane for even going near the vampire, Lucienne had decried his willingness to risk the safety of the Dreaming for a vampire could learn much by taking one’s lifeblood. 

But Dream had been captivated even then. The vampire’s dull, almost lifeless gaze, had called to him. Desire had written him off as enthralled. Perhaps he was.

Hob doesn’t answer immediately, sucks and licks until he has taken at least another three mouthfuls and Dream’s eyes have started to fill with tears in his frustration with the lack of consistent attention to his clit. “I was waiting for a special occasion.” He hums, kissing below Dream’s navel. “It has been a long recovery from my imprisonment. I had been damaged more than I was willing to tell even you, dear one.” 

That gets the sorcerer’s attention and he is up on his elbows so that he can look at Hob properly. “Hob?”

Hob doesn’t meet his eyes at first, too busy nuzzling into the lowest part of Dream’s abdomen, kissing it reverently, smearing bloody fluids there and then licking them up. When he looks up to Dream his eyes are dark pits of vicious hunger, fully black from one end to the other. “I am healed completely. Now. I can fill you,” he bites, harder but still not hard enough to break skin, “with my seed.”

“What?” Dream gasps, breathless. He cannot possibly mean…

“I would breed you,” Dream interrupts Hob with a high-pitched cry, “my sweet sorcerer. If you will it. You could carry our children. Not turned against their will, but born to the night.” He nuzzles Dream’s belly again. “And most likely daywalkers as well, given your magic. How powerful it is. How it reaches out for me.” 

Dream never thought… never in his wildest fantasies that it could… that he… “Fuck.”

Hob crawls up his lover’s body and looks down at him, expression fond. “Only if you wish it. But you would be resplendent,” he presses their stomachs together, “rounded with child.” He slides down and nuzzles the pectoral muscles modified with magic long ago. “And never would you need feel lacking for not coming into milk, for our children would take to blood without hesitation. Either yours… or mine.”

Oh God. An image of Hob, infant in his arms – their child in his arms – taking nourishment from his body, sustained by his body as much as Dream’s. It is surreal. It is fantastical. It is everything.

Dream pulls Hob up by his hair and kisses him, uncaring that he is tasting his own menstrual blood. A squeak of surprise catches in Hob’s throat, but it is only a moment before he groans and curls around Dream’s tongue with his own. 

“I don’t know,” Dream pants into Hob’s mouth, both their lips darkened with blood now, “if I am even still fertile.”

Hob smiles, which is most certainly not the reaction Dream expected. “Well, it will certainly be fun to find out.”