Work Text:
George Wilkins has lived a double life for as long as he can remember. Not a double life in the way most people mean either; he didn’t have a hidden family or a secret identity. Instead whenever he fell asleep, whenever he dreamed, he became someone else, a man named Robert Gadling.
He never shared his dreams with anyone; they were too special, and too dangerous to share. For in his dreams he wasn’t just someone else; he was somewhere else.
In his dream he was hundreds of years old, and he lived his entire life outside of The Silo. But more importantly; or perhaps more privately; there was him.
George had never been attracted to another man in his life; not in a romantic or sexual way; and yet in his dreams; assuming they were the dream and he was the real person and not the other way around; he was dating a man. And not just any man, a being older than the gods who had helped shape and create reality itself.
That alone had to make that other reality the dream, didn’t it? And yet, how could he dream of life outside the Silo; a life he had never seen or known, not even in stories?
How could he know the warmth of sunlight against his skin, or the smell of the ocean? Or the touch of a man’s hands, the taste of his skin, the pleasure of being penetrated as they made love?
Sometimes he woke, a smile on his face from being held in his arms, only to roll over and see her face instead.
Juliette had a beautiful face, and he did love her in his way, but it was never the face he expected, and he knew that he worried her, sometimes, when the smile would slip and he would turn away again.
She would always ask what the problem was, and he never had an answer; how could he talk about being in love with a man who only existed in his dreams, and whose name he didn’t even know while he was awake? He knew she would never understand, and that kept his lips sealed. At best she would tease him; at worst she would take that to mean he would be okay bringing another man into their bed. Or perhaps she would simply find the truth too much to handle after the lies, and leave him. No matter what, telling her about his dream-love was not an idea he was willing to entertain.
Once, he passed a man on the stairs between levels who looked like the mystery man from his dreams, and his heart almost stopped, even as his ass clenched, leaving him breathless. By the time he had collected himself enough to turn back around, the man was gone, and he never did find him again.
That night, he settled down to sleep in his own bed, alone.
“Hob Gadling, time to wake up.” His eyes opened to look up into the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen.
“Morning, Morpheus.” He leaned in for a kiss, and was kissed back, long and lingering.
“You have an hour before you must leave for work.” He was rolled onto his back, their legs entwined, and all he needed to do to see that his lover was just as happy to be there as he was was look down.
“Oh? Three rounds last night wasn’t enough for you? I thought it was Dream I had invited into my bed, and not Desire?”
He was only teasing, and Morpheus knew it. “Were I Desire, you would not have had the chance to sleep at all.” Lips trailed wetly down his throat.
“Can you see into my dreams?”
“Only when I choose to, why do you ask?”
“Mmm… It’s nothing.” He shook the strange, recurrent dream of life trapped in a giant underground Silo away; of course this was reality, and as he kissed Morpheus again, he knew he wouldn’t have it any other way.